It’s really frightening to stop and think about the reality of life in America. When you know what’s really going on—my God—it’s hard not to run off on a Crystal Meth and DMT-binge, lobbing Molotov cocktails into the windows of local stores, and ranting about how the JFK assassination was the start of it all. Strange, maniacal times are afoot, but, for whatever reason, people don’t seem to care.
Have we been defeated? Have our assess and spirits been kicked that much? Nowadays, a rant will elicit a response along the lines of, “Yeah, yeah we know this man—you’re not telling us anything new—anything special. So drop the pretentious lecture and just let us be.”
We’re all just biding time, but not in a good way. We’re not like the prizefighter picking his shot. We’re like the passengers left behind on the Titanic. It is going down. We all know it, but all we can do—all we can say is, "Stop your damn screaming and let me enjoy the cool night air—maybe a snifter of cognac—and let me die in peace."
Well, I have one thing to say to you, “FUCK YOU.”
This country can still be ours again. This land of the free can actually be free. We just have to stop being a bunch of lazy, couch-surfing pussies. Feminists, I am sorry if my language offends you, but these wretched bastards need to hear something that might motivate them. So, if you have a viable alternative, then please let me know and I’ll insert that instead.
Anyhow—as I was saying—we can take back our streets, our cities, and our government. Let’s start by polluting the water supply with massive doses of 2C-E and copies of Finnegans Wake. We have to remember that there is a reality behind the concocted, hyper-mediated, fictional monster that is America. There are primal feelings and urges—driving us like instinct drives an animal—oh, maybe because we are fucking animals you goddamn Baptist swine (meanwhile the evangelicals are just literally fucking animals, because we all know how much they like literal versions of…oh, well, I digress).
Yes, that’s right—a reality—a reality that extends from one end of the electromagnetic spectrum to the other—from long-waves to gamma-rays and what we humans call visible reality is just a tiny sliver somewhere near the middle and, unfortunately, the good of human evolution has taken a back seat to the presupposition of the human eye superior—too bad blind people don’t rule the world—imagine that—imagine a world based purely on thought and inner experience—who says we cannot come closer to utopia?
Hell, even the founding fathers understood the concept of a more perfect union. It’s not about perfection per se, but the journey towards—always up, up, and away—straight ahead mach 10 until eternity.
So get of the couches. Bleach off the S.S. I’m Fucked adorning the side of your luxury liner of a recliner that has become your destined vessel for this once-in-a-goddamn-eternity of a voyage.
Do you even understand that? This is it! This is all there ever will be of you. Even if there’s some sort of ineffable soul that journeys on—it’s not you. It’s not an ego, i.e. a personality resulting from a peculiarly unique aggregate of bio-chemical and socio-economic factors. Bob dies man, Bob dies. Enjoy this shit. It’s your one and only time in ALL of ETERNITY.
And if you think that on your deathbed you will give one second’s thought to this idea that, “Hey, at least I was a nice, sedated member of society who paid my bills on time and followed the rules...”
Well, then you’re in for one massive-fucking-disappointment.
The only thing that you’re going to feel is regret. There, in your last moment, that life-ending sunshine will break through your eye curtains and you’ll find yourself feeling that primitive, tribal self and you’re going to think, “Fuck me.”
And then you’re going to die. And I’m going to smoke a bong on your grave. Then I’m going to fuck my insane and insanely beautiful “soul” mate on your tombstone. Then she’s going to go home and bathe in a bathtub full of wine—why—because she fucking wants to and she gets it.
...Okay so maybe I was just really high, listened to too much Bill Hicks and went ape shit on my blog.