Cult Diaries
June 15:
Those cult guys came around again today. I know they are in a cult because of the nametags, photocopied literature, and matching discount suits from Tip Top. I pretended I wasn’t home. I hate those cult guys.
June 16:
Cult guys are back, they knocked, and knocked, and knocked. They must have waited on the porch for twenty minutes. I think they stole my newspaper. I would never be an asshole like those newspaper thieving cult assholes. Do they know I’m home?
A Minor Observation Re: “Street Performers”
From the full article: Finally, if your drum circle isn’t drawing a crowd, and so you add, without regard to their skill level, two women with hula hoops, and if they look sincerely intense as they gyrate, eyes closed in the tragic fiction of rapture, and if you throw in someone fire-spinning in a pair of wrap pants you brought them back from your trip to Kopipi, and once every ten minutes someone makes an announcement that this is a show, and if there is no sense of order, structure, focus or purpose to your fiery, hoopy, shitty circus, then that is not a show….
I would rather give money to the kitten on a leash, which, may i remind you, is not a show…
Do read on…