The Boy with the Blue Mohawk
A jar of pickled ears. A delicacy in some parts of the world, mostly in war zones. Pain is just a feeling. It’s what we think about it that makes us suffer. Witness a boy with a blue Mohawk and 200 piercings, seven through his genitals. The blank look in his eyes. A way to rise above childhood.
Noel, noel, Christ was born on Christmas Day, and he dared to differ.
The boy with the Mohawk differs in a different way, but he suffers the same. His father came back from an exotic war with a jar of pickled ears, and the two of them got drunk one night and ate each and every one in a vain attempt at bonding. It didn’t work, and then came the piercings.
We draw and quarter our children and they retaliate with mutilation.
