China-focused Satire, Social Commentary, Comics and More

The War on Dreams: Part III

Dear dead turtle who was laying on top of a lot of live turtles,

Let me begin by saying your belly shell design was beautiful and vaguely reminded me of the femo beads I used to make as a child. The sway of your lonely clay body made us feel uncomfortable, as if someone had slipped us drugs. The fact that your face refused to focus gave us even more surreal shivers, and when your body spun like the wheel of fortune in a 3d animation version of life and you began singing – not with the expected voice of a young turtle but a full marching band – and where did you get that coat, hat and baton? Oh, what a show you put on! And we began to wonder if maybe we had inhaled some silly smoke but then, with that question posed aloud, the spell was broken leaving us to find ourselves back in the loud, crowded, smelly gray of Mong Kok.

And you just laid there. That was when we knew. Your demise was not an innocent case of death by motion sickness but something much more sinister. The indications lie in the femo patterns as well as the fact that you are on top, even in your state of being dead: You are a casualty.

Now, dear turtle, with that recognized, let us assure you – when this war comes to an end (as all wars must eventually) the memory of your youth and valor will be commemorated with a statue or daytime tv show. Unless, of course, the dreamers lose, in which case your renegade spirit would be better appreciated through imprints of your face on t-shirts for the dissatisfied but complacent youth of tomorrow. Either way, thank you for showing us your light, even for just a moment. And though we must, for prosperity’s sake, stay on the winning (money) side of the war, perhaps someday the tide will change and we will float with you, shoulder to shell towards the waxing moon, where it is said that dreams are made. Until then, may you rest in peace.


This Ridiculous World

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