Wednesday, October 18, 2006

I Am a Fucking Prophet

Whenever I contemplate my own existence, I hang my head in sorrow at the utter inequity of the universe. Why, I ask, should I be so awesome when my brethren are so wretched? What mandate of heaven decreed that I should live my life as a fucking genius when the steaming carcass of this tragedy called humanity struggles in ignorance? How can it be that I am gifted with vast and far-reaching psychic powers while the rest of you are barely sentient?

I must admit that these are the thoughts that have been plaguing me for some time now, which is why I've recently been putting off attempts to update any of my blogs. While I know that my posts are things of great marvel for you, I also recognize that the brilliance that shines through from them only serves to illustrate how you can never be as gifted as me. I cannot help but be brilliant. The pores of my skin ooze brilliance. Thus do I unwittingly rattle the sad bones of your collective misery into your faces.

I thought: no more! If the only way I can help to ease your suffering is by ceasing to amaze you with my blog posts then by all means I shall desist. And that I did. Until today.

The reason I broke my silence is an incident in the MRT this morning. The train ride started out much like most of my previous trips from Magallanes to Quezon City: I kicked a stupid old fart on the shin, punched a college coed's breast, and elbowed a pregnant woman's disgustingly swollen belly while on the mad dash towards a seat. As is my wont whenever I cannot escape being surrounded by lesser beings, I remained silent, finding comfort in my superior thoughts. Now when the train left the Guadalupe station, a couple of vapid yuppies beside me started yakking on about money. I ignored their sophomoric discussion until one of them spewed some cliched spiel.

"Money, pare," he said, "really can't buy you happiness."

"Idiota," I said, failing to control myself. "Money is the key to all happiness, boy. Problems disappear when you throw enough money at it. There is no amount of suffering that cannot be solved by money. Do you know of any wealthy man who truly despises his money? Verily, I say unto thee: whoever saith money cannot buy happiness is poor, bitter, and a fucking idiot."

Thundering silence filled the car. All faces were turned towards me. They had no words to describe it, yet they knew that they were in the presence of something... holy.

"Speak to us regarding women."

I didn't see whoever said that, but I felt compelled to answer. "Women," I said. "Of all things that have been put upon this earth, I am most glad that I am not a woman. A woman is a creature so arrogant that in her frailty she seeks to be called equal to man. Pleasant though some of them may be to the eye, their entire sex is nevertheless catalogued together with the very young, the very old, and the infirm: forsooth, the weak who, in the natural order of things, is cast as fodder to nourish those of us who are strong. Yet in our times the power of the strong is wasted caring for the weak. What does that make of the weak? Parasites. Verily, I say unto thee: women are vermin."

The train was filled with murmurs. A young man spoke:

"Rabbi," he said. "Speak to us regarding God."

"I've always believed in God," I answered. "Yet most of the time I suspect that I believe in God not because of genuine and profound faith but because believing otherwise would mean accepting that we are all royally screwed. And we're screwed enough now as it is. Whenever I think about God and all that power crackling in His fingers, I cannot help but feel angry. God is an underachiever it seems. Verily I say unto thee: I look around me and what I see tells me that I could do a better job than God."

I fell silent and I could hear people crying. Rabbi, someone whispered. Rabbi, someone sobbed. An old man spoke next:

"Teacher, speak to us regarding ignorance."

And I answered: "Ignorance is an affliction that most of you share. It is a curse that I have never touched. Being a fucking genius, I abhor ignorance and stupidity. It is an abomination to me. You may think that I should welcome the ignorance of my brethren since the more ignorant people there are on the face of the earth, the better the odds that I will make it to the top of the pecking order. I say think that and I shall forgive you your inferior logic. It is because of ignorance that most of you do not recognize me for my greatness. And this is why I speak to you. So that my words may shine light upon your darkness. Verily, I say unto thee: your ignorance is mine to vanquish."

Rabbi, they said, their minds aflame. Rabbi. Yet there were those who said something else, something they cannot speak but in a whisper.

I left the train with my thoughts troubled. As I made my way down the steps of the station, I was too distracted to kick the dirty young beggar away. I kept hearing what was whispered in that car. It meant I had to continue blogging. It was but a word, spoken so softly it gained the quality of a prayer:

Prophet.


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4 comments:

  1. Okay...
    Is it just me or is Squid's choice of hallucinogens getting more exotic?

    ReplyDelete
  2. Squid's choice of hallucinogens will rip your spleen out from your asshole and stuff it down your throat, wiseass. Welcome to my blog, by the way.

    ReplyDelete
  3. oh great prophet you have turned me into a believer! now take of your pants and let me suck your dick..

    ReplyDelete
  4. In case you're a good looking chick not older than 17 and not younger than 9:

    Hello there! I'm Squid! Wanna fuck?

    In case you're someone else:

    Fuck off.

    ReplyDelete