\u201eMaybe I could live by my wits. The eight-hour day was impossible, yet almost everybody submitted to it. And the war, everybody was talking about the war in Europe. I wasn\u2019t interested in world history, only in my own. What crap. Your parents controlled your growing-up period, they pissed all over you. Then when you got ready to go out on your own, the others wanted to stick you into a uniform so you could get your ass shot off. [\u2026]<\/p>\n
The war. Here I was a virgin. Could you imagine getting your ass blown off for the sake of history before you even knew what a woman was? Or owned an automobile? What would I be protecting? Somebody else. Somebody else who didn\u2019t give a shit about me. Dying in a war never stopped wars from happening.\u201d<\/p>\n
Charles Bukowski: \u201eHam on Rye\u201c (1982), S. 325<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u201eMaybe I could live by my wits. The eight-hour day was impossible, yet almost everybody submitted to it. And the war, everybody was talking about the war in Europe. I wasn\u2019t interested in world history, only in my own. What … Weiterlesen