hold out for坚持等待更好的

Why shouldn't I work for the N.S.A.? That's a tough one, but I'll take a shot. Say I'm workin' at the N.S.A. And somebody puts a code on my desk. Somethin' no one else can break. Maybe I take a shot at it, and maybe I break it. And I'm real happy with myself 'cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East. And once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels are hidin'. Fifteen hundred people that I never met, never had no problem with, get killed. Now the politicians are sayin', "Oh, send in the marines to secure the area. " 'Cause they don't give a shit. It won't be their kid over there gettin' shot. Just like it wasn't them when their number got called... 'cause they were all pullin' a tour in the National Guard. It'll be some kid from Southie over there takin' shrapnel in the ass. He comes back to find that the plant he used to work at... got exported to the country he just got back from... and the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job... Meanwhile, he realizes the only reason he was over there in the first place... was so that we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price. And, of course, the oil companies used a little skirmish over there to scare up domestic oil prices. A cute little ancillary benefit for them... They're takin' their sweet time bringin' the oil back, of course. Maybe they even took the liberty of hirin' an alcoholic skipper... who likes to drink martinis and fuckin' play slalom with the icebergs. It ain't too long till he hits one, spills the oil... and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic. So now by buddy's out of work. He can't afford to drive... so he's walkin' to the fuckin' job interviews, which sucks... because the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic haemorrhoids. And meanwhile, he's starvin' 'cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat... the only blue plate special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State. So what did I think? I'm holdin' out for something better. I figure, fuck it. While I'm at it, why not just shoot my buddy... take his job, give it to his sworn enemy... hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal... hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I can be elected president.

我为什么不该为国家安全局工作？ 这问题不好答，但我试试看。 假设我在国安局上班。有人把一段密码放我桌上。 一段没人破得了的密码。 也许我试着破它，也许我破了。 我特别得意，因为活儿干得漂亮。 可也许那段密码是北非或中东某支叛军的位置。 他们一拿到位置，就轰炸叛军藏身的村庄。 一千五百个我素不相识、无冤无仇的人，就这么死了。 然后政客们说：「派海军陆战队去控制那片地区。」因为他们根本不在乎。去挨枪子的又不是他们自己的孩子。 就像当年征兵抽到他们时，去的也不是他们…… 因为他们都在国民警卫队里挂个名混日子。 去那儿屁股挨弹片的，会是某个南波士顿的孩子。 他回来后发现，他以前上班的那家工厂…… 被搬到了他刚回来的那个国家…… 而那个把弹片打进他屁股的人，顶了他的旧岗位…… 同时他明白了，当初他被派到那儿，唯一的原因…… 就是为了让我们能扶植一个愿意低价卖石油给我们的政府。 当然，石油公司借那边的一场小冲突，把国内的油价吓着往上涨。 对他们来说，这是个可爱的小小附带收益…… 当然，他们慢悠悠地才把石油运回来。 也许他们还自作主张雇了个酗酒的船长…… 那人爱喝马提尼，还他妈的跟冰山玩起回转滑雪。 没过多久他就撞上一座，把石油漏了出来…… 害死了北大西洋所有的海洋生物。 这下我那哥们儿失业了。他连车都开不起…… 只能他妈的走着去面试，惨得很…… 因为屁股里的弹片让他得了慢性痔疮。 而且他还饿着肚子，因为每次他想找点东西吃…… 菜单上唯一的特价套餐，就是泡了机油味的北大西洋鳕鱼。 那我是怎么想的？ 我在等一份更好的工作。 我想，管他呢。既然都这样了，何不干脆崩了我那哥们儿…… 抢了他的工作，送给他的死对头…… 抬高油价，轰炸村庄，用棍子打死小海豹…… 再抽口大麻，加入国民警卫队？ 这样我就能当选总统了。