Wednesday, 2 June 2010

Zombie Deity

Right. You're God, OK? You're an integral part of the Suchness and Thusness which created the entirety of All That Is.
So why is it that the sight of pigeon poop drives you to erect great big bloody steel spikes on their ledging nests? When you cut down all the trees in the area to create the pretentious monstrosity known locally as Melrose Arch, did you give a thought to the other forms of Life you drove away, drove out of their homes, or drove to death?

And now the spectre of pigeons defecating on your miles of bloody glass work - good for nothing but an over-the-top statement of how post modern you are - sends you into a frenzy of steel-spiked revenge. On birds for crying out loud.

Pigeons carry disease do I hear you say? What do you think humans do? Crammed into your badly-constructed boxes of offices?

You morons. You god-unconscious, destructive bloody morons.

Mind you, the pigeons are equally God. Perhaps they should conjure some dire barrier to your homes, to prevent you from resting, too. Before I take the plastique and do it myself.