I’m the great inquisitor AstonishingGardenDoorWithPelican. I will hold anyone who speaks against me responsible with their lives and my red hordes will burn down the homes, string up the rebels and their secret backscratchers, henchmen, tools and backers and offer those who wants to love me an icy, judgmental look, while my pen jumps over the paper in quick, resilient accusations that overtake each other and hit your inner soul edifice so you become as weak as I and my underpaid employees. In me, in my language actions, the struggle of vulnerability against cynicism degenerates into inquisition. Where are your preambles when you speak? Where are your papers? May I see your papers? Sometimes I jump out of my red robe and run after you. I force you to the ground and shout: Cynic! Cynicism is barking at other people. Cynicism is offering oneself to bark. Cynicism is degrading oneself. Phenomena like the internet have pushed the nervous wrecks back and made sensitive people sicker than we deserve, but we get up with glowing eyes. [Thx to Ricky Gervais for being the inspiration for this. :-)]
