I became a human being. ‘Okay, wow, yeah – this is cool!’ I said. I was a human being with arms and legs and stuff. I wave my arms around excitedly – ‘Okay great, I’m a human being!’ I said. I could now have some fun doing all sorts of ‘human-being type stuff’. ‘What is it that human beings do?’ I wondered. What kind of fun stuff do they do get up to?’
The truth was that I didn’t know. I had rushed into it – being human I mean – and now that it had happened I was rather at a loss. I didn’t know what to do next. I decided to do a bit of research before I went any further. I was going to hold back and take my time, so as not to make a complete fool of myself. I was going to do a bit of ethnographic research. Probably a phenomenological stance would be best, I decided, after considering all the options.
I had to find a bunch of human beings to hang out with, as unobtrusively as possible. Without drawing undue attention to myself, I mean. I would study them, whilst apparently blending in, and in that way I would understand a little bit more about what it meant to be a human being. Then the fun would begin, I told myself. And then the fun would begin.
The first bunch of people I met were a bunch of narcissists. They were hanging around aimlessly in a shopping centre, taking selfies, utilizing social media platforms on their mobile phones, posting photos of what a good time they were having, and doing all these kind of ‘narcissist things’. ‘Hi guys,’ I said, walking up to them with a big ingratiating smile plastered all over my face, ‘can I hang out with you dudes a while and learn some cool narcissist stuff from you?’ They didn’t want to talk to me though. They refused to interact. The situation became more and more awkward and so eventually I just had to move on and try my luck elsewhere. I hadn’t managed to engage with the narcissists – there were obviously a few points relating to human communication rituals that I hadn’t quite got the hang of yet.
The second bunch of people I came across were very different from the first – they were the Keepers of the Dream. I know that because they told me – ‘We are the Keepers of the Dream.’ they told me. They wore grey robes down to the floor and spoke in joyless monotones; they warned me in solemn tones about the approaching darkness. Their job was to prevent the sleepers from awakening. If the sleepers were to awaken then the darkness would do more than just approach – the darkness would come to stay!
Outside on the street the dancers were dancing. There was no music; the dancers had their own music that only they could hear. They were dancing the dream; their job was to dance the dream. Everyone knew that the darkness was approaching but no one liked to talk about it. The thought of the impending darkness was bad enough, never mind talking openly about it. It is best to pretend; it was best to keep on pretending. Some things are best left unsaid and the impending darkness is definitely one of those things! The Impending Darkness is especially one of those things.
I had become a human being. I had arms and legs. I had all the bits and pieces human beings have. I had to work out what humans did, how they behaved, I had to master the human game – I had to master the game and play it for at all I was worth. I had to make it convincing, I had to make it real. I would study the ways of humans. I would learn their ways. I would take the phenomenological approach. Always the phenomenological approach, I told myself as I walked out onto the street. Empiricism was dead, every damn fool knew that! You’d have to be a total moron to believe otherwise. Always, always, always, always the phenomenological approach, I said to myself wisely, nodding my head in solemn approval of my own wise words. Nodding my new-found human head.