twinkie and a flashlight

Friday, Oct. 20th 2006
8PM

PACE

www.pioneerarts.org

MARK SCHWABER with ROB CONNELLY and JOSHUA CHURCHILL (formerly known as home.)
with
STEPHEN BRODSKY of CAVE IN
and
OWEIHOPS

$5 in advance at Night Owl Records
www.nightowlrecords.net
or $7 at the door.

I had this realization a few weeks ago. It hit me like a ton of bricks. The entire notion of world peace is a completely humanist faux pas. (This is especially crushing for me having been heavily influenced by beauty pageants since I was little.) As animals we are not meant to be entirely peaceful. By nature we are protective, self-indulgent and ambivalent to the all encompassing halo of peace. (Seriously. Relax. Whatever it is you’re worried about is just something that you should be taking prescription meds for. At some point, probably very soon, the earth will swat us away like the bug that we are.) Take what we’ve earned, we fight. Harm our young, we fight. (Give us 3 bottles of Zima and 2 Percosets and we knock down newspaper boxes on Main St. on our way to the bench in the park where we’ll spend the night hoping that the morning won’t bring stifling sunshine and a warm puddle of urine on our Ipod.) Whether it is with fists or words. We are not unlike bears, sharks, crickets, dogs etc etc. It is not in our genetic makeup to be entirely peaceful. I know that as a highly evolved creature (Justin Timberlake), capable of backing our decisions from an intellectual stance, we are much more probable to avoid cruel interactions by looking to our brains to serve us right from wrong. (You would think that it would also afford us the probability detector capable of telling us NOT to drink that 15th beer on a Tuesday.) To help us sway those nasty, adrenalized passions. This may be the case on paper, but it rarely happens. The exception to prove the rule. The rule that we are incapable of really getting along. (Except for American Idol winners. Flawless beings, they are.)

That made me feel better. Made me breathe a little easier. Made me realize that our president and his cohorts are just a bunch of assholes. Terrell Owens, an arrogant schmuck. Every Yankee fan in or surrounding the Bronx, an impish rube. People who use the word “resolve.” Motorcyclists that run their bikes for 10 minutes before driving them away. I guess the closest I (or you) can come to peace is through an inner one. A self imposed cleansing of the conscience. (If you’re going to perform this cleansing yourself I highly recommend using a flashlight and a twinkie. And for God’s sake, please read the instructions first).