Dance Monkey Dance

by illimitableoceanofinexplicability

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Yes, I received your postcard yesterday

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Hilarious! Is that supposed to be me? Is that what I am to you, an organ grinder’s monkey? Chosen for my thumbs, chosen for my ability to hold a cup for which to receive bits of change in, chosen for my inability to fight back at the ill treatment I receive from the organ grinder?  Maybe you’re the organ grinder, had you thought of that? No one blames the monkey, pity’s him, yes, are disgusted by his grotesque similarities to man, no doubt, but it is the organ grinder who is in the end responsible. Even Orwell, friend to the working man, said of the organ grinder “To ask outright for money is a crime, yet it is perfectly legal to annoy one’s fellow citizens by pretending to entertain them.” So, maybe I do pretend to entertain while all the while, in reality, only annoying, but it is you who turn the crank, you who trained me to dance to the music, and chatter meaninglessly on for hour after hour for your own enrichment, it is you who disturbs, troubles and slightly irritates me, and, well, honestly, I kind of like it. Thanks for the postcard.

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