Denis

"sometimes there's a crazy one in the street. he lifts his feet carefully as he walks. he ponders the mystery of his own anus. while the american dollar collapses against the german mark he's thinking of Bette Davis and her old movies. it's good to bear on things arcane and forbidden. if only we were crazy enough to be willing to ignore our mechanical and static perceptions we'd know that a half-filled coffee cup holds more secrets than, say, the Grand Canyon. sometimes there's a crazy one walking in the street. he slips past walks with a black crow on his shoulder is not worried about alarm clocks or approval. however, almost everybody else is sane, knows the answer to all the unanswerable questions. we can park our automobiles carve a turky with style and can laugh at every feeble joke. the crazy ones only laugh when there is no reason to laugh. in our world the sane are too numerouse, too submissive. we are instructed to live lives of boredom. no matter what we are doing, screwing or eating or playing or taking baths or flying to India we are numbered, sadly sane. when you see a crazy one walking in the street honor him but leave him alone. stand out of the way. there's no luck like that luck nothing else so perfect in the world let him walk untouched remember Christ also was insane."