Like any rational being, in my daily work albergo fetishistic behaviors. I have a deep fondness for one kind of seemingly ordinary objects: moccasins. I love them. Always I feel conpungido go out to search the shoe stores in search of a pair of moccasins that catches my attention. I am happy mood, when my conscience is taken away with his sexy ways. I love walking around town with a good pair of shoes on my feet. My steps are no longer sound like two suckers and acquire a more stately. Thanks to the moccasins I can forget for a moment that I am a penguin and I feel human.
Last week, I was immersed in this ritual when I ran into atavistic rivals moccasins: the dog shit. So, I was lost in the clatter of my soles on the asphalt when a slippery surface made me slip. I did not fall al suelo, peró mi mocasín derecho quedó embadurnado de excremento de can. Aún se puede escuchar por el centro de la ciudad el eco de mi grito.
Me pasé más de 30 minutos frotando el zapato contra todas las sueprfícies rugosas de la calle, aunque poco pude hacer, pues la frescura de la mierda le proporcionaba a ésta un agarre maldito en todos los recobecos de mi zapato.
Cansado, decidí continuar con mi viaje de regreso a casa y subitámente me percaté de un problema. Mi pie olía a mierda y tenía intención de coger el autobús. Si entraba inundaría este pequeño recinto de la delatora fragancia anexada a mi pata. Así que empecé a cabilar sobre las implicaciones moral of this action. It was not difficult to conclude that enter the bus was not only immoral but a civic duty. I had to go and share with everyone in the bus of the dire consequences that carry abandoned dog feces on the sidewalk where landmine. Only through this unpleasant experience, people assume the responsibilities of owning a dog involved.
With these thoughts my mind began to wander. I looked like a revolution strut anti-dog shit. I thought in acts of revenge, which would be to collect the feces and deposit them on the doormat of the owner uncivil. Voluntarily stepping on mines and go organic crowded places like shopping malls, cinemas and bars. If it did with systematic, people end up fearing the abandoned shit would try by all means avoid them.
much time immersed in these speculations was finally where I was captain of a civic movement that reached unprecedented European level. But a terrible suspicion dismounted my illusions. I wanted to mobilize and to punish people just because shit ruined my new loafers. Sometimes in the late revolutionary spirit selfish impulse that seeks to crush the other at the whim of one's will, and gives an objective look appealing to "the cause", a higher reason.
This is the counter-argument with which every revolutionary is to fight and that underlies the liberal ironist. The inability to rationally justify the transition from idiosicrásicos items to the public sphere. Any attempt to appeal to a public order is likely to be interpreted as the swelling of a will, it hides in its midst a little Stalin.
A little embarrassed, I pulled my new shoes in a trash can and walked home like a rolling stone.
