There's a reason for me to be posting here. Is it because I'm a writer for the Psychotronik Comics group? Maybe. Is it because I've found my way by weird coincidence onto this blog and am staking my claim whilst I still can? No. Thing is, I don't need an excuse. The world made me do this. I am not a man in control of his actions. Neither are you. I'm writing because the world made me, and my mind will rationalise my decisions later, because that is what it always does. To everyone. Forever.
The reason I write is because I thought I enjoyed it. I thought I was good at it. And that I could always get better. I like reading, I like learning, I like experimenting with different styles and all the stuff that is inherent to being "a writer". But apparently, the world made me do it. Here's the thing, there's a school of thought that says that the world affects us like we're puppets. That my typing this was preordained not by my thoughts, but because the world willed it, and me, like the puppet I am, am following through with that decree. This school of thought is called "Epiphenomenalism". It's a very hard word to remember on the fly, and I do hope I finally spelt it right after all my fretting.
So here's the thing, free will doesn't exist. We're slave to something bigger than all of us, the world. And think about this: We treat the world like shit. We use up resources like they're going out of fashion, we choke the air with fumes, we reproduce like vermin and spread ourselves across the continents, just looking for a hole to call our own so we can repeat the process all over again. If you were the world, what would you be forcing us to do? Sit back and be happy, continuing this ragged cycle of abuse that we inflict upon the world? Yes. Because you know why? We're killing ourselves. The world is giving us cancer because it's not making us do anything at all. The world inflicts disasters upon us and we're so inept that we can't even react to them. Then again, that's probably not entirely our doing, because, honestly, look at soon-to-be-former President Bush, and tell me that guy doesn't hate the world.
We're being turned into killers, not my television, videogames, gang culture and extreme porn, but by the actions we've inflicted upon the world. We're like puppets on a string. Now, I guess you could bring up the fact that the world made us treat it like a ten dollar hooker, but all evidence points to the world being a benevolent host, else why would it put up with us? Why doesn't it just open up, swallow us whole to fuel the core of the Earth and go about waiting for the evolutionary cycle to start again? Because it cares. Earth is a Mother. And no Mother truly wants to eat it's children whole, does it? (If you disagree with that statement right there you're right at home at this blog but you should keep away from me... cheers.) So we're killing the world, and in turn, the world is killing us slowly because it knows that most of us will go quietly in our sleep. How kind.
Doesn't that sound like a horror story to you?
(Originally published here, "Why The World Hates You (And Me. But Me Less)" 6/12/08)
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