Voodoo Time Dot Com

There are people who, by virtue of their character or fame, the average person comes to admire - even envy. There are many rich and famous people in this world with whom the average person would trade places in a second, given the opportunity. As for myself, I am neither rich nor famous. But, nonetheless, some rat bastard out there is pretending to be me.

I just happened to check my checking account balance today, and it came up a bit short. Actually it came up a lot short. I had the automated voice droid run my last few checks. Hey! I thought, I didn’t write that check!

Or that one… or that one… or… damn.

In two days, someone has managed to write ten checks (so far) robbing me of a few thousand dollars. I spent the day closing my bank account, and trying to explain to customer service drones that I did not, in fact, intentionally drain my account of nearly all my money in the past two days. They explained that the case must now be formally investigated, results pending in five to seven business days. So I am assured that I will be hearing from a representative by the end of next week. So just try not to buy anything or pay any bills before then.

So some asshole is playing his new X-Box on his new HDTV, and consequently my wife and I now have to stay in for Valentine’s Day. This is just one more reason for me to keep hating people.

Sometimes, I can’t help thinking apocalypse can’t come soon enough.

Some days he finds himself among walking corpses, great crowds of the dead, all of them refusing to admit they’re done for, corpses mutinously continuing to behave like living people, shopping, catching buses, flirting, going home to make love, smoking cigarettes. But you’re dead, he shouts at them. Zombies, get into your graves.

– Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses