I had an elaborate posting to put up, but let's cut the sentimental doodoo. I am writing to all those people out there who have lived by someone else's taste and know that they have their own.

I am writing to all those people who feel like they want to take part in reality, but don't get much of a chance because reality only gives them a cramped pigeon hole to work with.

Mainly, I am writing to the people out there who are themselves, not lost or hiding in the shell of another personality, just themselves. As my lady delight puts it: "you know, A PERSON."

I am well on my way to becoming a full grown person, but for the moment, I am just Robusto. And Iam trying to figure out a few things.

For instance, is it me or is the end of the world being taken all too seriously as an option for the future? I mean, its a funny joke to say the world's coming to an end, but what's the point of getting all serious about it? If you are going to do something to keep the world from being miserable to live in, that's great. Just keep the end of the world a joke, as in the following:

A cat, a mouse and a dog walk into a five star restaurant. The maitre di sees them and says " good evening sir and madam, dinner for three? And the dog says, no thanks, the world is about to end.

This is much funnier, in my oppinion, than the alternate version in which the cat kills the mouse, the dog kills the cat, the Maitre Di kills the dog and a person at a nearby table says "I didn't know there would be a buffet tonight!"

Another thing: people are very defensive nowadays, especially white people. It's good to do things that remind people that they can still talk to one another, smile in each other's presence, and even laugh. I would love to see more flat-brimmed cap and jersey (or mock army fatigue) wearing African American males between the ages of 18 and 35 laughing and smiling on the subway, talking to balding white males of the same age bracket who is causing this laughter and smiling, and sharing in it. I would also love to see white businessmen from the ages of 45-65, wearing pinstriped suits, cologne and fancy watches that they are compulsively checking decide at certain points to try to entertain the people around them. They could do this by smiling, starting up conversations, or even a small dance. If one of them carried a jaw harp in his breast pocket, this would not be a problem. Unfortunately, their watches are very needy, apparently. I would love to see more Chinese tourists reaching out to shake the hands of white people on the street. I would love to hear women in transparent sunglasses, with glossy, streaked, straightened hair and cleverly sliced up clothing from the age of 15-45 talking about how when the sun rises over the mountains in Alberta, the Earth seems to open up and their hearts once again awaken to the shivering thrill of morning.

I think that will be the hip thing next year.