I had my moment of LSD-fuelled revelation the same as everyone else. For sure I did, for sure I did. You bet I did and I’m here to tell you all about it. It’s all to do with the nature of reality you see. Always to do with the nature of reality. Although you may not think it to look at me. No sir you probably won’t. It’s the filth and degradation of everyday life that does it, you see. The filth and degradation of everyday life will do that. Is there anything worse, I hear you ask? Is there anything worse. If there is then Satan probably kept it to himself, you say, though why he would want to do that is beyond me! Surely he would be more inclined to spread it around?

There exists this thing called The Lying Machine and its job to lie all the time, without ever stopping. Once you understand this then you’ll understand everything. Only that’s a bit of a lie in itself, really. It’s not entirely truthful. Everyone loves the Lying Machine however and that bit actually is true. It excites people. Give us some more of those tasty lies because they taste so good, we say. The Lying Machine is the only thing that really matters in life – it provides us with the very air we breathe. It is of the utmost importance that the Lying Machine keeps on lying, we say to each other. Supremely important. We know what side our bread is buttered on, after all. We always know that. Tell us some more of your wonderful lies, we say to our parents. Tell us the more of your wonderful filthy lies, we say to the school teachers, the government officials, and everyone else.

Every gobshyte in town wants to talk about reality, have you noticed that? Every gobshyte in town wants to tell you about it, despite the fact that there isn’t one of them that actually has the faintest interest. You know very well they don’t; you know well that they don’t – you only have to look at them! Those lads have no more interest in reality than they do in the man in the moon! This is Humanity’s Curse of course, the Age-Old Curse that none of us can escape. The only thing we really care about. is talking shite. We are possessed by the intense and overwhelming need to talk shite and who can deny this? As long as there is breath in our body we will continue to talk shite and it doesn’t seems that there’s anything we can do about it. How about that for a curse?

Every gobshyte in town. Every dirty gobshyte in town. The nature of reality, the nature of reality. The overwhelming compulsion to pretend to know stuff that we don’t – the better we are pretending the higher our social ranking, isn’t that the way? You don’t need me to tell you that of course. You worked it out for yourself a long time ago. That made you feel sad – it always does, as you can imagine. First it made you sad and then – later on – it made you cynical. Isn’t that always the way? We have no more interest in reality than we do in the man in the moon and that’s the sad thing. Fake news, we say, squawking like indignant chickens. Fake news… What’s wrong with the stupid bastards – don’t they realise that it’s all fake news? Don’t we realise that fake news was all we ever knew, all we ever will know?

If the devil had anything worse up his sleeve then he probably kept it to himself. That’s all I have to say on the matter. People come up to you in the street and they say things to you but you’re unable to make sense of their words. You’re in a dream, you’re in an altered state. Tears are running down your cheeks; you’re upset but you don’t know why. You had been born into the Kingdom of Lies and you never knew anything different. You had nothing else to go on. You made your way in the world the best way you could – it wasn’t a very good way but it’s the best you could come up with. You gave it your best shot and there’s no need to feel any shame on that account. It wasn’t your fault.

First we invent the ego, then we blame it for everything! Wasn’t there some philosopher who said that? Some clever philosopher. Blame the ego, blame the ego – that’s the game now isn’t it? That’s the jolly old game. Blame the bloody old ego. It’ll take it quite happily you see; it’s always willing to accept the blame, just as it’s always willing to take the credit. The invented ego will confess to any crime. The compulsion to lie overtakes everything in the end and there’s none of us that can resist it. The awful, awful compulsion to lie – so strong so seductive. The enacting of which is, I’m afraid to say, the only thing we really care about in life…