I'm something between a baby and a toddler, and running around in a complex system of caves and stairs. I go down to a lower level cave and see a bunch of toddlers who have genetic mutations, such as extra eyes, only one eye, or even a hand coming out of one's face. I hurriedly run upstairs before they find me and assimilate me.
I run from cave to cave, finding terrifying babies and toddlers ranging from ones that are green to a whole room of them wearing glasses who will one day become scientists and doctors. Finally I find a group of children that seem normal enough. There is nothing unusual about them except they are all wearing black hoodies. They are the Social Critic babies. I decide to join them. I can criticize society, I think to myself, and immediately a black hoodie appears on me.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
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Were there literary critic toddlers?
ReplyDeletealas, no.
ReplyDeleteyou are a dreamy philosopher!
ReplyDelete