heroic lycanthrope it seemed people weren't allowed to die anymore. by some strange inversion, a heroic death almost seemed cowardly in this century. it used to seem reasonable to die for a cause, or to just live a short life and then go. this could be because people thought there was somewhere to go afterwards. or even just going into the hearts of others seemed like enough from what i've read, but it isn't enough now. oh people still talk about heroes and heroic deaths but it seems to ring so hollow. oh as if they chose it or but they died people will say. people are now scraped along history and almost nothing seems heroic, except for - well no one believes anyone would ever choose anything but to live in Los Angeles and to live, keep on living damn the costs. The survivor is the hero now, the one who the used life instructs is the star. the star does not die. We know that now. TV, science, art tells us. Even some of religious wars, the mortal adversary system side of them, seem to hint it's doctrine of sorts. You're either an attendant star, a supernova, a lowly sattelite skirmish, or a sun. And in america, you all have to want to be suns. and what a hideous sky that makes, polluted and so bright there's no hiding from it. until eventually it's a joke - the whiter your teeth get, the dirtier the sky, and there'll still be the vanity: i'm surviving! well muscled, smiling, fine coat slung over the shoulder (while clots of dirty rain fall down like the heavy bodies of half eaten locusts). No. To be a hero now, you have to live forever, because death is stupid. Something dumb our ancestors did like pray for rain. 040413 what's it to you? who go blather from