Skip The 21st Century? Why?

The reason for skipping the 21st century is that it was home to a number of people whose backs were to the wall and whose only out was to kill everyone else. These were the people who wanted so much -- everything -- that they had no choice, then, but to drop the bomb on that large segment who was not aware of what they were up to. "That large segment" -- the innocent -- us -- the sight of whom was repulsive to (for instance) the banker.

Whether you learn or not who you are, you will clear your mind of the frauds and criminality, whose odor is still perceivable, that led up to the 21st. Their entire civilization was the result of the tireless, sometimes sincere and innocent, work of the psychopath, whose only aim was power. This is hard to understand, even today, to see in its simplicity. It doesn't sound right, does it? It leaves out so much!

Yes, it does, but the things it leaves out are your things, and mine, and not the things of the psychopath. Wars really were fought so that a small band of folks in high places could make a lot of money. If you think there was anything more to it than that can you put it down in words? Can you start a blog?

More Death.

Two days ago, it happened again, this time to a rabbit.

I was driving home, heading for the last street before turning in. I took the turn wide, as I sometimes do, and started to correct and pick up speed. A rabbit scampered out of the brush at the left, turned sharply back and retreated several feet, then turned again and headed full steam into the road and under my tire. A rabbit.

Just before we got married many years ago, we were driving along a road in a treed subdivision, when a squirrel appeared, started to dash into the road across the path of our onrushing car, and, then, as clever squirrels will do, turned one hundred eighty degrees and attempted to return to the side of the road where he started. This is a well-known and usually successful manoeuvre, whereby a squirrel, in an attempt to evade a fox, will spin around and escape by dashing right between the po' boy's legs. Alas, my front tire was not a fox, and crushed him. It was a bad note leading up to a wedding.

And, again, in college, many many years ago, a cat loped out into the road in front of my car, at night, as if seeking out the very spot where he would meet the onrushing tire, and was crushed.

I hope this is at an end.

The Dead, Who Scream for Revenge.

Came around a curve and there they were, the one I was about to kill, and his companion. Two chihuahuas off on a sweep, still up on the curb, but headed into the road. Mine dropped down onto the pavement. The other one hesitated.

Lucky hesitation, little chihuahua!

They had both heard the noise of the car and had turned to look. The one in the road quickened. He saw what was about to happen. I slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. I cursed the little dog as the contents of the passenger seat slid forward onto the floor. I heard a dull thump and blinked. After clearing the site I saw his motionless body in the rear view mirror, laid out flat on its side.

I did my errand and retraced my tire tracks, driving slowly past the site where the body had lain. No body, no stains. No sign of his companion.

Had someone stopped and removed the carcass?

Had he risen from the cement and gone off?

I'll never know.