Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

The Oldest Enemy

burner-hottie-captain-hat

You look familiar.

“My brother shushed you at the Farewell Shoes.”

NEMESIS.

“I am not my brother’s keeper. I mean, I kept his hat, but I was speaking in a more metaphoric sense.”

Right, sorry. How is the captain?

“Successful in finance and romance, fulfilled both spiritually and sexually.”

Fuck him even harder, then.

“He’s an eye surgeon with Doctors Without Borders.”

Don’t care: fuck him. The man shushed Martin. Also me, but mostly Martin.

“I’ll pass along your enmity.”

Why isn’t he at Burning Man?

“He’s restoring the sight of orphans for free, while being shot at.”

It’s like you’re not hearing me: he shushed us. If I had thrown him off the mezzanine, I would have been within my rights according to custom. What are you drinking?

“Ayagria.”

What’s that?

“Ayahuasca mixed with sangria.”

That sounds awful.

“There’s Gatorade in there, too.”

That’s better from an electrolyte’s point of view, but it can’t be good.

“Also a splash of Bacardi. After the first few sips, you can’t taste it. Only problem is the fruit slices keep clogging up the hose.”

Just shake it around. Does time exist?

“The past leaves scars, and the largest future is predictable.”

The future isn’t predictable.

“The largest one. On a grand scale, the future is calculable. This star explodes now, that galaxy crashes into the next then. Just math. Three-body problem, but with more bodies: that’s the universe, and all we are is particles; we crash into each other, and flash out of existence and back. We’ve got no vote in the grand scheme, you and I. Not even all of us put together. It’s humbling, but so are Russian novels.”

So, nothing really matters?

“Anyone can see.”

Nothing really matters?

“To me? No. But also: yes. To some, maybe. Others are on the fence. Many have not weighed in at all.”

Who is Buddha?

“Buddha is  the Buddha, and the Buddha is Buddha. All are Buddha; Buddha is all.”

Jesus?

“Jesus is Buddha.”

Elvis?

“Elvis is Buddha.”

Me?

“Eh.”

I like your spunk.

“Ew.”

You have a boyfriend, little lady?

“Ex.”

Nice. I’ve got $56 and a head that ain’t quite right.

“But we just got back together. He’s the Spirit of Young America.”

What?

rando-tripping-tie-dye

“GET AWAY FROM MY LADY, AND PLEASE GO BUY ME AND MY FRIENDS BEER.”

You’re the Spirit of Young America?

“GAZE UPON ME, OLD MAN!”

This bit is not worth all the mental trauma it puts me through.

3 Comments

  1. Grotesqueries on a Tim and Eric level!

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