Power is living in a mansion for 30 years and never really knowing where the kitchen is.

Power is walking around with your fly open, and everybody thinking you're a fashion trend-setter.

Power is the most sought after, addictive, seductive, abused drug there is. Compared to Power, crack is Fruitopia.

You know, I don't want to get off on a rant here:

But I'll wager that human beings fantasize about power than they do any- thing else.

Wealth, fame, making the winning play for their favorite team, leg- wrestling Rue Mclannahan while her strong support stocking calves pressing firmly against my......i'm sorry...where were we?

Oh right. Power.

Ok. Let's talk about Power. How to get it, what to do with it, when to use it, and most importantly where to store it and at what temperature. because make no mistake my friends, Power is a perishable good.

Now I may currently appear to have power, but, if you really think about it, I'm a mindless fuckchimp for HBO. At any moment they could back up a costume van, pull out the pillsbury dough boy suit and order me to get into it. And then what?

Well...nothing says good lovin' like something from the oven!

heeeeheeee....that's what!

At the end of the day I've got all the power of that highway construction worker who can't be trusted with any moving-part machinery because he took a crane hook to the temple in 1989, and they changed his name to Slappy and now he has to stand there all day with a reversible sign that says stop & go, until the weekend where his friends invite him to parties and make him dance by shooting pelletguns at his feet.

Little autobiographical note there....so.....

So while I obviously don't have power who does? Well, let's define the different degrations of power.
First, there's real power. The tornado ripping up 100 year old oak tree and picking it's teeth with it.
Then there's real human power. High grade political power. At the top of this heap it's a pure uncut china Whitehouse jolt right into the arm that has it's finger on the button.

Do you think Bill Clinton doesn't like the power of being President? Do you think he doesn't sit there in the oval office for hours saying to himself: "This is the finger that could blow up the world, and it's the same finger I use to scratch my ass?"

Next, you have midrange corporate power. That flawless cynergistic weaving of money and clout that allows a select few to meet in smoke filled back rooms and literally change the course of human history while the rest of us are waiting in line for a kid to ask: "Do you want fries with that"?

And Finally there's pretend power. The supposed ability of a person to lead a flock of sheep to new heights where there unfortunately usually they find a shearing pen.

Who has this power? Jimmy Swagart, Amway, Dionne Warwick, Barney, Rush.

How'd they get it? Well you gave it to them for christ's sake! Stop doing that. Go to Starbuck's, get a quadra'late' and wake the fuck up!

So those are the different kinds of power. The only other thing you need to know is that we all crave power. Whether it's heading a major entertain- ment comapny, or just spraying that cockroach in your kitchen with a steady stream of raid and pretending you're Red Adaire on a blazing oil platform in the middle of the Caspian Sea.

Face it, we all get off on power. Even if we only have a little of it. Do you think that clerk at the DMV doesn't enjoy looking at that serpentine line and thinking I gotta be here 8 hours...Fuck You...you're here for 8 hours!

Power is the nutritional source that feeds the ego and of course we all know that the ego is the ugly little troll that lives under the bridge between your mind and you heart. You keep a stranglehold on that fact.

I don't the that the desire for power is neccessarily a bad thing. I'd say it's encoded into our DNA for a damned good reason.

After all, in the prehistoric days, when we humans dwelled in caves, and the neighbor's pet raptor got off it's leash and shit on your yard and ate your cave-son, you sure as hell needed a big stick. You couldn't go running to Johnny Rochran or whatever they called the neighborhood ultra- smooth bullshit artist back then.

So, to all you out there who are constantly whining about how to get power, you can start by not giving away any of yours. Don't send 20 bucks to some porcelain eye liner junkie who claims she can get you into heaven. That chick can't even get you into Cosco. There's only on guy who can get you into heaven and that's god, or Buddha, or Eisner, or whatever the hell he's called himself these days.

Of course, that's just my opinion. I could be wrong.
--DM