Thursday, October 20, 2011

The Killing Joke

Warning: This is not for those who sway to the optimistic or realistic set of mind. Everything I choose to state here, is but a personal , momentary, perception of the world. A fleeting fancy for me, even, but worth considering nonetheless. Those of you who are cynical, nilhilistic or psychopathic, green haired, and endowed with a blood-red Glasgow smile, read on.


Have you ever wondered what it would be like to know, and to understand, the true pointlessness in your life?
Well, don't let me keep you. The door's that way. Hit yourself with the doorknob on your way out.
But if you have, I have something to share with you.
The world is shrouded in pointlessness.
An infinite universe, extending out into the far reaches of existence, as we know it.
The cold, dark, null.
With us, as a sole exception.
Or are we?
Depending on your belief in things, either everything came down to an all-seeing, all-knowing, bearded man with absolute cosmic power, made Adam, (and his seemingly lesser half, Eve), naked as babies, and stuffed them in a rather large garden, that lacked in nothing, euphoric to the human mind.
Or maybe we're just a massive mistake.
One thing after another. An event that snowballed in the most epic of proportions. Evolution. So if that puddle of slime finally coalesced into a pink meatsuit, such as yourself, it wasn't by the direction of any God. Or any guiding entity.
Simply put, we're just a big joke.
Hold on. I can hear what you're thinking. I do that sometimes. Anyway, linger a moment to ponder upon yon wise statement.
If all we are is just an epic coincidence, a series of events, unfortunate or not is quite another topic, then what is life, this false blending of colors that we see, but a joke?
And, if I haven't made myself quite clear, this isn't a joke of the humorous kind. The opposite, infact.
It's a much more morbid sort of humor. The kind you feel when you're on Death Row, and you've got a smile on that face again. The kind you feel when you're a cancer patient, and you're tripping out on crystalmeth with not a pain in the world. The kind you feel when you're on your deathbed, and you know that nothing you ever did, will make a difference to anything, and you smile.
We reach, we scratch, we crawl, we bleed, and we betray, to attain power, wealth, fame and position.
For what?

By whose standards? Not your own.
Achievement in this world, is but the expectations of your father, handed down to you. And his father to him.
This cycle goes on all the way back to the first man who ever stood a moment to think, "What is the point of it all?", and shit himself in fear of realization. Instead, he created things of distraction and deception. Hollow images to make the world seem more real and less pointless. Thus we have the system, of modern society.

Because in the end, it served no purpose. Ayn Rand wrote, paraphrased and summarized, "Everything is a tool. A means to an end. What lie does a thing live, if it serves no purpose?"
Hence, everything that you are, is a lie.
You serve no purpose in living. Not in an universe that tends towards non-life.
You effect no lasting changes in a world that will outlive you, in a blink of an eye.
In a single moment of this world, the memory of you after you die, shall be forgotten and dusty.

Your Life. Is a Lie.
And what is this if not dark, dark humor?
Humor so grim it makes you want to tear your eyes out.
You now realize how little a shit the world gives about you.
And this, is the funniest joke of all.
Because we are made to live it anyway. Because most of us cannot bear, not living even this, pale shrouded lie.

So weep tears of blood, and betray everything you ever stood for.

Indulge in every dark fantasy your twisted mind could ever conceive. Go beyond the bounds of mortal men in the lengths of your depravity. Ravage your body and mind in self torture, to make the world scream.
It's all just a joke.