Biodegredation.
Watching the animated version of "The Hobbit", and identifying heavily with Gollum.
I've had two separate instances of watching the severed heads of insects flexing their antennae and mandibles frantically in the last two weeks. The first was while I was at work and discovered a giant centipede crawling over the baseboards in the parking lot lobby. I crushed it's back sections, sticking it to the wall. Then, trying to disable it quickly, I took out my razor and severed it's head from it's body. This act didn't have the desired effect. The head seemed to be trying to turn itself over with it's antennae. It's mandibles opened and shut, perhaps reflexively. I watched it for several minutes. Wondering if it was aware of what was happening, or just replaying it's instinctive instructions.
HEAD REMOVED: RUN CASE 0
RUN CASE 0
RUN CASE 0
RUN CASE 0
RUN CASE 0
STACK DUMP IC1693670254673
I picked up the head with the razor and dropped it in the acid I use for cleaning the toilet bowls. It stopped moving immediately.
The next time was a wasp that got into the apartment. (Which has been happening often, I've killed 2, beheaded 1 so far) I hit it with my notebook to knock it out of the air, and then smashed it again and it's head fell off. I could see the little silver thread of nerve fiber sticking out of the chitin shell. The head flexed it's sliding mandibles at me and waggled it's antennae in a vaguely insulting motion. "Argh! I'll get you! GRRRRR!" the head seemed to me to be saying. In it's compound eyes the wasp saw my head approach, growing to fill it's entire field of vision. Then my fist with an outstretched middle finger loomed in compound mosaic before it. After that I put the head and the body on a steel plate, with the head facing the body, and set the body on fire with my cigarette lighter. The head registered no specific reaction to seeing it's former body immolated thus, so I brought it's perplexity to an end by putting out my cigarette on it.
I have no mercy for insects. They'd as quickly kill anything as anything, they are like machines. No thoughts, only reactions.
That being said, I can't say that the same rationale allows me much mercy for humans either.
I've been thinking of society as an unpleasant holding pattern for tribes of humans to sustain us in between bouts of glorious total war. War, when we can unleash our true sentiments for one another. What if love is the aberration? Kindness and compassion turn out to be the mutant deviation, whereas brutality is the norm for all life otherwise. Or at least indifferent self-interest?
Becoming shambolic and paranoid here alone. Confusticate and bebother self and all things and all else and everything. It's summer outside my fetid apartment, people are out in the sun enjoying themselves, I imagine. [In fact I'm certain] But I don't care, I hate the sun.
I miss Sarah so much that...
Insect. Like an insect. Reactions to stimuli, states of mind that turn on a dime. Even if I totally lost the volition to care about anything my drugneed would still pull me through dose to dose. As I do now except clothed with the pretentions of job, girl, rent, and other trivial sundries. And thoughts would still pass over my brain, like the shadows of clouds upon the earth, but with no memory. And so no meaning. Apart from the meanings of immediate importance.
Isn't everyone else having a fucking great time in the fucking sunshine?! Fucking away like happy little cokehead rabbits in between rounds of drinks and games of football in the sunny, shiny, happy sunshine? Isn't there some way that I can get in on this?
Well, yes, but your capacity to appreciate participating in such pastoral scenes is mostly atrophied. I mean, even if you did, it wouldn't mean anything to you. You're what's known as a Moral Degenerate. In order to satisfy you, deeper, more deviant pleasures must be found. These are best unfolded in private, shared with no one for reasons of prudence.
I've had two separate instances of watching the severed heads of insects flexing their antennae and mandibles frantically in the last two weeks. The first was while I was at work and discovered a giant centipede crawling over the baseboards in the parking lot lobby. I crushed it's back sections, sticking it to the wall. Then, trying to disable it quickly, I took out my razor and severed it's head from it's body. This act didn't have the desired effect. The head seemed to be trying to turn itself over with it's antennae. It's mandibles opened and shut, perhaps reflexively. I watched it for several minutes. Wondering if it was aware of what was happening, or just replaying it's instinctive instructions.
HEAD REMOVED: RUN CASE 0
RUN CASE 0
RUN CASE 0
RUN CASE 0
RUN CASE 0
STACK DUMP IC1693670254673
I picked up the head with the razor and dropped it in the acid I use for cleaning the toilet bowls. It stopped moving immediately.
The next time was a wasp that got into the apartment. (Which has been happening often, I've killed 2, beheaded 1 so far) I hit it with my notebook to knock it out of the air, and then smashed it again and it's head fell off. I could see the little silver thread of nerve fiber sticking out of the chitin shell. The head flexed it's sliding mandibles at me and waggled it's antennae in a vaguely insulting motion. "Argh! I'll get you! GRRRRR!" the head seemed to me to be saying. In it's compound eyes the wasp saw my head approach, growing to fill it's entire field of vision. Then my fist with an outstretched middle finger loomed in compound mosaic before it. After that I put the head and the body on a steel plate, with the head facing the body, and set the body on fire with my cigarette lighter. The head registered no specific reaction to seeing it's former body immolated thus, so I brought it's perplexity to an end by putting out my cigarette on it.
I have no mercy for insects. They'd as quickly kill anything as anything, they are like machines. No thoughts, only reactions.
That being said, I can't say that the same rationale allows me much mercy for humans either.
I've been thinking of society as an unpleasant holding pattern for tribes of humans to sustain us in between bouts of glorious total war. War, when we can unleash our true sentiments for one another. What if love is the aberration? Kindness and compassion turn out to be the mutant deviation, whereas brutality is the norm for all life otherwise. Or at least indifferent self-interest?
Becoming shambolic and paranoid here alone. Confusticate and bebother self and all things and all else and everything. It's summer outside my fetid apartment, people are out in the sun enjoying themselves, I imagine. [In fact I'm certain] But I don't care, I hate the sun.
I miss Sarah so much that...
Insect. Like an insect. Reactions to stimuli, states of mind that turn on a dime. Even if I totally lost the volition to care about anything my drugneed would still pull me through dose to dose. As I do now except clothed with the pretentions of job, girl, rent, and other trivial sundries. And thoughts would still pass over my brain, like the shadows of clouds upon the earth, but with no memory. And so no meaning. Apart from the meanings of immediate importance.
Isn't everyone else having a fucking great time in the fucking sunshine?! Fucking away like happy little cokehead rabbits in between rounds of drinks and games of football in the sunny, shiny, happy sunshine? Isn't there some way that I can get in on this?
Well, yes, but your capacity to appreciate participating in such pastoral scenes is mostly atrophied. I mean, even if you did, it wouldn't mean anything to you. You're what's known as a Moral Degenerate. In order to satisfy you, deeper, more deviant pleasures must be found. These are best unfolded in private, shared with no one for reasons of prudence.