Due to the success of my previous instructions to pedestrians, today I present the second in a series of advice for Los Angeles area residents, titled:
The Barbarian Warlord's Speech To Drivers
Gorzak sees a man who parks his massive SUV diagonally in two parking spaces, because he wishes to park close to his restaurant and the spaces are small there. Gorzak sees that the man has a shiny truck which he wants to keep shiny, and that this man cares not for his fellow driver. Gorzak remembers when he was a child, that a fat boy like a milkfed pig once grabbed two wheatcakes from the fire because he was fat, and his desire for food was great. Gorzak's father thrust the fat boy's face into the fire, crying out "The tribe shelters no greedy thing!", and to this day he runs with the goats, for no man will look upon his disfigured face. Park normally, goat-boy.
O man who drives along the shoulder or in the merging lane on the right to pass, what thought passes in your head? All of us labor on the same road, and often the horizon seems distant, the road long, and the dust chokes us. But what good is it to run along the right side, like a foolish puppy, when in a matter of a moth's wing-flap the road vanishes, and you must merge? Then every man's face is turned from you, and the tribe thrusts a spear in your face, and the dust and corruption of the unpaved shoulder is yours. Hear and heed Gorzak's word: the road belongs to all men, and all men wait in their turn to move forward.
O Man out on a Friday night date, the world is yours to enjoy! Take your woman to enjoy a fine meal, or some entertainment, and show her your wealth. Perhaps then she shall be yours. But do not use your car as some club to beat us with. No woman cleaves to a man because he pushes others to one side with a machine, or races madly through the intersection against a waning light. These things bring fear and anger to her heart, and she will never soften for you. And what would you say should a stronger tribesman grow wrathful and cast you from your chariot for your foolishness? Who will then gain your fair lady's hand? Rather, you should carry her lightly and swiftly to your destination, waving along every other man, so that she sees nobility and grace in your visage, and not the twisted snarl of an ass-clown.
O lady of great castles, aloft the top of your full-sized SUV, why do you dally and speak on the telephone so? Others have great burdens to carry over mountain and desert, or terrible charges laid upon them to be on their way with swiftness. Whole tribes wait for their food, and messengers fleet of foot seek to bring tidings throughout the land. But you tarry and giggle and weave about in your vast chariot as you talk about useless things with your chambermaid. Such was the fall of the Castle of Aaargh, when Lady Aaargh did fritter away her time on her telephone and backed her Excursion into an attorney. Heed her fate, for no lady of Sherman Oaks should end her life in the stocks for dithering with many tons of steel.
Gorzak has spoken.