What's a Biker Got To Be Angry About?

Yeah, I know it's amazing. What does a biker have to be angry about?

Perhaps the fact that kids do their 12 years of school and leave uneducated and hating education? They'll do well.

Nah.

Maybe it's the upcoming election, with the choice of "Worser and Worserer"?

Nope...

Ok, maybe, but that ain't it. Just maybe it's the fact that there hasn't been a movie as good as Casablanca since...Casablanca. And please, don't tell me about your favorite movie featuring an overaged teen black/hispanic/oriental (politically correct not-quite-such-a-minority of your choice) in a hilarious romp with deep political overtones and, oh yeah, really awesome FX.

Uh uh.

The price of gas. Yeah, I know, but that's not it either. At least I get 40+ miles per gallon two-wheeling it.

So could it be the fact that the psychiatric industry has manufactured hundreds of mythological diseases for your dining pleasure?

Now we're getting someplace.

I mean, who wants to be normal anyway? You could be one of the lucky many with one of those brain-chemical imbalances that medical science has no proof of, no tests for, no way to measure, and which was thoroughly debunked as bozo science in front of a Congressional investation a couple years back. But so what? Just cuz there isn't any medical basis for it doesn't mean you might not have it, right?

You know -- just because you're schizophrenic, it doesn't mean they aren't after you. Think about it.

So go ahead -- get your brain rebalanced! Yeah, right now; I'll wait. Don't worry, it'll just take a minute. Your head will spin a lot easier if its balanced better.

Having a made up disease, complete with doctor-approved expensive medications, is really a great time-saving convenience. You'll wonder how you ever didn't get along without it! Every time you screw up, you now have a good reason -- every bit as good as government's "plausible deniability". It wasn't YOUR screw up -- it's your damn imbalanced brain, spinning off center from being off balance.

Must be the dosage. Or maybe it depends on what the defintion of "is" is. Either way, you're set, bucko! Good job. Now you can be the life of parties, fit in in a crowd, never be upset...or happy...or sad because a friend died...or... you get the picture.

All right. All the good little robots out there can now tell me how (drug of choice) made their life better. Yeah -- like your problem was a shortage of (drug of choice) in your bloodstream.

Nobody likes to believe they've been sold a lemon. It's embarrasing, so you just say "it's great" and make like you won the lottery. But somebody has to say your lottery's got no clothes, and man, it should really put something on because it don't look so good that way.

So I'll tell you just this once, and then you can say I told ya.

You don't need that crap. It has never done you or anybody any good, it isn't doing you any good now, and it won't in the future. Everything positive you think IT did, YOU did.

That's what I have to be angry about. They're taking credit for your good works.

Ponder THAT. Or not.