In The Name Of Science

I was angry and upset and not at all happy about what had been done to me in the name of science. ‘Science is great, I know’, I said, ‘but that doesn’t give it the right to play about with my molecular infrastructure…’ I was resentful and deeply perturbed by the fact that the evil corporations now owned my DNA. Evil corporations always own your DNA, don’t they? That’s what they’re aiming for the whole time. That’s their ultimate agenda. ‘Evil corporations always own your DNA’, I murmured reverently to myself. Evil corporations always own your DNA…


I was talking in riddles to myself, trying not to let myself catch on to what I was saying. I am trying to escape my own categories, you see. They’re hyper-valent. They’ve got a death-like grip on me and that’s no word of a lie. I actually feel like screaming – that’s how bad it is. I feel like screaming but I can’t because I’m trapped deep down inside myself. Sometimes I feel as if I’m trapped deep down inside myself but I don’t really know if this is true because I’m buried too deep to know anything anymore. It’s all gone too murky. I don’t even know if I really do feel like screaming or if that’s just something I’m saying to myself in order to feel better. Really, there’s nothing that clear-cut about it – it’s all just murky soup, as I’ve said. It’s all just a murky stew full of  identifiable and probably inedible lumps. You chew away at them of course, but you don’t know if you really ought to…


We inhabit a reality that someone else has invented for us but – as we all know – it’s a pretty damn poor one! Definitely a pretty cruddy type of reality. It’s as if they didn’t really put much effort into it. A derisory attempt, at best. It’s not as if they actually care you see. It is not as if they actually give a shit. We keep on telling ourselves that they do give a shit of course; we maintain the cruddy fiction to the best of our ability. It feels better that way after all. It feels a lot better that way, come to think of it. How good you think it’s going to make us feel to realise that we are busy inhabiting a reality made by someone who not only doesn’t care about us but actually despises and hates us? Not so good right? Not so good at all my friends, and that’s why we all have to try to do our patriotic duty in maintaining the fiction. That’s why we have to salute the flag.


People will hiss and boo if you don’t do your patriotic duty, as well you know. They will tear you into little pieces. Like confetti. They’ll make human confetti out of you in no time. We all know that – we all know that instinctively and no one has to explain it to us. No one has to come along and spell it out. We all know that we are ruled by evil corporations, we all know it very well. We’re not stupid after all – we might be afraid but we’re not stupid. Far from stupid. Far from stupid but also just a bit stupid. Just a little bit. Do you perhaps remember those funny little advertisement they used to have on the back of comics books way back in the day? Where they were trying to sell you these weird stupid things that no one would believe in these days?  Like those corny little ads that said ‘Grow your own living robots from spores – all you need is a pint of tap water.’


No one would believe that now of course. In those days it was quite normal. It was company after all – that was the main thing. The robots were company which was important if you couldn’t get the human kind. Which some of us couldn’t. Which a lot of us couldn’t. ‘Grow your own living robots’, the ads said, ‘and in time – if you took good care of them – they would form their own civilizations’. Some of them were pretty advanced civilizations too, I don’t mind telling you! A lot more advanced than our own stupid cruddy selfie-obsessed civilization, and that’s a fact!









Mullet Head

So I got myself a mullet haircut and became Mullet Boy but what I had forgotten was that a mullet is also a fish and so I became a bottom feeder. I became Fish Boy instead but I could not honour the exalted status of my destiny and so…


What am I supposed to say now, huh? Just answer me that, just answer me that. I’m blabbering helplessly like a pathetic fool at this stage. I’m looking for redemption from the mouths of bastards. I’m looking for redemption from the mouths of bastards but do you think I’ll ever find it?


I set out to become Mullet Boy but it was never going to work out for me. Almost right from the beginning things started to go wrong for me. Things started to go off the rails for me almost immediately, can you believe that? There was no ‘honeymoon period’ – just a long slow decline. The infamous decay function cutting in straightaway without so much as a murmur of apology, without so much as a ‘by your leave’.


Fate has no manners, did you ever hear that saying? Probably not, seeing as I just made it up just now. Seeing as I made it up just now out of pure spite. Spite is one thing I’m not going to run out of any time soon! So much from my dreams, huh? Pathetic as they were. And I’d be the first to admit that. All I wanted was to be Mullet Boy, all I wanted was to be another mullet head in a world full of mullet heads. Mulleting along happily with all the other good old mullet heads. Only it all started to go sour on me right from the word ‘go’.


I automatically assumed that I was great, you see. I made that assumption. As you do, as you do. How was I to know any different? I automatically assumed that I was great and then set out on this basis. Only I never did set out of course because the decay function set in straight away. It got there before me. My dreams started to decay almost immediately. They smelled like a pool of rancid Camembert on a hot afternoon. If there could ever be a symbol for the decay function, what would it be? What would the sigil for the decay function look like? Answers on a postcard please, answers on a postcard. That’s what they used to say, you know. Back in the days before the decay function had been invented. Send us a  postcard from hell and let us know how you’re doing. What’s the glyph for the decay function? What’s its coat of arms? A maggot resplendent in a field of oozing puss? A nematode rampant on a field of nematodes?


I automatically assumed that I was someone – I automatically assumed that I was a person, that I was a self. ‘Now you’re a person, now you’re a self,’ I told myself stridently. Embrace it. Build your life on that foundation. Seize the day. Seize the day before it seizes you and shakes the living shit out of you. Rejoice in the authenticity of your freshly-minted ego identity. Hot off the press as it was, hot off the press as it was. Hot and steaming guvnor, hot and steaming – just the way you like it.


I automatically assumed that I was somebody but that didn’t last long! Although now that I hear myself coming out with all this crap I’m forced to question myself. ‘Is all this really true?’ I ask myself. It really true or is it just another of my lies? Whenever I hear myself coming out with stuff like this I wonder if I’m not just coming out with yet another of my lies. Another of my old, old lies – only given a quick ‘brush-up’ so that it looks half-way new. Given a hasty make-over…


My lies are so pernicious, you see. They’re horrifically pernicious. They coagulate in great ungainly clumps and form entire ecosystems all by themselves. A variety of diverse creatures can live in these ecosystems. They don’t exactly thrive it’s true, but they do eke out a living. They survive from day to day in some kind of fashion, at least. They find niches for themselves and hang on grimly. They hang on grimly in the face of overwhelming adversity.


My lies are so very pernicious. I set out to be a mullet head in the face of terrible adversity but I soon had that beaten out of me! I got the green light but then the next thing I knew I was well and truly snookered. I got the ‘thumbs-up’ but then the next thing I knew I tripped up and fell down a deep dark hole. I was just on the point of launching into big old spiel there about how badly I wanted to be this thing which I somehow thought existed (because I was so ridiculously naïve, although ‘naïve’ isn’t really the word I want) but which didn’t.. I was just about to go down that road but I caught myself in time. ‘Thank God for that’, I hear you say, ‘thank God that…’








The Book Of Fate

In the future there won’t be any humins but there will be sociobots. Everyone will want to be a sociobot; even if they didn’t want to be a sociobot there would still have to be. Everyone always has to be a sociobot. Everyone always has to be.


When you are sociobot you have to buy all the products – that is your main function. When you are sociobot you won’t care about all the other sociobots. When you are sociobot you only care about buying the products, you care very much about buying the product because the products have lots of special kudos-boosting power.


Kudos is the most important thing in the world when you’re a sociobot. Kudos is when all the other sociobots think you’re great and want to be you. They don’t just want to be like you, they want to be you. They want that very much.


All the other sociobots want to be you because their lives are so empty and meaningless. To be a sociobot is to have a life that is totally empty and totally meaningless. That is what it means to be a sociobot – it means that your life is profoundly devoid of all meaning.


When you are sociobot you always have to be searching for kudos. You’re searching, searching, searching – always searching. When you obtain the precious kudos then you are called a ‘winner’ and when you fail to find any kudos in your life then you are said to be a ‘loser. When you are a winner then all the other sociobots want to be you, but when you are a loser then everyone will shun you in the street.


When everyone shuns you then you will become sad. You will become a sad, sad sociobot. You can’t get any kudos, not even a little tiny bit. You can’t get any. You have negative kudos then; you have negative kudos because everyone wants to avoid you. Everyone wants to pretend that you don’t exist and that’s what negative kudos is all about. They want you to pretend you don’t exist too. Negative kudos is the worst thing ever – it’s like an illness that disfigures you and causes you to smell very bad. No amount of antiperspirant can cover up this smell. It is deeply offensive and no one can bear it.


All the other sociobots are afraid of you; they are afraid to acknowledge that you exist in case they catch the negative kudos off you. Negative kudos can be caught by association so no one will associate with you. They will shun you. They will shun you in the street. And when this happens you will have to live in a very special world, an unacknowledged world, an invisible world. It is a shadow world, a world of ignominy. Ignominy clings to you like a shroud – you could never get rid of it. It’s a taint that no detergent can ever remove. When you are a loser sociobot then you have to have to do a lot of suffering. There’s nothing else for you but lots of suffering.


It doesn’t matter if you are suffering to all the other sociobots though. They don’t care because they are sociobots and that’s what sociobots are like. They are very uncaring. They don’t care about the other sociobots; all they care about is gaining kudos so that they can be happy winner sociobots. All they care about is buying the product all day long. They buy the product and take selfies.


This is how it’s going to be in the future – the future belongs to the sociobots and that’s a fact. It is written that this will be so. It is written in The Book of Fate. It is written in The Book of Fate and so there is nothing that you and I can do about it.









I Had Become My Own Enemy

I was losing freedom every second, trapped in an ever-decreasing spiral. I was trapped in a game of my own devising, trapped in a game that I had never intended. I had become my own enemy; I had become my own jailer. ‘Throw away the keys, throw away the keys,’ I yelled like a complete fool, neither knowing nor caring what I was saying. I had thrown away all responsibility to the four winds in my excitement. Paranoia came in then, as it always does. It came in through the back door and before very long I was starting to suspect my own shadow.


Farting like a rascal, I seized the hilt of my broadsword with both hands and took the fight to the enemy. I was playing the game. ‘Smite the enemy, smite the enemy, smite the enemy,’ the robot voice inside my head intoned passionlessly. I was playing the game but I didn’t know it. I was losing freedom every minute but I just couldn’t see it. I had to obey the robot voice. Everyone always has to obey the robot voice…


‘Obey the robot voice,’ the robot voice intoned mercilessly, and we all knew that we had to obey. We all knew how very important it was to obey – it’s important to obey the voice that tells you to obey. We had to obey because the robot voice was our own thoughts – everyone always has to obey their own thoughts. We’d be in trouble if we didn’t. We’d be in terrible trouble if we didn’t. Can you imagine what trouble you’d be in if you didn’t obey your own thoughts? You’d be up in court for sure, listening in dumb silence to the serious charges are being brought against you. The sheer enormity of your crimes would shock even the noisiest person into stunned and horrified silence.


The days were long and the nights were longer, and yet somehow it all went by in a flash. The space inside my skull was cavernous and cruel and once the echoes started up there was no stopping them. The best thing was not to move at all. The best thing was to lie low and hope that nothing bad happened. Piles of old thoughts lay on the floor gathering dust. They were slowly rotting. Larvae were hatching within them – they will emerge in the night when you are asleep and creep silently across the floor, their pale bodies glistening in the moonlight. I wished I’d never thought them – the thoughts, I mean. The thoughts had come thick and fast at the time no one and I had never paid any heed to them but now that I could actually see them my stomach writhed in disgust within me. I had never paid any attention to them at the time but now that I could actually see them it was a very different story. It was very different story indeed…


I was walking along an endless barren plane, picking my way slowly and painfully through piles of jagged volcanic rocks. I was in the badlands. Picking my way, picking my way. Picking my way amongst the piles of vicious rocks. Lost in the cruel and cavernous interior of my own vast skull. My own vast but terribly sterile skull.


Paranoia came in then – it came in through the back door the same as it always does. Waves of paranoia were sweeping in, getting stronger and stronger every time, knocking me off my feet. The undertow was vicious and I knew it was only a matter of time before I got swept out to sea. Swept out into the pitiless ocean of paranoia, to be thrown from one wave to another with any pause, without any possibility of respite.


That’s what always happens when you give up your own freedom of course – you end up chasing your own tail, you end up running from an enemy who never gives up. You run and you run and you run but you can never escape. You can never escape because you have given away on your freedom. It had seemed like a good idea at the time of course. It had seemed like the best idea ever…











Disinformation Is The Order Of The Day

They keep on moving the goalposts and that’s why we never know if we’ve arrived or not. They keep on redefining our core identity too and so even if we did arrive then that would be no good because we wouldn’t know who it was that had arrived. It wouldn’t be us anyway because before we get from A to B our identity would have been switched, as neat as that, as neat as you please. That’s life anyway so I suppose there’s no point in complaining about it – not that I have any intention of stopping, of course. You’d think they’d allow us a little bit of consistency at least, wouldn’t you?


Life’s a tricky thing and I don’t care who hears me saying it! It sets you up and then it knocks you down; it gives you the thumbs up and then it bloody well pulls the plug on you. Life’s a tricky customer and I’m not afraid to be the one to say it. Someone has to be the one to say that after all. Someone has to be the one. I’m not afraid to tell it like it is, but the truth is that I don’t know how it is. That’s the fly in the ointment, I suppose you could say. That’s the dirty big bluebottle in the Nivea face cream now isn’t it? Just look at the ugly great bastard would you – when was the last time you saw a fly as big as that, for God’s sake? It’s the size of a golf ball and it’s still wriggling around. There’s no telling where it’s been – nowhere that you’d want to know about anyway, that’s for sure! It’s a right dirty bastard.


Life’s a lot like that isn’t it? It’s like a pot of Nivea face cream with a dirty grey bluebottle wallowing in it. You want to defy the visible signs of ageing but you’re afraid to put your fingers anywhere near that dirty old fly because you don’t know where it’s been. You’re afraid to dip your delicate fingers in that pot now, as badly as your face might need it. Life’s a lot like that isn’t it? It’s all so lovely and nice and then you spot the fly in the ointment and you don’t know where it’s been. And do you know what – you can’t get rid of that old fat fly no matter how hard you try. No sir you can’t. And even if you could get rid of it (which you can’t) would you ever be able to look at that pot of cream in the same way?


Go on, dip your finger in it and apply liberally to your cracked and moisture-hungry face. I dare you! God knows you need it, after all. Your face is crying out for it. They’ve change the goalposts again you see and you never spotted it right until right the last minute. All the stuff they told you at school was just a con; it was all just pure moonshine. You’re perplexed and confused. You’re at a loss. You don’t know whether you’re coming or going. You had all your ducks lined up neatly in a row and now have all flown away. They’ve flown away in search of sunnier climes. You can see them far off in the sky, heading south. Life’s a lot trickier than you might think you see. It’s not what they told you at school, that’s for sure. It’s not what they tell you on these online self-development courses either. It’s not what the lifestyle gurus tell us – there isn’t anyone honestly telling it telling us how it is, I’m afraid. Disinformation is the order of the day and it always has been.


You follow your dreams and what do you find? You find that they weren’t your dreams after all. You don’t know whose dreams they were but they certainly weren’t yours! You work hard on actualising your goals then you discover to your horror that they don’t mean anything to you anymore. They just don’t any make sense to you. None of it makes sense – your whole life fails to make sense but you’re trapped in it just the same. You started out as one person but that person is now nowhere to be found – they’ve jumped ship! You started out as one person and now you discover that that person never existed in the first place. They made their plans, they put the goals in place, but they never existed – despite all that damnable obsessiveness, despite all the effort and anxiety. You set the trap for yourself but it was never you in the first place, it wasn’t anybody. You’ve short-changed yourself but there’s no one to blame. You scored a world-class goal but then the next thing is that the crowd is booing you…








Rumi’s Guesthouse

I was trying to put as much distance between myself and my mind as I could. Why? Because my mind is bad. Bad, bad, bad. Very very bad. It’s a bad mind. ‘Oh,’ you say, ‘that’s your problem then. That’s nothing to do with me. You just have to deal with it. My mind is good. My mind is a super mind. It’s as good as gold. It’s very helpful. Smart too, don’t you know…’ So off you go – you’re certainly not going to go hanging around with talking to me, me with my bad mind. Me with my rotten, stinking mind. And I wouldn’t like you to be in any doubt about that – it’s a real stinker of a mind! A real old stinker.


‘Say hello to my mind’, I say. Say hello, why don’t you? Introduce yourself. Throw in a few pleasantries, if you’re up to it. If you can manage it. Engage in a bit of small talk. That’s the done thing, after all. The halibut are biting well this year, aren’t they? The birds are flying well – flying better than they ever did. Did you ever see them fly so well? Did you ever, did you ever. Making the small talk, making the small talk. Talking about the things, talking about the things. The fish are swimming very well this year – I’ve never seen them swimming so well! Expressing yourself is very important too – saying what you mean. If you know what you mean, that is. Not everyone does, of course. Not everyone does…


Say hello to my mind, say hello to my mind. Won’t you stop for a chat? Where are you going in such a hurry anyway? Not that there’s much to say, I suppose. Not a lot to say. Little enough to say. The jam’s awful sweet this year, isn’t it? Awful sweet, awful sweet. I wonder if they’ve been putting something into it. I hear the government is involved – there’s a cover-up going on but no one will admit to it. No one will say a word. They’re keeping schtum. They’ll never tell you a thing – they’ll see you die first. They’ll walk straight by you and you dying in the ditch! As if they care. Which they never would. There’s a government conspiracy going on, you see. They say someone put something in the jam. The birds are singing well this season aren’t they? I’ve never heard them in such good voice. That’s a cover-up too of course. It’s all a cover-up…


No one tells the truth anymore – that’s one thing I’ve noticed. I spotted that straightaway. People say I never notice what’s going on but that’s where they’re wrong. They’re wrong, they’re wrong, they’re very very wrong. They couldn’t be more wrong. No one tells the truth any more these days, but they won’t admit it. No one admits anything these days. They wouldn’t admit it if their life depended on it! Stubborn isn’t the word. Stubborn, and pure mean with it – they wouldn’t give you the steam off their piss. They wouldn’t sell it to you ether – or if they did then they’d overcharge you. That’s always the way, isn’t it? There’s a conspiracy going on but no one will talk about it. They are awful tight-lipped about it. Folk just aren’t very friendly around here – they look at you but they won’t say anything. They’ll put you wrong as soon as look at you.


How do you run away from your mind anyway? That’s what I’d like to know. It’s not as easy as it sounds. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve though. You have to be a bit wily in this game you see – you have to learn to throw a few tricks in, a few dodges. You act as if you’re going to say one thing and then you say another. You act as if you’re going to think something but then you don’t. You keep them guessing. You say you’re going to do one thing and then you go and do the other. You say hello but then you leave the room. It’s awfully tiring though – your very soul feels as if it’s tired. That’s what I’ve got I reckon – I’ve got soul fatigue. How to describe it? How to convey the essence of this terrible condition? I try to tell the truth but then people say that I’m lying.


Today is a day just like every other day, and I don’t want to forget that. It’s a day just like any other day and so there’s no point in getting too excited. I’ve seen many such days in my time. Sometimes you think something strange is going to happen but it never does. It never does. It’s a bit of a letdown really, isn’t it? You can’t help feeling that you’ve been cheated. You’ve been swindled yet again. They say there’s a government cover-up going on, of course. They say, they say. I’m in the guesthouse and all the guests have been thrown out. They’ve been shown the door! The place has been swept clean. I’m in Rumi’s Guesthouse and the guests have all being thrown out into the street. They’re complaining of course but no one pays any heed. They’re squabbling and complaining just like the rabble they are, but folks just walk on right by. No one takes any notice…








That’s Why We’re All So Happy

The people were happy because their unconscious projections were going to be manifested in actual reality. They didn’t know that this is why they were feeling so happy. They thought they were happy for some other reason. They thought they were happy because of the product. ‘Oh, oh, the great product,’ they all said, ‘how marvellous the great product is and how lucky we are to have it.’ The product was all sparkly. So very, very sparkly. Everyone loved the sparkly product because it made everything so sparkly. It was an exciting time and everyone was glad. Joyful expectation was the order of the day but no one knew why they were all so joyful. They thought it was all because of the product; they thought it was all because of the product and how sparkly it was.


Some of the people were uneasy however. ‘What will happen when our unconscious or unowned projections finally get realised?’ they were wondering, ‘what will happen then?’ They were the people who weren’t quite so unconscious, of course. Some of them had taken mind-altering drugs. Some of them had had life-changing events. Some of them were odd-balls who didn’t fit in. They were uneasy and troubled because they didn’t know if it would really be a good thing when their psychological projections became real. Maybe it would be a bad thing. Maybe would prove to be a horror that no one had suspected, or ever could suspect. Maybe it would be a bad surprise, not a good one. Dark foreboding filled their hearts. Maybe the machine was evil, they speculated. Maybe the mechanism the satanic in its operation. Maybe it was the Mill of Satan.


Everyone else thought that the machine couldn’t be evil because of the pretty sparkles. They loved the pretty sparkles because they were so pretty. All of these people thought that the machine was good and that it would do many great things to help them and that it would all be very exciting. It would be exciting and good, not exciting and bad. Exciting things were very good they thought, and when the time came to purchase the product this would be very exciting indeed. The machine made the product and the product was very good because it made everyone happy and it was great to be happy. More than just ‘great’ it was of vital importance because everyone wanted to be happy and everybody liked it. Being happy was good. The sparkles made people happy too because there were so pretty…


Purchasing the product is very important because when we purchase the product our unexamined projections come true! We didn’t know what exactly was going to happen when our unexamined projections came true but that was okay – we knew it was all going to be very great indeed and that was all that we needed to know. That’s all anyone needs to know – that it’s all going to be super-great and super-wonderful. We talk together about how great it is going to be. ‘It’s going to be so fabulous, isn’t it?’ we say, and then the other person will reply ‘Yes, yes, yes – it’s going to be so fabulous for sure!’ And then everyone feels excited. ‘Lie on the blue dreamer and put the helmet on your head’ the robot voice in our heads tells us. Lie on the blue dreamer and put the helmet on your head, lie on the blue dreamer and put a helmet on your head, lie on the blue dreamer and…


We were happy because the good thing was going to happen. We were happy because it’s a good thing when the good thing happens. Everyone knows that – everyone knows that’s a very good thing when the good thing happens. There isn’t going to be any argument about that, anyway! We don’t know why it’s a good thing for the good thing to happen. Who’s to say? We don’t need to know anyway. It’s bad form to ask. It’s not really the done thing. We all know that being happy is good and we all know that purchasing the product is going to make us happy. It’s a happy thing because that’s when our projections become real. That’s when our dreams become real. We don’t really know what our dreams are of course – we never really look into that very much. What we do know however is that it’s going to be good. It’s going to be great and that’s why we are all so happy…