Tuesday, August 10, 2004

Living on the Diagonal

God is great. God is magnificent.

About 6000 years ago, while enjoying Her three martini breakfast She decided to build a prison.

By lunchtime, She knew it was a stupid idea. But still, frugal with Her materials, She persisted. She drank a couple of bottles of the best Chianti She could conjure up, and smoked the best grass Jesus was saving for the crucifixion day. She found Herself in a chintzy gown, good mood, and ready to think out of the box. She scoured Her pantry and found this little creature on a dusty forgotten shelf, a biped creature with bandy legs that had a brain bigger than its breaches. And She said "Ah-ha" or may be She said "kun-faya-kun," and there it was, a prison teeming with humans.

She saw to it that every copy had a custom made cell of its own. For kicks, She made sure that the cell was not wide enough to lay down fully stretched and the ceiling was not high enough to stand tall. She saw them hunched and in pain. She saw them clawing to break through the walls, the floor, the ceiling. She saw them suffering and angry. And She thought to Herself, "I need to put more thought in this experiment." Not too shy about borrowing, She thought She could learn a thing or two from Goebbels or the 21st century media gurus to make humans believe they were actually happy being miserable. She said "Ah-ha," as lightening struck Egypt that implanted the idea of God in their big brains. She invented rapture. She sold the idea of living fully stretched on the diagonal to every man, woman, and child. Now they labor day and night to compute square root of (x*x+y*y+z*z) and defy gravity. The psychiatrists have a name for the condition when the captive falls in love with the captor (how cute). But who cares, as long as my captor is bigger and better than yours!

She was happy now. She had a sea of champagne for dinner and snorted the best cocaine that Mary was saving to handle the pain of virgin birth. And She shouted with joy, "I am the father, the mother, the son, and never shall the treys surpass my creative self ever again."

5 comments:

Neutral Radiance said...

You must tread carefully, my son ... lest you remember your future. Creativity can be quite humbling.

Humbly yours,

Mom

Anonymous said...

hahahahah...Neutral Radiance, you said it all. i cant stop laughing at your remarks to the article! (which was quite creative in its own right)

Anonymous said...

You are afraid of life?

----You are afraid of life?
But life is who you are, and life is who I am!
You are afraid of mankind?
But man is who you are, and man is who I am!
Man is language, man is expression,
but you are not afraid of that!
With the iron-bond of Word and Understanding, man is inextricably tied
With humanity's loins, life is inseparably tied
But you are not afraid of that!
Truth is you are afraid of the "unsaid"
The time that has yet to come are you afraid of it
Are you afraid to acknowledge the imminence of it!

---- Many periods of history have passed by before:
of freedom's remoteness, of godhood that is "self-less".
Even then you believe that it's useless to aspire,
that this night of suffocation is to Providence submission!
But what would you know,
that when lips fail to move, hands arise to life.
Hands arise to life to show to the way that is right,
as the expressions of light.
Hands cry out, yelling the end of the night.


some translated work of Noon Meem Rashid's poem "zindagi sat dartey ho"

Vincent said...

these narrations are an attempt to curtain the pesificst manifestations of a not so dry dream - goodwork; bravo!

Anonymous said...

Nonsense....The work of a sick fuck... and while we are at it, keep off Jesus