The Bloody Old Amoeba is on the ascendant again, so it would seem. The bloody old amoeba is always on the ascendant, wouldn’t you say? When wasn’t it? The BOA Is the undefeated world champion, you see. Damn right it is – it has never been beaten… It’s the champ for sure…
Its victory was complete a very long, long time ago, you see. Its victory was total, its victory was irreversible, its victory was complete in every respect. None now are there who are true – all serve the worm, whether we care to admit it or not! And generally we don’t care to admit to it. We don’t care to admit to anything of the sort, naturally enough. Who would want to admit to that?
Our great discovery (our great breakthrough, you might say) are the devices that allow us to make our lies become true. This is the Great Promise of Technology, would you not agree? Can you honestly say that this is not the case? Once we had achieved this then there was no looking back – there’s no way back from this you see. There’s never any way back. No true way at any rate, no way that isn’t a lie…
This is what the Amoeba gifted to us, do you understand? This is its gift to us, its legacy. That anything can be true as soon as we want it to be. All we have to do is declare a lie to be true and it is! Just like that… This is the world we live in you see – an ersatz world where anything we want can be true, but where nothing actually is. Especially not us. Least of all us. For sure not us.
The eyes in my head have seen many things – too many to tell of, in fact. Far too many. The eyes that are not in my head have seen even more things, but of those things I may not speak. Of these things I may not ever speak. Unless I choose to, of course. Unless I choose to.
I remember things that I have seen in the dim and distant past, when time itself was still young, and consequently still somewhat unsure of itself. Would it go this way, or that? Should it continue as planned or should it turn round and go back? Should it never have started in the first place? Some say that this was the First Mistake, the Original Mistake, the mistake from which all other (lesser) mistakes follow…
In my mind’s eye I can recall the sight of a mighty army that stretched out from horizon to horizon like a limitless swarm of ants. There was no end to this swarm – there was no beginning and no end – and above them flew the banners and pennants of The Maggot. Fluttering proudly in the wind. Those pennants spelt our doom and everyone who beheld them knew it. The was the Battle at the Beginning of Time, the battle that would decide things one way or the other.
Men gazed upon those banners and their hearts quailed within them. The blood ran ice-cold in their veins. They gazed upon the Emblem of the Maggot, rampant on the field of blood red, its pallid, defenceless body belying the invincibility of the Awful Force it represented. Soft is the maggot, soft and squidgy and easy to crush, and yet no one can overcome it. No weapon can harm it. It seems to us weak and yet its victory was always assured, its victory was assured right from the very beginning. None may conquer the Worm, after all…
