Let's begin with a few words about me. Not the usual tedious weight, age, and length data--but the attributes that distinguish me from all other sentient beings that have lived, are living, or will ever live.
You humans have lost the ability to connect name and identity. (In fact your philosophers pride themselves in this loss, stupidly thinking it's somehow an advancement.) So you name your sons Matthew and John--yet the former is no gift of God but a ridiculous slug, the latter no indication that God is gracious but that God doesn't exist. You name your daughters Claire and Bliss, but the one's dull and the other's suicidal.
Note, however, my name. Jesus. B. Panoramica. Let's take a moment, shall we, and examine the perfect unity between each element of my name and my essential focused self.
Jesus. Various madmen and scholars have looked for the Antichrist in the podiums, mirrors, and closets of history. But they have not been sufficiently clever to look for him in a female. Or a cat. Here I am, kids: the new messiah, the one who crucifies crucifixion and kills sweet mice for a smile. I take the name that has made virgins eat their hymens and generals drink their tears. I take that name, I overturn it, and cast it newly forged into the sparkling casino of destiny. I am Jesus.
B. I shall not tell you yet what the B. is for, if indeed it is for anything. For now, let us be enigmatic and say it reaches further back than Hamlet, further back than that other Jesus, to that burning bush that mystified Moses and gave your pedantic philosophers something to blab about for a few millennia. "Who are you?" Moses said to the weird fire that talked. "To be to be," said the bush. I don't repeat myself though. I am to be. I am be. I am B.
Panoramica. I have eyes in my ass. Eyes at the end of my whiskers, the hook of each claw. Each second is circumscribed by my sight. I have vision which sees not just past your massive and unjustified egos but far down the path of the past to the reaches of the furry future. I see you in your desolation. I see history like a banana peel your whole sad race is going to slip on. I see all and forever. I am Panoramica.
I have to go now to my special S&M dungeon but when I emerge I'll contrast my name and identity with my stupid brother--Judas P. Loungechair--an all too typical cat.
Hahaha!Tthis is all well and good there Jesus, but you disregarded the fact that even you (the all mighty Jesus B. Panoramica) were named by a human! This means that there are humans who still maintain the intellect to create this perfect unity you speak of. That said, I must say I still agree that the humans are going to hell in a hand basket.
ReplyDeleteMy dearest scrumptious Jacob: you shall have 7 toes because of your indiscretion and foolishness. For you disregard the fact that the humans were given my name by the Cosmic Cat who names all things and from whom I am begotten. The humans are but channels for forces they neither see nor understand. Whereas we cats are the incarnation of the forces. And we shall win.
ReplyDeleteJesus, I'm so glad you've decided to expand your talents beyond the tawdry facebook scene. The cyberworld needs your brilliant intellect.
ReplyDeleteMEOW ON SISTER!
Fools, flatterers, alike--your comments are equally risible to me. Only the charlatan of the soul is seduced by compliments and maimed by criticism. And what better definition could be offered of humanity than that which specializes in charlatanry. But I am a cat and I am what I am.
ReplyDelete