Right of Admission Reserved
I am by no means paranoid, but fuck with my freedoms and we've got problems. Generally my M.O. is to have as minimal interaction with any government authority as possible, its just too much admin and frustration.
I've met the minimum requirements...I have a Real Makoya identity document and I made my chicken scatch on a ballot paper a couple of years back thinking I could swing the election in favour of the Green Party, but alas....the Green Party is a reckless lie I've been told to put my sober ass to sleep at night and doesn't exist in this great nation any longer. Boo! So, by my standards I would assume this would be sufficient and that's about where my dealings with this fair republic end.
I will not be counted. I refuse. For easy reference I've compiled the following list:
In no particular order (just like in Miss Universe except I'm not Trump and no one has had the decency to offer me any head).....
Its the simple freedoms from choosing your breakfast cereal, to answering a phonecall that seperates us from our shit-slinging counterparts.
So you know we got problems when the world comes to a point when reflective vest wearing psychopaths demand entry to your home to count you! Problems, people....we've got them. Besides, I reserve the right of admission to anyone...psychopath or not.
A few weeks ago this rancid, little six year old knocked on my door and demanded that I give R20 and sign his raffle, bear in mind he didn't even mention a prize or anything. I'm known to be easily persuaded by gimics and glitter...poor sales tactics on his part, that's what I say! I gave him a look of seething derision as I moved like a ninja to grab the jar of loose change and proceeded (with varying results) to pelt him with those heavy copper 5 cent coins. Glory. It was mine. Apparantly this didn't go down too well with the neighbours. But tell me what type of parent is negligent enough to let their young son solicit money from strangers in the neighbourhood? Trust me, there's probably quite a few people who would throw loose change at little boys for an entirely different reason.
Its about choice. Its your choice to count and be counted, to throw money at little boys, to use public transport, to vote, to love, to breathe, to drink 2% milk and injest MSG that gnaws away at your brain cells. It a choice...and its yours.
Moth, the strange and lovable man that he is draws quite a bit of his life philosphy from musicians...one in particular said the following:
So for me, when human life boils down to cold hard numbers, I don't want to be included. It cheapens things for me and detracts from the value of human life. I am but one of seven billion people one this planet. I am one and I am here. So if you know what you are; and you know where you are, well then we half way there. Still, I have until the end of the month to go incognito, but they seem to have already infiltrated my neighbourhood. They have posters indicating which reflective vest wearing miscreant is coming to a theatre near you.
Try and find me biatches, its easier stripping brown off an asshole.
I've met the minimum requirements...I have a Real Makoya identity document and I made my chicken scatch on a ballot paper a couple of years back thinking I could swing the election in favour of the Green Party, but alas....the Green Party is a reckless lie I've been told to put my sober ass to sleep at night and doesn't exist in this great nation any longer. Boo! So, by my standards I would assume this would be sufficient and that's about where my dealings with this fair republic end.
I will not be counted. I refuse. For easy reference I've compiled the following list:
In no particular order (just like in Miss Universe except I'm not Trump and no one has had the decency to offer me any head).....
- Firstly and most importantly I am not a sheep.
- I reserve the right of admission into my home to any and everyone. (Space invaders beware- russling up a high powered rifle is really easier than you think).
- Maths was never an easy subject for me (it's like cricket- I just don't understand...yes, no matter how many times you try and explain- its still a blank), but its not me we're talking about...its those census bafoons that need to dig out their abbacuss and start figuring out how to average.
I am entitled to misdirect my rage in any direction I choose- next month I think I'll target shoelaces. Really? In this day and age with all our modern conveniences are they really neccessary or merely just a relic of a bygone era.- Moth and myself have taken a blood oath never to procreate. The combination of our genetic make-up will unleash a force the likes the world has never seen before with unimaginable power, bad attitude and general distrust for any loose form of authority.
- I can do the job cheaper, in less time and with less inconvenience to myself. Observe. One. See how fast that was? Because theer's only one of me and that one will be sending the Census Authority a bill in the post. Ahem, I said cheap- not free.
- Also, I've never been fucked by an Australian, so that would also classify me as not a sheep.
I do not by any standards acknowledge the upcomming census, or their hoards of pathetically "official" looking mouth-breathers. Because where I come from, looking "official" is as easy as wearing a yellow reflective vest and asking you to borrow your pen...really! Who needs writing implements when tasked to ask people to complete official forms or function in an office environment. Nope. Not us...most parastatals and government departments work on a bastardised ethos of ubuntu which suits our mostly aliterate society quite comfortably. Their hybrid version which is usually interpreted as floating by on another person's effort, expended energy and stationary.
My liberties as a humanoid on this blue planet are totally being impeded by asking me to adhere to every administrative requirement that our goverment dictates. Today, I'm feeling particularly like a vigilante. This could be because I've lost my phone and am actively delaying the process of getting a new one- screw you network providers (muhahahahahahahahaaaaaaaa)!!!!! A sence of freedom is gained. And freedom, my lovelies is the best drug there is.
So you know we got problems when the world comes to a point when reflective vest wearing psychopaths demand entry to your home to count you! Problems, people....we've got them. Besides, I reserve the right of admission to anyone...psychopath or not.
A few weeks ago this rancid, little six year old knocked on my door and demanded that I give R20 and sign his raffle, bear in mind he didn't even mention a prize or anything. I'm known to be easily persuaded by gimics and glitter...poor sales tactics on his part, that's what I say! I gave him a look of seething derision as I moved like a ninja to grab the jar of loose change and proceeded (with varying results) to pelt him with those heavy copper 5 cent coins. Glory. It was mine. Apparantly this didn't go down too well with the neighbours. But tell me what type of parent is negligent enough to let their young son solicit money from strangers in the neighbourhood? Trust me, there's probably quite a few people who would throw loose change at little boys for an entirely different reason.
Its about choice. Its your choice to count and be counted, to throw money at little boys, to use public transport, to vote, to love, to breathe, to drink 2% milk and injest MSG that gnaws away at your brain cells. It a choice...and its yours.
Moth, the strange and lovable man that he is draws quite a bit of his life philosphy from musicians...one in particular said the following:
"The death of one is a tragedy, the death of millions is just a statistic."- Marilyn Manson.
So for me, when human life boils down to cold hard numbers, I don't want to be included. It cheapens things for me and detracts from the value of human life. I am but one of seven billion people one this planet. I am one and I am here. So if you know what you are; and you know where you are, well then we half way there. Still, I have until the end of the month to go incognito, but they seem to have already infiltrated my neighbourhood. They have posters indicating which reflective vest wearing miscreant is coming to a theatre near you.
Try and find me biatches, its easier stripping brown off an asshole.
About the Author
0 comments