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Who the fuck knows? I suppose subscribing is better than submitting, but isn’t it all just a matter of degree? Whereas some wags suggest that matter might more properly be considered equal to energy, despite several thousand years of recorded history suggesting energy nearly always bullies matter into submission… Where was I?
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I suspect that FOMO is entirely made up by the same supply-side plantation economists who refuse to answer the simplest of existential trick questions. For the most part, during my ludicrous lifetime, some of the greatest events I missed involved destruction and death, not necessarily in that order, because that’s The American Way, isn’t it?
Far too many people worry about the future, or living in the moment, two things that bore me to flatulence. I have the worst flatulence on the planet, nearly 200% methane. One of my farts is worse than the combined belches of thousands of starving Bundy Ranch cattle. Of course, worrying about the past is called Critical Race Theory, and we can’t have that.
We have no future. Anyone with the rudimentary critical thinking skills of developmentally disabled mycellium recognizes humans chose cheese over immortality tens of thousands of years ago. If humanity ever had a catch phrase, it was and still is this: “What’s in it for me?”
If we are ever to find a way forward and advance this imaginary species to the next level in what will inevitably end up being some kind of patriotic first person shooter, we are finally going to have to address our sordid past and fix it. It is broken. It has been broken for more than 15 million years, despite the fact that many of our friends and family still refuse to fart on elevators, because they have been convinced by The Bible that it is a sign of barbarianism.
Not that I give any more of a fuck than anyone else on this dying planet. I know what’s really important, and you’ll never hear about it from me. You also won’t see me trying to find some place better to die than right here, defiling these digital equivalent of cave walls, particularly now that nearly all the actual cave walls have become NFTs traded by capitalists, representative democracies, union pension funds, People’s Republics, oligarchs, Popes, the irrationally exuberant, and viewers of day-time programming.
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Is this the Final Frontier? Do my PanAm miles count? Beats the hell out of me, and it’s probably destined to beat the hell out of you and your terribly foreshortened bloodline as well. We are all equally fucked, and I don’t mean that in the good way.
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