2015-10-03 09:58:11 UTC
If some of my products weren't mutagenic I'd offer them to
HarperCollins instead of venting them here in outer space.
Anyway, I still feel guilty and in order to atone somewhat I am
offering this little story to help sort things out.
Once upon a time there was an old master who wanted to disappear from
this plane without leaving a bone behind. Before, he had been wondering
why his own former master had disappeared using some kind of "fire from
within", and why even his own mother spent the last decade of her
life trying to get everything in order, possibly so she could die,
which she from time to time expressed a desire for, with everyone
trying to tell her not to give up and that they loved her, instead of
just helping her to do as she wished.
As he grew older the old master considered the folly of his old self
and how he had been much like his father, an incurable lover of life
who always forgot to clean up after himself. Desolately he tried
finding ways to dispose of his body and belongings after his death that
would not inconvenience others or keep a memory of him around.
The thing is, to completely leave this plane of existence it was best
to leave no trace that could activate some karma that would later pull
him back. But try as he might he found no way to accomplish this
seemingly easy task.
Should he buy explosives so as to disperse his body in tiny fragments?
Even if he went to the most deserted place it would create a loud bang
and possibly deform much of the surroundings, leaving a trace for years.
And what if he would get caught and be mistaken for a terrorist? It
would be years before people stopped talking. Maybe dissolve in a large
bath of acid then? Kind of the same problem, where would the acid go
after it had dissolved the body? Maybe just let the body rot and let
flies eat it all away. But the bones would be left behind as a witness
and the flies would cause much consternation.
Ideally he would jump out of a plane and have something sublimate him
into a gaseous form on the way down, never reaching the surface but
being blown away in the four cardinal directions.
But how to time such involved procedures? If he made an appointment
with death he had to be present at a certain time and the thing he
inherited from his father which he loved most was his love of life and
the resistance against planning and order.
Yes, even in death he would defy the forces that would give everything
a defined place where it belonged so that things could no longer be
questioned as had been his mothers greatest wish. Little did she know
how to use death as an adviser for someone else, as we all have our
different predilections. Some people are satisfied with pointers
pointing to pointers in a great big circle with nothing being reducible
to a single grounding. Some are meant to fly or swim while others have
to remain in contact with the earth.
Without resorting to complex quantum mechanical explanations, a tool
which he didn't feel comfortable using anyway, he knew that sounds from
air blown through an open pipe sounded different from those coming from
a pipe of which the other end was closed. It was a matter of the waves
coming back and interfering with the ones still going towards the end.
He was more the escapist kind, and what the hell, if he needed to
distort quantum theory to get people to accept waves coming back from
the outer ends of the universe via timeless entanglement, so be it.
But he knew people would react badly to defining negatives this way,
and to using death as an adviser for his kind of theories. The kind of
people existing in this time frame thought they could have anti things
without having them bounce back from the walls, while anyone with a
little sense would understand it could be no other way.
In the end he gave up trying to convince people that everything was
connected with timeless feedback loops, even himself, after having
wasted many many years with oracles he could never pin down to
something understandable or actionable. Instead he felt foolish for
ever having believed in such folly.
For a short moment he thought he had found a group of people he once
had misjudged as being dry and rational, by finding out that it was
politics that had shaped them in this form. As he looked up their
history and found that they used to be involved with society, only to be
crushed under the weight of anti communism, he had hoped that he could
lift the mental ban he had placed them under during his study time.
But alas, even when they were still engaged, the logical positivists
already had this deadly attitude of denying metaphysics.
What to do? What to do? Years ago, he had found a young friend who
wanted to learn about computers, but before this guy would understand
enough to help him he would have to teach him for longer than he
himself would live, if he ever even succeeded in distracting him from
chasing girls for long enough.
He had seen a movie about an old master living with his student in a
beautiful mountainous place full of nature. There were large pools of
water everywhere and all the stones had been polished until they shone.
When the master died the student made a big fire and cremated him, just
as probably the master had cremated his own master at a time when he
didn't even know why, except that this was the time he paid it forward.
But such traditions didn't exist anymore so any hope he had in
disappearing without a trace was to wait until he could transform his
body into utility fog.
While he was keeping open one of the last land lines to the old ways
of the Internet, wondering about how many times his cells would still
divide before they would succumb to the effects of advanced glycation
end products, that modern doctors mistook for a rare in-treatable
disease, he was visited by a girl that thought the old ways were still
He knew such girls, in the old days he had dated one, and if not,
he had seen the battle between order and chaos, where surprisingly,
chaos took the side of love for life, in the relation between his
She thought his cries for company meant a desire for order and tried to
help in the best way she could, the only way she could.
But all the old master could do was to try and help her get rid of the
last vestiges she clung to, which she probably would interpret as
conflicting with her way of life, while in reality it would enable her
to finally fly.
"just make it worse, it'll bounce back from the other side"