("The only tyrant I accept in this world is the 'still small voice'
within me. And even though I have to face the prospect of being
a minority of one, I humbly believe I have the courage to be in
such a hopeless minority." -- Mahatma Gandhi)
"What do you know of the world?" he accuses
me, voice fluctuating over the idle-engine murmur.
"I've been to the end of the earth
and back; I've seen people die, good people,
and I've heard heartless men laugh;
I've worked for more capitalistic slobs
than you've lived years
and I've been one of them, too. You don't know
anything but idealistic prattle. Nobody cares anymore,"
-- the light turns green and he leaves
angry burning rubber behind him in the night --
"and Gandhi's dead."
I don't say anything. (Satyagraha.)
I wonder who'd been dead for Gandhi
and why that matters.
Mobile post sent by skiegazer using Utterz. Replies. mp3