The Fascination of the Abomination

The fascination of he abomination. To become immersed in the thing that seeks to consume. When everything is abandoned behind, with gaze unmoving, slack-jawed, weak, helpless to resist. Always there, tempting. "The horror!"

There is the jungle all around, whispering dark promises, appealing to us, tempting us onward into its depths. Even in the water, all around that little tin can of a boat, there is a darkness. So easily bewitched by that Siren-like call. And yet, those that resist must have strength, a resilience to being swept away by the tide.

When all barriers are removed, no restraints, when no one seems to be watching, then the fascination slithers stealthily, engulfing in thick mire, until at last, it has wrenched every value, snatched every barrier. Then consumed by the abomination, now made one. Utterly torn away, never again the same, wild and utterly free, yet fallen, despicable in the eyes of society. Capable of anything, things unimaginable to the civilized mind.

Cast back into the boiling river the abomination from whence it came. That which eyes of seen may never be experienced. No man is strong enough alone, he is the essence of weakness.

The Scantron Machine

Clicking away
Throughout the day,
Oblivious to all else,
Living on electricity,
Consuming paper,
Unconscious and uncaring,
Yet powerful,
Determining the fate of the students,
Judging not by character,
By charisma,
By efficiency,
But only by one ability.
That most useful
And irreplaceable ability
To color in
Marked areas.
Not artistically or abstractly,
Not with willful power and thought,
But exactly, within the borders
And no further
Lest there be dire consequences
For the scantron machine
Has much power
And will punish those that dare think
Outside of the bubble it has created.
All hail the scantron machine,
For it has the power to discern
Between those who are worthy
And those that are not.
Between those that are smart
And those that are of lesser intellect.
It is the Great Fuhrer,
On its cue we must lay our fate.
When we have finished the days work,
When emptied our brains onto the scantron
And conformed our minds to fit
Into miniature bubbles of thought,
Then we must wait in great apprehension
To see what the scantron machine
Has made of our work.
Behold the excitement
The results have come back
In the form of a piece of paper
With symbols and letters on it.
Ah, what show of emotion there is
When the students gather round'
In fervent and silent pleading
That might have gained favor
Enholding the scantron machine.
Those that have not
Are faced with despair
And a future as garbage men.
Those that do,
They will be prosperous
And ever stuck in a rut
As creatures of habit.
Never daring to think,
Away from the path.
Ever obedient servants
To that great and mighty
Scantron Machine.

In honor of Finals Week.