"Once is Nonce"
1) It was sometime ago that I found myself become enamored by subjects of a spiritual or esoteric nature. As a seeker, and a youth, I had neither the access of social connection, nor financial resources of the kind that open such doors. My interest, like most, began with stumbling across popular fortean and spectacular subjects such as fortune telling, Ouija boards, UFO sightings, and the sort of mysticism which movies were made of in the eighties.
As a kid with an insatiable curiosity, and virtually no access to any form of unusual education, I filled my notebooks and journals with any sort of odd or unusual references that I could find in popular culture. Comic books, movies, television, musical lyrics, novels -- all of the typical media targets evangelized by the Cult of Satanic Christians (Otherwise, the Satanic Panic) of the 80s and 90s -- became a source of preliminary clues, finding in them names of authors, titles of forbidden books and subject matter, and eventually, these led to the discovery of entire bibliographies of ancient mythology, classic literature, metaphysical philosophies, moral philosophy, entire universes of mysticism explored and categorized in explicit detail by ancient geniuses over thousands of years.
It was not until the Internet entered the average middle class household during the late 90s that I was able to find those rare and hitherto impossible to source texts and manuscripts which I had only ever found referenced in footnotes and bibliographies, lovingly transcribed by those fortunate academics and researchers with a mind to make more accessible these once secret manuscripts, whose contents could only be assumed accurately interpreted by those lucky few.
Many extraordinary digitization projects provided (and still provide) once impossible public access to manuscripts, texts, images, documents, commentary, translations, interpretations, and even artificial intelligence technological resources -- an historic treasure of truly magical proportions and a remarkably impossible to conceive of vastness -- especially beyond the imaginations of the greatest of mystics, the most wealthiest of emperors, the most genius of thinkers, insightful philosophers, masterful librarians, passionate artists, celebrated storytellers, the most curious collectors of artifacts, keepers of ancient secrets, and the most extraordinary of scientists -- so incredibly fortunate I am to live in this age and time.
I have at my fingertips, at any moment of everyday, a universe of information, education, entertainment, history, the exponentially growing research in every school of human artistic or scientific inquiry -- questions, answers, inquiry, exploration, fantasy, imagination, emotion and expression -- so much that I find that I am awe struck, and humiliated by the tragedy of my own personal mortality, which makes it impossible for me to ever enjoy the magnitude of human discovery and experience -- which itself certainly is an infinitely minuscule quanta of all that is in the vastness of the universe.
2) One could consider that all of human knowledge, all of human contemplation, all of human experience, from the first intelligent sentence (FN) uttered by one sentient being to another sentient being capable of comprehending the message shared by it's companion,
(FN: which was, I hope, incredibly fucking hilarious. The fact is, it may have been a simple shooing away of an unsimilar being nearby, which happened to have been in the way of harm, which, lets face it, is kind of nice, but no better than yelling at a stray dog to get the fuck out of the road before a vehicle runs it down, and similarly, not necessarily of any comedic value. Some people find any outcome of that scenario potentially, comedic, no matter the outcome ... at least as a writing prompt. I prefer less bloody humour, like, laughing at the near-miss, shaking a little with adrenaline and a short, grateful "Whoo-Ha!, That was Close!!!", instead of, "Ha Ha Ha, Muthafucka !!! See that fucking dog EXPLODE back there!!!? Fuck that was AWESOME!!!")
to the final meaningful communication received by the last sentient being ever to understand the last thing ever uttered by the second-last sentient being in the universe (FN)
(FN: Again, I hope that it is the most hilariously genius comedic joke which sums up the horrible finality of all that is, was, or will ever be, since, that which receives the joke would need at least a few moments to "get it", which, lets face it, may be as vast in it's entendre as all which had come before it ... or at least a poop joke. There's nothing better than a well timed poo joke. I just kind of hope that the universe's last sentient audience is capable of comprehending the meaningfulness of that last comedic opportunity, as it is up to them to decide upon whether the punchline bombed, or end all sentience with a fit of convulsive incontenant paroxy.)
The universe itself, as a living and dying thing, is tragic, but, in many ways, hilarious. Why shouldn't the audience whose attendance at their demise laugh itself out of existence? That one emotive gesture, from horrible realization to fully expressed appreciation of whatever punchline is reached, why not be accompanied by that emotive force by which all sentient be snuffed out? Nothing was before there was something. Nothing will be at the end of everything. Nothing will be remembered, perceived, or considered after all that contemplates meaning, sense, or purpose is gone. It might as well have wondered at, and shared with another aware thing within range of a signal, sentence, broadcast, image, sign, symbol, or series of 1s and 0s be entertained by some silliness or another, so as to get along and build a final endearing moment of social comradery. It may not be the end of all that actually is, but if it is the end of that which observes, experiences, or makes sense of whatever is, then why should it not go out with a good guffaw? Dylan Thomas would be proud of the last mind to share a joke, I'd think. Joyce might be proud of the last being to ever "get" a joke, and hopefully have enough time to get a giggle out of it before expiring. And if it was a poop joke, since many discorporating beings can manage little more than defecation on being relieved of life, then I suppose we may fancy that funny enough.(FN)
(FN: The last time the author realized that the moment at hand was upon him, he thought, "Well, I guess it's happening now. Fuck. I had really hoped it would be while fucking. What is the song that is on right now? Shitty deal. It's not even all that good. Sigh. Okay. Stay aware. Watch it come. Hold on to the moment. Here it is ... Here it IS !!! Concentrate !!! Awareness !!! READY FOR IT !!!! Fuck. Still alive. Okay, get your insurance and registration out. Can you feel your toes? Good. Can you actually move them? Good. You're still here. FUCK!!! This is going to be expensive.")
3) Mocking One's Serious Nonsense
(Poem from,"Raised by Wolves, A Dull Knife Story", by Robert Leigh Angus)
Nothing BELOW. Nothing ABOVE.
Nothing BEHIND. Nothing BEFORE.
Nothing ASIDE. Nothing AFTER.
No YOKE, no SPUR, no WHIP.
No CHAINS of LOSS, nor GAIN.
No FEAR, no REWARD, no OATHS.
No HEAVEN, no HELL, no EARTH.
Nothing Promised, Nothing Claimed.
Truths are False. Obscured by Comedy.
Laughter Profits in Justice. Comedy Justifies Profit.
Hilarity in violence. Humour in commerce.
Knowing, Daring, Willfulness, Silence. Chortle.
Define. Decide. Discipline. Demonstrate.Guffaw.
Spirit. Element. Body. Thought. Cackle.
Reason, Act, Persist, Reflect.Giggle.
Seeker, Apprentice, Journeyman, Master,Comedian.
Know your goal, Dare to take action, Overcome Anxiety.
Persist by Adaptation, Practice Secretly. Entertain.
Plan, Execute, Adjust, Improve, Bomb.
Naught raised to Ought. LAUGH!
Genius Determines Persistant Results.
Everything in Nothing.
From Nothing, everything.
Oceans rise, Mountains fall.
Wind breathes. Fire consumes.
From Nothing, All. From All, nothing.
Life is brief. Death eternal.
From Nothing manifest. To Nothing returned.
Oblivion before. Oblivion after.
There is no difference.
Everything is funny to somebody.
Nothing true. Everything false.
The Punchline makes this so.
Nothing sacred. Everything permitted.
Nothing divine. Everything possible.
Silliness strengthens weakness.
Parody weakens strength.
Within, Laugh. Without, Laugh.
Relate. Surprise. Have Fun.
4) "Please, delete my Porn for me when I die."
Not to hide my sins, nor my perversions, but because, like the graves of the ancients whose burials were accompanied by symbolic or actual gifts meant to survive with them into whatever incarnation which may follow this, whether in spirit, or in fact.
All whom entertain themselves with fantasies of a luxurious existence following death, dream away that most precious of certainties, a limited period of time, our awareness of which is followed only by certain oblivion.
I enjoy no such delusions, today. Though I will admit that I have, and may again. It's a fun little game, I suspect. I tend to play with an atheistic attitude in how I approach my remaining days, though anyone reading this who has penetrated past this token fancy (FN)
(FN: which acts as a symbolic parentheses, noting, perhaps, this infinitesimally miniscule, meaningless, and beautiful experience)
will also note that I am deeply fascinated by all things human, especially intellectual constructs -- Religion, Philosophy, Custom, Art, Law, Contract, Currency, Language, Mathematics, Symbolism, Technology, etc. -- I am constantly in awe (FN). Inspired.
(FN: Blown Away, is a better term. These constructs used to tame and domesticate the wild and evil animal that is HUMAN-KIND, and yet is intended to make mankind subject to reason, and rationality with interest to equality and fairness)
I am overwhelmingly enthralled by the vastness of the human capacity for perceiving Selflessness and selfishness as symbolized moral constructs -- light and dark, high and low, true and false, good and bad, mean and kind, cacophany and harmony, simple and complex, extreme or concise -- ad infinitum et ad infinitesum.
If Blaise Pascal were as proficient a gambler as he was a mathematician, one might reasonably bet that he may have spent his lifetime delighting in amassing vast debts to the house, and beggaring repayment of vigorish by way of moral philosophy.
If there is no harm in filling eternity with an orgiastic bacchanalia of one's own making, celebrating pleasures and perversions once only reserved by deified sovereigns worshipped as gods amongst mortals.
5) History has evidenced that Human Genius is memorialized beyond mortal means through communication by oral tradition, engraved stone, embossed mud, hand inked sheets, inked wood printing, inked metal printing, wax recording, magnetic recording, electrostatic printing, Electric Ones and Zeros.
Impermanence is vulnerability.
TBC?