You ever wonder what we're clinging onto, what the death-grip is for?
There's a guy who comes into my place of work. I've known a couple of people who have had electro-shock treatment, back in the bad old days when they used that to 'cure' schizophrenia by burning bits of your brain out. Imagine that for a second. You hear God in the TV and the cure for that is destroying parts of whatever-the-hell makes up you.
Anyway, this guy, he the right age and has the right symptoms for a post-treatment schizophrenic. And he's going away. He keeps telling us, between his demands for tea, his admonishments about the five cents in tips he gives us every week and his clarifying the distinction between God and man, that he's going away to Darwin.
What for, I think. Are they going to perform research on the burnt bits of his brain, looking for God in the sizzled synapses? I dunno. All I care about is that for a coupla weeks he won't be pissing me the hell off.