How sincere do I have to be, it’s a dog flapping his tail like a penguin running from a sea monster, but it’s a cookie that’s being held in front of him, and he’s wagging his tail in my face, and I can almost taste the digested machination of animal parts he ate hitting my face.
But there’s not much more to his tail wagging than a penguin flapping. He’s running in my marathon, my life that inevitably leads from the Bronx ghetto to Buckingham Palace. And he sees a cookie. And with his heart pumping and the hunger of his tired legs he’s going to eat it. I don’t have to be an animal activist to see that he’s happy when The Great Cookie majestically descends from the peopley heavens and enters his life, and he’s happy and he’s hungry and his tail starts wagging. And sure he could stop the tail if I hold it still, but wait another five seconds and he’s off to it again because it’s naturally the nonsense of reaction and free expression.
Maybe in another time logic dominated. But it’s not going to get in the way of me trying to stop his tail waving. And it’s not going to get in the way of me procrastinating dong my homework every night. And it’s not going to get in the way of the fact that I know that really really pretty girl loves a loser like me. I know it, and it’s spontaneous and stems from the inside, somewhere black like Africa where I can’t see. And where the dog’s waiving his tail.
This I believe, that human thought and emotion are more powerful than logic and define the ego. Because it’s not how hard I try to build my actions scientifically, culminating like a pyramid, that shows who I am, it’s what I do that I can’t restrain, no matter how much I know I’m wrong.
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