[Back] [Next]
Fifty-Seventh Sitting

One hour until zero hour (the four week anniversary thing, i.e. midnight Alaska time); I don't think I'll have you all updated by then, but I guess Halloween night, i.e. tomorrow, should work just as well for dramatic effect. Yes, many things are supposed to magically coincide without too much real effort on my part. I trust this effort to Someone, though, although I don't know who exactly. I just know everything will work out okay, or at least work out, or at least end. This I know. I think.


You already know the hot springs story in just about as much detail as I'm willing to relate. I didn't mention the point at which we were standing outside alone, our lower bodies at 95deg., our upper bodies at 45deg., sort of pseudo-slow dancing, and I swear to God She kissed Me on the neck. I decided then and there that within the next twenty-four hours I would... vacuum Her apartment.

And that night, after fighting off an angry goose, after the long dark drive home in which the tranquillity and sense of immanent envelopment by the unknown hung out in the back seat while our sense of not knowing quite how to act towards each other grew to such epic proportions that our Mitsubishi Dream Machine needed no fuel of its own, after being snapped back into social mode to deal with Her roommate, then Her bedroom door closed and the combined weight of several eons of evolution overcame us... sort of.


God my little room is cold. I stand in this breeze from the closed window, as myself. Possibly for the last time. The lunar month has elapsed, and all I have to show for it is a lot of writing and a small pain just behind the middle of my forehead. I have met another "prospect," someone whom I can talk to, but would turn that direction only out of a deep despair. Nothing has changed for my She since I left, nor will it soon. So I must put myself on hold, try not to change a bit, until the New Year. I must define myself here and now and use this as a base for all activity. And ya know, I might as well kill two birds with one stone and use this opportunity to finish off my grad school application.

Statement of Purpose

Name: Linsetc. Marky Too complicated to explain Major: philosophy

Legal Family Name (surname) First Name Middle Name

The statement of purpose is required of all applicants. If your major department requires a different format, you do not need to use this form.

I am a human being, which means I possess no detailed intrinsic purpose, but am provided with a complicated jumble of purpose-generating systems (e.g. my digestive system, my libido, my "instincts," etc.) with which I cannot help but deal with if I am in the least bit conscious. Among these is the drive, the need maybe, to adopt a purpose or two as my own, i.e. to use this to generate consciously-held goals. To determine what purpose to pick, to decide which will feel most natural or fulfilling to me and so continue to engage me as "worthwhile," I must use whatever Wisdom, however slight, I may have somehow acquired.

Wisdom does not dictate paths, exactly, but merely tells me that some paths are best avoided. And by God She tells Me to RELAX, but not to SLEEP, never really SLEEP. I don't want to miss anything. I don't want to wake up and find I've spent eighty years of my life eating and watching television. I want to feel, by God. I want to feel it all, except whatever might keep me from feeling later... I guess I've got to figure that out as I go along...

And I know to be awake, to be really alive, I need Her, or someone very much like Her, to watch my back, and give me fuel, and take my gifts, and be a little bit against me... tightly. As chance or fate would have it, I love Her, so My purpose is to keep Her in the best possible way... not so that She feels imprisoned, or is forced to give any other parts of Her life short shrift. It is my purpose to stay in Her heart and mind, and keep Her in mine. I hereby let Her into my heart, in a most deep and permanent way, so that even if I hear the cries of my own panic or the Call of the Wild, I will not falter, for She will call me back. And if this proves impossible for Her, for whatever reason deep in Her heart, I will forgive Her and move on; it is part of my purpose to change my purpose should this prove necessary. I must retain that glint.

Oh, and also I want to study some stuff... probably philosophy... I guess.


That should get me into heaven... Oh, yes... did I mention I already have a reserved seat there? Yep. It came just before sixth grade, at an insidious summer camp I got sent to in Wisconsin where for a week I was barraged with nature walks, bizarre team sports, and Jesus. And yay! did I accept the Lord into my heart on a hot summer night when the singin' was strong and the preachin' was stronger. And ooo ah was I told that I was saved, that God would never let me go, no matter how far I twisted, that He would always be inside of Me with a hand around my heart...


Let me explain a Jungian term for a moment, something that I realize I have to this point made no attempt to do, preferring instead that you be just slightly baffled at his erudition and feel that much dumber than me. The term is (pause while I look it up) enantiodromia. It is introduced on page xxvii of the editor's (Joseph Campbell's) introduction of The Portable Jung in the context of a discussion of Introversion vs. Extroversion. "Each attitude, however, is susceptible to enantiodromia, and when that occurs there emerge all the other unconscious contents, containing, reinforcing, and bewildering one another in such a pell mell of feeling-toned complexes as to put one, literally, `beside oneself.'" So for instance, when God decides He's going to be all good, all that evil that is just as much Him has to have somewhere to go, so it first seeps through in subtle ways, and then totally rages out of control in all that apocalypse-stuff in Revelation, with the Lamb running around slaughtering everyone, and all but 144,000 elect getting thrown into hell. Once an ass, Eternally so...


The third tooth dream was by far the worst. I have had nightmares about this nightmare; I have started screaming in crowded restaurants; I have felt all my clothing flee in fear from the possessor of such mighty visions. I told you how I'm still supposed to wear that retainer, right? And how I haven't at all, really, or hadn't before that dream anyway. Well, I dreamt one day late in the summer that I woke up in the same bed with Her, and felt something strange. And whether I looked in the mirror or didn't even need to, I'm not sure, but I knew what I had become... My left rear upper incisor had moved all the way in front of and over my left front upper incisor; my right front upper incisor had moved in front of and over my right rear upper incisor. I would draw you a picture if I did not fear it coming to life. I did draw Her a picture, in a letter written to Her during My boring hours of summer work (i.e. all of them, few though they were). She knows My pain, and laughed. Ah, My Love.


Did I fight the shithead for Her? ...for my Her of the moment, that is. She thought I did; I heard it straight from her friends. She flatters herself. There was much more to it than that, much more buried down there that had to be let out, much more to prove...


Well, as midnight Alaska daylight time hits, one twenty-nine day (for the purposes of this revelation) month since my plane took off and made Her tears flow long and hard, the revelation occurs. Well, actually it's 11:00pm, Alaska time, as an hour ago daylight savings changed to standard time... but I guess it hasn't happened there yet, as it's before 2:00am. Or does it happen simultaneously across the country? Doesn't that screw up TV scheduling? Would I get to see two late-night Dukes of Hazard episodes, if only I would stop having revelations?

Oh, that... the revelation is that I am God. Hey, now, you really should have seen this coming; I did give fifty-odd obvious foreshadowing clues. Yes, this was the secret thing that I said mentioned near the end of the second paragraph in sitting forty-four. (And I didn't even have to look that up; I just knew.) I couldn't tell you about it because I was constructing an actual sort-of literary device (this one is called "pretentiofication"). So I did, and I'm God now. Surprise!

You see, I've been slowly realizing that were I to achieve Enlightenment, the plot would speed up considerably. Plus I could take this arrogant asshole thing that's been surfacing all over and take it to its logical conclusion. Yes, I am arrogant, and this book is pretty damn self-indulgent, and consequently weighed down with lots of excess fat, but that's okay, because I'm God, ya see, so nyah. I am so powerful that I could make Her totally drop Him at this point, but I won't because I'm going to endow Her with free will, and dammit by my command that term magically does make some kind of sense. Anyway, if She tries to cross Me, I can always threaten Her with eternal damnation. So whatever. I'm omniscient, and I know the future, which in this case holds that She'll pick me and get assumpted, so now you know and can just stop reading now.

Hey, you stop stoppin', you very tiny speck of a nothing of a reader, or I'll smack ya good. There's still more tale to tell and dammit you're gonna read it because it's not even slightly under your control anymore. So what hey... lie back and enjoy it, baby.

Well, Geez, where to start, now that I have all the resources of the five thousand realms at my disposal? I could tell you about the Creation, or Life Beyond Black holes, or about a lovable smart-alecky red puppet from outer space that makes its home with everybody's favorite family. Or I could whine about getting hurt in sitting 26... Ah, yes! To satisfy what I said before about wanting to relate realistic dialogue, and so what makes this book worth reading, I'll grant you some actual, verbatim dialogue from the Last Day, which I possess thanks to my omniscience plus the fact that We taped it. Throughout about twenty minutes of that day (not in a row), I had my little tape recorder running, filling up all the space after my song with Us talking and/or Me muttering affectionately. She was nice enough to send a snippet of this to me by mail, which I requested She do, but not until after She had done it... spooky, eh? So I got it in the mail yesterday along with lots of relevant music and even a bit of Her singing. I say a bit because the tape cut off after only a verse, and She's glad of it. But whatever: I could hear Her sing any time, if I really wanted, `cause I'm God, that's why. Hey, there's a mosquito on your back... oh, it flew away just before you turned around. See? I know everything about you. `Cause I'm God.

[Back] [Next]