Crazy

Two strangers sat down on a beach in southern France. Said one to the other, “Do you live here?” “No,” said the other, “I just got here this morning.” “Me, too. Where are you going? “First, I’m going to that little town up on the hill. I’ll tell them I’m a refugee and they’ll give me some food. Then I’m going to Paris, get some more food, then hop a ship to America.” “Why are you going to America?” “Well, once I get there, they will give me food, clothing, a place to sleep, medical care if I need any, and money to go look for a job.”

“Wow. They give you all that? Why?”

“They believe in giving.”

“But don’t you have to give it back?”

“Oh no. And if you don’t get a job they keep on giving you their things.”

“Wow. That’s crazy, man.”

“I know. Someone told me Americans are the craziest people in the world.”

“What do they get out of it?”

“Hell, they don’t get anything. I guess they just tell themselves how good they are to be giving, and everybody’s happy.”

“Are they really happy?”

“Happy as a crazy fool can be, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t be happy.”

“No. Neither would I.”

“Where’d they get this crazy idea of giving, anyway?”

“Oh, some Jewish guy said something about giving away your possessions a couple thousand years ago. That’s probably why everyone hates the Jews—they follow his bad teachings, but deep down really hate him and all his clan.”

“Why don’t they just stop following his teachings?”

“They don’t have the guts to say one word.”

“What is that?”

“No.”

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s