Friday, September 2, 2011

Antisthenes the Cynic

Doglike. That’s me, 
Which brings me 
To my next point— 

Why are you barking 

Up this tree when 
All you wanted 
Was to piss on it?


  1. No, I just wanted to walk around it a bit, sniff, wag my tail, and let you know I was here to say hello.

  2. But, but, but—there's a squirrel up there, man! And yes, when I get excited, I pee. Well, excuuuuuse ME!

  3. Doggone it, Tom, I just want to say it's a pleasure having you sniff around these here parts.

    Joe, hold it man—are you saying your indiscipline with regard to sensual pleasures knows no hounds?

  4. I am Antisthenes the Cynic.

    Piss upon me if you please, Oh disrespectful modern beings, because, as I have no eyeballs, I will not see you, and as I am made of stone, your liquid generosity will roll off me, unnoticed.

    There exist many legends about the infamous copycat cynic Diogenes of Sinope dogging my footsteps and becoming my faithful hound, but to this I will simply say: the second temple was not like the first, and the olfactory discernment of my canine followers will surely attest to my singularity in perpetuum.

    I rest in the satisfaction of knowing that history has been kind enough to reduce my ten volumes of Works to a few fragments.

    As each of these fragments consists of but a few characters, suitable for texting, my immortality is assured.

    So piss on, world.


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