I wander the house, drinking wine for breakfast. Touching everything that belongs to both of us. Gently, O - so. Gently, like a tender lover running one curled finger under the chin of a woman. Only precious things are ever touched this way.

They say that there is only one of everyone. And. Only the rare becomes precious. But how many people do you know that are actually precious to you? And how rare is it, not to feel like a Ming Vase held by a monkey, when in the arms of a lover?

And in the whole of the world, how many people actually know the magnitude of what they are breaking? Most people, they hear the breaking smash and simply say, "It wasn't me." They try and look busy.

Gently, O - so. Gently. Newspaper, carefully folded into a square. Just so. I sit at the kitchen table, sipping wine, and reading about crime.

I set down the paper and say to no one,

"We'll put a gun in the hand of just about any fucking monkey, won't we?"

Maybe the problem lies not in the fact that so many are armed, but in that not everyone is. Maybe we should arm every fucking human, and see if that works any better. Instant equality. Bullets don't give a damn about your color, race, or creed. Halleluiah, Equality. No longer will we be a race of armed monkeys verses unarmed monkeys. Universally armed, everybody wins the race. We'll be equal as well as winners. Halleluiah and, 'Thank you so much for playing.'

Would the world be more accepting of equality if it came, once and for all, from the barrel of a gun? And. Would people have listened better to Christ's talk of peace if He had been armed at the time? Would people have listened like their lives depended on it?

People won't listen to a lot of things without the implied, 'Or Else.' Maybe after three days time, Christ should have come back guns a-blazing. That would have been memorable. As it is, in a room full of people, how many actually know how long Christ came back for, or what He did, post-resurrection? Rumor has it, He ascended. But no one really saw.

Humans are animals requiring discipline. To the people in charge, there was not adequate repercussion. O - sure. There's Hell. The place where what you do comes back to you. To a certain mentality, Christ was crucified and fucking took it. Sure - He came back after a few days, but left again and no one has heard from Him since.

And Why is it that the word, 'kind,' runs caboose on the end of humankind, like some kind of terminally optimistic divorcee, grabbing madly at the ass of what should have been?

After that thought, I run out of wine.