I must say a word about morons.
Morons are so inspiring;
they are life’s only opponents.
Only morons can defeat life.
The reason why morons stick so closely to life
isn’t biological necessity;
it’s envy.
Life is so beautiful
that morons have fallen in love with it –
a jealous, possessive love
that grabs at what it can.
Morons are treacherous adversaries,
how well I know;
they have no decency,
respect no convention,
show no mercy.
They think they go to your weakest spot,
which they think they find with unnerving ease.
Being a moron is a beautiful religion
of brotherhood an devotion.
Idiocy loves company,
and madness calls it forth.
To choose idiocy
as a philosophy of life
is akin to choosing immobility
as a means of transportation,
but who cares anyway?
But I don’t insist.
I don’t mean to defend morons.
I know morons are no longer
in people’s good graces;
idiots face the same problems:
certain illusions about their sharp wits
plague them both.
The presence of morons
is the finest of rewards.
Yes,
so long as morons are with me,
I will not die.
Amen.