Saturday, March 20, 2010

More Poop

Can We All Agree that the World is Poop?

"Absolution and a frozen room are the dreams of men below."

- Ministry, Burning Inside

I was going to launch into another brilliantly unfunny diatribe against Bush today, when I realized something.
The world is poop, why be angry with a specific portion of the poop?
The Buddhists, in my limited knowledge of Buddhism, believe that all is one: when you see a tree or a shoehorn, they are also a part of you – all matter in the universe. You, good man or woman, are just energy slowed to a walking, running, driving boil.
With this in mind, let's call all matter in the universe poop and go from there.
Why poop? Why not?
Some might say "hell," but hell is driven and focused on a certain goal to make you suffer. Now, the world, by and large is unspecific in who suffers and who rides a Hummer to Mars with a Pepsi endorsement.
But, on the other hand, the nonspecific threat of poop is much worse than hell in the way that even those that are successful can fall into sufferings such as guilt, obesity, and drug addled paranoia.
Trust me, I know.
So, one could call this world of poop hell. With this in mind we can all agree on religion – we must've all fucked up rather rotten and we are living out some religious persecution for our sins.
Therefore, we can now all agree on religion, dumbing down the poop factor to 50% poop.
Now, we have no problems in the Middle East. We shall now construct a Zeppelin that we shall fly from Gay Marriage and Abortion debates in the West to Allah vs. Torah debates in the Middle East. Our Zeppelin will be equipped with a great bullhorn that scrambles radio and television broadcasts declaring "Lay down your arms, look around you! You are in poop-hell! There is no right or wrong religion, we're all damned to poop!"
Problem solved.
Next, we take our Zeppelin across the world to take care of territorial disputes. "Lay down your arms, you have been fighting over poop!"
More problems solved. Now we're down to the 25% of detritus that is the core of poop: traffic jams, shitty TV, annoying coworkers, etc.
Woe to thee, oh Earth and Sea, for the Devil sends the Beast with wrath.
Whether that is a quote from the Bible or an Iron Maiden song, it sticks in the throat. And it should be said that the beast arrived sometime after we advanced far enough that we had periods in a day with nothing to do.
Here came the armies of industry with Big Macs and Starbucks, telemarketing and pop songs, tabloids and Jerry Springer.
Could it be that we gave up hard work in exchange for....poop?
I would rather have a conversation with someone about how the crops are doing and whether we will need to reap early than hear about how much money I can make by selling Party Lite candles.
I would trust the verse and chords of a man who plays guitar to entertain his family for free than a man who does it for millions of dollars as he sings about the woes of the common man.
What we need to get rid of the rest of the poop is to get back to work, build communities that work –
Good lord.
Look at the words I just wrote!
More poop.
This poop problem is a lot more diabolical than I thought. It seems, I, the creator of the poop theory has just found himself knee deep in his own poop.
But, others have traveled those steps and came out right?
Yes, Moses, a man who helped uplift a people...for awhile. He found himself not only covered in the stuff, but eating it to stay alive in the desert.
There's nothing like bat shit in the desert to clear a man's mind and help him focus on poop. Moses needed it, it got his groove back and he was able to bring us the commandments that turned society from barbarism to.... more controlled barbarism.
Damn, there's no way around it.
There may not be a way to fight the poop, maybe I have been forsaken?
Oh, Father, I implore you, deliver us from this poop so that we may not have to pay insurance on our limbs, bust out laughing at funerals for no reason, and shave our genitalia.
But, I digress. There's no place in prayer for genitalia and only a heretic would insert such a word there.
I guess the Good Lord never intended us to know about our genitalia until something awkward happened and then to feel shame about it. It may be that this world of sex and violence is only a vice as it is being presented to us as an out of reach monkey's paw that should never be admitted, thus making the blood and lust all the more –
More poop.
Let's start again.
Four score and seven years ago, a kindly man walked into a bar and asked for a Harvey Wallbanger.
There we are. That's a good way to start anything. They should put that sentence at the top of credit card bills. I would pay them more promptly and with a broader smile.
But, we were talking about poop and how even the best at heart (myself) cannot avoid running off the mouth in sick drooling flames of pure fecal matter that cannot be controlled as I'm only regurgitating the ideas and thoughts of man since way back. We need alien influence to fight the poop!
I say we scour Mars (check out the pics of the gigantic worms there) and find the truth! It could be that our creators are there, hiding from us in the sands and deserts, universally embarrassed at the huge turd they dropped in the form of DNA they prodded with a three prong electronic turkey baster.
They could be plotting our demise as I write this.
The worms will rise! Wasn't it said that Earth will be destroyed by Star Wormwood?
Or, will they let us live on as a planetary Jerry Springer show that they watch on TVs so advanced that they exist in the mucus extracted from the pores of the young worm saplings.
Maybe they change channels by slapping their oversized genitalia together and orgasming with each commercial break.
But, we're back to talking about genitalia and God never liked a dingus or woo-woo and good Christians know this.
So, where were we? 25% of the poop is left. But, now with the last few paragraphs we're up to 35%.
The poop machine must be stopped! But, lo, I still have nearly fifteen minutes left of my lunch.
This just in: more poop.
Maybe we could sell the poop? There must be an alien race that lives off poop besides us?
Yes, we could sell the poop to inhabitants of that newly discovered planetoid. They might need it; thrive on it.
And with the proceeds from this poop we can find new ways to route the poop, or continue to produce it while buying some true happiness and stability from the Mars worms?
Life's like that: endless possibilities for any man full of poop.
So, don't vote, don't go to church, and for God's sakes don't mention genitalia in prayer: because, where we are all poop, there is not reason to throw it at each other like monkeys in a shit house.
Yes, that's it, we're all monkeys in a shit house. If you leave me with nothing, please take that piece of wisdom with you and throw it at your neighbor.

Seymour Glass

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