Wednesday, May 15, 2013


Dogs are slavish followers. Cats are badasses. Even our language favors felines. Bad men are dogs; cool people are cats. Dogs lick themselves because they can. Cats do it because they want to, and if you don't like it, they'll get all grumpy on your ass and cough up a hairball to show you who's boss.
Space Cat sits on a magic mushroom and trips up to Mars. I mean, think about it: felines even have their own weed to get high. Chew on that, canines.
Cats can cozy up to evil people and still look cool doing it. No doubt Lenin's cat threw down a few hairballs in his day, just to keep Vladimir in line. And smart playas like Albert Einstein knew the score; the fuzzy-haired fellow once said the only escape from the miseries of life are music and cats. He had that right.

John Lennon, Mark Twain, and Freddy Mercury dug cats. Nikola Tesla started grooving on electricity while petting his cat, which makes his feline one better than Edison.

Mostly, I think I'm a cat man because it's all about the existential attitude, the truth that this is an absurd life. Henri, le Chat Noir, sums it up best:

I am free to go, yet I remain.

We cannot escape ourselves.

I alone feel this torment.

1 comment:

Donna said...

You're a badass cat my friend.