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Sure, sure, a talking pig. That’s great. I get it. Not bad for beginners. How about a scorpion magician? A unicorn that can play the piano? Also not bad. What I have here will amaze you even further. A tarantula accordion squeezing through the eye of a needle. A blooming spike-plant needing a Godzilla costume before it can uproot and destroy the Kwik-E-Marts of suburban America. A forked, frozen lightning strike that’s cool to the touch and able to fit inside the fins of a fish. I have a dishonorable nuclear discharge waiting to play tag.
We are the dirty dishes of this planet and now we want to play god. Bacteria is the answer. Bacteria and viruses. If we are to create life, we must create it in our own image, just like that other guy did a long time. We are a disease on this planet. We are consuming it with no thought of the future. We are bacteria and viruses. I repeat, if we are to create life, we must create it in our own image.
I have done that. Soon, there will be a sick wind arcing down from the hang-glider rooftop where I’m standing, holding two uncorked test tubes of salvation wafting final solutions in the airstreams from my outstretched arms.
Soon, human lungs will have trouble functioning. Then they will bleed. Then they will stop. It’s contagious by sex, by touching, by air. I believe I have achieved a hundred per cent transmission capability. There might a handful that are immune but I can live with that. Earth will have thousands of years to heal.
I know the Earth does not have the means to thank me. I am a suicide healer. A bomber about to give life by bringing about Shiva’s gift of surrender. I can rest easy knowing that while the Earth lacks the capability to be grateful, it will be made better by our absence.
I have thrown the switch. The part of the galaxy is about to go quiet. If visitors come to find us, pursuing the distant echoes of our transmissions, they will find silence. Earth will once again become a place of humid, stable ecosystems. The animals will mutate and there will be no one around to tell them that they are mutations.
I am kissing the Earth goodbye as a greeting and as a parting gift. I have painted the words “You’re Welcome” on the roof I’m standing on because I didn’t know what else to do. The building will outlast my body but hopefully not by too long.
Eat the cities, plants. Run riot, mold. Invade, animals. These are your homes now.
tags
We are the dirty dishes of this planet and now we want to play god. Bacteria is the answer. Bacteria and viruses. If we are to create life, we must create it in our own image, just like that other guy did a long time. We are a disease on this planet. We are consuming it with no thought of the future. We are bacteria and viruses. I repeat, if we are to create life, we must create it in our own image.
I have done that. Soon, there will be a sick wind arcing down from the hang-glider rooftop where I’m standing, holding two uncorked test tubes of salvation wafting final solutions in the airstreams from my outstretched arms.
Soon, human lungs will have trouble functioning. Then they will bleed. Then they will stop. It’s contagious by sex, by touching, by air. I believe I have achieved a hundred per cent transmission capability. There might a handful that are immune but I can live with that. Earth will have thousands of years to heal.
I know the Earth does not have the means to thank me. I am a suicide healer. A bomber about to give life by bringing about Shiva’s gift of surrender. I can rest easy knowing that while the Earth lacks the capability to be grateful, it will be made better by our absence.
I have thrown the switch. The part of the galaxy is about to go quiet. If visitors come to find us, pursuing the distant echoes of our transmissions, they will find silence. Earth will once again become a place of humid, stable ecosystems. The animals will mutate and there will be no one around to tell them that they are mutations.
I am kissing the Earth goodbye as a greeting and as a parting gift. I have painted the words “You’re Welcome” on the roof I’m standing on because I didn’t know what else to do. The building will outlast my body but hopefully not by too long.
Eat the cities, plants. Run riot, mold. Invade, animals. These are your homes now.
tags