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C L Bledsoe |
Only Tell Me Which Is Which |
Goodbye to Noise |
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I am Woodrow Wilson in Indiana. I am Margaret Sanger before Ernst Rudin. Consider Sir Francis Galton’s hairy knuckles exposed while reading his cousin’s book. Consider Alexander Graham Bell’s high stepping cattle as shown to the American Breeders' Association. I’m talking about regression towards the mean. I'm talking about the rising ape. The men of Tuskegee are only numbers. There are no choices, only a general downward slide. We need a loan from the genius bank. We must sever the posterior from posterity. We must breed men like carthorses. Catch the falling angel and steal its wings. We’ve got to get the feeble-minded off the tax payers’ backs. We hold each other back.
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