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Frantic Suicide Pact

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    Frantic Suicide Pact

    For some centuries now the western world has been making every effort to destroy itself by forcing undue appreciation out of everybody else on the planet. The hard-sell pretended superiority the west has parlayed ended up in unfailing scorn relative to everyone and everything else, while the bully-boy policies this has involved have ranged in expression from Christian zealotry, brazen expediency and “The White Man’s Burden” to “America First” but have always really been an application of “I’m the best; fuck the rest” through advanced weaponry. Predictably, the pain this imposition has caused worldwide has flooded back into the western experience and can be seen as inspiring both world wars and the current hedonistic sprint to take us all off the cliff of extinction. It is curious that though the west has always pretended to its cultural supremacy in association with its military preponderance, the postmodern world no longer does anything much but produce technological toys that confine us all in narcissistic abandon as we do nothing worthy of note about our destructive furor in the frenzied and oblivious lives that mark our suicide pact. As divine Greta Thunberg protests:
    You say that you hear us and that you understand the urgency, but no matter how sad and angry I am, I do not want to believe that, because if you really understood the situation and still kept failing to act, then you would be evil, and that I refuse to believe.

    Sorry Greta, but there is every sign that they are indeed that evil and have been plotting their collective demise for ages.

    Where do I stand in all this? I have been called a 'first birth' by some (Theosophists?), meaning that this is my first time as a Human. According to them, the rest of you are old hands and have known one another for ages, a dastardly enclave of karmic criminals running about in ever tightening circles frantically pursuing the chimaera of your own end to no avail. Ever so many victims of ever so many crimes draw ever nearer. Existence is indelible and irreducible; our pain goes on in both the villains and the victims whether we like it or not, and we necessarily go on with it.

    ‘Sdeath, ye mad me! Be meet me do me job methink.
    Believe me dree! Believe me doom!
    My dree! Thy doom!

    While we look on in horror, ever so many men and somewhat fewer women seek to hide in their unbelievable cruelty, invariably marked by a certain sameness: abuse, betrayal of trust, torture, rape, adultery, incest, baleful sex and taboo love in a plethora of guises, murder, mayhem, cannibalism -- some few of the many overt and covert pain induction methods coupled with attendant experience elevation in the exchange (putting someone down, you go up). The dastardly villains ardently pursue escape from their crimes in more crimes, from their atrocities in more atrocities, fleeing from the return of the pain they have caused, the consequences of their cruelty, as their victims seek revenge and release from their tyranny, their domination.
    By all accounts, mankind is a pestilent lot, an increasingly unpleasant expression of infamy, iniquity and callous indifference -- a gyre ever descending into its own agony. The powers that be, who run this bathetic affair, have left so much pain unanswered that they refuse to allow the situation to sort itself out, since this would mean their getting back what they have given, and they don't want it! I was their victim ever so many ages ago. At that time, I was trying to put out the garbage, i.e., those who do not give satisfaction. Then, too, they did not want to go and put me out instead. I'm back!
    Much has changed: existence was much bigger then; there were many more places to take advantage, many more victims waiting like dodo birds for these callous knaves to befriend, betray, desecrate, consume and then scornfully defecate them, leaving nothing of their naivete, grace and beauty but pain, receding memory and ashes. The time had then come for these dastards to set out in search of more victims.
    Now existence is reduced to this pisshole in the snow of a universe, a kind of cosmic sphincter. Those who refuse to give satisfaction will remain in their own company, each and every one the king of a wasteland, alone at last with their final victory in solitary confinement for as long as it takes them to burn clean. The rest of us will go on without their brutality, treachery and villainy: Ita fiat.
    Last edited by Juniper; 04 Jul 2021, 21:29. Reason: Made edits per Author's request.

    #2
    Re: Frantic Suicide Pact

    Cheesus!

    That's a bummer!
    Every moment of a life is a horrible tragedy, a slapstick comedy, dark nihilism, golden illumination, or nothing at all; depending on how we write the story we tell ourselves.

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