On The Evil of Small Things.

There are a lot of things that I hate in this world, but nothing is more annoying and more ubiquitous than #2 pencil. The damn f..ers are everywhere. You can kill your TV, you can make your house NYT free, you can buy only vegetarian, but how come, no matter where I am, and no matter how urgent it is to underscore something, there is always the most annoying, scratching, paper tearing, practically invisible and thin as Adam Schiff's neck pencil #2.

I spend my good money; buy softer pencils, the pencils that you can use for marking, the pencils that leave an elegant line, the pencils that almost sing when they touch the page. But they always disappear. I buy them, I place them everywhere, yet they disappear. Leaving ugly, nasty, vicious #2 in their stead.

I do try to look around including peaking under bed, or asking friends for a pencil, or groping into all the sections of my bag. And sure enough, there is always #2 staring at you mockingly: go on, try... you will come to daddy, eventually, anyways.

My books hate #2, I hate #2, nobody I know likes the suckers, yet, they are going strong as always. And there is no anti #2 vaccine in site.

Even more terrifying is to know that behind them was the guy, named Henry David Thoreau. The one who preached Civil Disobedience! I bet you, he did not write it with #2. The only thing these stupid pencils are good for -- is to stick it into someone's butt. They are hard enough to go through any fabric or flash. What a satanic invention!