When Hector was fourty-two years old (which is the statistically arrived-at "new thirty"), he left his office, and the photocopier machine of his office, and went into the mountains. There, he found wet and cold and profound boredom. And he was ashamed. Where lieth spirit? For ten hours did he not weary of this bitching. But at last, his heart changed. In the rusty twilight, he went before the sun, and thus spake unto it:
"Thou great star - what would be thy happiness if thou hadst not those for whom thou shinest?"
After long silence, Hector again spake: "That was not a rhetorical question." But the sun didn't answer in any language Hector understood, most probably expressing that there is no answer to a meaningless question, and respecting Hector enough not to condescend. Hector thus left his mountain, actually crown land, and traveled back into his town. And at that time he entered a place of drinking, which is called the Pied Cow.
A bar-star wearing an "Israeli Defense Force" T-shirt hit upon a young girl as Hector stood in line, waiting to quench his thirst. Hector reflected upon this. Wavicles of light bounced back to him.
"Thou shalt have no other god before me," God said, in the language of the sun, then alighting foreign longitudes.
"How about after?" Hector asked, having overheard. God did not respond.
Tweakers tweaked.
"Willing emancipateth."
"Everything cackleth."
"Moles and clumsy dwarves."
"The spirit of gravity. In bygone times, it was nearly impossible not to invent something - there was room, for creativity, and bravery. The modern world rewards neither - no room, even on silicon chips. Change becomes harder, through overpopulation, density of connection - even the tyrants are fated to rule - the internet absorbs their schemes. Society is destined to become a sphere - we must ultimately succumb to the gravity of mediocrity, atrophied by limited options - the age of heroes is over. Real fairy creatures from Proxima Centauri are not what they appear to be. The laziest man is enlightened, he's shale oil at the bottom of the sea, and he sees you, but he's on a low vibration. These things take time -- the sea will boil when the sun burns the planet, it's a good time to be shale oil and see all this. He feels there may be a great grandmother to the twenty-fifth power somewhere in that sediment. Genetics embossed on chalk."
Thus spake Hector.
"Never have I found the woman by whom I should like to have children, unless that woman be eternity. For I love thee, oh eternity. The marriage ring of rings - the ring of the return."
"Life after death? I just hope there's cable."
Thus read Hector's epitaph.
No comments:
Post a Comment