‘What is it like to be the Ever-Suffering Homunculoid’, you want to know. You really want to know. ‘It must be pretty bad, right?’ you persist, ‘you know – it must be bad to be the Ever-Suffering One, and all of that…’ And you’re quite right, of course – it certainly is pretty bad. It’s pretty bad indeed and I ought to know. It’s not exactly what you might call a barrel of laughs being the Ever-Suffering Uncle Lloyd, I can tell you. But then again of course, it wouldn’t be, would it?
‘What’s it like, what’s it like?’ I ask myself absent-mindedly as I go about my daily business. What can we say about the plight of the suffering Homunculoid? That’s what folk want to know about, of course – that’s what they’re all so damn curious about. ‘That must be pretty bad shit’, they say, hoping to wheedle out some more info out of me. I’m saying nothing, however. I’m keeping schtum. My lips are well and truly sealed – the fact of the matter (as all adepts know) is that information like this shouldn’t be passed on to ordinary folk. They wouldn’t be able to handle it, you see. There’s very little they can handle, if we were to be honest about it. They can’t handle anything that’s actually real.
Everyday normal folk are a bit of a bloody write-off really, aren’t they? They’re only able to tolerate their own malignant bullshit, when it comes down to it, and often enough even that proves too much for them. But that’s everyday normal folks for you though, isn’t it? That’s wing here they’re at – they create a reality for themselves out of their own toxic bullshit and then they steadfastly refused to have anything to do with anything else. And to cap it all, they spend all their time moaning about insignificant problems that have nothing to do with anything. We’ve all been there however so I suppose we shouldn’t be too judgmental about them, should we?
They are playing the game, you see. They are always playing the game. You can see it in their eyes. You can see the nauseating smugness of it. Smug, smug, smug – so very smug. They are invulnerable in their smugness. It would annoy me if I didn’t happen to know that they’re all doomed. If I didn’t happen to know that their doom is to meet the very thing they fear the most and that – therefore – their whole lives are lived in denial of this immutable unavoidable fact. Everyday normal folk are doomed from the very onset to be annihilated by the very thing they hate and fear the most, and yet notwithstanding this they contrive to be petty-minded, mean-spirited, and smugly superior in their attitude! Astonishing, isn’t it? What an appalling spectacle it makes – what a hideous and truly grotesque spectacle. But we’ve all been there though, we’ve all been on that particular trip at some time or other and that ought to introduce a note of compassion. They simply don’t know any better, you see. And isn’t that exactly what Jesus said? Didn’t Jesus say that they deserve forgiveness because they didn’t know what they were doing?
