I’m beginning to wonder confess that drawing inspiration from my incessant fixation with my Red Wings my scuffed up beaten but not defeated Red Wings lapsing into ungrammatical stream of consciousness may not be entirely wholesome let’s not even get into normal as if we can all agree on what constitutes normality who is truly normal we all have our quirks and fetishes our compulsions and obsessions we get away with most of them after all the Great Central Authority that surveils us all is not entirely intolerant but back to normality such a wide swath of relativism I remember way back in the day a tattoo was a bold extreme statement a beacon of defiance a middle digit pointed at mores propriety acceptance societal niceties tattoos who bore them back in the day outlaw bikers ex-cons sailors who got drunk went on a bender got tattooed hating themselves in the morning Maggie inked within a rose red heart not remembering who the hell Maggie is outsiders aberrant fringe people but whoa look at today how things change your dentist c.p.a. personal trainer life counselor benign bagger at the check out abound with tattoos on their arms legs torsos faces and not to mention a rising penchant for piercings brandings ritualistic self-mutilations we’ve come a long way baby today the unmarked pristine epidermis people are the freaks and weirdos so what is normal let me tell you about the most normal man who ever lived he hailed from Missouri and was a haberdasher he became president and with little reflection ordered atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima then while everyone was in shock and could not respond dropped another one on Nagasaki hundreds of thousands of civilians died many in slow agony he was a common man named Harry just plain Harry he never lost a minute of sleep he was just like you and me-

well maybe you.

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