Thursday, March 29, 2007

Picking a Fight.

Iran scares me.

Iran reminds me of that freaky kid at school.
(You know the one.)

This was the first kid who ever brought a weapon to school. It might have been a pocket knife, brass knuckles, a baton, or those throwing stars that all the TMNT-kids wanted back in the day.

This kid would show some of us whatever it was he'd brought and explain that he wasn't afraid to use it. He'd tell you how it would fuck you up three ways from Sunday, and that if anyone knew he had it, they wouldn't mess with him. (We would believe him too - he had that crazy gleam in his eye.)

He would then proceed to try and pick a scrap with anyone he came across.

He would perceive insults where there weren't any, try to lip off the bigger kids, poke at the disadvantaged or slow to get a reaction from others. This kid was aching to use what he'd brought, and the fact that he was being denied only enraged him further.

Iran reminds me of that kid.

I'm not going to say who's right or wrong on the world stage. I don't know all the facts, and I can't pretend to even understand the thought process behind the Governmental decisions of another country.

I'm just telling you what I feel.

But reading & watching the news, all I can think of is that crazy fucker picking a fight, just because he's got a knife in his back pocket....


Song On My Mind - "I Turn My Camera On" By Spoon
Reading - "" By Can't Look Away.

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