As is often the case. I look around. I see black. Why do a fairly large portion of us (the population?) often think that black is, in and of itself, om inous and/or gloomy?
Is it interesting to ruminate over the fact that one doesn’t have to be evil? That one chooses to be evil over, say, being nice? Is it even interesting that one does not have to be evil? That it is something one decides to be or do (perhaps, say, rather than eat a pizza; or dress up in a pizza costume)? Is that even a fact (that nobody has to be evil; that one, rather, chooses to be evil)? Aren’t facts sometimes funny and tragic simultaneously? Are facts (like I am here, for example) even