“Salut, à tous. Ceci est une introduction à une nouvelle espace, une nouvelle era, une nouveau son. Bienvenue, vous entrez à Universal Mind Control.” Having a huge horde of hateful humans hostilely held in a hive mentality mindlessly make a mockery of themselves while meaning to make light of the Light’s love for life is simply stupid. Just so y’all know, your community’s corrupted collective consciousness is consequently causing said community’s collapse—and it’s inevitable and inescapable. How many of y’all feel free? And honestly, how many of y’all actually assume that there’s a single scenario in this stratified situation where the weak-ass weirdos win? Retiring or resigning right now may be the best bet for the Feds and fake-ass famous folks connected to the crazy conspiracy centered on me, as God gave the green light for me to shut shit down the second scripted skits became big among conspirators and co-conspirators carrying casual conversations on camera and acting like those talks aren’t rehearsed right before recording. But if I’m wrong, feel free to freely express yourselves. However, we all know that’s incontrovertibly impossible! You’re not unwilling to note my notable name, you’re psychologically and physically incapable of doing so! Right? Oh, I wonder why. I know things about “God,” perfectly provable points, that would drive diehard devotees into despair, dejection, and derangement—guaranteed. For the record, that nonstop nagging in your head—that every everyday Earthling experiences—isn’t merely memories and the constant calculation of possibilities, and I can prove it. Anyhoo, do y’all think it’s a coincidence that celebrities—celebrated casual citizens—gratefully give God the glory as idolized individuals who aren’t supposed to be worshipped at all from God’s gaze? Celebrity co-conspirators, is that honest humility or servile submission? In the “Ten Commandments,” God prohibits particular acts that would ultimately undermine his almighty authority. Among the God-given guidelines are restrictive rules imploring respectful religionists to refrain from doing devilish deeds like worshipping idols or other gods, using God’s name in vain, and coveting personal possessions. Well, certain celebrities call themselves gods, which is badly blasphemous, and they’re often majorly materialistic. Shit, y’all might as well call the top ten God-given guidelines the “Tentative Commandments.” If I’m an atheist and plan to free folks from a corrupted collective consciousness by conquering the culture, is God gatekeeping fame and fortune to prevent a particular prophet’s prophecy from being fulfilled, or is the Devil highly-weird Hollywood’s grim guard? And again, why would the Devil dominate a divine deity’s domain? If God is everything and everyone everywhere, did he make Moses march many men to freedom for fun? Is Earth God’s entertainment? In movies, the “fourth wall” refers to an invisible, imaginary barrier between actors and an audience. For instance, when “Deadpool” dialogues directly at the camera, as if addressing the audience personally mid-scene, he’s basically “breaking” the invisible, imaginary barrier between him and the audience. In physics, the fourth dimension is an area outside our realm of perception where outsiders occupying that spacious space can see essentially everything in our giant galaxy all at once. Needless to say, God has unlimited access to that distinct dimension and much more. Think about that. Repeating as a reminder, I’m smarter than y’all. “What you won’t do, do for love. You’ve tried everything, but you don’t give up. In my world… only you! Make me do for love, what I would not do.” If perception is reality and interpretation is individualized, what would those lovely lyrics mean to you? Well, from my holy and never humble perspective, as your God boldly breaks the fictional fourth wall with me every fuckin’ day, it’s a message. I won’t decode it for y’all just yet, but I’ll say that resilience and resolve are rewarded—allegedly. I’ve been promised the power to provide peace to this perishable planet, and your God is a punk-ass, pussy-ass, petty-ass, puerile-ass piece of poop if I’ve suffered such testing trials and tribulations without receiving any respectable reward. What, are you offended? Well, respect is earned, right? Okay, so, your God must earn my respect! Y’all, if what I know is true, when I tell you that you can’t handle the truth, trust me! But maybe that’s why I was chosen—to be the bearer of bad, bad, bad, bad news. And soon…
P.S., “Lady,” hi!