America is the worst. If it isn't some wrist watch toting, baseball cap wearing factory worker dumbing down society than it's a Washington bureaucrat telling me when to think, what to think and how to think it. This country is home to the dense and the lethargic, and I am drained from having to deal with it.
I am bombarded daily by the moronic imagery of American "popular" culture; whether it is Donald Trumps face glaring at me from the side of a bus informing me that I have been "fired" or some hooligan wearing a t-shirt emblazened with a "witty" catch phrase from his favorite television sitcom. And with an intellect like mine it can be quite stressful to have the senses intruded on by these calling cards of idiocy.
I yearn for the days of cobblestone, when a charming hansom cab could be seen moving slowly through the night with a lovestruck couple aboard, and an elegant trolley car would be heard clanging it's delightful bell as it shuttles about the town. This is when society peaked. The population was filled with an intelligencia not seen today; they appreciated actual talent, like Al Jolson, and were not mystified by the parlor tricks of a David Blaine; music enjoyed by the majority was actual music, consisting of notes, tempo and vibrato, not the guttural popularized today by The Yin-Yang Twins, Panic! At the Disco and countless others.
It saddens me to know that I am stuck living amidst a generation of slack-jawed gawkers who want nothing more out of life than diet cola, a hamburger made at the speed of light and mindless drivel propagated as infotainment.
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