DATED: 2014
Platitudes on pageantry of life and life’s unfortunate lack of longevity leave me breathless from the sigh hole, shoulders hurt from shrugging. I call it poise.
First Noble Truth is life is shrugging. It’ll be over soon. Life is just another thing. I would not recommend life to an inanimate object. If I ever came across such a thing that appeared to me to be a rock, I'd show reverence. "You are many elements,” I’d say to the alleged rock, “Yet I salute the empirically ambiguous audacity with which you displace time and space in inchoate oughtness opting out of the obligatory sentience of carbon-water farcemeat that is the absurdity of my observance of you, for I am a spectacle of frustration, a farceur fraught with isness from a long lineage of death, and if you were to respond I’d be apt to beat you with a rock.”
If and when you slay the savage beast within, you will find only wisdom, and it’s a Russian doll with another beast inside that will eat you alive. Beat it with a rock.
I feel like I lived 10 thousand lives, and I'm starting a new one. I'm in constant amazement that I'm alive. Life's not that short anymore. Life is the most difficult thing I've ever done. Yet I'm not certain that I've done anything other than what I'm doing now, and now I'm uncertain of that as well. Am I? Really though, Am I? I would like to thank Descartes and Moses for my new pink pony bracelet.
If the ghosts of ancient philosophers try to bake you a cake and eat it too, tell them the enlightenment philosophers made ice cream and cookies, and who really wants cake when you can have ice cream and cookies? The appropriate response is, “Nanny nanny boo boo. Fuck you Aristotle.”
National Geographic ate Tabula Rasa with Twins. And sprinkles. You are who you are at birth. Love and trauma can only whip up the cream and egg filling to add 30% experience to your 70% beast. In Cake’s case, it’s probably a sheep or goat.
And so I have two questions at the Pearly Gates. “Is life only curiosity manifested?” and “Have you read my script?”
INT. COFFEE SHOP - MORNING
A very sillily dressed man fully utilizes his brand new i7 MacBook Pro by typing a script into Microsoft Word. We slowly pan toward his screen. “Eureka!” he exclaims.
INT./EXT. PEARLY GATES - ∞ MO(U)RNING?
NARRATOR
Through his extraordinarily comfortable garment, Simon Peter adjusts his Simon Peter, spits out exactly 3 sunflower seeds and replies, "Yes."
(MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS)
John Rich's Raisin’ McCain is played by naked babies on cumulus clouds upon entrance.
Ronald Reagan places halos on every balding head as they sit quietly in a warm white room. Proceed quietly as they believe they’re the only ones here.
A long, red carpet rolls out with stars, stripes and even smaller confederate stars and stripes.
(POPCORN BREAK)
Welcome back. It's time for General Sherman to take a shit on your chest, then you get to go in the pit with George Wallace to get fire-hosed with HIV positive seminal fluid.
Ronald Reagan shows his hand and it becomes a slithering snake in the garden of ribs.
Satan lights a cigarette while walking towards you, says, “Life’s a cosmic joke.” (7/8 beat) “And death’s the punchline.” Then something explodes behind him but he doesn't look back.
The End.
(Titanic Quintet plays The Entertainer with end credits)