I know my writing isn't a favorite among the collective, but I figured I'd give this another try. Opinions are welcome, and if you tell me this sucks major ass- there is absolutely no way I'll run off crying. 
System failure: abort
Every leader had a fabulous hatred for followers, and the best leaders have a hatred that is sometimes fanatical. In fact, it may be fair to say that the more successful a leader- the more disdain they hold towards their lemmings. At first this may seem like a contradiction, or even an attempt to put hypocrisy in a virtuous light. "How can you want followers when you hate them so much? What are you- a villain writing a manifesto? Hate is sooooo uncool!" Silly, you're missing the point. And do I have one? Ask the writer of that independent newspaper you read.
Because not all inquiry's can be answered with witty retorts related to the anti-drone-drone phenomena. Not all revelations can be twisted into counterculture jams. (needless clarification: jamming the counterculture, not being a jammer of the counterculture) Only the inquiry's containing blatant stupidity can be given such treatment. The rest are deserving of more fluorescent rebuttals. In other words, if you think that "the best leaders have the most disdain for their followers" is a contradictory (and not in a zen awareness type way) statement, I'll probably tell you to go watch some Ralph Nader tapes.
In other news, this is not a rant about shepherds and sheep and where the lines blur and if the lines exist in the first place or any of that recycled acidexian rhetoric. This is a rant about reality and how/why we should disconnect from it. The opening paragraph was merely icing on the cake, which was now been licked off by the shepherds of propaganda.
"But you always talk about disconnecting from reality," you say. "Even more than you talk about The Invisible Line!" Maybe so, dear descendant, but there's something that you should know.
This time I've really gone over the edge.
Maybe it took me a while, all those ego deletions and bike accidents and encounters with demons named Jonathan Taylor Thomas, but I now think it's fair (what is fair? do i care? what is is? what is fizz?") to say that I've finally signed off the computer of sanity. I was almost there for quite some time, but I still hadn't let go completely. I was still under the impression that my impressions of the over/under collectives were collecting themselves as anti-blanket statements of picnic panties. I failed to see the obvious: that there was nothing to see. (obviously) I failed to see that I was blind.
So what did I do? I opened my eyes, of course. All 3 of them! And now I was so blind that I'd gained my sight back! Now I was so blind that I'd cured my own blindness- transmorphing myself into a doctor of my own reality. A scientist! A kook, one might say, because I was seen talking to myself on the bus last night.
I digress. The leaders have no disdain for their followers. The leaders invented disdain for their followers.
But seriously, why do you eat grass when you can grass the eatery? Why to you light bulbs when you can bulb the lightening? Disconnect, my peons. Disconnect. I hate you so much that I'm willing to show you the dwarf. I hate you so much that I'm willing to show you the mermaids. I'd utterly love to, in fact. Polka dotted stripes!
Yet mermaids have no souls, did you hear? They smoke bowls. They have wings. They wear rings. They have hearts of gold and behold! A snail horse! A cat human! A dog robot! A dragon robot monkey girl! Genetic alterations start 20 new nations! I read that book!
And who cares how many people got the reference inside the reference inside the reference (this is not my boom stick) or what "fair" means or what "mean" means or the mean of the norm of the standard average typical antitypical antidisestablishment "top 10 buzzwords related to 23 fuzzturds or your money back guaranteed" game.
Fuzz= shmuzz
Fizz= fazz
And now the mermaids come back!
Ok, fine. Reality disconnection is like watching a movie about your life and realizing that you directed it when you were shopping at Wal-Mart. Reality disconnection is like getting away with murder because you killed reality when it wasn't looking. Silly reality: look harder next time.
I am God.
Ok, fine. Reality disconnection is like killing murder because you're starting a new life and the shoppers at Wal-Mart are no longer objects of resentment or even pity, but objects of rhymes about objections to rhyme schemes. Extremes. Bipolar bears? Not for sale. Just because you directed your life when you were shopping at Wal-Mart is no reason for you to return it. After all, returning your life to Wal-Mart will result in denial of everything you've ever stood for. Sit down, mermaid, you don't even have a receipt!
Ok, fine. I am God, and so are you. It's true, false fractal fuckers. Forget forging fascism (fnord) and find folks who will watch wobbling wildebeests wear water suits. At least you were directing while the other shoppers were acting. (or even more abominable: watching!) Don't feel ashamed of your past, of your "I wasn't really over the edge" old skool blast. Look at yourself now, Oh Disconnecter of Hector the Hectoricist. You're freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
And then you abort the system. It's another step, yep, so don't be afraid to climb it.
System failure: abort.
Because the system wasn't working to begin with. Disconnecting from the internet (reality) is one thing, but turning off the entire computer is another. Not only are you in your own little universe, but you've left the universe.
Some think that disconnecting from reality is a bad decision, and that aborting the system is an even worse one. Those people should Go Quote Kerouac. (it's much kewler than asking Alice)
The system is composed of anything definitive, anything absolute, anything that gives borders and boundaries to anything and everything. While "system failure: abort" is a great motto for the new batch of techno hippies, it's also a great way to free yourself from your own definitions of freedom.
Hanging out with mermaids is one thing, but leaving the ocean entirely is another. Altering alteration is one thing, but leaving your alteration is...
Is dancing! Is flying! Is isn'ting! Is the computer without the programming. A reality composed of 6 legged donkey gods is still a program. Tell the donkey gods that they ain't shit. Throw popcorn at them.
Yes. People will ask you what drugs you're on, Oh Disconnected One, and if this honestly bothers you- well- I'm not even gonna touch that one. Might as well declare that Fred Durst has no actual talent.
Leave yourself. Don't just leave the system- leave your system.
And be a leader like I tell you to. |
