12.25.2008

On Stephen Hawking, and other overpaid gimps.

Wipe the scent of strange from your face
and fall into the ranks.
Acknowledge the fact that you're your own God--
accept the responsibility, the praise, the shame.
Life doesn't make you.
Millions of years have made Life.
You make yours whatever it may be.
Or you don't, and you write about it.

Perhaps the biggest farce of all
is the idea that Evolution and Heaven can coexist.
Creationism is a myth, but don't worry, kiddies--
there's a Happy Ending in the form of some Pearly Gates
with our long-gone loved ones waiting with wings and halos.
That's like saying the race had a finish line
but no gunshot to start it.
Give me a break.
Save it for a Saturday evening miniseries.

Reincarnation is your best bet to believe in.
The flow of energy, who can deny it?
Let's say you grow a set and finally push
your toe against the brass trigger you've come to hold dear.
That reaction produces heat, light, sound, kinetic energy.
Your carcass in the ground provides food for worms
and fertilizer for the daisies.
And maybe someone will change a thing or two.
Fluid. Motion. Sacred cycle of unholy nothingness.
Secular pleasures limited to your short lifespan.

You can't mess up the Grand Scheme of Things
too badly simply because you don't have enough time.
It's a beautiful thing, really.
We're built obsolete.
We're dying from the day we're born.

You can't step in the same river twice, but you can
contribute to the current
and the river never stops, not even with your death.
Get over it.
I am
and, like most things
the process is better than the outcome.

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