Why make predictions

Added: 11/23/2006

No one can be certain how things will pan out in the future or can they? Perhaps a good astrologer can help. Wish the people that run this god awful planet would have consulted a few astrologers in years gone by. Things couldn't be worse if they had, that's for sure. The turbulent events in this day and age are enough to make you pay attention to the future, do what you can to fix it before it happens.

The phone keeps ringing from people I haven't heard from in some time. They tell me things are better, that things will get better, they make predictions, but who are they to make predictions? They tell me get up tomorrow, go see the sights, get out and try being a person for awhile but perhaps there's a reason not to watch with what's going on out in the world these days.

I smell the colonizing aroma of deadly popcorn as it explodes inside of cold war memories or maybe not, maybe things aren't half as bad as they seem. It's funny to me, this whole existence joke. I don't get it. I'm the punch line every time. I dig this as I wander downtown, People whining, people rushing, people getting screwed, all these voices saying:

Alas, it sucks to be me, but you get a big house and an armored tank in the city, they say, you get kids and a mortgage equipped with heat seeking bills and marital breakdowns they say. I've even heard it said that you can smear a strip of ink from your underpaying contract beneath your eyes, arm yourself with loopholes and lawyers, and hunt the suburban myth of retirement in gardens buried beneath the filth of failed S&L loans... there's no fucking payout on pensions and disappearing 401 k's anymore, but Golden parachutes are available still in first class. The rest of us are fed hidden fees inside of ATM's and college funds, bequeathed like a deadbeat bill. We get fired for cheaper labor after 30 years at the same job.

Meanwhile in the ivory 100 story towers, there are floral gates and butter pats and elegant candlesticks with iron bars which are now the vogue, we realize -- look at the shiny ball -- look at the shiny ball. Don't pay attention to what's really happening, the American dream is bartered and shipped overseas with our paychecks. Guess the bill is due for being the last superpower so we'll settle up by paying out with the middle class, always eliminating the middle man. I can make predictions too. I predict all but a very few will be poor soon enough. I'll make predictions, and this one is nonfiction: more people like me will get angrier and angrier about things until the world will have to change its policies.

Like a Texas two-step on any New Orleans' grave, or an Iraqi beach party, fate is fickle, seeks out strong ones and provokes a fight. But time marches on, with or without me, time marches on. Perhaps it is time to seek out some professional help, like an astrologer. A professional who makes predictions for a living.

Nihilism, now that's a different drug. I'll have to pass out on that one because things get too rough. Not as if they aren't rough enough now. With the state of affairs in this day and age you don't need to read or write fiction, non-fiction is horrific enough. You have two choices anymore. You can get therapy on a daily basis that you can't afford, or you can consult a good and registered astrologer, start plotting and mapping out the future to the best of your ability so you have an idea what's coming. What's here is already bad enough in large part due to a lack of planning.

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