'Twas not so long ago you see (perhaps a year, or two or three)
I first learned of this thing: "anthropology"
it will get you nowhere! "adults" forewarned
I sighed a sigh, drawn out and forlorn
I'm already nowhere! I exclaimed, a cynic
(I'll tell you that much hasn't changed a bit)
Prof. Vivanco taught my first anthropology class
where I learned not to use the pass-
ive voice. It's evil! like Ruiz Ortiz
el mapache de Oaxaca, just ask Luis.
Que pasa? Que paso?
Que rapido pasa el tiempo.
And now I transition to another stage
I read the book, but not the page
that says you have to know what to do
to be financially independent at 22.
I digress! The point is this
it doesn't matter if all is amiss
and I don't know what to do at all,
because, I can just recall
what I learned in media anthropology
that on the internet I can be whoever I want to be!
I should have been an astronaut! A lesbian too!
Well by god, they've got a MOO for you!
I think I'll be a sailor! Or a UPS delivery man!
I'll play every part the best that I can
Until my identity breaks like a fragile vase
and the fragments of myself are all over the place
It's alright though, I'll glue them back together
but Elmer's doesn't last forever.
Plus I lost a piece in the corner over there,
and stuck in the cracks are nasty pieces of hair...
I guess it's probably a better idea to maintain a "real" identity,
and be part of a physical community,
where people use their voices, that handy evolutionary device
that could become obsolete like ice (when global warming strikes
which is a myth, by the way,
like erosion and terrorism and monogo-may)
Whatever. I'm done. It's over like Kevin and Britney.
But I will always love you, media of anthro, in the words of Whitney.