The day has come. I
hereby denounce society and all of its rules, laws and truisms: no longer will
I play along. “Ah,” I can hear you say… “Ah,” invariably with a smug, tired
smile on your greasy, groomed face, happy with yourself for having a quick fix
& easy reply to this and not having to do some actual thinking… “Ah… you know
that, if you denounce society, you have to give it all up, don’t you? It’s only logical. If you don’t concede your
moral sovereignty to society in full,
you can’t have any of it. You have to
give up subsidies and benefits too, splint your own broken bones…” Oh yeah?
Well… nibble my knob, I say! Perhaps you didn’t understood what I was saying. I
said I denounced society in full! If
I stopped using its benefits, I would
succumb to its rules, the unsanitary ‘Put-out-or-get-out’ rule, whereas I said
I don’t play along anymore… you dig?
I have capitulated for
many years. I have been a good soldier, I have worked and loved and paid my taxes,
I have been kind to my masters, old people, children and whales, I have written
thick books and poems to loved ones, I have smiled at birthday parties, I have
pointed out the flaws of our ways and given worthy alternatives, I have
presented new ethics and a poetica… and nothing has made the slightest
difference to you. Those loved ones, they never wrote me back and spat on my
paintings; society has rejected, betrayed, scammed and denied me, and it has
made a mockery of its own farce of a delusional state. It chose to be blind and
deaf to its own reported wisdom. It is mentally mortally ill and I can no
longer see it ever making a recovery. Beliefs I once held high, are now shooting through the perpetual twilight
of my velvety room making a fart-like noise, a zooming deflating balloon in a
cartoon.
Despite all your big
shiny words about honour and grace, virtue and congeniality, you remain a bunch
of aggressive, moronic, hypocrite materialists, too dumb to see through the fog
of your own hallucinatory ideas about life, obsessed with your phoney social
status and the creation of offspring as if it’s a blessed event… Yes, your ‘bundles
o’ joy’, a-smiling on pink lace cushions, shot in soft focus photos, to be send
to grannies and cronies, and framed above the couch as hunting trophies… Yeah, those
shrieking, fecal-aromatic larvae of yours, they will only fill the shelves
with the next generation of dictators, war mongers, golfers and advertisers… to
form the perpetuum mobile of the
rat-filled trenches of the next Great War.
When Man gives birth, it gives birth to misery, cruelty and wretchedness. Spreading
horror over the land. You’re selling TVs to the blind and yet you dear to call me a cynic and deluded for not buying
into your mass fantasies, fables and nonsense. And what you don’t understand,
you like to call God. Thunder and pestilence, beauty and death. Oh Sinners
beware! Faith! There’s a party tonight at the Eclipse Inn… don’t forget to tip
your waitress.
So…
all bets are off. I will live by my own rules from now on. I will ruthlessly follow my own ideas of
right & wrong, religion and crime, and keep score myself. I will lie,
cheat, steal, plunder, pillage and rape. I will jaywalk, double dip my chip and
stare at your cleavage for an unseemly long time. Henceforth, I consider myself
relieved from all my duties. You have had your chance to keep me on board and
failed on all levels. In fact: you still have that chance, but I place the ball
in your court now. All you have to do is reply to my letters, stop being
arseholes and give me a worthy place in your midst. Just one of you… just one of you, to say something nice but once,
to me or any other human being… I’d like to see that day. Then, I will gladly
play along again… I will listen to your mindless babble, about paella, poodles,
street art and yoga. I will skilfully feign an interest and go coochie-coochie-goo over your monstrous prams
and gnome-filled gardens.
Thusly spoke Mehujael.
