Davis square is a small section of Somerville Massachusetts which is upper middle class, gentrified, and liberal. The square is filled with young college students and old hippies, grey haired lady professors and men with tortoise framed glasses and effeminate body language who carouse tables of Kale on Sundays as the warm and soft voice of Dian Reame floats upon the air from the open windows of Subarus and Volvos. As I was raised by upper middle class liberals I feel aesthetically at home amongst effete men and grey haired Amazonians with belly’s full of good and organic fiber. However, ideologically, I am a social conservative nationalist who wishes to minimize the influence of Islam, Liberalism, and Latin American illegal immigration by means of military presence on the Mexican border, social indoctrination at home, and merciless foreign action and thus my comfort is mainly with the aesthetics and not the individuals of the area. I do enjoy strolling amongst the Kale and the Opressed Heroin Addict Beggars and view this Liberal utopia as desirous of conservation by means which liberals find offensive: conservative means.
As I live in Davis Square and live with a Liberal Womyn roommate, I found myself engaged in a social gathering of Liberals merely 24 hours ago. Present at this gathering was my roommate’s sister, her fiancé who is in a band and is therefore very sexy to Womyn, my female roommate, and my female roommate’s effete male friend who is kind but also delusional with a beard much less full than my own hinting at low testosterone levels which perhaps amplify his effete world view. A great deal of marijuana was being smoked as is customary at a gathering of liberals and although I have grown to dislike it’s effects I decided to imbibe in the wretched plant in order to revive a nostalgia for those pleasant days in which I was a liberal and the enemy to the nation was the Conservative’s insistence that he exist and expound his social theories and not socialists, Islamists, and ennui.
What did I hear that night, dear reader? Undercover as I was I was subject to unadulterated and stoned proclamations of these liberals: that ghosts most certainly existed, that Obama’s health care reform was most certainly a benefit to the nation, that they knew their dog could sense ghosts, and that consuming large quantities of mushrooms and LSD would bring one to stop thinking and therefore reach a state of nirvana. This last observation struck me as particularly fascinating: this notion that to truly think one needed to stop thinking must be a tenant to their philosophy. As I was high on Marijuana myself and very talkative, I began to boast of a friend of mine who is a software engineer and whom I consider very intelligent but who disagrees with my negative prognosis of the economy and holds a diluted conservative worldview as is fashionable. I stated my disagreement, but affirmed passionately that despite my disagreement I was awed by my friend’s intelligence in his field.
It was this statement of admiration that caused my female roommate and host to this new social group to grow perturbed with my presence: “Um, ok, I am an art teacher, I studied art, and I teach art, and I paint. Why is a computer engineer smarter than me?” I felt my face turn red; like an imbecile I had committed a most egregious error of judgment in the company of liberals! I had proclaimed the intelligence of a software engineer (who is a liberal) so passionately that I had made insecure the holder of a prestigious degree in art history/education! To the liberal everyone is equal; an encyclopedic knowledge of water color and finger paints is equal to an encyclopedic knowledge of programming languages and electrical engineering. One can therefore assume that an encyclopedic knowledge of African American studies is of equal value to an encyclopedic knowledge of heart surgery.
I responded: “Computer engineering is much more complex and demanding intellectually than is studying the history of art and teaching children to express themselves with brushes which are dipped in paint.”
The rest of the evening was spent by the auteur in awkward silence…I had offended a WOMYN, an EDUCATED WOMYN, because I had boasted about the intellectual power of my engineer friend. In my defense, I was heavily under the influence of very good marijuana provided to the group by a very effete man who had transported this substance which turns one into a Latin via fixed gear bicycle over a distance of 7.5 kilometers.
By the end of the evening I was left with the effete elfish man and my roommate, who at one point excused herself to urinate in the washroom which was very near to my seat so I can always hear her urinating and defecating most clearly and tonight her stream was very full and strong indeed which reminded me of her Sex and I therefore asked the elf-man if he was intent on fucking my roommate at which he laughed uncomfortably and said they were just friends at which point I grew very paranoid that they would feed me poisoned quinoa so I quickly made off to my bedchambers to have marijuana induced feverish dreams in which my domineering mother attempted to seduce me and then grew furious upon my refusal and took away all of my toy dolls which were my only toys.