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yourselves one loud, dirty, expensive, demanding, certified ball o' flesh, fit with all the trimmings. Providing, of course, that you meet some basic competence and non-abuse requirements, since after all we want to raise children who have the potential to be useful and productive at least. The current day-care and planned parenthood structures could easily be converted into competency testing centers, parental training programs and lottery departments. The lottery proceeds would go towards child care and education facilities, and then the children we do produce will have a better environment to prosper in as well.
Or we could go the natural, wholesome, evolutionary route. We could let everyone breed freely, loose all the murderers into society, and let the corpses sit rotting on the sidewalks. This would keep the densest populations in check (similar to the theory about hunters keeping the deer populations from overcrowding by hunting out enough of them that they don't diminish their food supply quite so rapidly) and if we can't make some use of the corpses, at least we'll be promoting the growth of carrion eaters and decomposers. And as an extra benefit, the putrefying carcasses on the front lawns of modern America will prompt many families (anyone whose olfactory nerves work) to move out to the countryside... which lessens the density in the population centers.
Despite all the seemingly bad aspects of natural life, we'd rather see the freedom of a fetid, dank urban sprawl than the opressively waiting-room sterile, bleach-gene world predicted by Huxley and Orwell.
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Submission:
The Grudge
I testified and liquefied
(to a gasp
And kidnapped kindergarten
(with a rage of envy
nineteen moon's
(to a nuisance past
I'm livid
(you are punctual
...and I love - the sun
Shine
(Youse two
Shine so bright.
I recall
chasing the thunderstorm around
The dark clouds' dust;
and the rain
(like cold thorns
that thrust suggestions
of questions that eventually weave their
peculiar paths (in good time-
You endeared the rain
(and I the thunder and lightning.
I'm vivid
(and you's two,
- far too brilliant,
(like the sun that rose to see Us
And I - really
know We are
nothing less
than
Com-
pat-
ible.
J.R. Finlayson |
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The Melancholy Predator
wants you to join the melancholy army of writers,
illustrators, poets, editors, and killer worms. We accept
submissions of every flavor and type, and are always looking
for new and exciting works to include. We are also looking
for help with designing/editing and fundraising (donations
accepted freely). Contact the Predator c/o BJ Leopold,
141B Perkins Rd., Rochester, NY, 14623 or
<bjl4009@rit.edu>
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