What is your point?

What do you mean?

Why do you happen to be?

Your purpose as a human being? Not just a job or a calling or a career or an idea. Your overall purpose in a timeline encompassing all of human history? If the species you are born into lives any longer than you do, what will they do? How will they live?

How will our species go extinct, like any of billions of other species. Not just individual DNA, heritable traits, behavioral episodes that can be syndicated rerun shows. What will they think of our music tastes, our hairstyles, our fashion plates.

Will pillars of carved limestone hype Yeezus or will the Cult of Madonna reign?

Will we be looked upon as a time of shame? Is this the slavery of our grandchildren’s day? Is there yet another war of our world to come and wipe us off it? Maybe the flood. There’ve been asteroids and climate changes, we didn’t die yet but give it time. 

A film strip, a living crystal, towering into the future. What are the fissures between us, the shear lines, the mineral inclusions? Why are we arguing about such trivial things? Why are there no sufficient medical advances that can keep us from killing ourselves? Why do we still apply lethal force to prove a point? 

Are we not yet evolved to move objects with our minds? Create the world we want to live in, instead of destroying the one we’re still living in, still just surviving, every one of us. What do any of the titles matter, who do the categories serve?

I don’t know much in comparison to what there is to know, but I know some stuff you don’t. You know some stuff I don’t. Let’s trade in experiential gold. Are we here to reach each other or to get away from each other? Are we just reaping fields of friends? 

We don’t know how we got this way, or what we’re here to do. All our words are fictions, but they’re real like tools. A tool is a representation of its activity; how do you do? So let it be written, so let it be done. 


Encoded Message

If you’re reading this set your decoder to green 385-2219 electric soliloquy commenced in futility dimensions of insanity filing papers hastily retreating in amazement frequently. Undermine your own disaster. Commandeer the ship you’re after. Lined up for the next encounter. Warning shot under the starboard brow to the eternal dreadnought firing fingers of furious fox tails impaled in the fox hole castle of Lee press on nails, bear up on hind legs, intensify my experience spray the eyes with irritants and squander the inheritance of your ancestral elegance, the seafaring God-fearing cloak wearing uncaring monsters we used to speak of with reverence. Raiders of every so called new continent, rapacious and radical shepherds of human cattle, conquered the calm peaceful indigenous chattel who fought hard and died long as a monument to every last battle.

Why are we slaughtering every damn thing we see growing up the chickens and ducks the eggs aren’t enough we need all your stuff and the beak too, speaking of coked up the Mount Rushmore vanity bluff erosion will clean up sooner or later, love what’s up will come down son, calm down the sun is just one of those tiny pixels of light and we think it’s so bright, but to everyone else it’s just a another little star twinkling on a clear night. What’s the chance of the weather man being right? About half of the time. Remember that when your family dies, and all your convenient lies wither on the vine. What will you do when your knees go too and your friends don’t even recognize you

The end will come for everyone,
ready or not,
can’t hide, can’t run
can’t buy or fight
your way out of this one
just remember
to make it better
all you have to do is try