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I was watching some spanish channel telenovela where this dude was in the middle of a field for apparently no reason except to make a fence with his huge beard and sledgehammer. The show kept cutting between him and these other people inside a house. All of sudden, a bright light showed up and the dude in the field appears to have died as well as the dude inside who was playing the piano. (But, knowing telenovelas as I have come to understand them in the past couple of weeks, those two are not really dead: their souls may have been stolen, but they will both come back to life at just the opportune moment. Say, when their bodies are being put into graves???? “Ay, papi!!! Tu vives!!!! No me encanta Miguel nada mas!!!!!!!!”)

This got me thinking, “WTF?????” as well as, “You know what, spanish channel TV is right. I do need a sledgehammer for no reason at all (and to stop shaving, clearly).”

I have absolutely no idea what I’d do with one but I do know that those aliens and that fence in the middle of nowhere made me realize that I’ve had a hankering to destroy something–anything–recently. Sometimes I’ll have my roommate’s guitar in my hands and be like, “I ought to Pete Townshend the crap out of this guitar…but it’s not mine so I won’t.” Sometimes I look at the walls in the kitchen and think, “Well, we don’t really need that one right there. We’d probably all be better off if it was gone. Now where’d I put my sledgehammer…”

I think it’s also just part of my job ruining my psychological makeup again. I have to organize and put together so much stuff to earn a living as well as keep my apartment in tip-top condition that sometimes the creation breeds desire for destruction; I want to be Shiva after having acted as Vishnu for so long. Then again, it could even be simpler than that: man make fire, man put out fire; man grow beard, chop logs so man can make or break house as he like. Man go buy sledehammer, beat up nerd and steal lunch money now.

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