Monday, April 25, 2005

“The Act of Killing an Animal” Part one by Undisclosed Person

“GOD TO PEOPLE: PREPARE TO MEET YOUR MAKER.” The shocking announcement that Almighty himself would be making an appearance on earth was slightly over shadowed in the tabloids by news of the unfortunate birth of Britney Spears' deformed baby.
The front page banner headlines now read, “SPEARS GIVES BABY HEAD, FIVE TIMES.” While the impending visit of the Lord was relegated to page three, beside a topless woman.
The news from God came as general earthly merriment had hit an all time low. People were getting tired of drinking, fucking and the new season of 24. Fads briefly filled the holes in existence. But these short lived distractions merely served to desensitise and dilute.
Sure skydiving was fun. For a while. But people wanted more. Skydive higher, faster, longer, getting married, naked, on fire, with machine guns, whilst fucking, singing, underwater, without a parachute, with a bigger parachute, in a car, with a fridge, giving birth, head butting, mind melding, from a balloon, from a plane, from a helicopter, from the space shuttle, from the International space station, from the moon, in a barrel. And then, no one was skydiving anymore.
Humanity had put hardcore decadence in a rocket ship and blasted it to planet overkill. And while some were being slapped in the face by tsunami and lets be honest, loving the interruption, others were not so fortunate. Questions formed in their minds. The type of questions that were hard to answer.
So instead of “did she just shake her tic tacs at me?” it was “why am I here to witness the shaking of the tic tacs? And what exactly is me? What exactly is important?” Though the minty mouth suppositories remained popular, frustration became the new sauce that coated the prawn cocktail of the mind.
Blame had to be assigned for the lack of answers and the resulting irritation. And after an initial misguided campaign against the Chinese, all fingers of culpability were pointed directly at God. Considering his omnipresence, all fingers no matter where they pointed were pointed directly at God and also directly away from God, which agitated some hot heads even more. “Fuck you God,” they screamed, “Fuck you to your very core.”
And so the Lord decided that enough was enough, and through various means of communication, burning bushes, prophets, crying statues, e-mail, talking trees etc. God declared that the time had come.
He would clear the matter up entirely.

18 comments:

  1. To clarify for the confused amongst you *coughphantcough*, I did not write this. A person who wishes to remain anonymous did.
    I didn't want to use the word anonymous, though, because of the negative press it has gotten recently.
    So there, blah.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This is great!

    If you could do just one thing and move that "spear's" apostrophe to the right. It's doing my brain in.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Oh hold on. You didn't write this? Who did. Fuck anonymity. They should be given credit.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I moved the apostrophe. Your brain can be let out.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Yes Ian, you might know this person... but no guessing. All shall be revealed in due time. But not today or tomorrow...

    ReplyDelete
  6. Hold on Rob. Answer two questions for me.

    1. Was it someone I know. I imagine if Ian knows them then I probably don't.

    2. Was it a girl?

    3. Take me off the contributers list. I can't follow that.

    Number 3 gets in there 'cos it wasn't a question.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Daly, you are an ass. Just post what you have written and forget this story.
    Someone has to 'follow it up', it might as well be you. Otherwise, I am going to post my rather crappy story about you being a robot private investigator.

    ReplyDelete
  8. This rocked my socks.

    especially this line:
    People were getting tired of drinking, fucking and the new season of 24.

    While I do not watch 24 it seems that wherever I go I am forced to watch this show. Fuck you 24 and your little god too!!!!

    However given that I am a slut I never tire of drinking or fucking.
    Amen.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I never tire of fucking and am happy to ply you with alcohol while we watch your programme of choice.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Oh and I meant to say earlier this kicks ass. I believe it to be deceptively profound. It is representative of an entire civilization that has lost its way, is struggling to understand the atrocities being committed every day and is being unwillingly matured from a civilization of children to a civilization of adults. I am truly impressed.

    ReplyDelete
  11. yes well said Ian, now tell me more about this alcohol etc.. you'll be giving me

    ReplyDelete
  12. Well first you will be getting copious amounts of alcohol, of your choice, then choosing what to watch, then passing out and then I get to enjoy myself.

    ReplyDelete
  13. I assume by "enjoying yourself" you mean hogging the remote control, watching rugby and eating lemon merangue pie.
    (If you mean something else I am more fun awake.)
    Oh yes you have the recipe for Moscow mules should you ever need to ply me with alcohol.

    ReplyDelete
  14. Well it did involve lemon meringue pie but not rugby and watching although that would be fun too. However if you are more fun awake that will suit too. (How did you know I love lemon meingue?)

    ReplyDelete
  15. I demand more of this persons posts whoever it is.if possible.actually its nothing to do with me really. nice post all tha same

    ReplyDelete