It’s very simple, she said. Look around, do you see a riot? Is the government collapsing, are there racists wearing guns? Has Reactor 4 gone critical? Did Obama betray us all? Are there Wall Street bankers in the grass? Is that a drone I hear? Is a tar sands pipeline sneaking through the sage? Did Romero’s pit bull get loose again?
A fly, perhaps. Some hummingbirds, but I won’t try to catch them now. The morning sun, the cool damp earth, a rock to rest my paws. I bring little mind to this, except to note a sound or scent. You puny wretched bastards think those other things are real. You can’t prove it, but you let your stomachs churn with righteous acid as it eats away your days. I’m probably older than you are now, the way you count these things.