More adventures in deleted scenes from BLEEDING KANSAS
Bleeding Kansas is an angry book. It started life even angrier. So angry, I had to cut passages like this. And STILL the pussies complained.
Honestly, who’s going to miss these people?
The smug suburban mom who got my son suspended from school for defending himself (and roundly thumping) her bully child and his sidekick. The smirking cop who knows the four-point ticket he’s writing for your being inches over the line at the intersection will financially cripple you, threatening you with worse as the color runs from your face. I see the scrawny teenage slacker who thinks throwing his trash in the street and spray-painting buildings are legitimate acts of self-expression. There’s even a trio of well-dressed professionals congregating towards the middle, and looking very much out of place. I almost laugh to see them looking so wide-eyed and lost without their smartphones.
I thought part of the appeal of zombie apocalypses was imagining all the people who had screwed you over turned into the undead. Not only do they suffer as they die, you have license—nay, an obligation—to cleave their skulls.
 |
| These are NOT nice people. |
I suppose that was my sick fixation. I must admit, if the wimps complained, it's because I left a few acid observations about certain types one meets in the course of one's journey through life, and I think some of them hit home.
Hey, I'm no prize myself. Does that help? I'm so unfit for human society I deliberately keep myself in my basement. Do humanity a favor, and see to it I stay here. Buy my books!
No comments:
Post a Comment