Drunk Uncle Philosophy

Nobody else matters. Compassion is useless because you'll wind up being hurt again. It's about the people you know. You're here and nothing else matters.

There's a whole lot of news I'm not interested in that they insist on telling me anyway.


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My great grandmother's house was in the middle of nowhere. 5 miles from any neighbor with the whole property bordered by barbed wire. Every spring, the children, all eight of them, would get packed up to spend a week or two with grandma and gramps. It was hell. The only interesting thing about it were the cats. If they didn't want to play with you, you were screwed. Great grandpa illegally hunted in the woods and there was a spring fed pool. There was also a springhouse. It wasn't much, maybe a 10 x 10 building with a decrepit roof and slippery stairs to the water. However, the spring water wasn't always safe to drink. It was all a worthless show, because they had long been connected to the public water system. But every spring, they continued the tradition despite it. Once a year, all eight children and gramma would stand inside the spring house and throw a fish into the water. If it died, they all got to watch a fish die. If it lived, the water was safe to drink, and you could drink it. If you wanted, but no one did. Afterwards you could always check up on the trapped fish in the spring house. It's an odd thought, fish in a house.