Sunday, January 27, 2008

I am the god-Man, Goo-Goo, Goo Joob!

"I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together."

There were rumors of a new leader around, a Super Leader, unlike you and me. A leader who could be blindly followed and unburden his followers from the unbearable oppression of thinking. No mere mortal was he rumored to be, but a god!

"Awesome, dude! No one can question a god!"

"He’s different than us. He must be better!"

"He shall save me from me!"

They Who Need To Be Led gathered to hear the god-Man, a.k.a. the Man Who Needed No Water. No one could match him! He could cross deserts, had the endurance of twenty men and never needed to pee! Oh, to be like the god-Man and not be bound by earthly rules. This gave fresh hope to the sheeple trudging along in miserable reality.

"Expert textpert choking smokers,
Don't you think the joker laughs at you?"

All hushed as the god-Man began. “There are those among you who say we are all the same on the inside, that universal truths exist for all of us. But I say the only truths are the ones we make!” Wild applause for the new hero. "Don't believe defeatists who tell you nature is the only way. Forget the futurists who see no tomorrow on the road we follow. But embrace the enlightenment that life is as we wish!" Spontaneous cheering - laced with a certain anger -erupted in bitter delight. "To the doubters I say: How do you know what you know? What is the definition of 'know'? Who is anyone to say what absolute reality is? Today, I bring you a new reality and black is no longer just black and white is no longer only white."

The leader’s words fed a need and a hunger in the sheeple for hope, for they were on a hopeless path. Their own unworthy thoughts told them to find a different path, that they were going the wrong way, and such thoughts tormented them in eternal agony. Mercifully, this Man of Superior Thoughts came to show them the error of their ways. Yet, doubters remained and the only way to resolve the truth was by invoking the holy crucible to purge all lies: a Silly Argument.

Silly Men stood on a stage in front of the gasping crowd. It was a Momentous Occasion, for these mental giants would cull truth from the miasmic cloud of illusion, enthralling the watching throng as a magician with his Magic Hat.

The Conspiracist charged first. "You are lying and I have the proof!"

"Show me your proof and I’ll show you my ass!"

"You must take us for fools! Everyone needs water! You cannot survive without it!"

“Poppycock! Love is completely optional! What are you, a biologist? Explain to me just exactly how I quote unquote need water.”

"Well…uh…your body, you know, it just has to have it. I don't have to prove it, everyone knows it."

"But you just said you had proof! Was it only in your mind? If you can’t explain it then it must not be true!" taunted god-Man.

"Dammit, I know I’m right! I just know it…" But the Conspiracist was defeated into silence– only to be replaced by yet another.

"I, sir, am a biologist. This I can tell you: Your body is made up of mostly of water. Approximately 85% of your brain, 80% of your blood and 70% of your muscle is water. Every cell in your body needs water to live. That, sir, is reality."

"No, sir, that is your reality. I tether myself to no reality of yours!"

"It’s the reality of all of us! There are no exceptions!"

"You’re just making up facts to suit yourself, painting me with your own limitations. In a word: you’re a loser! Looo-ser!"

"I’m not a loser! I’m a highly respected biologist! I know what I’m talking about."

But for a Man Who Knew What He Was Talking About – to be the one who spoke truly – how then was he losing the debate? Every eye in the crowd was on the accused loser, questioning him, doubting him. Even he started to question himself. "Look, it’s true. We all need water!” His voice was draining confidence, searching the audience. "You know I’m right. Right?" But cries of 'How do you know?' and 'Fraud!' were gaining momentum , shouting down the biologist who stepped on their dreams. Man-God was happy.

“No one can stand before my truth! Forget the reality you think you know and follow the words I give you! Dream your dreams, there is no reality but the one you make.” It was then he collapsed on stage, dying of dehydration. Curiously, many of god-Man’s most fervent followers felt a sense of relief.

"Elementary penguin singing Hare Krishna,
Man, you should have seen them kicking Edgar Alan Poe."

"Why, fraud-Man? Why did you do it? All our dreams are crushed now!"

"Mine too!" bemoaned fraud-Man. "But I had to do it. I just don’t believe I can get the water I need. So I chose to believe I didn’t need any. That way I could live."

There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth as fraud-Man died. Ugly, sober reality returned with a vengeance to the wretched sheeple. What hope had they now, forever trapped by the iron grip of their needs? God had placed them in a hopeless existence and farted on them daily.

But through the heavy air came a voice – a new voice, a true voice, the voice of a leader! "That man was a fraud! His only goal to mislead foolish and lost souls, hiding himself in the shadows of your own self-deceptions. He tried to build himself up instead of building others up. Do you hear what I’m saying?" The grateful sheep bahhh-ed in approval. The New Great This-Time-For-Real Leader continued: "Do not be misled again-“ – cries of 'Hell No!' and 'Never again!' ached him – "- for truly I tell you: it is I who needs no water. I am the god-Man, Goo-Goo, Goo Joob!"

Then the sheeple followed him off a cliff.

"I know thee well: a serviceable villain,
As duteous to the vices of thy mistress
As badness would desire."

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