You gotta laugh. What can you do but laugh? Don't you cry tonight, there's a heaven above you baybay. Check out the Space Mormons. The Galactic LDS. They're giving ECCO a run for its money. The Office of the Control of Coincidences concerning Earth is like, what? Who are these Space Mormons, they're not galactic, they're not even stellar, although they got ambitions, like I wanted my Free Republic of Metopia to be a nuclear power, for peace of mind. Some say that's taking the definition of home defense a little far, but those naysayers can burn in the nuclear fires I would start only if provoked, if I had nukes to withhold, which I don't.
The Space Mormons want the planet that was prophesized, or is it a whole system of planets, maybe a whole galaxy, so everyone can get one. I like to imagine that engineered utopia. That's not a metopia, that's a youtopia. But I gotta engineer for real, make your space ark, that's how you're getting there. And if you think you can stiff me, you better be sure I haven't sabotaged that ship for its three century trip. You be trippin. Bitches be triflin. But you're a version sexy mormon. Very hard to please. You can taste the bright lights but you won't get there for free, in the Space Jungle, welcome to the Space Jungle... and you, as a demographic, are famously polite and charming, even insane freakouts you do politely, you gotta laugh. It makes me laugh in particular, being an amateur investigative scholar of freakouts, it's amusing, even as it's tearing me apart lobe by lobe, the polite freakout I can never touch, an astral projection beckoning. It's your charms, they aren't lucky but everyone's after them.
Space Mormons... more than meets the eye. I wish I had a prophet who promised me a planet. Me personally. The bigger the Lie, the more likely it is to be believed, isn't that what they call "the" Big Lie? That's a lie so big it's worth believing in, like that story of Pi that was supposed to make me believe in God. If you waaahnit you gaaaaaahtit you just got to believe... believe in yourself, ah. See the key word is self. It was a good story though, that Life of Pi.
The bigger the Thetan, the deeper the quicksand, you know what I mean? Sometimes a cow's gotta die when it's too sacred to live. Hey, we all die, don't you cry, for any of these organisms, it'll be your turn soon enough. I got actuary tables if you want to know how you're gonna die. No? Okay, just thought it was polite to offer, as long as you're offering yourself as sacrifice, a holo-caust, every nerve burnt individually. Sometimes an ox gotta be gored, man. I've already killed my darlings. But I talk to em everyday in an unhealthy amount of seance sessions, nostalgia abuse benders. Keep em alive past bedtime, stay awake my beautiful eyes, show me some skin, the regions of the mind I wanna see, train my brain on that, who needs the peace corps? What's there to live for? Why do they keep disappearing?
The Space Mormons were successful in their interstellar journey, and we were all rooting for them, all the time, well I was anyway, I know I don't speak for y'all. But unfortunately, when they got to Vega they ran right into that Time Rift from Star Trek Discovery, and things got all four dimensional, and I had to trust my math, and you know what? It saved my butt. From that moment on, I worshipped math, I made geometry sacred but that didn't do it, so the little got mo' and mo'. I just keep trying to get a little better, said a little better than before. Just doing what all my friends and well-wishers wished for me, to get a little better, get well even, cause junksick is a drearily-sane forever war, you get what you pay for, forget about fighting more - huhah! Abso lutely nothin'. But some day I might want for nothing to be enough.