wb :

bottles paper and air these are the things that consist the universe these are the things that consist the mind of man. These are the directions of the fleeting and the futile which rob the morning air of its freshness and of its wonder. I am streets and tar and cars. I am bundles of neurons misplaced by a friendly deity who (for some reason) needs them back. I wonder who he is, that great incompetent fucker, who by suggesting that he exists suggests that everything has gone horrifically wrong. Nothing has gone wrong. Everything has gone wrong. The black and white of it is really the grey and green of it, for right and wrong are urine and phlegm in the wilderness of the sane. What a wilderness! What animals! what free and flightsome birds that grace the morning with their sharp downstrokes, rebelling against the earth. I would be a bird but for being in love with the dirt. I would be a worm but for being in love with the air. I would be a tree but for being in love with running. I am, I am, I am! But He is not. Let us pray. Dear Lord, you are a nuisance. We'd be so much better off without your constant insisting that things are wrong in a particular way. They are wrong in all the ways there are to be wrong! But You don't see that. We gave you a chance - several. No, but two thousand years was insufficient to learn you. You are incorrigibly petulant. Therefore, after much regret and consideration, we have resolved to eat you. Goodbye. Oblivion is painless. Hello then, New World, Empty Sky, Cloud, Tree, WindowSill, Computer Screen. Hello then. I am your friend as it was in the beginning now and ever shall be world without end. I am Jesus - and here's the secret - I killed God. That was the Good News - that man is now and forever truly free amen. I do hope you appreciate it and if you would stop loving me for awhile and give your brother a smile I'd be truly obliged to not do something horrific because really I'm dead and why don't you all understand that? Why don't you all understand me? I gave my freedom so much so that I died for my fever, my guardian angel, my hallucination, my abdication, my abduction. I was the last of the mad so that mankind can now be sane. That was my gift! You have squandered it. You have lost it among the papers and bottles. I hope you are happy - but I know you aren't.