A Brief Look At Idiocy by Michael Lagace

Posted on August 9, 2007 at 08h03

Consider for a moment the last time you thought to yourself, “why are there so many idiots in this world?” Well, ponder that rhetorical question no more! I have the answer, and it’s so simple that even an idiot could have thought of it… and maybe I did! The number of idiots is increasing in direct proportion to the overall population!

Given the fact that our population continues to grow despite overwhelming scientific evidence suggesting it’s unsustainable, there is exponential possibility for future idiots. Let’s assume that only 1% of the population are idiots, which is likely a low estimation. Two centuries ago, there were about 900 million people on the planet, which works out to roughly 9 million idiots. Today there are about 7 billion, which works out to 70 million idiots! That’s a massive increase in idiocy! These idiots are everywhere, too! They aren’t restricted just to one city, like Ottawa, they’re spread out all over! They’re driving drunk on the roads, stopping in the middle of the walkway at the mall, being president of the United States… it’s idiot madness out there!

We have a predisposition to control our pet population through spaying and neutering, with the logic being that we don’t want to have stray animals running around. Imagine if we applied this same approach to people! This way we wouldn’t have stray humans all over the place, reproducing uncontrollably and being nuisances! Before you get your panties all in a bunch, by “stray humans” I do not mean homeless people. We are all nothing but strays, physically or mentally. We live on a planet with finite resources and area. We have the ability to live peacefully with each other and with nature… but we choose not to. We continue in our habitual ways, possibly due to arrogance and possibly due to ignorance, unwilling to compromise or change. Maybe we’re all idiots, some just have better disguises than others?


Poems, July 11, 2007 at 09h57

she is not the girl she was
or the woman she is
she is trapped between ages
and places
a bright future…

she stumbles now out of habit
because it’s easier than standing still

he smiles at her and it pierces
in, out, gone
he is a storm of a man
thundering through her
leaving only an echo

in, out, gone

The Dance

Prose, June 9, 2007 at 02h03

I’m beginning to feel as though I’ve come to the final few steps of my last dance, and the entire time I was simply going through the rehearsed steps. Every movement was determined by a choreographer that I’ve stopped believing in. All the steps he ever laid out for me were never in my best interest; they made me sloppy, threw me off balance, and left me dangerously close to the edge of the stage. Now the music is beginning to reach its denouement, and I’m remembering the dance with dissatisfaction.

I want to lead from now on, and I don’t want to continue this dance otherwise.

Finding Light

Prose, April 18, 2007 at 07h01

I lay here, motionless, in this oubliette of decision. The room is black, and the light seeping across my face isn’t quite light at all, just streaks of softer darkness. I am confined to this solitary cell not because of making a wrong choice but because I’ve made no choice at all. There is a knocking on the thick wooden door above my head, and at first I stubbornly don’t want to respond. Everything is so familiar and comfortable and I don’t want to share it with anyone. Nor do I want to leave.

The knocking persists.

Without thinking, I pull back the cold metal latch and stand still with a delicate patience. I don’t push the door open; instead, I simply wonder why it does not open without my intervention. The knocking continues to echo and fill my dungeon, bouncing off each wall and pushing me around as it passes by. I begin to worry in a wretched awareness that the knocking will soon turn into the sound of footsteps walking away. When it does, I realize quickly that there is more to decision than merely arriving at a conclusion. Making a decision requires a determined action as well.

I fumble with the door trying to push it open, surprised with how tight I managed to pull it closed in the first place. Finally, the door opens and I poke my head up through the entryway. Squinting, I see a shadowed figure in a long pink coat dash around the corner at the end of the hallway. I climb out frantically, hardly able to get my footing, and run down the hallway as though I was only chasing one question:

Will she be waiting there for me or is she truly gone?