Ain't blowin' in the wind. The ans-wer ain't blowin' in the wind...
From Time Immortal, Man has sought answers to so many things: why does a star fall, and a birdie putt doesn't? Where does the wind, not rectally-generated, come from? Why do some women change their minds more often than the number of pairs of shoes they have in the closet? Why is female butt size a no-win question that they insist on asking? Why doesn't God infect dishonest politicians with painful rectal itch when they fatuously vote pander?
Of course, there has always been that Answer that eluded so many of us for so long: the answer to seminal questions like what are we, and why are we what we are, or think we are, or say we are, or are we something other than what we think and/or say we are?
For without the Answer, all the other questions plague us: why is there war? Why is there hate? Why is there bias? Lies? Deception? Poor? Greed? Doubt? Unhappiness? Sauer kraut? Lust?
Okay, so when I see a picture of Kate Beckinsale, I can answer that last one, but I digress.
I have lived a little over 50 years. In that time, I have learned many things. Or have I? And I know that there are many things I have yet to learn. Or is it that I already know them instinctively? And I know that there are many things I have pondered without knowing. Or have I known them, subconsciously, all along?
All I am sure I know is, for 50 years my eyes could see, yet I was blind. And then all at once, 30 minutes forever changed my life. I still need to upgrade my prescription glasses, but the rest has become so incredibly crystal clear to me now. It was 30 minutes that will forever alter my view of Life, Death, Love, Taxes and hot fudge wrestling.
I am here to now share with you, my friends, that super nova-like revelation.
First, all the things I learned in school as a youth I now think I know are deceptions, lies, stereotypes and false dilemmas, like tastes great vs less filling. And the great debate -- paper or plastic -- is all an MSN Chris Matthews-shaped opinion poll, mixed with crystal meth during his ersatz coffee breaks.
There are not aliens among us: WE ARE ALL DESCENDED FROM ALIEN SOUL SPERM. Alien soul sperm filled with angst. And as such, we have lost our way. Probably our curds, too, though I think some live in Iraq and that neighborhood, if you're wondering where they are. But I digress again.
Not so many human-measured years ago, a great prophet purportedly came forth among us, and revealed a vision to a chosen few. Then he --through books and the precursors to paid infomercials -- sent forth his Message for all to receive*. He revealed a vision dating back buku million years, to a time when there were then mighty masters of the Earth, yet today are little more than fossils, gas, propane, heating oil, and would make some pretty bodacious suitcases and other fancy sh** if they were still around to be rendered into it, like their alligator kin are.
For they gave way to a New Order, thanks to Australopithicus-generated global warming. And it was He -- the aforementioned contemporary visionary -- who distilled from celestial chaff what our origins in the Great Equation were.
He told of an evil Alien, Lawrd Xanadu**, who set about depopulating his galactic empire by shipping to our celestial orb lesser cretined rake-offs and factory seconds. They wound up in volcanic rendering ponds, from which their charred and sauteed spirits emerged, only to be sent to re-education camps, which filled their minds full of things that were deemed harmful by Lawrd Xantax**, and which sully and burden our souls to this very day, preventing for the majority of us a life of bliss, perpetual peace, and having us all act like Ben Stein in a Visine commercial.
More or less.
At any rate, within the bounds of his biological lifetime, he sought to spread His Word amongst the populace. And well after his demise, his disciples continue to spread The Word amongst the populace. For a fee.
And with each level of secrets revealed, a little more fee in perpetuity. A secret that is, in essence, progressive, outcome-based educational dumbed downedness that helps adjust the body cretin levels of paying true believers to where He says they oughta be. Which makes you happier. Happier to pay more fees as you become more and more dumbed down and dependent.
I sense an ACORN vote registration strategy here.
One afternoon after a 30 minute DVD viewing, it was all spelled out for me -- *TOING* -- and I am forever changed.
Such a revelation is unjust to be kept from you, my reading audience, even if you're not paying readers. For some secrets should not be shared only for fiscal renumeration, rank heresy as this particular group likes to groupthink. So I simply must now share with you, my friends and other readers who might be non-friends, the secret that I have come now to understand at long, long last. An understanding that has taken so long to come to, after all the years of spiritually, emotionally, fiscally and flatulently flailing around in a life with no definitive purpose or direction, since I was too cheap to buy a GPS or Tom-Tom system.
The secret, my friends, is not exactly what you're thinking. Yes, I know that this Word and these indoctrinations of a dead science fiction writer with alleged Michael Jackson tendencies, are little more than a cult masquerading as a religion for the purpose of making money by duping new members and maintaining the dupe over old ones, all under the guise of religious tax-exempt status.
I am not here to reveal the obvious.
No....I am here to reveal to you the real secret I learned this day: NIGERIAN 419 EMAIL SCAMMERS ARE SCIENTOLOGISTS. What's more: GLOBAL WARMING/CARBON OFFSET SCAMMERS ARE AS WELL SCIENTOLOGISTS.
It's all in the commonality of crackpot stories and scam theories, disseminated to the naive and gullible, for money. It is all so perfectly clear. How could I have missed it, all these long years?
Thank you, South Park, and all the John and Jane Smiths who wrote, engineered, produced and directed this revelation!
And I must agree with L. Rod Hubbub's reincarnated animation, Stan Marsh: Tom Cruise isn't quite as good as the Napolean Dynamite actor; but the animated Cruise did okay in the South Park episode.
* for a fee..always, for a fee
** or whoever the frack it was; probably a close cousin of silly-puddy complexioned Hugo Chavez