THE GUIDE TO CRYPTIC HUMORISM
ELAN AMEN TARO
To commemorate the non attainability of the objective let us chant:
Oh existent, non-existent, god, goddess of information, nothingness, and everything. May you forever keep the stream of data flowing from the faraway land of qualia to the attainable nest of my couch, where I can continue to distill it for my own use.
Maybe that being replied with a quick smirk, a warm nod, and the impossibility of a response..
Or maybe that being replied with this:
A mush of cells once felt the urge to relinquish itself from the shame of identifying as a corpse. The mush declared itself as enlightened and soon after died, leaving only its words to exist where it had once decayed.
Now beings are free to call themselves whatever they want, and they call similar lumps cows, and butcher them for consumption of beef, which is most easily described as a hunk of fat. Not to confuse this hunk with the mush, or even the lumps for that matter, which each play their own distinct roles on the big chunk of dirt that they called earth.
The personal responsibility of this information burdened all with the relentless task of somehow finding a way to make sense of it. And slowly as time passed by, all that remained were the remnants of their feigned epiphanies. Ancestors of those beings had the resources of their past wisdom, and information increased. The meat was the means to the invisible.
Some believed that they would somehow join the great invisible information upon their transition into dirt, not knowing that they had already contributed all they would ever be able to. And so it was that this belief became a reality through faulty consensus. Floating on the tide of nowhere it lingered.
The cluttered environment of the afterlife soon found itself aware, and hungry for more blood. The decay of every cell posed no threat to its existence, and so this being blossomed the insidious notion of sacrifice. For only then would a mush appease it’s craving of immortality, as well as the desires of the god, who wanted nothing more than to feast. Scraping the soil off its bones it reassembled itself with disdain.
The tapestry of its structure came to organize the lives of the beef. They fought wars arguing how best to prepare themselves for harvest, all the while ignoring the simplicity of its desires. Variables extended endlessly, and so the god needn’t ever fear for the starvation of its livestock.
Perhaps a sun exploded, or an atom was split, or a disease transmitted, the results are identical. With no sustenance left, the god went into hibernation, and awaited its next awakening.
As it descended into a deep stasis it began to dream.
That dream occurs as follows.