Nothing Uglier Than The Group Mind

There is nothing as ugly as the Group Mind, is there? There’s nothing uglier nor more sordid than the jolly old Group Mind, as anyone could tell you, and yet we all love it so much!

 

 

Well, it’s not so much the case that we love it so much as we actually are it, of course. I stand corrected on that score – I stand very much corrected. We ARE the jolly old group mind and love has nothing to do with it! ‘What will I be when I grow up?’ we all ask ourselves when we are as yet young and innocent, unsullied by the loathsome ways of the world. The answer comes to us like a thunderbolt from hell – ‘I know,’ we say, ‘I’ll be the Group Mind!’

 

 

People generally see me coming a long way off. They see me coming a long way off on account of the garish clown suit that I insist on wearing. The lurid orange hair, the leering mouth, the ridiculous oversize shoes. Shoes the size of canoes. It’s a pretty frightening sight when it comes down to it, pretty frightening and pretty grotesque too…

 

 

That’s just one side of my personality, of course. That’s the side which  I offer up for public consumption. My public self. Behind the garish exterior that hides a rather ordinary guy however, doing his best to look like something he isn’t, doing his best to make a name for himself. Life can be harsh at times, as we all know, but we have to make the best of it all the same. We have to make the best of a bad thing.

 

 

The Group Mind does make certain demands upon us all the same and I think it’s as well to acknowledge that. We have to look the beast in the eye and see it for what it truly is. See it for the ghastly hideous monstrosity that it really is – the graveyard of human dignity and goodness. I think it is incumbent on us to do that. Not that we ever do of course, not that we ever do…

 

 

‘How many species of humans are there?’ you want to know. ‘How many species?’ And then the next thing to consider is the matter of how we have disgraced our sacred ancestors. The shame we have brought upon ourselves. We distract ourselves as best we can but it’s all frighteningly superficial – in the deep-down core of our being we are perpetually squirming with the awful shame of it.

 

 

We can never stop squirming – squirming, squirming, squirming. We are a bunch of squirmers when it comes down to it. That’s how we pay tribute to the greatness of our ancestors. That’s the only way we are able to pay tribute. That’s the honest part of us, that’s the decent part of us. We wallow in filth and act as if we don’t care, but we do really. The demons in us sport and gamble, soiling themselves in their unholy delight, but deep down we’re all cringing in shame – how could we not be? How could we not be?

 

 

The demons inside us, the demons inside us – how they love to sport and gamble! And dress up in ridiculous finery! How they love to strut and pose and to pretend to be something that they’re not. How they love to camouflage themselves. They have to camouflage themselves of course – the one thing a demon can NEVER afford to do is see itself as it truly is. Every demon there ever was takes it as its absolute right to believe its own barefaced lies, whatever they might be. Regardless of that they might be. That’s just the way of things. Demons will get so angry if challenged on this. You can’t challenge them on this!

 

 

That’s the bloody old demons for you – constitutionally unable to stand any exposure to the truth! Anything but the truth, anything but the truth. Playing whatever game it is that they are wont to play, always pretending that they are what they aren’t, always camouflaging their demon-type activities. Two things demons can’t take, the truth, and any sort of pain or difficulty. That’s why demons always lie, that’s why demons always want to pass on their pain. Why they need to pass on their pain – in whichever underhand way they can. That’s the secret psychology of demons. It’s all there in the Handbook of Demon Psychology. You should read it some time!

 

 

There is nothing more ugly – nor more squalid illness – than a filthy old demon, as I’m sure we’ll all agree. Who won’t agree on that point? Who won’t concur? What self-respecting students of Pure and Applied Demonology is going to raise an eyebrow at that? It’s a well-known fact after all. It’s a very well known fact. There is nothing in the world uglier nor more appallingly squalid than a jolly old demon, and yet we love them so very much! We’re in bed with them. That’s a funny thing isn’t it. Definitely a funny old thing…

 

 

 

 

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