If you ever see a man carrying a gun putting down the KFC, avoid if at all possible. These people have greasy trigger fingers, and a low self esteem. Take, for example, the case of R113. I met R113 in the park one day while he was putting down some KFC, balancing the box on his pre-tender Glock. I stopped to ask this R113 why he was parked in the park, and R113 became sullen and sulky as a result. He refused to identify himself to me, and could not understand why I wanted him to not park in the park. He had no idea what he wanted, really. He was all kind of adrift and lost. Sometimes I’d see R113, with that little dent above the tow-bar, driving really fast over very short distances. I don’t think that one is happy at all.

KFC also causes renal failure, which can lead to blindness. Remember Spurling Mortlock in Supersizeme? Remember how you’d often, in the days when men were forced to go to war (instead of the current situation where, perversely, men choose to go to war), hear the story of the conscriptee shooting himself in the foot. That kind of thing happened daily in the Somme, man! You put a human being under a certain amount of pressure and he starts to fold; starts imploding; takes the walls down around him; will do a thousand rash things; may even, in obscurity, take his own life. I’m not suggesting that’s what a certain inmate had in mind recently, but it does seem to fit the profile. After all, if your doctor tells you, “You have hypertension”, then you’ve got bloody hypertension and should bloody well listen to the bloody doctor. Instead, the pressure slowly mounts inside and you find yourself wanting to submit to examination (how pathetic! how banal!) less and less, and the people who came to see you in the beginning aren’t coming anymore and always have some pathetic, weakling excuse, and you hate them more and more and you start to burn with hate, with hate deep inside that starts to fester and grow. While slowly, and steadily the pressure rises. Your doctor tells you to stop eating meat. Fuck him. Let’s get us a nice big bucket of KFC and screw everyone.

After a while it dawns on you. The only way you can ever screw anyone over again is by guilt tripping them with the KFC. For a while the pain is numbed. You just become detached, quasi depressed and just sort of not into anything anymore really. You drift, you wander in your thoughts, and after a while the lights in the room get too bright for you. So you drag yourself to the doctor and say: “I think I’m going blind.” And the doc looks at you funny and then tells you what you really didn’t expect to hear which is “You’re right.” And oy Gott were there tears. Was there a dry eye in the place? I think I heard similar music in “Hansie”. Phone calls, phone calls, so many phone calls. Is anyone listening? Until eventually someone manages to pull a string. With a very greasy finger.

So if we ban operating guns under the influence of the KFC, then we can also ban borrowing money under the influence of the KFC. Which is exactly what we have here and now in so many instances. It’s easy to lend money to people with low self esteem. All you do is surround them with images of people who have a high self esteem borrowing money. In one particular case you may find yourself at a church where people regularly give each other large sums of money and keep it floating around in there like a pool or some kind of communal midden/bog. Then you would be more likely to accept money from this church, if it was ever offered to you. And once you started taking that money there, well… it’s a long and slippery slope. Needless to say, in much the same way as the man with hypertension, things get out of hand pretty quickly. The more you borrow, the more you feel your self esteem chipped out from underneath you.


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