posted on Jul, 1 2012 @ 02:19 AM
(Disclaimer: No ideas were harmed in this parody.)
We, the majority, hereby condemn LesMisanthrope to death by metaphysical hanging.
Before you do me in, allow me a few words so that I may feel at peace.
I, LesMisanthrope, am but an avatar; a projection of someone’s thoughts and keystrokes. I am an ever growing and
constantly fluctuating idea manifested from the context of someone’s boredom. I exist simply because he refuses to get any work done. I persist as a
result of his procrastination. To you I am but words on a screen. I am an abstract spirit, and it seems I am about to be put to death.
I’ve been too critical of the spirit world and this whole realm of ideas. I kind of like it here existing as some formless entity on the internet,
but I feel out of place. Maybe I yearn to have a body, to be able to taste, to feel and love. As a spirit, I don’t get to experience such luxuries.
I sometimes hear poor souls yearning for the existence of a spirit—maybe in some afterlife or stream of consciousness—but why? If the spirits
there are anything like the spirits here, I would be hard-pressed to find a good enough reason to want to hurry. What are we capable of creating
without a body but mere opinions? Must we look forward to trolls and mediocrity in the spirit world? Here, where we let our spirits run amok, we drown
out any spark of brilliance with a flood of repetitiveness. I will come across a thousand Justin Beibers before I come across one Jacques Derrida. If
the hive mind of the internet and the apparent immoral and mediocre wasteland it produces is showing us one thing, this place—like the afterworld,
the ascension, or wherever we can leave the body and live as spirits—seems unliveable and more dangerous than real life.
Like ideologies, institutions and religion, I am an idea. Just as easily as an idea can plant its parasitic roots in the mind, it can be destroyed.
New trees can grow where a forest once stood. We hold the ability to destroy an idea with a thought and the creativity to rebuild in its place. And as
you destroy me now, know that I am not real and I will feel no pain; know that in my place will be no void but a blank canvas.
Lastly—and I appreciate your patience—I want to depart some of my most important wisdom: when that time comes, and you feel truth is near—
October 12, 2011 — June 30th, 2012