I helped a liberal, whose basement was flooding.

He and I argued the whole time.
He is good at sculptures of the female form, but not at working on cars.
I kept telling him that he is in charge of painting mountain streams and I am in charge of designing drainage ditches.
He kept calling me a slope NAZI.
I told him that slope was important to me.
It sounded like another right wind conspiracy to make him dig deeper.
The basement never flooded again.
He is probably down in his basement, casting forms of girls with bare breasts right now. He thinks cause and effect goes from his whimsical emotions, out his eyes, and into the block of material that contains the future sculpture.

Meanwhile, I am a slave to reality.