THE FACE OF HORROR

Last night a friend sent me a message asking me to come out and drink with her and her husband at a place where the nearest humanoid representation of both Godzilla and Chewbaca was working.

She knows of my hesitance about going there when Chewzilla is on duty, so I have to really wonder what was going through her head.
Perhaps it was the Bourbon speaking.

I am a patient and tolerant man.

So, with great patience and tolerance, I let her know that unless it was right at that moment raining blood, and the rivers had caught fire, and the three-headed dragon with crowns upon each head had appeared, there was very little chance of my heading in that direction.

I like monsters, but not that much.

It's mostly intellectual anyway.


"I've seen horrors, horrors that you've seen. But you have no right to call me a murderer. You have a right to kill me. You have a right to do that, but you have no right to judge me. It is impossible for words to describe what is necessary to those who do not know what horror means. 

Horror has a face."

-----Colonel Kurtz


Things got confused out there. The mission doesn't exist; it never existed. Sometimes the dark side overcomes what Lincoln called the better angels of our nature.

Chewzilla is out there operating without any decent restraint, and totally beyond the pale of any acceptable human conduct.

dot - dot - dot

Anyhow, here it is, Sunday morning, and I suspect that everyone involved in last night's lapse of judgement is suffering right now.

I'm not.


I didn't even leave the house for a burrito. Just had coffee and read till twelve o'clock, then went to bed.



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