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My Mind Was Sitting In The Corner

My mind was sitting in the corner, knitting. It was knitting a giant shapeless sweater with which to cover the whole world. All you could hear was the endless ‘clack, clack, clack’ of the knitting needles. The racket of it was unbearable and I was feeling very irritated. ‘Fuck you, mind,’ I said after a while, ‘can’t you ever stop knitting?’

 

We don’t get on, you see – me and my mind. We don’t see eye to eye at all. Usually, we just sit there sullenly at opposite ends of the table glowering at each other, seething away inside, emitting bad vibes the like of which you can’t possibly imagine. The atmosphere in the room would be foul beyond belief, if the truth were to be known. Toxic isn’t the word for it, toxic is a wholly inadequate term for what used to go on between me and my mind back in those days. In short, there was some serious bad shit going down and there’s no point in me sitting here trying to deny it to you.

 

‘Perhaps the two of you should have gone to see a therapist,’ you interject archly, trying your best to be tactful. ‘That would have been the responsible thing to do.’ It’s obvious to me however that you’re assuming it’s all my fault, which everyone always does. They take one look at me and assume that it’s all my fault. I’m the innocent one in this story though – I was totally innocent of any wrong-doing and all you’re doing is victim-blaming. ‘Well, you must have done something wrong’, you say glibly, ‘or else why would all of this happen to you. It doesn’t happen to normal people, after all…’ Stuff like that never happens to normal people so if it happens to you then you know for sure that you’re a freak! How can you possibly deny it? When bad stuff happens then it must be your fault so you should just suck it up

 

The thing that happened to you in the first place is quite bad enough anyway of course but then you realize that none of that shit would have happened to you if you hadn’t been a freak and that awareness is the icing on the cake, so to speak. That takes it to the next level, as you might imagine. You start to turn in on yourself when that happens – ‘your pain is your shame’, sort of thing. The lessons are there for all to learn – “It’s wrong to be wrong, so we’re told. It’s always wrong to be wrong so just don’t do it. Just don’t do the wrong thing – how hard is that to understand? It’s not rocket-science, is it? It’s right to be right and it’s wrong to be wrong and there’s nothing else we can say about it. It’s a mistake to make a mistake so just bloody don’t.

 

It had seemed like a good idea at the time and yet I had known all along that it had been a mistake. I just couldn’t accept this however and so I pretended to myself that my life was normal. I pretended every day, year after year. ‘My life is normal,’ I said to myself. It just wasn’t true however – I had made a mistake and no one wanted to know me after that. No one wanted to know me before that either, come to think of it. They knew that things weren’t right – they could tell things weren’t right just to look at me. The trapped look in my eyes, the strange sibilant hissing I made instead of talking, the way I’d suddenly start panting for no reason. I should have known better, of course. I did know better, but I was – all the same – quite powerless to avoid my fate. I carried on anyway. I carried on regardless. That’s the way it always is with fate though, isn’t it? There are two sorts of people in this world, we could say. There are those who are powerless to avoid their fate and know it, and there are those who are powerless to avoid their fate and like to pretend otherwise…

 

 

 

 

 

Image credit – peakpx.com

 

 

 

 

The Wheels of Justice

‘Should I continue to go along with it?’ I ask myself, ‘should I continue to pretend that it is all real, that I am real, and all of the rest of it, or should I just stop pretending?’ Suppose that it were possible somehow to get time out from your life, so that you could go off and make a fresh start and do something less tedious this time, something that doesn’t take quite so much grinding effort – would you avail of this unexpected opportunity (and certainly it is unexpected, for how would it not be?) or would you stick with the rigmarole of your habitual existence and ignore the moment of freedom that has just dawned? We pretend that our daily rigmarole is real, do we not? We tell ourselves that it is both real and very important. We’d get upset if someone said that it wasn’t. ‘If you don’t tell then neither will I…’ I say quickly, seizing the chance to avoid being crushed by the wheels of justice as they grind inexorably on. The least said the soonest mended – or so I was always told at any rate – and the thing is that I’ve said far too much already. I’ve said it all and there’s nothing left to say. It’s no good me trying to take it back you see; it’s no good me trying to take it back because it’s already out there. As large as life. Everything’s already been done and so there’s nothing left to do apart from taking a seat on the sidelines and watching. That’s the defining moment of my life, you might say – the moment where I get to watch everyone else have a great time. Or not, as the case may be. ‘Why does life have to be like this?’ you ask yourself, ‘why does it have to be like this and not some other way? Some other better way.’ Our lives grind on, do they not? Our lives grind on and on, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, whilst in the depths of our being we can’t help wondering what it’s all in aid of. It’s the Force of Entropy of course, that’s what it really comes down to. We never spot it until after the event, as it were. We never spot it until it’s far too late. It creeps up on us over the years, it creeps up on us with the greatest of stealth and then – when there’s exactly zero chance of us being able to do anything about it, it wallops us. It lands on us, it crushes the life out of us. The crushing force of precedence. I did it once and so now I’m going to do it again. I did it ten thousand times and so there’s nothing for it but do it again. I’ve started and so there’s nothing for it but to carry on. I have to see it through to the end. Only it never does end, does it? Be honest now. Just this once. It never finishes (which would at least be something) but rather it drags on interminably. It doesn’t have the decency to end itself, as I believe Sartre was at pains to point out.  It just degrades. It winds down bit by bit, getting slower and slower all the time, but it never stops. Will we ever get there, we wonder? Will we ever get to where we’re going. Only of course we weren’t actually going anywhere. We were never going anywhere. The bus has run out of petrol and so we (the disgruntled passengers) have to complete their journey on foot. We’re disembarking from the stranded vehicle and we’re milling around aimlessly, unable to orientate ourselves, unable to keep up the pretence anymore, the pretence that we know what we’re doing, the pretence that it actually makes sense to us.

 

 

 

 

 

Image credit – wallpaperflare.com

 

 

 

 

Common-or-Garden Gobshite

‘What are your favourite metals?’ people sometimes ask me.’ What are your most favourite of ALL metals’.  ‘Well,’ I generally reply, ‘my favourites are molybdenum, zirconium, hafnium and cobalt’. They are my special favourites but I do have others. I was reading about the six habits of spiritually successful people. ‘This is important stuff to know’, I tell myself earnestly. ‘I might learn something useful here.’ There’s a lot to learn in life but we’re not always able to learn it and that’s the problem. That’s the problem right there. How to know if you’re a very rare type of empath, for example? I don’t know – the type that’s also got PK abilities, or latent PK abilities, or something like that. How to know, how to know. Or maybe you’re not an empath at all, maybe you just like to imagine that you are, because the actual truth is far too difficult to endure. The truth is always hard to endure, as I’m sure you know. We’ve all had that experience, after all – the experience of not being able to endure the truth. Not even for a short while. Perhaps you’re not a rare type of super-empath at all but just a common or garden gobshite, the type of gobshite you can meet anywhere in the world, as easily as anything. Gobshites aren’t particularly hard to meet, after all. They’re not like unicorns. Statistically, you’re much more likely to be a gobshite than otherwise. That’s a hard truth to stomach, you see; you might think it isn’t but I’m here to tell you otherwise. It’s awfully hard. Seven signs that you might be a complete knobhead – that would be a good one, don’t you think? That would be an amusing article to write. Six signs (that you probably never picked up on before) that show beyond any doubt that you’re a total tosser! Yes, indeed. I started my own YouTube channel to tell people about my successful and innovative lifestyle and how I pulled it off against all the odds. What my strategies were, for example. How I developed my own unique methods. I can share that with the world because that’s something everyone would like to know about. Six signs that you might be a sickening twat, that sort of thing. ‘Oh my God’, you say, ‘I never realized…’ Life’s full of surprises, isn’t it? It’s just full of them. Packed to the brim, in fact. It’s not that we’re particularly fond of surprises however – no one is. Not really. The problem – simply put – is that we never know how they are going to turn out. We never know whether it’s going to be a good surprise or a bad one. Surprise, surprise – you’re a gobshite! How about that? How do you like them apples, huh? What’re you going to do about that? Not that you can do anything of course. Not there is anything to do because there isn’t. There’s no way out of it. Anything a fool does carries the indelible stamp of the fool, after all. Anything a fool does is simply an extension of their foolishness, and that’s just the way of it. It’s tough being a fool, you see. Any decision you make is guaranteed to only make matters worse and yet you’re under serious pressure to act. You’re under serious pressure to come up with an answer. So, this is very frustrating. Very frustrating indeed. The indelible stamp of the fool! I like the sound of that, I must say. It’s got a definite ring to it. It trips off the tongue. I’m in very bad form today, I must say. I’m as cranky as hell – stomping around, muttering under my breath, shouting angrily at anyone who comes near me. Not that anyone ever does come near me, come to think of it. I am here all alone – just me and my restless irritable mind, which feels like a pot of something unpleasant on the stove, never actually boiling over but always on the point of doing so, or so it seems. That’s how it feels anyway. Don’t ask me what’s in the pot, however – don’t ask me that because I don’t know. Something bad, that’s all I can tell you. Something rotten…

 

 

 

Image credit – artstation.com

 

 

 

Fortune Favours The Infinitely Powerful

‘Fortune favours the infinitely powerful’, as I like to say. Fortune always favours the infinitely powerful. When a goal has been staunchly achieved, regardless of the mighty obstructions that have been put in place precisely for that reason, then this demonstrates to everyone concerned that you have special kudos (or QDOS) with regard to which people will often or at least sometimes express their considerable approval. ‘This is great’, they will say, ‘this is most splendid to be sure’. Some will be envious of your outstanding kudos – they will say that you didn’t do it right and that they could have done it better. Or they might say that the devil was helping you, that he was aiding you in your achievements and so on. They might say that you’re some kind of disgusting drug addict or pervert. All sorts of things like this they might say but – really –  they’re just jealous of you because they are so tiresomely ineffective in themselves. They resent you deeply and they want your kudos for themselves. ‘Good things are going to happen’, you hear. Good things are going to happen, and angels will help you. Tidings such as these can raise your spirits, you see. They can stop you looking so glum, as you are rather prone to. Positive thinking can imbue you with that very special type of confidence, that very special type of confidence that means you can never be wrong. You can afford to be in good humour then – why wouldn’t you be? That very special confidence which means that you can’t ever be wrong, not ever. You will always succeed in achieving your goals, you will always succeed in garnering the admiration of the foolish masses. I have to admit however that this is all just ‘so much blah-blah talk’ – the type of vulgar talk you can hear any day you want in any bar in any town anywhere in the country. Cheap talk, third-rate talk, empty foolish talk. I must confess at this point that I don’t really like myself that much, I don’t really have a lot in the way of respect for myself. I know what I’m like, after all. I’m not a particularly nice person you see! I’m not nice at all, but then again – who is? Answer me that if you would. Answer me that. The lessons of history are clear however, the lessons of history are always so very clear. We never learn these lessons of course – that’s kind of like a badge of honour for us. We refuse to let reality grind us down. We are too stubborn for that, you see. We just won’t be told. ‘Fuck you, reality!’ we say. That’s our message of defiance, that’s our message of rage and defiance…

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Image – openart.ai

 

 

 

I Performed a Meaningless Act of Social Conformity

It’s great to have friends to pal around with – or so I hear, anyway. So I am told. Lots of things are great, if you were to listen to what folks say. There’s lots of great things, so we are told. So we are given to understand by the Powers That Be…

 

I performed a meaningless act of social conformity within the Darkened Realm, which is the realm bequeathed to us by our forefathers. There, I said it! I came right out and said it. No one can say I didn’t. No one can say that didn’t contribute. I feel better than ever now and I’m as defiant as hell. ‘There’s no stopping me now!’ I yell out excitedly, cruising on a wave of synthetic endorphins.

 

‘Here we go lads’, I said, ‘Get a load of this – I have just performed a meaningless act of social conformity!’ I was live streaming you see. Everyone claps, everyone applauds. All the people in my head tell me I’m playing a blinder. It’s an exciting time and we’re all thrilled to be part of it. Here we all are in the Shadow Realm, complying with the regulations to the very limit of our abilities. Worshiping Satan, as you do. That’s got to be a good thing, hasn’t it? That’s got to be a mark in our favour. We’re praising the great and wonderful thing and we’re all loving it. If it’s true then it can’t be a lie.

 

We’re living in the End Times, you see. We’re living in the End Times and there’s no denying it – the signs are there for all to see and no one can say otherwise. Or can they? ‘Is God real?’ I you ask yourself dubiously, ‘Is God real or is He an invisible friend that I have made up in my head? Is God an AI? Is He or She a Replica?’ It’s important to ask difficult questions like this, of course – or so I am told, at any rate. Or so I am led to believe. Although when it comes down to it I don’t know what to believe. I’m struggling here – I believe one thing one minute and something quite different the next. I try to gloss over the worst of the contradictions of course but it’s not always easy.

 

First, they created the Dumbhead Universe, and then they made us live in it. First, they created the Nonsense World, and then they told us that they’re going to charge us for the privilege of being in it.  We’ll owe more money than we can ever possibly hope to repay. People on the internet say that the government’s going to put a neural interface in our brains so we can visit the Inner Disneyland any time you please. That’s technology for you, you see – that’s the appliance of science. No one needs to be alone ever again. No one needs to be alone ever again because we all know how frightening that can be. You will have your own very own imaginary AI buddy micro-chipped into you head and you can chat to whenever you feel like it. He will be your invisible friend and you can ask him questions about anything you want. Then you’ll have to put up with all his transparent lies.  ‘Is God real?’ I hear you ask, ‘or is that just another vicious lie put about by the Scientologists?’ They have a lot to answer for you know. It’s often hard to know what to believe in these days. Standards have slipped considerably of late. That’s my opinion anyway. Stuff isn’t what it used to be! Stuff is never what it used to be, not even five minutes ago…

 

I believe something, and then the next minute I believe completely different. I have a new belief every day. It’s all very suspicious to me – I keep getting the feeling that they are experimenting on me, testing the limits of what is possible. Trying to see how far they can push it. They will even tell you they are. They boast about it. They put secret symbols on the back of your favourite breakfast cereal. That was proved by people on the internet. If it’s not a lie then it has to be true. The anchorman on your favourite news show winks broadly at you to let you that it’s for real this time and not just your paranoia. It’s Buster Friendly and his Friendly Friends and they’re messing with your head. They’re messing with your head big time. Firstly they created the so-called ‘Narrative’ and then they made you central to it – you have tried your whole life to escape this vile, self-incriminatory narrative but you couldn’t. It sticks, you see – it sticks to you like an evil wad of used chewing-gum might stick to your new state-of-the-art Nike trainers and the more you try to scrape the vile stuff off you the more it sticks to you.

 

 

 

 

 

Ancient Lies

We flee from the truth because the truth is notoriously unkind. The truth is so unkind, so very unkind. It is no friend to anyone. None of us have any great fondness for the truth, would you not agree? Shall we wail together about the unkindness of the truth, shall we wail out loud and let our brittle voices be carried away by the pitiless wind?

 

To pass the time I ask myself riddles – “I’m as hot as a hare, as blind as a bat, as dry as a bone, as red as a beet and as mad as a Hatter – what am I?” It is a good riddle – one of the very best – but I already know the answer. I know the answer and therefore I can no longer get any satisfaction from repeating it. Not in the way that you can with a decent riddle that you’ve never heard before. I know them all at this stage, however. I know them all and so the game has become terribly, terribly stale.

 

We’re not so different, you and I. We’re not so very different at all, not matter what you might think. We’ve both spent our lives fleeing from the truth and although we might have ended up in different places, under different circumstances, it still comes down to the same thing, does it not? It always comes down to the same thing in the end, I’m afraid. Wherever you might run, it always ends up terminating in the same place. Always the same place. And how tediously familiar that place is! How loathsomely familiar! You turn away, repelled and appalled by the bitterness you hear in my voice. You don’t wish to know what I have to say, and I can’t blame you for that. No one can blame you for that…

 

There is nothing remotely palatable about the message I bear. Nothing convivial – nothing whimsical or light-hearted. I choke on the words as I utter them – they stick in my craw but i have to get them out if I can, one way or another. I have to cough them out, as painful as that might be. We’ve run as far as we can, you and I – we’ve found our way at last to the Grand Impasse that was always waiting for us. There’s no way around it and there’s no way through it. It’s the end of the road. It’s the end of all roads. And where else did you think this path was going to lead you, after all? It’s easy enough to lie to oneself when one is in the flush of youth, and when one has made sure to surround oneself with others equally determined to lie their heads off at every opportunity. We’ve all been there, you see. We’ve all been there…

 

I look back on those days with great nostalgia, as you might imagine. They were glorious days, wonderful days – days that can never be repeated. I don’t really know what I thought I was doing of course; I always had some kind of ridiculous half-baked notion in my head – nothing that would have ever withstood critical analysis, naturally. It’s easy to lie to oneself when one is young and surrounded by others keen on doing exactly the same as you are, as I have said. When you get to my stage of life you will find that lying doesn’t come quite so easily. I still do it of course, but I have to work at it harder. I have to put the effort in, and I no longer have the energy for that. My voice is cracked, hollow and sepulchral and the lies that issue forth from my mouth are no longer as convincing as they once were. In point of fact, they’re not convincing at all. My mouth is full of dust that I can’t spit out, the dust of ancient lies that have long since lost the glamour that once held me in thrall…

 

 

Image credit – openart.ai

 

 

 

The Age of Ass

One minute I was soaring high, conversing with the angels, the next I was cast down into the Pit of Ceaseless Misery, chewing my own limbs, gnawing gaping holes in my own cheeks, and generally injuring myself in whatever way I could. I had become one of the Grey Homunculi, you see – I had entered the Crucible of Unbearable Torment, which – as we all know – is the essential first step for spiritual purification. There is no other path for the sincere candidate, as is well known, and this goes a long way to explain the unpopularity of the Hermetic Tradition amongst modern folk, Generation Z and all that kind of crap…

 

But that’s not what I came here to talk about – indeed it isn’t. Most certainly it is not. I do not wish to poke fun at the crass unworthiness of those who seek only to lose themselves forever in the Foetid Narcissistic Fantasy Realms, for that is their right, and who am I to say what should, or should not, be? What does it matter what I think? There is nothing to be gained from lamenting the fact, nothing at all. There is nothing to be gained from shedding bitter tears over what cannot be changed. This is the Age of Brass, after all, and such an age always leaves one with an unpleasant taste in one’s mouth. A dreadful taste in fact – one of the worst you can imagine. I find myself grimacing to think of it.

 

Is it the Age of Brass or is it the Age of Ass? I confess to being somewhat confused. I cannot be sure, you see – I can never be sure. My memory is not what it used to be. My memory is not what I remember it to be, back in the Golden Age, back in The Days that Used To Be. Back in the Time of Legends. ‘Challenge yourself with a quiz and showcase your abilities!’ This is what we are told, of course. This is the message we have been given. Your skills are the things you’ve learned to do well arising from talent, training, or practice. Your skills are great, your skills are profound. They are the things that you have learned to do, they are the grotesque filth-encrusted habits that make you who you are today. Your skills are both unique and without parallel, they mark you out as one of Humanity’s Great Heroes…

 

 

I was not born as other folk are born you see – in contrast to the usual form of generation, I simply found myself there one day, and was obliged, as a consequence, to take it from there. I was obliged to ‘make the best of things’. I’m being ironic here, you understand. That is such a foolish idiom, would you not agree? What utter nonsense this is. What sort of lame state of mind would come up with such hideous idiocy? There is no better and no worse and it is important to grasp this transcendental truth. The sooner you can grasp it the better, in fact! That’s just my little joke, of course. Just my poor attempt at irony. Things just are and that’s all there is to it. Things simply ARE and so you just have to get on with it, without any of this pitiable whining about ‘better’ or ‘worse’. It’s no good trying to explain this to modern folk however – you’d be wasting your time. There be absolutely no point for the people of this modern age only ever hear what they want to hear. Wisdom is wasted on them, for they only care about going on Instagram and posting lame-ass memes…

 

 

 

Image credit – rare-gallery.com

 

 

 

The Excruciating Thinness Of Life

Do you know that thing where you’re trying your hardest to be real but you don’t know what ‘real’ means? That is a moment of horror my friends – that is a moment of true unexpurgated horror. You’ve been caught out and the exposure is pitiless. The exposure (as we know) is always pitiless – it is inevitably pitiless. You do your best to pull it off – you act in a calm and assured way, you arch your eyebrows in a knowledgeable fashion from time to time and you nod your head wisely at odd intervals – and all the rest of it – but all you’re doing is drawing unwanted attention onto yourself. People can spot that you’re confabulating from a mile away – that’s how very obvious it is. It’s painfully obvious…

 

The shocking truth is that you simply don’t know what it means to be real. You don’t know what it means to be real and you don’t know what it means to be anything. You’ve been bluffing your whole life and no you can’t bluff any more. You’re in trouble but you can’t ask for help because that would be humiliating. That would be worse than humiliating. You’re pretending as best you can but it’s all getting very thin. Like monomolecular thin. It’s getting so thin that it actually can’t get any thinner – you can’t stretch it any further and gaping holes are starting to appear. That’s just the way it goes, however. That’s the way it goes and there’s nothing you can do about it.

 

“Keep it real”, people love to say, “keep it real…” I hear them but I don’t know what they’re talking about. I honestly don’t know what they mean. “I hear you good buddy”, I answer back glibly, “I’m with you one hundred per cent on that.” It’s important to be with people one hundred per cent; it’s important to agree unreservedly with whatever there is to agree with and that’s something we all have to work at. It’s important to always say the right thing. It’s important to always say the appropriate thing and I’m aware of as aware of that as you are. And by the same token it’s important to never say the weird and uncomfortable thing, the kind of thing that makes people look at you strangely, the kind of thing that could make you lose friends (were it to be the case that you actually had any). That’s a basic. It’s a given under any circumstances that we should never say the weird and inappropriate thing. That’s a basic, and what’s more it’s so basic that we shouldn’t actually mention it. We should be careful to never bring this point up, in fact. We should be EXTREMELY careful never to mention it because if we do then that will make people uncomfortable and – what’s more – it could do irreparable damage to our social standing.

 

It’s important to be relaxed, nonchalant, and perfectly at ease in social situations. It’s important to be chilled out and casual and to make sure you only ever say things that are highly appropriate. Social situations can easily become awkward and tense as you know, and nobody wants that. No one ever wants that. We all want to have splendid and magnificent experiences as we journey onwards through life and that’s perfectly normal. There’s no need to feel bad about that. No need to feel awkward or embarrassed about it. We’re all in the same boat there, as I think everyone will agree. The important thing is not to be too greedy about it – if you’re too desperate that will spook people. That will leave you feeling like some kind of a grotesque abhorrent freak and no one wants that. No sir – there isn’t ANYONE who wants that.

 

 

 

 

 

Nothing As Evil…

There is nothing as evil as the Evil World that was created for us to suffer and despair in. For sure there isn’t! That’s a well-known fact, that’s a given. You can ask anyone – there can be no argument on this point. Nothing as evil, nothing as evil…

 

Isn’t this what we hear broadcast from the Digital Pulpit every Sunday? Isn’t this what we were taught as little children when we were compelled to attend religious education classes, listening dutifully – as we were of course obliged to – to the interminable droning of our robot teachers? Is that not part of the New Revised Catechism which we all had to learn by heart?

 

The Dark Creator created the Evil World, the World of Shadows, the World of a Million Sorrows, that we might be PRISONERS there, and become – in time – his pitifully corrupted servants. So were we taught by our robot overlords at any rate, and I see no need to doubt their words. It explains many things, as far as I am concerned. He created the Product, that we might worship it, and He created the Shopping Mall, that we might go there and buy it…

 

And the Malignant One looked upon what He had wrought, and He saw that it was dark and loathsome and full of wickedness and that it did sorely oppress the spirits of all who lived there, and He was pleased. That is the teaching at any rate, and I for one see no reason to doubt it. And the Loathsome One looked upon what He had wrought, and He saw that it was substandard, and not fit for purpose, and altogether cruddy and inferior, and He was pleased. He saw that the Product was shoddy and gimmicky, and that it would bring nothing but emptiness and despair to all those who purchased it, and He was full of delight.

 

We adapt as we must, of course. We always adapt as we must. It’s our trademark, after all. That’s what we excel at. We adapt as we were bound to adapt for we never had any choice in the matter. We bowed to the inevitable and learned to serve our Unpleasant Master and snitch upon our friends and colleagues if we got the chance. Power does not come from the barrel of a gun, as the ancient sages observed, but from encouraging complicity. Was this not always the way? We scurry to obey, we always scurry to obey. Obeying is all we know – we nearly trip over our own feet in our unseemly hurry to please the Corrupted One. “Tell us how we might learn to become better servants of your Wickedness”, we pray fervently, “instruct us on how we might enact your will more diligently in this Place of Bitterness and Despair…”

 

 

 

Image – wallpapercave.com

 

 

 

 

Suppose There Was No Such Thing As Reality

This is a good one, by the way – I’d say you’ll like it. You might like it, anyway. Possibly. It’s a bit of a philosophical conundrum, you see. Did you ever think of this – Suppose there was no such thing as reality and so you had to invent it. What then? How would this work out? Would this be a good idea or would it not? This is looking at things from a bit of a different angle you see, and that’s a very helpful thing to do. Or it can be a helpful thing to do, at any rate. It depends upon what you’re looking for really, I suppose. It all depends on whether you have an appetite for such things.

 

Yes indeed, one generally doesn’t get much from seeing things in the same old way that everyone else does. One doesn’t generally get very much from that at all! Unfortunately not. Only it’s not really unfortunate either because it’s kind of what you deserve, if you ask me. It kind of serves you right for being such a bloody muppet! That’s my opinion anyway. That’s what I tend to think. Nope – you will never get anywhere as a result of looking at things in the same old way that every other bloody eejit does. You won’t get very far at all and it will serve you right. What else would you expect?

 

Suppose there was no such thing as reality, and suppose there was no such thing as you supposing this in the first place? Did you ever think of that? Maybe you did and maybe you didn’t. Maybe you’re the type of person who likes to think upon such things and maybe you aren’t. That’s none of my business anyway so I’ll say no more about it. I’ll pass on to other matters. I’ll go back to the matter under discussion. If there was no such thing as reality then you’d have to make it up for yourself, wouldn’t you? You’d have no choice. You would have to invent it for yourself but this would mean that it wouldn’t actually be up to very much. To be perfectly blunt about it, it wouldn’t exactly be real now would it? That’s the price you pay, however – that’s the price you pay for saying that it’s real when it isn’t. For pretending, in other words. You can’t get away with it, you see – not in the long run. It’ll catch up with you. It will all come tumbling down around your ears soon enough. Before very long. Before you know it, in fact.

 

“What’s the gain, then?” I hear you ask, “What’s the bloody point of the exercise?” You have put your finger on it there, my friend – you’ve put your finger on it and no mistake. Fair play to you for that. I take my hat off to you – you’ve spotted the weakness in the scheme. The fatal weakness, we might say. You have exposed the flaw the heart of it all. You can invent reality if you want to and that’s all fine and dandy but then you’re caught out because you can’t go anywhere with it. You’re caught on the horns of a dilemma (although why they say dilemma has horns I don’t know).

 

You invented reality to make up for there being no such thing but having done so you realise that you’re stuck with a bit of a turkey. It’s not actually real after all, and you’re only codding yourself if you say it is. You are only fooling yourself and what’s the point in that? There’s no gain there, as you yourself so rightly point out. As you yourself so perspicaciously point out. There is absolutely no point, and if you say that there is then you’re only codding yourself – you’re codding yourself like a big eejit. You’re talking out of your hat in that case. You started out with the one problem and now you have two! You’ve double the trouble!  You started out badly and now you’re worse… So that’s just about all I’ve got to say on the subject. There you are. There you have it…

 

 

 

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