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368 pages, Paperback
First published April 2, 2015
There was a parade in Pas-Grand-Chose for all the mad scientists when they got off the plane. They were a curious sight with their hair sticking straight up in the air, their bottle-cap glasses and their briefcases that had smoke coming out of them. They had cardboard boxes filled with beakers and Dungeons and Dragons sets. None of them had girlfriends.
•Only a black cat saw her but it was too busy saying witty things to alert anyone.
•The declawed kitten tiptoed on the table in just its stockings.
•There was an aging black cat that had dyed its fur with a cheap bottle of dye from the pharmacy, but it wasn't fooling anybody.
•The surface of the moon on a clear night looked all dented, like it had been out drinking and driving and had now lost its licence after a crash.
•All that the Gypsy could see was the big fat moon, which looked like the bald head on a gentleman who sat in front of you at the movie theatre, blocking your view.
•The moon looked like the Day-Glo face of a wristwatch.
•His cigarette smoke wavered above his head like a French philosopher's thought bubbles.
•His sequins glimmered like a distant galaxy whose constellations were emitting their tragic messages in Morse Code.
•The dolls had red, glistening lips. They looked as if they were dying to say something but had been warned not to say another word by their teachers. Their eyes were so shiny that at times it seemed as if they were welling up with tears. Their cheeks were rosy, as if they had come in from skating moments before. And their hair was so curly that it always seemed to be shaking, as if they had just taken the pins out and now it was tumbling down and they were laughing.
"It was because of his childhood that he couldn't trust anybody."
"He didn't believe in biological families. He thought that the root of capitalism was that when we were born, our parents owned us. And he said that biological families had a knack of teaching people to band together and hate outsiders, which was essentially just getting them prepared to wage war against others."
"You were defined by being loved. Love exposed you to loneliness. Love gave you a personality but damaged you, too."
We think these are our own thoughts, but they are not. They are like frozen-dinner thoughts. We buy them already made and then heat them up in our brains a little and then think them. As if they are our own. As if thoughts didn't take any effort.