Can we talk about something else? Can we talk about something else? I'm going to Oh, Every eye sees its own special vision.

Every ear hears a most different song,

and each man's troubled heart and incision

would reveal a unique and shameful wrong.

Stranger fiends hide here in human guise that reside in the valleys of hell.

But goodness, kindness, and love arise,

and the heart of the poor beasts as well.

Dean Coons, the bad place.

I've been repeating that poem in my mind since I read it almost 20 years ago.

I'm not 100% sure why. Maybe because it sounds cool,

maybe because I wanted to see if my brain could still memorize things after

blitzing it with drugs in my teens. But as I get older, I think the reason is because I knew it held an important meaning.

What you see is certainly not always what you'll get if you stick around someone long

enough.

There is no pure evil or pure good in people. There are streaks

within us, like marbling and meat that may never be exposed, even to ourselves, unless

the right combination of factors fall into place.

From the homeless woman who jumps into a subway pit to rescue a dummy who follow the glow of their smartphone over the yellow line to the proper politician who finds himself alone with a child and discovers a dark desire.

Most of us don't know our base selves until tested.

We can claim what we do in this situation or that, but it doesn't mean shit until we face crisis,

temptations, strain, we really don't know who we truly are. It's been my experience

that most of us are just waiting for this whole life thing to blow over. We don't want any

...