Death Is Just Around The Corner

The month of November continues its inexorable march into oblivion as Thanksgiving approaches, like a wounded soldier limping home down a dark and deserted country road, trying desperately to shake the haunting, blood-soaked memories of some nameless battle as they threaten to shred his fragile psyche before he can return to the clammy, inviting embrace of his morbidly obese-yet understanding roommate Karl.

Karl doesn't judge, he doesn't chastise, and he's never late with his half of the month's rent. You never bothered to learn what Karl does for a living, and some small voice in a forgotten corner of your mind always found it only slightly suspicious that he never seemed to mention his place of employment in your many drug-fueled late-night conversations. And why does Karl only seem to wear new, freshly-ironed boiler suits? They're always spotless and freshly starched, smelling of bleach and caution, and you can't recall ever seeing him wearing absolutely anything else. What is Karl hiding?

But all of your suspicions melt away as he folds his beefy arms around your torso, and your face rests on his massive shoulder, your eyes watering as the sting of bleach assaults your senses. It seems Karl will remain a kindly mystery, his wide grin and beady eyes forever masking some unknowable crime that would shatter your reality should you ever dare to glimpse behind the curtain of madness that his smiling, porcine death mask of a face represents.

I'm confused. Am I saying that Thanksgiving represents a nightmarish evil lurking behind the face of banality that appears in homes all across the U.S.A. throughout this season? No, that can't be right, because I began by comparing Thanksgiving to a wounded soldier coming home to a nightmarish evil lurking behind the face of banality that appears in homes all across the U.S.A. throughout this season, yet he chooses to ignore the terrible truth, instead embracing the comforting lie that could hide any number of atrocities because we're all too afraid to see the truth when it's staring us right in the face? I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about, apparently. This shit just kind of happened when I started typing, and I clearly had no idea what I was doing when I summoned this fat specter of evil named Karl.

Maybe this has something to do with what white people have done to the numerous native tribes that lived and loved here for centuries before they showed up on these shores with their fancy ideas of civilization and their diseases and their stupid hats with buckles on them. I guess I could go with that, but I don't think it holds any water. It's all just killing time to introduce another fucking podcast, anyway.

Yes, it's time for another episode of Why The Fuck Do I Even Bother?!, the single most pointless podcast on the web. This particular episode, entitled Role Models For The Modern Nihilist, is mostly about pornography and how it has evolved over the past thirty years. I say "mostly" because the booze made it rather difficult to remain focused on anything at all. That's what happens when a person drinks excessively and tries to carry on a conversation with a disinterested guest who spends most of his time fucking around on his smartphone while also drinking excessively. It makes for quite a fascinating conversation, let me tell you.

So why don't you hang out for a few minutes and listen to something that just might change your miserable fucking life before it's too late and you die choking on bleach and cursing an uncaring god in Karl's secret sex dungeon?

Chapter 43: Role Models For The Modern Nihilist



More to come. Probably this weekend, because I have plans. Big Plans.

TIME MARCHES ON!