Thomas Wictor

As a child I wanted to be a stuntman. Then I wanted to be a cop. Then I lost my bearings and careened from one desire and occupation to another. There was never a method to my madness; I just had no clue what I was supposed to do or be. And now I occupy a role I never envisioned for myself.

What I am now is simply me. But by being me, I’m dangerous and intolerable. That’s not my intent. In all honesty I’m bored out of my mind by people who try desperately to shock, upset, or—most insufferable of all—”wake people up.”

Yesterday I was looking for something like this to put into a guy’s Facebook post.

Before I found that image, I came across these no-talent cretins.

WARNING: NSFW due to nudity, language, and nausea-inducing stupidity.

In some circles this is considered edgy and satirical. Objectively speaking it’s garbage—cheap, coarse, ugly, unimaginative crap for nihilistic piglets.

“Me want break everything cuz Mommy made I take baths! No fair!”

Whatever. Stink all you want. I don’t care. But why do you have to do it in public? Why does every angry bath-hater have to pollute my environment with their anti-everything trash? Wouldn’t it be better if they just tied their feet to an anvil and had their topless, bethonged, smelly friends toss them into San Francisco Bay?

Tim just got back from San Francisco. He said it was hell on earth. Insane, aggressive panhandlers assaulted him every few feet, and there were entire streets full of people screaming, defecating, urinating, and vomiting. At night he kept hearing this scary roaring noise, and he finally figured out that it was power washers. They were disinfecting the sidewalks. It was like in Westworld, when the workers come out after dark and repair the day’s mayhem.

Like I said, I didn’t plan to become what I am. But I think anyone who achieves clarity ends up in the same place. You resist the tidal pull of debasement. Not because you’re better than anybody, but because clarity is so hard won that it’s the most precious thing you possess. It came at great cost. You cherish it.

And most importantly, it gives you a level of perception that helps you avoid making the terrible choices you see being made all around you. Again, it’s not that you’re superior. You’re just…different.

I always loved this song because of the bass. Matthew Seligman is a genius. I can’t tell if this is a sampled or electric bass. Maybe it’s both.

Now I am the song, which was never anything I contemplated. It simply occurred over a period of about twenty years.

One more young writer slid away in the night
Over the border he will drown in light
And the man said
Hold it, wait a minute
I can’t read my writing
My own writing
Like tiny insects
My writing
In the palm of history
My writing
A domino effect in a cloud of mystery
My own writing
Is an iron fist
My writing
In a glove full of Vaseline
My writing
But dip the fuse in the kerosene
My own writing
I too become a dissident
Became a dissident
Became a dissident

Courting disaster we ran in the night
Wings of an angel were torn in flight
And the man said
Check it, hold it,
Verify it, wait a minute
It’s all here in writing
My own writing
Like tiny insects
My writing
In the palm of history
My writing
A domino effect and an early end to this story
My writing
Is an iron fist
My writing
In a glove full of Vaseline
My writing
But dip the fuse in the kerosene
My own writing
I too become a dissident
Became a dissident
Became a dissident

Check it, said verify it
It’s all here in writing
Down in writing
At the hands of the press
My writing
And in the eyes of the government
My writing
I fell from grace
My writing
I too became a dissident
I was a dissident, yeah
Like tiny insects
My writing
In the palm of history
My writing
A domino effect and an early end to this story
My writing
Is an iron fist
In a glove full of Vaseline
But dip the fuse in the kerosene
I too become a dissident
Became a dissident
A dissent
A dissent
A dissent

My values aren’t exceptional. See, I didn’t walk away from the world; the world walked away from me.