Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Vol. 190: Excerpt from Rough Draft of GIDDEOM

Spread the Outrage. Spread the Truth.

An excerpt from the forthcoming novel, GIDDEOM. 

The lightning flash of resilience is at times remarkable as the storm clouds gather and roll across the plains. There are faint murmurs of the stirring but nothing more obvious than birds chirping and small squirrels scurrying from tree limb to tree trunk and back again.  Unlike their human neighbors, they can see it coming. They can hear the echo of its’ tremendous force. They find reason and purpose in their actions.
It has been forecasted, spoken about in Internet and overly priced cafes and on their television sets with good looking tan-skinned and well-manicured hosts with plunging necklines equivalent to their intelligence quotient. To the viewers at home or stuck in the airport waiting holding pattern however, the ticker at the bottom of their screens is no consolation. Their retirement savings doesn’t hold them close and whisper everything is going to be all right. They can feel it, but they can’t see the noose that they are each holding, tightening around their necks.
Some of them know better than that and some should, but they go for a walk anyway. Nothing anymore surprises me. Although the fact that they walk upright may seem a miracle in and of itself. But you can tell that to Darwin and all of his followers as a big, “I told you so.”  
They can curse me all they want; but it takes a lot to bring a man to the point of wanting to kill another human being. Believe me, there are many factors along the way that help to push and prod him in the direction that ultimately alters two lives with a single act of disregard to decency and instead towards a full embrace of how shall I put it, human nature.
Say what you will about other animals, there is nothing so sinister, yet remarkably elegant in the fact that each person holds steady to the belief that they can control their own destiny; that with an act of repudiated violence towards another they may find joy and happiness in their absence, doing their best to mop up the blood afterwards. The explosion of forensics shows gives birth to confident voyeurs, naïve in believing that they won’t leave a trace.
I can understand that. In their opinion, I’m the ultimate voyeur. Where was I? That’s right, back to the task at my left hand; please forgive me. I’ll be the first to admit it; it is very difficult to multitask, and I’d admit, maybe that’s where I’ve gone wrong.
There may be the co-worker who continually pushes your buttons, or the momentary lapse of reason resulting in a desperate act of road rage, slamming your brakes as the smell of burnt rubber surrounds the vehicle and you, pulling the gun from the glove compartment; settling things once and for all.
Like a mystical weapon handed down from above, each finds their believed purpose in the blink of an eye. I see that you all try your best not to let the guilt of the act wash over and consume you.
            Cavemen would simply grab the nearest stone and raise their arms towards the heavens and bring it crashing down on a skull within reach, in defiance of all that has come since then. They have evolved to the point that the method they choose is just that; it is all a matter of their choosing. With the explosion of information found on the Internet, each of them has the tools and capability of performing the task of Cain. There is nowhere to hide from the click of a mouse.
            As a result of the progression of technology and the wide spread of information, wars between nations seem to be reaching their endpoint. Instead they have been replaced with acts of terror bound together by outdated ideologies grasping for straws of relevance in the ever changing world. This world’s natural resources dwindle and yet they continue to do nothing about it. Halls of power throughout the globe tug and pull in opposite directions, neither one capitulating to the other and in the process are equal conspirers of their own demise. Like the hole in the center of a table hidden underneath soiled cloth, with a vase placed unknowingly, oops, bringing it all down.
A mess has been made.  
            Articles are continually written about the downward slope of modern life. One day, museums will be built in the name of their murderers, owners of more wealth and control than their victims, but their history will place the mantle of victor atop their marble columned abjurations; monuments to their own stupidity. Selfishness rewarded with scholarly theories held forth by institutions of ivy colored walls, closed to those without the skills and money necessary to open their doors.
            I hear them. I hear their pleas, but I haven’t come to a decision yet.
            Why should I help them? What have they continually showed themselves to be other than hypocrites who only hold out hope for help when they need it most; but in days comforted by my everlasting grace neglect the simple fact that without me, none of them or this would be here at all?
            They have been seduced through their ignorance. The ineffectual ones and zeroes flashing behind a flickering screen of light that is held in place by plastic constructed by the shells of long dead life forms; an assembly line of free trade. Ones and zeroes, a line in the sand and a circle placed next to it; cross the line and you will find what you are looking for. Step into the circle and you will be lost in the endless loop of totality. Ones and zeroes, ones and zeroes are all that they are. All of life has sprung from the one wellspring of creation and that is all. From nothing comes everything; and from everything they will have nothing left.
            Then again, I haven’t made my mind up, yet. If you’re lucky or cursed, you can bet I’ll see you around.

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