With Everything… Turn… Turn… Turn…

Posted: January 5, 2014 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , ,

Happy freaking New Year, everyone!  It’s been awhile since I ranted and raved, but then again—it’s hard to find a well of creativity when you’re shell shocked at the end of every day.  However, now that the Christmas Chaos is all but over, I’ve had a chance to reflect on my lack of creativity and attention.  Moreover, having been exposed to all manners of human egocentrism (beyond what I see in the mirror every day), I decided to explode the concept.

Knuckle up, bitches, you’re about to get smacked with enough existential awesome to make you go full nihilist.

I'm about to intentionally mindfuck.

Seriously. Go get a drink. Reality’s about to warp.

The human desire for self-importance has always fascinated me, especially since I’m such a shameless narcissist. However, let’s put some spin on this.  What is a human being—in a biological sense?  We’re a collective of trillions of individual cells, each alive in their own sense. You’re not one, but many as one.  On top of that, you’re host to billions more organisms that aren’t even a part of the system—but live on/in you anyway.  You’re like a walking planet—so even if you’re a blubbering grab bag of genetic party favors—you’re still the world to a whole lot of shit you can’t even feel wriggling their lives away.

Not that you’d want to.

Face itching yet?  Just imagine what's living in your ass.

Every time I’m in the mood for genocide, I swab my face with rubbing alcohol. I only wish I could hear their screams.

Feeling good about yourself with that itty bitty crash course in microbiology?  Feeling more like a world unto yourself?  Well you shouldn’t.  Your national-debt-sized collective is one of several billion such collectives on the surface of the planet.  Technology and accomplishments aside, the whole of humanity seems kind of a big thing.

… until you realize that from a bio-mass standpoint, ants have us beat like a red headed stepchild.  Not to mention, they’re hungry and developing resistance to pesticides.

Better hope they don’t develop resistance to boots.

Notice how humans are lumped in with that little sliver for "mammals"

Even beaten by worms. Just remember that the next time you see the fantastic motorized landwhales at Wal-Mart.

Anyway, how’s that inflated sense of self-importance working for you?  If you were dreading that “but wait, there’s more” moment, hold on to your ass.  Not only are we the minority here, we’re a short lived one.  We all know life’s short, some shorter than others.  Since we’re going on a planetary scale, all of humanity has existed for a laughable fraction of the time the planet’s been here.  We’re talking ~200,000 years of shameless self-aggrandizement on the dingleberry end of 2.5+ billion years.  If you think you did anything worth a damn, that’s like pissing in the ocean and saying you made the motherfucker noticeably warmer.

Even makes your fails seem meaningless, doesn’t it?

Perspective done right.

How small do you feel right about now? Hint: not small enough.

I could pop this and go full galactic, to supercluster, then universe, then really go ridonculous with multiverse—but I feel like turning this bitch on its side before violating your think-jelly with it.  Yeah, we’ve juxtaposed big and small, long and short (yes, humanity is naught but a cosmic dick joke)—but that’s the “normal” order of things, right?

How can we define what’s normal?  We are apparently sentient collectives existing at the spinning, rocky bottom of a gas-filled gravity well that’s whizzing around an open fusion reactor that will eventually torch us in ways that will make Tsar Bomba look like a defective flashbulb.  Our definitions of permanence/importance, on a cosmic scale, are akin to a fruitfly’s concept of longevity.  Thank you, Douglas Adams, for the unique perspective.

Eat your heart out, Kanye.  No matter how big you think you’ve made it, you’re not even a fart in a hurricane.

Unplug.

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