Filthy Hobbitses

          The Super World Extravaganza is finished, leaving me with a host of new contacts, many exciting new opportunities to follow up on this week, and a lot to think about. For example, at one of the gatherings I hosted this weekend, I found myself rather bluntly interrogated, by a group of seemingly well intentioned individuals, as to my true motives and my ultimate goals. This group heroically took it upon themselves to ensure that I meant their fair city no harm. It seems that my language worried them for some reason. My promises seemed too big. My aspirations of achieving meta-humanity seemed far too lofty and, ultimately, too unrealistic; perhaps even dangerous. I believe my failure to reassure them that I was “safe” may well have cost me a few new friends, and, in fact, it might have even earned me some enemies, but, if it didn’t, perhaps the rest of this post will. After all, I find few things more gratifying, not to mention deeply affirming, than the clamorous cries of concern and consternation coming from a pitchfork swinging lynch mob.

          The way I see it, all speech can be divided into three categories. There’s talk that happens towards no purpose at all, commonly known as idle banter, or, even more commonly, bullshit. Then, more nefariously, there’s talk that’s meant to actively stop someone from doing something. Although large enough piles of B.S. all by themselves will often accomplish this outcome fairly well, chit-chat such as that is far less damaging than the sort of overly critical, obstructionist, suppressive speech that I’m talking about here; the kind of vitriol that rolls so easily off of the tongues of so many of these typically tiny and terrified human beings that, perhaps because we now lack any obvious predators, we’ve bred to fill this world to the brim.

          However, I would be remiss if I failed to mention that there are still a small number of people out there who can and do employ the act of speech in a wholly constructive manner, with the intention of actually helping actions to occur, of getting things done. These people are tragically rare because most of us are taught to buy into poisonous ideas like “be careful what you wish for,” “better safe than sorry,” and, of course, one of my personal favorites, “don’t rock the boat.” It’s not that all actions should be supported in whatever forms they might take, but rather that the spirit of action itself should be supported, and that one can express concern about how something is being done without arguing in such a way that leads to nothing getting done at all.

          Yet the real reason it seems that almost everyone’s a critic these days is that it takes far less effort, not to mention less courage, to judge than it does to do almost anything else, and obstructionists like these can always pat themselves on the back for stopping any number of imaginary calamities from which they’ve seemingly saved the world. Ultimately, people like this are little more than Hobbits.

          This, of course, is a dangerous line of rhetoric for me to employ. Many people are able to get behind my plans to oppose the spread of the so-called “Zombie Epidemic,” since the monstrous Zombie, unnatural, unfeeling, and almost always unfriendly, is rarely, if ever, cast in a very positive light. However, fewer people would respond anywhere near as favorably if I were to voice my concerns about the growing Hobbit menace. Hobbits, after all, are far less disturbing figures in general, cute even, and are, therefore, far less aggressively obvious in the harm that they do; but make no mistake, they are an enormous danger to any number of ambitions we might have, particularly any meta-human ones.

          So allow me to be blunt: I am not here to make the world any safer for Hobbits; they’ve eradicated almost every ounce of real excitement and danger that this world had to offer, and the buttoned down, conformist, consumer culture that they’ve created to replace it all has conflated almost every form of individual power and unusual achievement with flat out villainy and monstrosity. I know exactly where I stand. I have no need to deceive anyone as to my true intentions, so I won’t shy away from the role of villain whenever and wherever I find it thrust upon me. I AM Victor Frankenstein, at work on things you wouldn’t even dare imagine. I AM Johann Faustus, peddling simple souls to demons to save those spirits which now slumber. I AM the Titan Prometheus, still attempting to deliver the stolen fire of divinity to mere humans formed from clay. Most importantly, I AM Simon Motherfucking Zealot, the revolutionary who wanted Christ to reject the cross, to fight back against a frightened people’s slavish need to have all their Gods crippled and brought down to their level. The real question one should be asking oneself is how can anyone be anything other than what one imagines oneself to be?

          Stinky little Hobbits beware; the Djinn Army marches on…

 
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3 Responses
  1. Don't worry. The hobbits possess a potential that the zombies, perhaps, do not. They simply need to be forced out of their cozy little comfort-zones, and soon they will see that calamity may be nigh, but it is because of inaction, and not action. To continue your metaphor, we must be the wizards who drag them screaming out of their holes.

    - Q

  2. There are those whose greatest purpose in life is simply to be, to exist, in your language, as hobbits. Should not your private enlightenment matter more than the forced ascension of those who do not desire it?

    If you seek to become a Bodhisattva surely you must first become a great shining creature yourself, and lead by example.

  3. I came here crippled
    for their sake
    an invisible god
    for those who eat life
    taking
    without giving

    who amongst them
    saw curse that was a blessing?
    Who said: here
    our teaching is fulfilled today
    we move from word to deed!

    Say: I will leave
    that I may arrive
    while time still is.

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