Tom: So if Bill Hicks says life is a ride, then all I have to do is enjoy it, right?

Satan: Sure, why not.

Tom: Hahahahahahahahahaha! I got it all figured out fucker! Hahahahaha! People will look back on this little blog-o retrospective and think, "Damn, that motherfucker was ON!"

Satan: What do you mean by that? Do you mean you think that other people will think that you were just writing for the fuck of it, that it didn't really make sense to do it but you said fuck it and did it anyways? Wow. You're a real hero.

Tom: Oh fuck you bitch. That's why you've always envied me. Because I can just lay back and roll.

Satan: The nex time you get high I'm going to make you think something is squeezing your heart like that scene in Exorcist II.

Tom: Awwwwwww sheeeit!

I get it. I understand why sports are so interesting to some people. Like guys who work together in an office. It's the ultimate neutral ground. The only time mostpeople can express a subjective opinion in the workplace is when discussing sports. As such, they filter a large portion of their personalities through "sports". Sports talk is passionate. Irrational. Witty and bitchy.

Fuck that. I see right through it. I don't "get" sports. Grown men swatting little balls does not constitute drama for me. I like playing sports. But they're just games.

Tom: I would rather have to write papers in French on the recent evolutionary developments of sexual morality as they're reflected in literature and have them graded at the mastter's level than work at West Coast Life Insurance. But it's not easy. Despite what my girlfriend thinks. And fuck you, Ray. It's not easy for anyone to put on a goddamn happy face and speak a foreign language to total strangers, just hoping that none of them see fit to rob you of your self-esteem as well as your wallet.

Satan: Good lord. Why don't you lighten up a bit? Puff a blunt, smoke a J... I know they have that shit in Montreal.

Tom: I'm starting to feel like I've been shut up inside a terrified litttle bubble for the last three weeks. Everything is so different. I mean shit, I speak French bu there's a totally different accent here! It's like fucking Amercian English vs. British English and I can hardly even understand what THOSE fucks are saying! I can see people notice notice my temporary social retardation, but they don't really seem to care for the most part.

Satan: So why should you?

Tom: I'm FINE motherfucker!

Satan: Not as fine as a lot of the chicks here. Hoo boy. They speak French too you know.

Tom: Oh fuck off.

Satan: Do you think you've been in school for too long? Have you been fully indoctrinated now?

Tom: Whatever, man. Like I said, it beats the life insurance industry.

Satan: But you're still a company man to the bitter end.

Tom: Why don't you go suck your own dick or something? I'll bet you can do that.

Tom: I climbed a hill today and sat in the clouds.

Satan: That's nice.

Tom: I have that scary/exhilarating feeling of freedom, total freedom, like I know my place as a tiny little speck in the universe but I have my will and as such I set plans into motion and now those plans are coming to fruition and once again I'm going off on an adventure to somewhere I've never been before and I'm not really just a piece of shit office grunt...

Satan: Wow. Go easy there tiger, you're foaming at the mouth.

Tom: It feels... healthy.

Tom: You drunk?

Satan: Yeah.

Tom: Good.

Satan: If you could have anything what would you want?

Tom: Well... everything I have right now.

Satan: Bullshit.

Tom: Really.

Satan: Okay.

Tom: I'm hiding out next weekend.

Satan: Why?

Tom: Because of the pride parade.

Satan: What's wrong with having a gay pride parade?

Tom: I'm not gay. I'm suspicious of any kind of "pride". And I fuckin hate parades.

Satan: So what are you going to do instead?

Tom: Close the shutters, drink beer, smoke, contemplate, play video games, write, clean, play with the cats, and talk on the phone.

Satan: That's so boring I'm speechless.

Tom: No it's not and you know it.

Tom: I have to get out of his country.

Satan: Why?

Tom: My tax money is being used to wage war in Iraq.

Satan: I see.

Tom: Yeah. If I leave the country, then none of the money I earn will buy bombs or bullets that kill Iraqi civilians.

Satan: Congratulations.

Tom: Complacent fuck.

Satan: Oh am I?

Tom: Well, um, I don't know. That's kind of why I brought the whole thing up. Am I being melodramatic? Is there something I'm missing?

Satan: What do you want from me? I'm the Lord of the Underworld. I thrive on this shit. I love death and destruction and charred corpses. I love seeing dead children. Chaos becomes me.

Tom: Well, I don't like it. I want people to be as happy as possible. I can't kid myself any longer. I'm sure every country has something shameful to hide, but my god, it's got to be less than what the American government perpetuates.

Satan: Well, what's the solution?

Tom: Ask countries to establish "aggression free zones"- designate areas that will donate no tax money to funding any military endeavors- recruitment, munitions, any kind of war contracting. How much would you bet that these areas are the safest in any country from terrorism? And maybe countries can use this in a big game of weapons non-proliferation.

Satan: No I mean what's your short-term solution?

Tom: I'm going to go to a country that doesn't contribute to the Iraq war.

Satan: As far as you know.

Tom: That's right fuckface.

Tom: I'm tired of my current world view.

Satan: That's a pretty broad complaint, do you think you can narrow it down a bit?

Tom: Well, I don't feel like I have a whole lot of long-term hope in my life. I think that the world view (reality-tunnel, whatever you want to call it) that I use as the basis for all of my actions is as accurate as it can possibly be, but it's kind of depressing.

Satan: Why?

Tom: I don't know if I believe in anything other than what I perceive. We're here, wherever here is, and this is all we've got. As I recently explained to a Christian friend, rather than making life meaningless, this "one-shot deal" approach imbues every action with importance. Since this is all we've got we have to make the most of it. I take it for granted that, as the existentialists say, this brings about tremendous responsibility, but I accept that and I am determined to make the most of it with the tools I have.

Satan: Do you feel like you're doing a satisfactory job of that?

Tom: Well, um, yes. Unless I let simple animal fears get to me too much or I forget the transient nature of everything I see and experience.

Satan: Then what's the problem?

Tom: Well, I AM going to die some day. Everything I ever knew and cared for will be gone. Won't that kind of suck?

Satan: Well, maybe, I suppose that depends on your point of view. At this point I would ask you to remember two things- you won't be around to experience the moment when everything you ever knew or cared for ceases to exist, and it's inevitable that that's going to happen, so there's no use getting too worked up about it anyways, right?

Tom: I guess not, but lately I've been considering constructing an alternate reality-tunnel to dip into from time to time where things work out happily ever after as my brain would like them to work out at any given moment. I call it my happily-ever-as-defined-by-me-at-any-given-moment world view.

Satan: That's a lot of hyphens.

Tom: Is that your only criticism?

Satan: Well, it's certainly no more egocentric than any of the world views espoused by any of the major religions. Are you sure you don't just miss believing in God?

Tom: No, not at all. That didn't even give me any real peace when I was five years old. It didn't stop pets from dying or forests from disappearing or people from going hungry. What I'm suggesting is simply being open to the possibility that there is data out there that I haven't encountered yet that might mutate my current everything-changes (goes "extinct") reality tunnel into something that doesn't seem quite so gloomy at times.

Satan: Knock yourself out, kid.

Tom: Thanks.

Satan: Well, look who it is. Had some sort of depressive fit of late?

Tom: Maybe. I don't know. I tell you this though- the thought of going to work tomorrow to pay my elecricity bill and a part of a credit card bill seems like the biggest fucking con in the world, and I'm the mark.

Satan: Can't take this shit much longer, eh?

Tom: Nope. But as the man said, "I would do anything for love..."

Satan: I hate that song.

Tom: Me too. But that's the only reason I'm here.

Satan: Sounds like you're making the most of the situation.

Tom: Oh fuck you. I joined a really cool band and it fuckin broke up. Nothing to do with me. I look around a little bit and nothing interests me. I'm going to finish recording my Squid single and play in the subway. That's about all I want to do musically at this point.

Satan: Great. You fascinate me.

Tom: Dude, I just cleaned the whole fuckin apartment, I'm sorry I'm too tired to entertain you...

Satan: Go to sleep.

Tom: I am asleep.