Instructions for Greatness

Everything you do,
do it to the utmost.
Do it to the very reaches of your ability--
do it covered in cuts and bruises,
gasping for breath,
muscles screaming for release as you forge ahead.

Do it as you would a battle with a mortal enemy--
do it leaving every obstacle bleeding on the ground from a hundred places,
beaten into a quivering Jell-O salad from the force of your effort.

Do it with sweat pouring from your brow,
heart pounding in your ears,
all neurons firing full blast as you race across the finish line,
screaming "Yes! I have done it! I have done it--

Or it is not worth doing.

--Patti

Pull the Trigger

What would it be like

to be the man who killed Osama?
What would it be like

to press the button,

to give the order,

to pull the trigger?

What would it be like

to see the people in the streets crying

Hugging each other

Waving their flags

Cheering the death of an old, unarmed man?

No, not a man--

A monster.

He killed so many

evaded us for so long

damn straight we're cheering.

But still a man

still a man with a long, long beard

and a wife who charged at the troops as they knocked down the door

maybe a heartless man,

maybe an evil man,

but still a human one.

They say that on firing squads

one gun is always loaded with blanks and mixed in with the rest

so that each member can pretend to himself that his gun was the blank one--

that he didn't kill that criminal.

Nobody wants to take a life, not even an evil one.

How many lives, I wonder,

does it take to cancel out one?

How many people does a man have to kill

before we have the right to kill him in return?

How many people before we can celebrate instead of mourn?

One million? Six million? Ten? 

How many lives until we can congratulate a murderer?

How many until it isn't murder any more?

And what about that brave, unlucky soldier

did he know the answer?

Did he wonder right from wrong as the bullet left the gun?

What did he wonder

I wonder

the man who pulled the trigger--

the man who killed Osama?

--Patti

Why The World Is Wrong

why would anyone choose to be different.

it's all nice and fine to say 'oh well I love being different'.
but no one really does.

those bug eyed stares.
the snickers behind your back.
the amazement of seeing something so strange.

I hate being different.
everyday I look at what I see in the mirror and spew hate at it.
I hate everything that I am.
being different isn't good.
it's just another vice that someone can twist to warp you.

so yes.
I am different.

but I wish everyday that I wasn't.
but who would choose to be so different in a world that is so reactionary.
a world that refuses to move into the future.
I know I wouldn't.

this is the world I am forced to know.
we are all forced to know.
this xenophobic homophobic cainotophobic existance.
it isn't pretty.

is it wrong for me to want to be normal?
to be average?
maybe.
maybe not.

perhaps difference is synonymous with bravery.
that being different, or allowing ones self to be, is progressive.
beneficial for the future.

then again,
maybe being different is a curse.
and we're all designated for a fiery existance in the pits of hell.
or new york city.

is it worth it?
this constant ridicule, pain, hatred?

I don't think so.

but then again,
I have no choice in the matter.

Rebuttal to the Pessimist

You say society's going to hell in a handbasket. You say humanity's causing problems it will never solve. I think you're forgetting that we're humanity; we invented handbaskets, hell, and the problem, and we've never met any of either we couldn't eventually tear apart.

You say our social mentality's full of sexuality and drugs today, which according to you means we're rapidly degenerating as a society. Has our species not had alcohol ever since we could farm? Did kings of ancient cultures not have harems? Did the ancient soldiers not rape the women of conquered enemy tribes? Have we not had lust and drink and highs for all of the human race? 

You say we glorify slaughter and violence and death. Did not our forefathers judge each other by how many of their enemies' heads they had taken? Were the highest ranked nobles not also the fiercest warriors? Did men not once rule by the sword rather than the ballot?

The human race is inherently flawed. We are naturally ignorant, we are naturally quick to violence, we are naturally fearful of that which we do not know (all fear is technically fear of the unknown). It is simply the way we were made or the way we evolved or the way the Flying Spaghetti Monster threw us here or any and all of these things you may choose to believe. Some people nurture these flaws, while some consciously avoid them, but either way they are all present in each of us in at least a small quantity.

However, this does not make the human race inherently bad. In fact, the human race IS inherently good. Why? Simply put, our naturally good qualities outweigh our naturally bad ones. 

We're naturally inclined to defend what we believe is right. This has led to so many wars and so many conflicts and so many struggles, it's hard to believe this is a blessing and not a curse. However, deep down there are beliefs shared almost completely throughout the human race. If given two choices, both equal in end consequence to us and others, except one saves a life, who would not choose to save? If given the option of starving the world or feeding it, with the end consequence to ourselves the same, who would not choose to feed? Maybe you don't believe in love, but few of us would kill without any sort of motive. Maybe you don't believe in God, but few of us would do something we know and feel is unjust. 

We're all naturally curious; though it's been many a man's downfall, it's also what brought us to the moon and under the ocean and to all the four corners of the Earth. It's what cured smallpox and is curing malaria and WILL cure cancer. It's why we have stories and why we have poems and why we have religions and why we have rants. In fact, curiosity is the reason you in your present form are sitting here today reading this rant (or, more likely, skimming it). Think about it-- your ancestors wouldn't have been in America, and (if you're of anything but 100% one particular ethnic origin) wouldn't have even met. You-- EXACT you-- would be in pieces spread across Europe or Asia or Africa or the world. And you-- EXACT you-- wouldn't even truly exist, because what is a concept of self without a mind, and what is a mind but a collection of thoughts, and what are thoughts but a lovely and delicious stew of beliefs and morals and memories and experiences all bouncing off various synapses, coordinating at the speed of light? I think, therefore I am; I am, therefore... who knows? Let's find out. I know I'm curious.

We all naturally love; maybe you don't believe this, but I do. Maybe it won't always be romantic. Maybe it won't always be requited. Maybe-- definitely-- it won't always be pain-free... but if a man does not love, it is not because he CAN'T love. It's because he won't let himself love. Deep down in all of us, somewhere, there is someone who needs love and gives love. Even the most atrocious gang-banger joins to protect the things he loves: his family. His neighborhood. His freedom. His life. His chance for a way out. His pride... 

What a word that is: pride.

Above anything else, we're all naturally prideful. Above all else, this is what makes us human, and above all else, this is what gives us the ability to redeem ourselves. Look around, and you'll see pride in each and every person you encounter. Maybe it's not even the "boastful" ones... Look at the boy with no friends, and see his pride in his math skills. Look at the jobless construction worker, and see his pride in his family. Look at the angry, lonely old woman at the DMV, and see her pride in her cats. Look at the fat, ugly, perpetually single girl in the baggy man-clothes who nobody wants to partner up with flopping about ineffectively during gym class, and see her pride in her music, her language, her mind. We have ten synchronized organ systems that keep our bodies alive, but it's our pride that keeps us LIVING. To some, pride is a bad word; pride is a vice; pride is what's going to destroy the human race. In reality, pride is the sweetest of blessings; pride is the greatest of virtues; pride is what makes us screw ourselves over, but pride is what gets us back on our feet again. 

We're intrinsically flawed, but we're naturally good; we might screw each other over, but we'll help ourselves back up. 

We're human beings. We can make it work.


--Patti