A Fist Before Dying


There is no kind of freedom and liberty other than the kind which the market economy brings about. In a totalitarian hegemonic society the only freedom that is left to the individual, because it cannot be denied to him, is the freedom to commit suicide.
— Ludwig von Mises


Man, there sure is a lot of people dying these days. More than usual, it seems. I mean, I don’t claim to be an expert on the matter, but the fact of it is that people die everyday. Anyone ‘d know that. And that’s every single day, understand. Death is not lazy. She doesn’t have benefits or a pension plan. Perpetual work. Good thing too, considering how many people are dropping dead lately. Oh, but I should explain myself. I don’t mean to assign death a female quality out of spite, I’m just a bit old fashioned. Cars, death, and boats are women. Always have been, always will. Don’t ask me why, that’s just the way it is. But if I was to guess, I’d say it’s because cars and boats are sort of sexy-like with their sleek curves and sensual indulgences. Much like womenfolk. But death? Well, shit. I should just shut up while I’m ahead.

It’s not that I feel about death the same way I feel about women and cars. Well, maybe it is. All I know is that since I started noticing how many people it is that have been dying lately, I’ve been happy again. For the first time in a long time. Probably since that thing with the markets. Then everything turned to shit. Well, I don’t think of it as shit, but that’s what everyone else is saying. Never was much of a surprise to me, but then again, I never had much faith in a system based on a roomful of angry little men in blazers shouting and gesturing wildly at each other. But what do I know? 

‘Course, I got eyes all the same and I been noticin things. Always have.

I’m an observant sonofabitch, I am. I see things everyday. Most of them is real, too. I see them on Newschannel 4. That’s where they show all the news that doesn’t matter anymore. Stuff like people dying in large numbers, football scores and other stuff I usually don’t bother with. Lately, though, Newschannel 4 has been all death, all the time.

‘Course, they never call it by name. They use that flowery language so often favoured by politicians and newscasters. Like “passed away.” “Lost” was the first choice, but it seemed better suited to small scale death. Death with a small “d”, if you will. Capitalized death is a whole different animal. “Five thousand people were lost today” sounds pretty bleak, but “five thousand people passed away today” is positively heartwarming in comparison. 

None of it sounds right if you ask me. Just doesn’t sound right. Doesn’t roll off the tongue the way “three strikes… yer out!” or “all things come of thee oh lord and of thine own have we given thee” does. Doesn’t feel right. Makes you feel as though you should apologize without knowing why or what you’re sorry for.

But I guess I don’t really care. I know how I feel and I won’t be told differently. Told what to feel, that is. Most everyone seems alright with it, but maybe they don’t know any different. It was that way long before things got bad. No one cared or noticed then, so why should it be different now?

And maybe I should do something about it, maybe I should go outside and grab the first person I see and give them a good hard shake and scream into that blank stare until I get some kind of reaction. Sometimes I find myself on the way downstairs. Sometimes I’m halfway out into the street when I come to my senses, like waking up in the middle of a sleepwalk, disoriented. Sad that it was all just a dream, but grateful for the exercise.

There’s never anyone one outside anyway. So I drag myself back up the stairs, put on the kettle, sit down infront of Newschannel 4 and start observin again.

But someday, oh someday I’m gonna do somethin. For now, though, I’m just too happy to care. But maybe someday I’ll do something. Maybe before I’m lost or passed away.

Maybe before I die.


One Response to “A Fist Before Dying”

  1. 1 Gessy

    Complacency is worst than death. This one really hit a nerve – in a good way.

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