Viscera

[ The following is an excerpt from a forthcoming book of nihilist prose by Vadge Moore. ]

What is this that I am, at my core? What kind of monster, demon, or angel? Do you know? Can you perceive what I am, at bottom, ultimately?

No. You can not. You never will. So don't try.

I can. I perceive it clearly; this, my true nature, and I can tell you now that you probably don't want to be a witness to this cruel pageant, this savage exhibition, this unholy parade. This, my being, is an entity that chokes yet delights me, frightens yet intoxicates me; it provides me with a keen sense of my place in this vast ocean, this world.

Most people, the common folk, don't possess this sharpened sense, this perceptive, penetrating, pointed inner gaze. Most, the vast majority, could not even conceive of this caustic organ. There exist, right now, a mass of people confused, dumbfounded and utterly clueless as to the very meaning of these words. And these are the people that should be afraid, these are the slaves that shall serve, this is the amorphous herd of walking zombies that happily stumble throughout our world that have never and will never taste the indescribable joy that exists beyond good and evil.

Nor should they taste this delectable nectar. This heady elixir is reserved for the few, the far between, the cut above or, the cut apart, to put it more succinctly. This liqueur is for those that recognize that the sanctity of "sin" and transgression permeates all of life, all of nature, all things that are and all the things that will be. This spirit brings to me the crushing, horrifying delight in the utter bone-chilling cruelty of this world; its birth, its death, and all things in between.

You see, my core has always been, always, since the beginning. My core can see, and has already seen, the end; over and over again. This base of mine, this root is a continuous thread running though out all of space and time; the massive explosion and expansion of the galaxy along with the horrible crumbling and contracting of it. My essence has always been there, here, through inconceivable gulfs of time, running roughshod over ever extending terrains of matter and motion and space. Constant, permanent, pure.

So, when I am asked to show some kind of concern for the poor, the destitute, and the unfit of this world; when it is demanded of me that I need to voice some sort of compassion and care for the underprivileged, I can only laugh. These bleeding heart philistines just cannot see the enormous expanse of it, how entirely insignificant their miniscule lives really are, they can't see the ridiculous comedy that all of creation's worries and woes, truly are.

I say, it's time to stop living like mice on this earth and begin living like men! Ripping, tearing, fighting, conquering mightily like kings with absolutely no thought of a why or a where, an if or a because; only going, doing, living, and moving because this is what the entire cosmos does all of the time.

But, most can not live this way; neither literally nor metaphorically-- because they have lost their core. Through their innate weakness and sorrowful compassion they have denied themselves their one true link to that eternal thread. It is through their inability to directly face the raw, discouraging and glacial fear of the utter cosmic indifference of this world that they will never experience the ecstasy and the strength that I feel, that the few feel all of the time.

There's a new dispensation developing, my friends, and you can either be swept aboard or tossed aside. The choice may be at your core.




© Vadge Moore / DISCRIMINATE MEDIA, 2008