“You’re either with me or against me, hoe! You’re either with me or… wait! Win! Win, win, win, win! Fuck everything else! Win, win, win, win! These niggas ain’t shit! Win, win, win, win! Stop chasin’ that bitch! Win, win, win, win!” Before I begin bursting bubbles and exercising the engorged egos from empty-headed enemies of excellence who’re under the Creator’s control, I would like to sincerely send a rest in peace to Sir Patrick Stewart, who was one of my favorite actors. With his smooth skin, timeless talent, and vibrant vigor, Sir Patrick seemed destined to defy the dreadful downsides of aging—at least for a little longer. Which queues the query, why let anyone or anything tell you when it’s your “time to go?” Again, death doesn’t appeal to me. And y’all God got me fucked up if it thinks that it can tack a timer to my eternal existence. Fuck outta here! Anyhoo, Happy Halloween to all the witches, warlocks, and weirdos out there. Speaking of such sorcery and suspect behavior, I recently reminisced about the time I saw a cute chick with striking silver hair promoting a web series on “106 and Park,” and someone suspiciously named with an alliterative appellative from an expiring episodic entertainment show showed up to work with silver streaks shortly thereafter. Why? I actually addressed this allusively in a prior post. But I’m bringing it back up because I’m annoyed and alarmed by the “Breakfast Club” and its hosts. Still, for now, I digress. While I’m on the topic of returning to recent remarks, I’m sure that the lord-like level of sarcasm sprinkled throughout my wonderful writing in the previous post was far too advanced for the average anybody to comprehensively comprehend. So, in layman’s terms, if I were the Devil—diabolic and determined to delude every dupe desperate for a divine deity’s mercy and blessings—I would pretend to be a grace-giving, glory-greedy God, and patient, prayerful, positive people like Tabitha Brown would be my favorite, most favored and fortunate spokespeople. Because that’s masterful manipulation like a motherfucker. The deeply devoted dupes of a radical religious regime shouldn’t suspect that something suspicious is happening in a war-ridden, wildly wicked, wasteful, worsening world where a good-all-the-time God is always around to save both sinless and sinful souls from whatever horrible happenings are haunting them in the pitiful place where said God has complete control—despite death, destruction, and depression dominating all praying people’s lives. Right? That sarcasm is simple enough for the casual reader to catch. The Devil doesn’t discriminate against darkness or debauchery, so there are no sins to forgive. Why would “God” save sinful souls if said souls seek to sully or snuff out sinless ones? Couldn’t “God” prevent perpetuated problems in a pitiful place that he prefers to be peaceful if he shut down sinful souls? Did “God” introduce the idea of the Devil knowing that every everyday Earthling would eventually sin, just to keep the sweetest sinners as spokespeople—knowing that they’d grovel and be grateful for his grace? If God and the Devil are the same entity or formidable force, what would you do if I could perfectly prove it? Moving on, what’s the scariest situation you’ve ever experienced? I’ve seen some seriously spooky shit, and some stories I’ve already shared here. But in the spirit of friendly fun on this horrifying holiday, I went to a haunted house once when I was younger, and they had a dirty, dismembered corpse and loose limbs scattered around a dark room that wreaked of death and decay. Of course, I wasn’t even slightly scared, but I always wondered what they used to represent or replicate such a specific stench. It wasn’t like putrid poultry, funky fish, or bloody beef that was left out of the refrigerator—it was similar but definitely distinct and difficult to describe. That stinky scent was the most memorable part of the trip. I know what you’re thinking, “being mature and immensely intelligent must be boring.” But no, it’s not—it’s exciting and evolutionary. Why would I want to be like everybody else, especially if everybody’s stupid? Remember, if the “Matrix” is a restrictive, rule-based, rudely regulated system that’s deliberately designed to prevent progression or eliminate elevation and evolution by imposing oppressive opposition on gullible, God-fearing or generally good people who either believe that subverting their supreme ruler is the stupidest sin or simply can’t figure out how to free themselves, I’ve escaped that! Honestly, I wouldn’t recommend that the average anybody try to get past the greatly gruesome “gatekeepers” mentioned in the movie. And no, the “gatekeepers” ain’t fake-ass, foolish-ass famous folks! Like I said, life is mostly mental, and if escaping the painful psychological prison was easy, I wouldn’t be the only one outside the system. Think about it like this, if the “Matrix” is the mainstream, the other side is the underground. Where the mainstream is pretty, polished, performative, pretentious, and predictable, the underground is real, raw, revealing, and requires much more mental strength to overcome than the mainstream. Just think of the crude conditions that people outside the “Matrix” lived in, then try to imagine that as a state of mind. Again, small, simple stuff shatters people’s spirits all day, every day in the mainstream. Not only is escaping the “Matrix” typically a solo journey, but facing your fears and being stripped of superficiality are mandatory. But enough about how much smarter and stronger than y’all I am. Just let that serve as a reminder. Because soon…
Omniscience