Dear diary,
Back in the days when Athens was still an infant, people took note of God and began to argue about him. Trying to get to the bottom of this debate about how creative God truly is, someone said:
“If God actually does possess unlimited creativity, then he should be able to invent an object so heavy that not even he himself could lift it.”
Overhearing this, and being always eager to please, God invented such an object and said: “Here, look!”
Now, so many years later, I was wondering what might’ve happened to this immovable object of infinite mass which God manufactured, so I went searching for it. I began asking questions in the Athenian neighborhoods, and everyone kept telling me that the object no longer exists — the rumor was that it got stolen by the same folks who now own the Ark of the Covenant; thus, it’s probably sitting in some foreigner’s living room somewhere in Sheol.
Well this saddened me, because I was hoping to claim that I found the immovable object and took it back to my house in Minnesota; yet if it truly was just the property of some private owner who isn’t interested in being set aglow by the limelight that never forsakes me, then my big plan is foiled, and this journal entry went nowhere.
So you can imagine how happy I was when my Classified Ad in the online newspaper was answered by a guy in California. His name was Robert, and he was the nicest guy — an ex-weightlifter, who owned many trophies from winning Olympic decathlons, this guy originally purchased the immovable object from some aliens with the intention of using it to train for his profession, but, finding he couldn’t even budge the thing, he just stored it in his shed.
So the immovable object had been sitting out there in his backyard all these years. Robert would occasionally make use of it as a platen table for metalsmithing kitchenware; but, when I spoke with him on the telephone, he said that he was willing to simply give it away for free, if I was willing to do the hauling.
So I got in my truck and took a trip to Robert’s shed in California. As I said, he was the nicest guy — he guided me in using a ramp to get the object onto my trailer-bed, and he gave me a bunch of tips about how to employ a combination of magnetism and various steel beams for leverage, to maneuver the object into my work-studio. He also was instrumental in helping me decide where I should situate it:
“Once you find a place for the object, it ain’t gonna move; so you should really think long & hard about where you wanna position it — don’t go shoving it into a corner haphazardly,” Robert advised me; “I’ve regretted my own careless storage choice for years.”
So I just wanna say: God does exist, and he is the most creative being, ever: Now I own the proof. And I ruined the shocks on my truck bringing that object back home. But it was worth it, cuz now I have something that might serve as the foundation of the black hole that I’m thinking of making. (My blueprints are finished — I’m only waiting on the State Inspector to approve them.)
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Just a couple more thots before I end this entry.
You know how everyone considers prostitutes to be immoral because they wear makeup? I think people are wrong to be so pro-natural-looks, at least in this case. For however your face appears without lipstick or eyeliner merely represents the flesh that you inherited from your parents. If you call that superior to whatever you’re able to paint upon your face, then what we’re saying is that inheritance trumps human will.
I believe the opposite. I think that the will is more important than any biological given. And that’s also why my political view is pro-wig. I think we should all crop our hair close to our head and choose a different wig to wear, each day of our life. For whether we were lucky enough to be born with a full-bodied mane, or if we were gray & balding prior to the age of consent — none of this should matter: that’s just nature, and nature has no plan or clue about what she’s doing; nature is like an opium addict — she’s always half-asleep, dreaming up poems. As it is written:
One thought fills immensity.
[— from William Blake’s “Proverbs of Hell”]
What I wanna see is not the follicle structure that our progenitors cursed us with, but rather the hairstyle we DESIRE our head to possess. I’m talking mind over matter.
But as much as I love the concepts of face-paint and wigs, I actually dislike the idea of cosmetic surgery and hair transplants — those things are too permanent: I prefer the temporary, easily changeable nature of simple washable makeup and removable coiffures.
The same goes for tattoos. If anyone has them, I say: More power to you; may the LORD God bless you and keep you — to each his own — but permanent ink is not my cup of tea. If I ever got a tattoo, I’d choose a temporary one; that way, I could remove it and put a new one on, whenever my mood changes. One week it would be a harlot dragon; and the next week it would be a virgin dragon.
I think Proteus had the right idea. I’m talking about the sea-lion herder who lived in the ocean and could change his shape at will. If he wanted to look like a parakeet, he would slip into a parakeet suit; and if he wanted to have the appearance of an elephant, he would put on his elephant costume. That seems like the Good Life, if you ask me.
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