I am a moral vulture.

You know when you go to Flickr's login page and there's a photo with some sort of witty caption waiting for you? The most recent one is of a king vulture; the quote is "The critic roams through culture, searching for prey" by Mason Cooley. Well, since I started this whole Sticky Issues side project, that quote (and that photo) has weighed on me. The red-rimmed eye that speaks of utterly calculating humorlessness; the bald, leathery head that allows it to feast on entrails more cleanly... is this what I am becoming by drawing simple little stick figures? A carrion eater, waiting for the weak to expire before I dine on their stiffening, pungent corpses? I don't know.

And then I realize that, even if I am becoming a critic, I don't have to roam anywhere in seach of prey. The newspaper guy delivers it, neatly packaged by a red rubber band, straight to my front door every morning.And if I am a vulture, I am one with particularly narrow tastes. One that, for the most part, dines on the corpses of those jackals that have taken down the slow, the weak, the defenseless and the unwary before themselves giving up the ghost. If I am a vulture, I am a vulture with morals, a schadenfreuden with a sense of justice. Mostly.

Of course, sometimes I'm just an asshat. WOOT!