Monday mornings used to rock. There were airport calls galore. You could basically cover your lease in a few hours and end up with a good day. Now, you must be very lucky because the GPS system will pick the closest cab. Man has turned his sacred fortune over to "the old man in the cave." Order and discontinuity I say. An existentialist would go with the flow and be unconcerned. I just want to know when that train will arrive.
The taxi meter now becomes a $2.40 a mile idol that responds less to worship and more to arbitrary position. Salvation is found not in homage, charity, good works or prayer, Or, God forbid, customer service. Its now the capriciousness of a man made idol. The sanctification of the chosen it selects is short lived. He may not even know where the customer is at and that presents a service problem, as well as, metaphysical. Sin, reprisal, and redemption now enters the physical terrain.
I'm not really an apostate of this silicon overseer. For, I was never a disciple. Zion was never in our grasp. Indiscriminate parcels of good fortune bestowed with annoying deference only undermines good intentions.
I embrace life but know being alive is complicated and imbalanced. No amount fairness can ever be enforced.
This system causes a different form of doubt and loathing. Immobilized by fear, the driver acquiesses to the silence. Waiting for a repose from the silicon idol that you would pay homage, only to break the refrain of nothingness, if you only knew your penance.
You develop emnity with the equalizer. Cull it from existence and my imperfect world returns.
"What's this"..a call just came in. Its going to the airport! Someone up there likes me!
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