ch 2 Further Chapters of Change
Republican is change of iniquity, I realized. it is now a day later, or hours, some expression of time being important. I await clues, ways to understand the economic situation in which colliding worlds distinguish themselves with wordless slices of very bad knives. 16Greezl’po, my comrade from another galaxy, must still be engaged in the reliant fight while I am greedily Republican, so much so that my favourite accounting firm burns with menace. the aliens who now live in me—processing elegant 4-colour reports, spinning prospectuses and terrible bar graphs—constitute a right, a fair market value, a general upturn. shall I plunder the tokens and peer down the hatchway, expecting death to be an answer? I am confused as entity, for life cannot match my lack of expression. I’ve become more Republican than explanation; the maw owns me completely. what would residuals be like, paid promptly, owing only a percentage of the take or recent trends? if only I could treasure a pension plan, and know that my misdeeds are truly my friends. everything resembles an orderly retreat, except that I am under the sway of my new Republicanism. I am my own enemy, tho that verges on absurdity, that ever-delinquent fund-trusting-past-preparation-and-tax-shelter-expertise. what use can be made of that? a dank defile holds fast against the incursions of Democrats, who rate wrath as a by-product of our work. when such rationalism expires, in newly-created-for-time-is-a-slippery-friend terms, I expect the party will build new fences, new waste management projects, new tax rebates. I know 16Greezl’po adds numbers now, and that must be a strange experience, for numbers are new to this fine alien creature. we Republicans are fed up with being busy while the snaky injunctions from court-appointed-clearing-up-matters throw us into confusion. we need names listed properly, and vicious enemies to defeat savagely, as a process of reformation. the vote will go straight, tho alien invaders take us to task. I am anxious to hear if the tax cut got pushed thru. if so, what hole would take it? pressure builds to allow, if there really are more ways to skin this same old cat. I am stuck now in language, changing damage into integrity, and telling my friends that where I eat dinner matters. these people, they are my golfing buddies. my excuse resembles this visible portage, the one that brings me to the next river on. still newer aliens will revive me if I fade.
