Politics is dead. Long live politics.

Fuck politics. No, seriously. Fuck politics. Bend it over and give it one good mercy fuck, roll over and go to sleep. If politics presses you to cuddle, pry its pathetic fingers off of you and go pass out on the couch if you have to.

Sting was right about two things - Tantric Sex is just a big practical joke, and: "There are no political solutions." None. Every person who has ever thought they had the answer for everybody else was wrong. Anybody you're thinking of right now, singing to yourself, eyes closed, "if only we could get everybody to vote for him, we'd be on the right track", will either fail right away, or be successful long enough for the world to grow bored of their good ideas, and move on to something more exciting, like car races. Or that "Music is my girlfriend" iPod video. Or Grand Theft Auto 4 (when is that coming out, by the way?).

This doesn't mean give up on everything. After all, politics never had a chance. What chance could pathetic ideas have ever had against the goliath that is the natural predisposition of every human being to look out for their own, short-term selfish interests, even while pretending to care about the long-term or the greater interest every time it's convenient, like when you go to Starbucks and that hot-ass girl is at the counter again and you're all "Oh yeah, you love John Mayer? Yeah, me too, I'm gonna buy his CD right now actually. I love that song 'Waitin on the World to Change', you know? It's like, he's so, right, you know?" and you take the cd home, never open it, and in three months give it to your 11 year old cousin for Easter.

Stop listening to everybody; absolutely every person that tries to hand you any kind of received wisdom, or inherited truth. Religion is the best example. I don't need to explain it to you though, because you're so smart, aren't you? Yeah, you read Christopher Hitchens' sniveling little treatise. Here you go, Chris: Stalin. That's right. Stalin. The dude massacred hmmm, I dunno, ten million people, and he didn't need a single God or Mahomet or freaky Native American Jesus to sanction it for it to happen. How? Because he just used a dangerous idea to exploit the worst parts of human nature, and then did it en masse. All because a bunch of people thought he had a solution.

So stop caring. Stop thinking you can change anything. Stop thinking about fixing the world and instead just start caring about fixing yourself. You're out of shape, fatty. You'd better get to the gym before you have to buy another set of pants because you outgrew your last set again. You know you could just save some money if you bought elastic waistbands... yeah, I know, they're not as comfortable and they leave those weird hash marks on your hips, like silly putty on a screen door. That's right, I said your love handles are like silly putty. What're you gonna do about it, fatty?