I’m pretty sure I must have been lucky enough to get picked up by the cab driver they actually based Mel “I love The Jews!” Gibson’s character on in Conspiracy Theory tonight, after a fourteen hour day at work.
This motherfucker was sitting there, listening to recordings of some woman who was reciting the atrocities suffered at the hands of the US by captured Afghani & Iraqi soldiers; eyes set to rolling in his head whenever we were stopped at a red light.
“Limbs pulled taut by unseen hands, my head was forced underwater. Water burning into my lungs, I was now drowning, unable to break free.“
I just sat there, staring out the widow as we eased our way down 7th Avenue through Chelsea – trying not to listen. That’s when he decided to speak to me…
Cabbie: “You see up ahead – they got the blue memorial lights up in the sky?”
Me: “Yeah, it’s Thursday. They do this every year.”
Cabbie: “This country is fucked up, you know. Did you catch any of the RNC? Did you watch it?”
Me: “Yes, I watched it. It looked like a Corpse Convention – every person I saw had this awful green Zombie-like pallor to them.”
Cabbie: “Ha! Zombies! McCain looks like he’s dead. He’s not what he used to be. This country is fucked, I’m telling you. And Obama? He thinks he can change it. Good luck, buddy – they’re gonna kill you.”
At this point, I kind of clammed-up and went back to looking out the window for anything that would distract me from having a political discussion with a typically nutty NYC cab driver. My eyes kept on drifting toward those two blue lights; those eerie monoliths. I was starting to stir a little, I suppose – and the cabbie quite possibly picked up on it.
Cabbie: “How can you fix this? You can’t fix something this broken – it’s useless. Insane. Nothing good can come from this.”
Me: “You know your mythology, brother?
Cabbie: “A little, yeah?”
Me: “Alright then – The Phoenix. That is the only fucking way. You have to burn the shit down to rebuild it again. Just torch our entire system and turn it to ash, so it can be recreated, and hope to whatever deity you bow your kooky head to that motherfuckers have learned themselves something and do it the right way the next time.”
Cabbie: “You’re crazy. I bet you buy into all those Peak Oil lies, too – dontchya? There’s fucking oil everywhere, man – under the sea, in parts of the world where people don’t live, oil in every nook and cranny of this planet. And we need to get it all. If we don’t have it, we’ll be fucked. Goddamn internet makes everyone a fucking scientist.”
Me: “I never said anything about Peak Oil, brother. But now that you’ve mentioned it – I’ve read a lot about it on the internet. When did YOU graduate from MIT, Mr. NYC Cabbie?”
Cabbie: “Oh, you fucking wiseass! This is what’s wrong with this fucking country – everyone is a fucking wiseass! You’re probably right about destroying it to fix it, I’ll give you that.”
Me: “And you know what else would help? If fucking kids had to do at least two years of some kind of mandatory Civil/Military/Community Service. Get those goddamn ungrateful little consumers doing something in their communities, as opposed to dicking around playing video games and pretending to give a shit about college. Make them do something meaningful, for fuck’s sake.”
Cabbie: “You know, this empire needs to fall. This Administration has ruined this country, and nobody in the whole fucking world likes or trusts this country anymore. It’s worse than Rome.”
Me: “I’ll bounce out right there, on that corner.”
I handed him a twenty, and told him to keep the change. Fucking guy sat there staring at me for a good long minute, and then he asked me:
Cabbie:“What do you do for a living? What field are you in?”
I smirked at him.
Me: “I work for God, Sir. I work for God.”
I looked toward The City, and I could still see those twin blue lights…
HAKUNA MATATA, BITCHES!