The Dog Book

I've got no time for a dog, ma.  Since Socrates (and just about every philosopher since that wonderful dead Greek dude) said "love is lack", then it stands to reason we hate what we've got too much of.  So why on earth do all those puritanical shalt-notters still think they can possibly look forward to a welcome? 

That aside, I don't think it's hate you're subjected to.  I think it's more likely some cosmic being realising he's made a cosmic fuck-up by allowing little men to run around doing things in his name when the truth is, he couldn't care less about their insignificant prayers for young Jasper to do marvellously well in his accounting exams or Mary-Beth to not get pregnant from sitting on a public toilet seat because we know she wouldn't do anything else that might lead to such a circumstance.  Or more importantly, pray that Jasper doesn't knock his sister up in celebration because then we'd just have to call it an immaculate conception, praise be.

What were we talking about again?