Never Pretend You Are A King Until You Have Admitted You Are A Pauper

Citizens, sometimes we are asses.

We expect the world to dance to our tune and make the steps we imagine in our own mind. We expect the door to swing open on perfection as our eyes would see it, and we expect destiny itself to sweep us forward gently and inexorably in a triumphant rush.

But there are others in our world. No one stands alone, not even the cheese. We dream of getting our way, but in the world where we live that means walking on the backs of our brothers. We all want what we want. We can’t all have it: there are only so many donuts in the box.

There are other walkers in the garden. Offer them flowers before you pick your own. Let their smile be your bouquet.

In Case of Water Landing, Apply Liberally to Face and Teeth

Citizens, this is not the time for timidity.

There are weighty issues afoot. The economy, civil rights, terrorism, the environment, the inexplicable popularity of Charlie Sheen – the stakes have never been higher. And there are still millions on millions of people whose minds are starving for the surreal.

The White Linen Pants Collective believes that we would all benefit from a greater sense of the surreal. Worlds spin around us in empty, pointless majesty. All that lives is born to diet. Surrealism is existential bravado in the face of repression, senility, and an endless parade of Adam Sandler movies. Practice it daily like a monk doing penance for a life misspent as a libertine.  Living weirdly is its own reward.

Go to a cafe and teach the tables Spanish. Invite a turtle to lunch. Fly a kite by moonlight. Kiss your flashlight goodnight. Write a movie script about a day in the life of a matchbook in your kitchen drawer. Wear your top hat and tails to the high school track meet.

Live, citizens! Live!