I been hearing' lots 'bout these alternative universes, the parallel trapezoids, the pompous rhombus, and what I got to say ain't all that mathematical--not that I 'against math, I just don't want it in a cereal bowl, know what I mean? The thing is that there's this wishy-washiness cavorting' 'round like it's something real when it ain't nothin' but nothin' wrapped in cellophane. You can see there ain't nothin' but then someone tell you somethin' and then you gotta hear. What's that mean, zactly? Ain't mean shit, you ask me.
But Bob Tewkenberry, my beloved wife's uncle, insists he's a physicist and knows things about things that don't exist unless you see 'em. Well, no shit there, I mean, you ain't seen a bigfoot how ya gonna believe there's a bigfoot? You ain't seen a deficit, how you gonna believe there's a deficit? You ain't seen a toe fungus, how you gonna believe there's a toe fungus? It's all marketing which is to say it's propaganda which is to say that it's information which is to say that it's knowledge which is to say that it's epistemological which is to say that it's horseshit. I know Foucault woulda believed me because I channelin' his thought right a moment ago before I burped and he was gone.
So now what I gonna do but wonder what would been if it hadn't been for a burp? I mean, who am I when I'm not channeling' Foucault? I'm just a guy with a greasy mustache wearing unwashed underwear. That make my thought illegitimate? I need to be important and certified and accredited to have any sense? If I'm an institutional sort, then yes. Fortunately, I ain't, so that's no problem at all. If you is then you can get your lawyer to file an injunction or maybe a motion for summary judgment. Not that I care cause I ain't going' to court no matter what you do. You an' your lawyers an' your judges, you can have a tea party for all I care. I'm gonna keep working' on my popsicle stick Statue of Liberty replica until I get it right. Been years now, but they keep putting generic brand cherry popsicles on sale so I'll keep at it.
I like popsicles. They taste good, they full of flavor, and they cheap to buy, even on my meager income. I don't get them fancy General Mills brands, I get the store brand stuff. The popsicle sticks is better anyway, more pliable, they bend good, just the way I need 'em. Can't get that damn Lady Liberty's face right, though. It's a damn fuckin' bitch, that face. I would blame the French, but it wouldn't exist without them.
I ain't one of them French haters like we got all over Merica. Nope. I love the French, especially Foucault. Camus, he was good, too. Sartre, though, I always felt he was an asshole. Wish it had been him who died in the car accident instead of Camus. Might seem a bit morbid and scary to read something' like that, but what do I care? They both dead now for a while. And Camus, he knew what was what that much more than Sartre. The difference 'tween the two was literary. That was thing with Camus, he understood that nuance could only be expressed through literature rather than straight up philosophy. I know he wrote essays, too, but it was his novels that really had punch. The Stranger? Come on, easily superior to Sartre's literature. No Exit? Please, that just makes me cry.
But I ain't no Francophile, I just wanna make that clear. I like the Germans, too. Hegel, Habermas, Husserl, Heiddeger, I like 'em all. I think it's because they're last names begin with the letter "H." Something says "I know things" when you get a German whose last name begins with "H." It's an odd thing, but it's true, sure as hell truer than parallel universes and or any sort of doppleganger. The only doubles there really are exist in theater or card games. I once had two pair and went all-in against an elderly bearded man from Alaska. He kicked my ass with a flush, the ornery fuck.
That's another reason I don't believe that there are any other universes. Is there a cause-and-effect relationship between the two? Of course not. There would have to be at least one other universe for there to be a cause-and-effect relationship and there simply isn't one. I know this because I haven't experienced it and neither have you. If you had then you'd be my friend.
We are hurtling now, toward the end. There is nothing to you but the wind. This is freedom. No, a locust. I found a frog in the sand. I ate it, drank some booze, felt myself come loose. Yes, I rhyme when I get scared. Now I'm not. This is disjointed. Because that's where we live. You think this means something'. Not my fault. You're the one projecting that onto what I write. Fuck you and your insights. I don't owe you. You're not my responsibility. I don't believe in ethics, but that doesn't mean they don't exist. Or does it?
That's the whole point and if you don't get it then what can I do to help you? Nothin'. There never was anything' other than what I could do. So ... screw you. Just bang your head, fill it full of lead, hug a shotgun, it's the best you can do, your weak, I don't follow you, if you listened then I would be your master.
But I'm not, am I? Cocksucking fuckers, you do what you want whenever you want. Do you listen to me? No. You believe in alternate realities. Fucking pieces of shit, I want to die all over you. If you could roam from reality to reality I would haunt you. But you can't so at least you're free of me following you. I'll be dead one day and where will you be? Following close behind. Then some jack hole will stumble on this blog and think, "Fuck, that guy was weird and, really, quite a prick." But I'll be dead so it won't matter to me. That fucker, whoever he or she may be, will be infected by my ideas and won't be able to escape. Then what? The evil of trapezoids and the confusion of rhombuses will possess them. That's what mathematics does. That's why I don't subscribe to mathematics. Tough shit if you do.
What I believe in is just that that isn't necessarily what would be if it could be. That's why I write what I do. If lobsters could talk then they would, but they don't which might just be a trick they're playing on me and you. Fucking lobsters. I'm glad we're netting them, eating them. Torture those fuckers. And the pigs and the chickens. I believe in animal holocausts. Why? Because human holocausts have fallen out of favor. I like to drive by chicken concentration camps and smell the shit and death. Then I go to McDonald's and eat McNuggets. Why? Because I like the taste of genocide. There's no possibility of parallel universes there. As far as I know. And what I know is not epistemologically sound and, therefore, completely realistic. Fuck epistemological universes.
Have you learned anything reading these sentences? If you have, then I apologize. If you haven't then you're welcome. And fuck you, just in case.
