The Slickening

zardoz - sean connery
Dude slipped on the vest over his freshly shaved shoulders and he felt the leather caress his smooth skin and a ripple went through his loins like a lion’s a gazelle. He pulled his chaps on over his bare legs, newly hairless after a soothing body swab session at Eye of the Tempest Skintorium. The black rawhide massaged his knees and thighs so tenderly that it had his limbs whistling sick Dixie. He eased his feet into his leather sandals, his toes twinkled in th eopen air and sent a tickle up his bones and into his face that set his mouth into a smile so wide and bright it was like a dungaree rainbow. He pulled his hair back into the pony tail it was born to be. Like a naked snake hanging from the back of his man head. He was the partiest party guy at the party.
He got so high he farted the sky.
And that’s how the universe came to be. The one featuring you and me and everything else. Fascinating stuff.
Is this the end? No. It’s the beginning…

From the Office of the Demiurge

gorgar-pinball-machine-1979-williamsHello, Office of the Demiurge. No, he’s not in right now. He’s out creating the world. This is his secretary. Is there anything I could help you with? That’s right. Uh huh. Well, what do you think? Of course he’s going to make sofas. And they’ll be good ones, very good ones. Like so much of his other furniture and trees and machines and landforms that he’s created. Yup. He’s gonna make those too. Yup, and in many, many different colours. Shapes as well, yes. Nope, he doesn’t give a crap about how they’ll make you feel. All he wants is for you to want one. And to know it’s there, exactly. What’s that? Nope. He disagrees that there may be some intangible connection between beings and their items. It’s all strictly about your material goods, ma’am. That’s right, strictly about the material world. Nope, he doesn’t think that’s shallow. And neither do I. Who gives a ladybug about your soul. Or even if you have one. Alternate plains of existence? Spirit worlds? Okay just calm down. Listen, my boss is out there eon in and eon out working his butt off making the world. Creating things. Tangible things, get it? Not some spiritual voodoo mumbo jumbo that doesn’t do anything or serve any purpose. A bucket has a function. Your aura does not. Hey, just you listen, he works hard to create actual stuff for you. For everyone. For the universe. So you can’t just sit here and tell me he’s missing the big picture. He painted the big picture and hung it on the wall. It’s real not just some frickin’ abstraction that you have to peer into via hokey prayers and cheesy meditations. Tangible. Concrete. Bona fide. Substantial. For real. Got it? It’s not hard to understand. Literally, knock on wood. See? Exactly. Now compare that to sitting there making monkeyman bowel movement noises with your mouth guiding your breath down into your non-existent soul hole. Again, exactly, I don’t know either. No one does. So stop being such a sobersides and get up and get out there and start living in that material world that was so thoughtfully created for you. Are we clear here? Uh huh, great then, good to hear. Is there anything else I can help you with? No? Well. Thanks for calling. Have a nice day. B’bye.