All these politicians, man

All these politicians man.

I had this conversation with a friend about politics. He said that a young person should be liberal, only in her later years should someone turn towards conservatism. I thought this was a trite observation he possibly picked up from some girl who’s trying to impress him. But I took the bait and went with it, tried to play with the idea. I generally agree, I said. People usually are liberal in their younger days because they hardly think of anything beyond their immediate concern. This is the hedonistic phase of their lives. This is that whole ‘gather your rosebuds while you may’ philosophy. It also helps that younger people usually are not propertied, so they feel they don’t have much to lose in this world.

On the other hand, older people have experienced much. They have properties, or land, or some serious adult stuff like that. So they tend to be more cognizant of protecting things. Like Protectionism if we put it economically.

But I’ve known conservative young people, and I’ve known some pretty radical older people. So there’s your counter-argument or counter-example.

It was a roadside store and on that spot immediately outside the window the shopkeeper set up a table and a few chairs. We had the conversation while eating pancit canton. We often sat there and talked and watched all the people and vehicles that passed by. Some cats passed too. We looked at them and surmised about their lives here on this earth. There are too many cats, I said, and recalled the time that there was a rumour circulating in the dormitory that the maintenance staff, in order to control the rising cat population, bagged kittens and just drowned them in some far off canal somewhere. It was true, of course. It wasn’t a rumor. I was there when they captured those cats. They were cats, not kittens. Well there were some kittens that they captured too. But mostly it was adult cats. They were of all colors – black, white, calico, yellow, orange. They were all just gathered into sacks. I have no idea whether they actually drowned the cats or not. Maybe they just released those poor animals in some far off place where they would start another colony of cats. Cats breed really fast. It’s not that they don’t have any positive contribution in this world or anything, it’s just that there’s too many of them, and the dormitory authority just does not care too much or does not have the funds to have them neutered. Maybe there should be like a dedicated or maybe even just a volunteer vet, a heroic veterinarian who would just go around and neuter cats and dogs. Maybe this person, a great individual, full of the vigour and idealism of youth, would set-up an online funding campaign. She would then post videos of the neutered cats online on her youtube page.

“Is she single?”, friend asked.

“How is that relevant in the whole veterinary undertaking?”

“Is she hot?”

“Dude, concentrate on what’s important here. It’s the cats, man.”

“Just askin dude, but please continue.”

Oh well okay, so she’s like a recent graduate. Average slim build. Likes wearing jeans and running shoes. Black long hair which she keeps in a bun because she’s an active young lady who’s into adventures and hiking and all that active stuff like mountaineering and rappelling. She had a boyfriend, but they broke up some few weeks before she started her neutering activities, because of some personal, political, religious, philosophical and ideological reasons. These people are complicated. She wears glasses because she has bad eyesight. People have remarked that she does not smile a lot. She has what is called a bitchy frowny face. But really she’s just like the Russians in this regard. A smile should only be for close friends and close relatives. The world is a cold, dark place and smiley people just don’t have a fundamental understanding of how this world functions. But that’s just me affixing my views on her, I don’t really know. She could be a happy and fulfilled person really.

So she has neutered this one cat who then began to follow her in her neuterings. It’s a black cat. A big cat. It’s called Blackie. Real creative name. She adopts the cat, or rather the cat adopts her. Cats are like that. It’s a mutual adoption sort of thing. They just bonded. You know how witches have what is called a ‘familiar,’ which is their spirit animal, only this animal ain’t just spirit but flesh too. So Blackie is like this ambassador, or like a go-between between the Vet and all Catdom. In a loud booming voice he would gather all the cats in some place and talk to them, or meow to them, about the dangers of irresponsible reproduction. He would like have this PowerPoint Presentation with slides showing photographs of kittens and cats in deplorable and horrible living situations. The cats are all gathered and staring and feeling sad. One raises a paw and asks, how can we prevent this sad sad thing from happening, mister?

And that’s how the whole cat population was controlled. No more strays and unwanted kittens. A peaceful world and society.

“Wonderful,” friend said.

“It’s a utopia of cats,” I said.

“A world where we all can live peacefully.”

“Cats and humans, God’s creatures.”

“So what happens next?”

The ex-boyfriend shows up.


The ex-boyfriend tells her he still loves her.

“Oh fuck.”

She picks up the sleeping Blackie off the floor who then wakes up and glares at this new face he hasn’t seen before. Boyfriend takes little notice of Blackie. The problem, the boyfriend begins, was that he wasn’t ready for that whole commitment thing? His boyfriend has this tic where he ends all his sentences like he’s asking a question? But he’s ready now, he says to Vet Girl. He’s ready to take it all onto the next level. He’s like all responsible and propertied now and shit, so like come on babe. But Vet Girl’s just eyein him all skeptical. “Oh really?”

“Yah really?” boyfriend says.

My friend asks the shopkeeper for a couple of boiled eggs. The shopseller is an older lady, and during certain hours she sells hardboiled eggs. There’s a technique to peeling the shell off hardboiled eggs, my friend said. The trick is to break off both ends first, then you blow air fast and hard through one hole. It’s like magic, he said. He demonstrates and huffs himself red in the face, but the shell just won’t come off in one piece.


About kara

I just like to read. Used to work in a library. My interests are horror and the gothic imagination, absurd and dark humor, urban legends, and other related unwholesome topics. I write short fiction sometimes. Older stuff:
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