the dark sighed

dropping off the edge of nowhere  /  everything I've ever known

16 February 2006

Operation Latte Thunder, Go!

Written by Yours Truly ( Contact the author of this post )
Published on February 16th, 2006 @ 09:45:29 pm, using 395 words, 2809 views
Categories: Random Musings

We wanted to blast the world free of history.... picture yourself planting radishes and seed potatoes on the fifteenth green of a forgotten golf course. You'll hunt elk through the damp canyon forests around the ruins of Rockefeller Center, and dig clams next to the skeleton of the Space Needle leaning at a forty-five degree angle. We'll paint the skyscrapers with huge totem faces and goblin tikis, and every evening what's left of mankind will retreat to empty zoos and lock itself in cages as protection against the bears and big cats and wolves that pace and watch us from outside the cage bars at night.

"Imagine," Tyler said, "stalking elk past department store windows and stinking racks of beautiful rotting dresses and tuxedos on hangers; you'll wear leather clothes that will last you the rest of your life, and you'll climb the wrist-thick kudzu vines that wrap the Sears Tower. Jack and the beanstalk, you'll climb up through the dripping forest canopy and the air will be so clean you'll see tiny figures pounding corn and laying strips of venison to dry in the empty car pool lane of an abandoned superhighway stretching eight-lanes-wide and August-hot for a thousand miles."

I am the all-singing, all-dancing crap of this world.... I am the toxic waste by-product of God's creation.

I've met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, "Why?" Why did I cause so much pain? Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness? Can't I see how we're all manifestations of love? I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God's got this all wrong. We are not special. We are not crap or trash, either. We just are. We just are, and what happens just happens. And God says, "No, that's not right." Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can't teach God anything.

You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everyone else, and we are all part of the same compost pile.

Step forward into your cave. Find your power animal and slide. ;)

Fight Club
Fight Club: A Novel by Chuck Palahniuk
Contemporaneous Auditory Narcotics:
or, What my speakers are currently pumping...
The Pixies - Death To The Pixies 1987-1991
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the dark sighed

The sometimes random musings of a carbon-based lifeform, the manifested equivalent of three buckets of water, and a handful of minerals.
(Those very buckets turned upside-down, supply the percussive factor of forever).
-with nods to Saul Williams.




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