Trapped Spirits

I was in a whole different universe. It was called The Universe of Eternal Bullshit. Only it wasn’t. Not really. That was only what I called it. Other people might call it something different of course. I also – on occasion – call it the ‘Noodle House’, when I am in the humour for that type of talk. It’s a totally different universe but it’s also the only universe I know – or ever can know, probably. It’s the universe of my own stupid thoughts.


What a bloody awful universe, I say to myself, what a bloody awful shitty old hole of a universe. And the worst thing is that I made it myself, I reflected bitterly. What a colossal screw-up. Did you ever hear the like of it? Did you ever hear the like? If I could blame someone else for it then I would. If I could blame someone else for it then it wouldn’t be so bad.


All around us we see trapped spirits, we see trapped souls. Tell me it isn’t so! Go on, I dare you – tell me it isn’t so! I know you can’t…  ‘Quick – tell me what the vilest, most sordid form of existence is?’ I demand of you. ‘Quick, quick – tell me.’ ‘It’s the type of existence which you yourself gladly embrace every day.’ You tell me dutifully, just as you always do when I ask you this question. You always come out with the right answer and I appreciate this about you, painful though it is for me to hear it. It’s important that I hear it, all the same. It’s important that I hear it and take it on the chin, without complaint or quibble.


We human beings are dreadful quibblers aren’t we? Such dreadful quibblers. Truly dreadful. ‘Yes but, yes but…’ we keep saying. We’re full of lies and self-deceptions of course and that’s the reason. We go around under a heavy fog of lies and self-deceptions, never able to see out of it. The fog clings to us relentlessly, even on the sunniest day. Cold and clammy the fog is, and most injurious to one’s physical health. It acts as an incubator for evil at the same time of course – it’s the perfect incubator. Lies and self-deceptions always act so as to incubate evil. ‘What great evil will emerge today?’ we ask, agog with curiosity. What great evil, what great evil. The suspense is killing.


Some people say it’s not a good thing to breed monstrosities but never mind them – they’re only hypocrites. People who say that are even worst liars than the rest of us and God knows we are bad enough. We’re plenty bad but we can’t really help it. We don’t know what we’re doing, you see. We’re enacting the will of the Great Malignancy every day of our lives but we don’t know it. We’re innocent in a way because we haven’t the faintest idea as to what we doing, we really don’t. We’re still going to be punished however – and punished very harshly too – but that’s just the way things are. Things just are the way they are and what can any of us do about it?


The vilest and most sordid form of existence is – needless to say – that form of existence in which everything we say and think and do repulses us beyond measure, and yet we carry on with it regardless. We manage to turn a blind eye to the horror of it all and tell ourselves – in the most sanctimonious tones – that we are great and worthy human beings and that we have a place in heaven waiting for us. Can you believe that? Can you imagine anything more appallingly sordid into that? I’m willing to bet that you can’t. I’m willing to bet that you can’t but if you can then I’d be very interested in hearing from you on that subject. I’d be very interested indeed…





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