I am one
of those who labor proudly at the immemorial task of idealizations. I am
the public who passes laws proclaiming things wrong, immoral, contrary to
my "best instincts." Thus I have after many centuries succeeded in
creating a beautiful conception--a marvelous person. This marvelous person
represents what I might be if I had neither ambition nor corpuscles,
prejudices nor ecstasties, greeds, lusts, illusions or curiosity. This
marvelous person is the beautiful image, the noble and flattering image of
itself that the public rapturously beholds when it stares into the mirror
of laws, conventions, adages, platitudes and constitutions that it has
created.
A charming image to contemplate. Learned men wax full of stern joy when
they gaze upon this image. Kind-hearted folk thrill with pride at the
thought that life is at last a carefully policed force which flows
politely and properly through the catalogued veins of this marvelous
person.
But my beggar in the street--ah, my beggar in the street knows better. My
beggar in the street, maimed and vicious, sits against the building and
wields his bladder and his slapstick on me. Whang! A platitude on the
rear. Bam! A bromide on the bean! And I shell out a dime and hurry on.
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