Dear diary,
Is it possible that life will ever stop being so frantic? Is it even an available option, that life will calm down? One looks around one’s earthly living quarters and sees all types of existence, which are all so varied and yet seem to share, at their core, the same spazzy quintessence: whether it’s insects or birds or mammals or bacteria and viruses: they all appear desperate to live more more more more! I wish that life would just cool it; take a chill pill: relax. Because everything expires eventually: that’s entropy—you’re not fooling death by acting all jittery and suspicious while eating your food. Look at the robins: they appear so patient when you see them standing on the lawn in their formal ware, but then they jut in paroxysms when pulling a worm from the soil.
Did you ever notice, by the way, how much your innards resemble a worm? I’m talking about the human digestive system. Throw the stomach away, and the bones, and all the other stuff on the outside like limbs and face, and what’re you left with? The intestines: which are like one giant worm. You could take a plastic doll, or a toy figurine of a soldier, and hollow out its torso with a hot spoon; then arrange a regular garden-variety worm into a zigzag spiral shape, insert it into the hollowed-out cavern of the soldier or damozel, and voilà: you’ve created a human.
I think of life as the natural tendency of the world. The world is made of stuff, and all that stuff interacts: quarks, photons, protons, neutrons, electrons, atoms, molecules… I’m not a scientist, so forgive my shoddy sales-pitch. The stuff of the world clings together, because things love each other, or else things fly apart because they hate each other, or they orbit around one another because they’re curious but not yet ready to commit to an official fusion… I’m thinking about what happened after the Big Bang. It’s not at all interesting to consider what the world was like before the Big Bang, because it was just God floating inside himself, waiting to speak the magic word. But after that word was uttered, the Big Bang happened (“bang” was actually the sound of the word being spoken), and all the stuff swarmed around like gnats in a sunbeam. Joining, repelling, circling… All this stuff – where did it come from? The answer is that it was always here: as I just said, it was God floating inside himself. Then God broke when he spoke. (As I’ve explained repeatedly elsewhere, I only refer to the creator of the world as “he” because God possesses one male sex organ.) Now the tiny divine fragments—the photons quarks bosons and positrons—interact, as I explained, and begin to form forms. Form (verb) = to form. Form (noun) = that which is formed. So stuff forms forms. More complex than the tiniest godling fragment, but still pretty simple. Some stuff forms into the shape of a wheel. Other stuff forms into the shape of an axle. Now you can see where this is going: When the wheel stuff meets the axle stuff, they join together and become one flesh – that’s how horseless buggies are born. So this process continues: As the temperature of the world goes from hot to cooler, the stuff, which was initially boiling like lava up in space, begins to thicken, clot, congeal, set, coagulate, and jell into a cake – it forms a mass. First, single-celled organisms are born from little molecules, and then eventually squids, which crawl onto land and become wolves, which mutate into wolfmen. These are the first human beings. Some Christians are like: “I don’t believe you. My great grandfather was NOT a werewolf.” But, as a scientist, I can simply shout “Yes he was – here’s a picture to prove it.” Because, as it says in “Song of Myself”, at the end of section 25:
I carry the plenum of proof & every thing else in my face,
With the hush of my lips I wholly confound the skeptic.
I don’t have to say anything at all, to convince Christians to follow me. Being the Antichrist, I have one single plan: thwart God’s will. All that prophecy that is written at the end of the Bible, telling how I the Antichrist will act when I appear on the Earth, what I will say and how I’ll accomplish my scheme: I just make sure to avoid those things. Thus I make God the false prophet. My only job is to be born, wait around, and die. So if I ever begin to feel pressure and anxiety about money matters or apartment repairs that need to be done, I just remind myself to “keep my eye on the ball” – that’s what my grandpa used to say: “Keep your eye on the ball, Bryan.” My grandpa was a baseball fan, so all of his wisdom was presented in metaphors taken from that game. He was the first hairless werewolf among the near-humans. Instead of being covered with stinking fur all over his body, my grandpa only had hair on his head, and sometimes a mustache, like a proper gentleman. All his other pre-hominid neighbors in Poplar, Wisconsin were hirsuter than Sasquatch – that’s what distinguished my grandpa from the pack. He should have been the king; but instead he was forced to buy cattle from truckers and keep his own garden. I always told him that he should invent robots to tend the crops. But he argued that if he were to manufacture an android farmer, he’d engineer it so that, the second you turned it on, its right spade-knife (for he would build it with spade-knives in place of hands) would immediately plunge straight into its own robot head. Why? Because this would be the perfect machine: it would have JUST ONE command, and it would follow it perfectly. Thus entropy would have no time to lure the beast from its intended path. If you allow computers too much leeway, they always end up botching the mission. Think about HAL 9000 from the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968). He’s so-so at chess. Now think about the start of the King James Bible: the book of Genesis. God makes two perfect robots to tend his spaceship, and the first thing they do, once they’re left alone, is become moral philosophers. They partake of the fruit of the forbidden tree and “become like God, to know both good and evil”: then, as duplicate deities, they create for themselves a perfect robot in their own image: Cain – the first serial murderer. And so on and so forth. That’s what happens when you mimic the LORD God’s preoccupation with good and evil. But my grandfather, as the forebear of Antichrist, wanted his mechanical garden slave to be exclusively GOOD. That’s why he made it with spade-knives for hands, having diamond-sharp blades, plus a spring-loaded right arm and a soft-serve, easy-to-reach cranium. And its mind was on the outside of its skull.
So, as I was saying, stuff combines into other stuff. You can use your phone camera to capture a video record of cells dividing. Just summon a frog from out of the nearby creek and tell it “Hold still.” Then set your phone-cam’s mode of perception to Microscopic Time-lapse, and watch the little green egg-like building blocks that comprise the frog’s physicality begin to quiver and split. That’s growth in action. It’s the same with human babies: The sperm begins as a tadpole; it flies toward the large green egg above the horizon. It burns up as it enters the solar atmosphere, but its spirit continues to inform the star how to progress. Soon a zygote can be seen glowing inside the satellite’s cornea. (Its center has now expanded beyond its circumference.) The initial modifications that all pre-birth mammals endure, you will note, echo faithfully the whole history of evolution: first the zygote looks like a baby squid, with a barbed tail for thrashing; next it grows to an embryo, which resembles a bristly grey wolf; and finally it emerges from the matrix into the arms of its delivering doctor, who squeegees away the birth-slime to reveal the shape of a miniature gentleman, boasting a spongy mane of hair and a pencil moustache.
But leftists are only wasting their time if their message is anything other than “End capitalism NOW.” Because, no matter how much leftward progress is made in this country, it’ll all just evaporate in the subsequent generations, IF capitalism is not eradicated. For capitalism incentivizes right-wing behavior. Here, I’ll prove my point: As I write this, in the bad year 2018, the most leftward-leaning among the politicians that the public is allowed to view is U.S. Senator Bernie Sanders, and he has a litany of slightly left goals that he touts whenever he gets within speaking-range of a bullhorn; and people—I am one of them—cheer Mr. Sanders and say “Yes! he’s got all the answers!” HOWEVER, when you ask Mr. Sanders who his heroes are, he does not answer “William Blake, Franz Kafka, Marcel Duchamp, Alfred Jarry, and Amos the Prophet”; no, Mr. Sanders says “My hero is Franklin Delano Roosevelt.” Now who is this Roosevelt? The priests say that FDR was the 32nd President of the United States. But if you ask around at your local saloon, you’ll find that he’s popularly known as the left-wing’s savior and the right-wing’s enemy. This is dead wrong: he’s the RIGHT’s savior and the LEFT’s worst nightmare. Why do I say this? Because FDR saved capitalism – he implemented all those plans that are indeed left-leaning, which Mr. Sanders wants to implement all over again; and yet consider what happened, in the years following FDR’s administration: The populace, which was starving and wilted, quickly snapped back to health; the most recent of the recurrent capitalist boom-bust disasters—the Great Depression—had stomped the people flat, and they were pissed off and ready to chuck the system to the curb—the U.S. public was set to kill capitalism—but then FDR comes and implements the Sanders Plan, and the people’s corpse is revivified: the populace resurrects… yet, because the overarching system of capitalism was not entirely eliminated, the ultra-wealthy Scrooges immediately got to work chipping away at this grand life-sustaining mechanism. Now fast-forward roughly one generation, and we have the Great Recession (yet another of the recurrent capitalist boom-bust disasters) and the people are wilting again, and the populace is raging and crying out the same slogans as were shouted during the former Depression; and we’re all yearning for the implementation of FDR-style plans, because we need to be resuscitated. Thus I ask: Why can’t we see the problem! If Senator Sanders’ ideas, which are a reboot of FDR’s ideas, are so darn good (which I believe they are), then why are we having to fight like mad to implement them AGAIN, so soon after they were initially implemented!? Instead of hating him, right-wingers should LOVE Sanders and vote for him, because only Sanders can save their beloved system of capitalism. Right-wingers are always yearning for a freer market. But a totally unfettered capitalism would last about as long as my grandfather’s robot – the one that had a single function: to knife itself in the head.
Sorry about the political detour. I know it doesn’t fit here, and I hate that I wrote it; but this journal is for spilling out the contents of my fret-box, whether I like them or not; and one can’t always display only the nice pink parts of one’s enigma, otherwise people will grow suspicious: “Where’s the sickly orange parts?” – well the above is my reptilian zone preserved in amber. That’s as close as I get to orange. Over the ages, I graduated from lizard to semi-human; that’s why my intellect’s brilliant sector is reptilian. Like the stages of growth of a fetus, the brain preserves a record of all the things it has been. So if it’s true that humankind will eventually stop orbiting itself and its atoms will desist from repelling each other and rather cling together in truest love, till they form a more complex machine, a more perfect union, which shall float inside of its previous manifestation, just as God floated inside of God before the Big Bang, then these howling tendencies of my werewolf nature will remain, or at least traces of them shall echo, however faintly, in the lowest parts of that upcoming overman’s weblog.
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