The first person I saw reached out to me in love and shared an earbud with me. We set the i-pod to shuffle and we walked together in peace and harmony.
Until that fateful moment, when the protest singer, the pop tart, the indie rocker, the punk rebel, the soulful balladeer and the hip hop gangstah icon all united to make me realize how empty my dream had been. Over and over again, I realized I had not, in fact, stopped the madness. Without exception, their tainted lyricism shattered my alabaster vision of humanity's social exaltation. For they all made the same fatally dehumanizing error, the eradication of which is my new cause, the new political action that will give my life meaning and grant connectedness to my self-esteem:
Watch for the deft promotional campaign, write to your elected representatives, send your donations--unite with me and all who see the absolute necessity of ending the horrific injustice of rhyming "GIRL" with "WORLD" in every damn song and at every possible opportunity. No one is immune. Even Fiona Apple has been among the guilty. The Beastie Boys. The White Stripes! Everyone. They must be stopped. This evil practice must not be allowed to continue. At some time in the distant past, our ignorant ancestors listened to their cave music (classic rock) and had no idea. We cannot hold it against them. But now we know. Mother Earth cannot be asked to tolerate a humanity that is crushed with a foreboding sense of doom every time the word "GIRL" is uttered. There must be sanctions, legislation, and collective shame upon all perpetrators.
Elitist, out of touch, nose-in-the air politicians say that in these desperate times you're all clinging to crutches of guns and religion. I believe you're better than that. Cling with me to the crutch of Protest. Wake up! Join up!
Maybe together we can save this world.