TERMINATION
I think I will be satisfied when my Nature dies:
the end of all things - being small comfort to the
lovelorn the lost and the lonely - will find me
happy enough. I'll be riding my Christmas morning
hobby horse, so to speak, as if again eight years old.
-
And what shall I call you, jackel? The salacious drooler,
the Father of Evil and the brother of death? We had a
fellow like that once in my troop - he was hacked to
death by butterflies and swans - after we'd decided
that was the best way to deal with him. Take him out
so strangely, in a paradox of means and moment.
-
There's no merit in the chantings of grace and the
the singsong delivery of every old religion and creed
which once pushed the world along. Those were vastly
different times - before philosophy, before meaning,
and shutters and doors and automobiles. Nothing
before us, it would so seem now, can really make
any sense. So then, to you I whisper this newer
tune : The God who made us was but a hologram
of intentional future and a determined past.
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