Excerpts

I’m thinking of writing a short story featuring a character who is extremely disillusioned with life. Here are some things I’d imagine he/she would say:

Life is like reading a great work of literature and marvelling at the symbolism and the nuance, and then meeting the author and learning that he didn’t intend any of it.

The disciples were always calling themselves “fishers of men.” Or was it Jesus who called them that? Who the hell remembers. Anyway, if Jesus is a fisher of men, he’s been playing some kind of demented catch and release game with me. This sure would be ironic if I had been a priest or something. Think about it. All this fuckin irony, wasted on little old me.

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