America Also Suffices by Nicole Terry The world works like a joke, but is often completely, if not utterly unfunny, at least to You because in this Grand Theatre (modernly titled the “World” but America also suffices), You are in on the joke, albeit the butt of said joke, and the latter often. There are ways to traverse this of course, most important being Avoid All Citizens Of The World. The citizenry, or People (those empty-headed, carbon-based bipeds filled with favorite delicacy served by a red-haired white-faced clown in large red boots and yellow suit, propagating “happiness” in a convenient box complete with toy for every boy or girl) who, having somehow convinced themselves that they are not only free of the joke constantly played on about them, but are imbibed with consciousness as well. People tend to gather in large quantities to Witness or Martyr any Manifestation of the joke they do not know they are Instruments of. That manifestation, or “Sacrifice,” is You. A side note: You should not make the mistake of ever pointing out the joke to People or even that You are the Sacrifice; this act incenses People, instantly turning the previously innocent bystander into a riotous, bloodthirsty Mass of Outrage and Fear. And with the smell of fresh kill in their noses (that is, You), rush en masse to the nearest Center of Consumption to purchase madly leaving innocent victims, price tags, and slips of green paper in their wake. Remember, People's behavior can turn ugly in a single whim sensationalized on electronic high-definition boxes providing the daily news meal. Keeping this in mind, You should presume nothing, as most assuredly through the laws and nature of physics, the moment You do, the opposite of that presumption instantaneously occurs and will breed within the mind (any one will do, by Murphy's Law, only one mind is necessary). It will occur from somewhere and someone, and probably when You are not looking and least expectant. Like, in a rare moment of tranquility such that, at Your most ebullient period (say while You are taking a bath, complete with candles, incense, soft music, and drug or drink of Your choice) the opposing force rears its beastly head to destroy You, consume You, then leave You writhing to pick Yourself up off the floor. But, is sardonically benevolent enough to supply You with enough towels. They are good People after all. Furthermore, You should know not to speak aloud of the joke or even question its mastery, as this seems to engage not only the master, but also its true believers, or slaves. Through the magic of middle management, another law of physics, but commonly known as Bureaucracy or the Trickle-Down Effect, Menial Attendants or its modern usages Agents, tend to find out where You are by way of tips from People and the electronic Instruction Giver in a glowing box. Then with artillery enough to scare a small country, show up at Your home or “Compound,” declaring their Enforcement and identifying themselves as publicans or tax collectors. I have seen it done, as these things often end up on the previously mentioned consumptive electronic devices sometimes known as Tele-vision or Idiot Boxes (be wary of these Instruments of Public Urgency, they are a powerful medium), and it often involves shots fired, raging conflagrations, lack of empathy, and an unbelievable amount of ignorance. Fret not, for in true Human Fashion, You are afforded compensation for Your troubles, pain, and suffering by way of cement dorm-rooms and, yes, plenty of towels. Now, you might think yourself safe if you simply never leave Your cave, but this is a false sense of security. “Security” is made available only through Companies of Insurance or suffrage, which People often demand, as well as devote their entire laboring existences to. What does this mean for You, You wonder? Well, several things, but, put simply it means You won't be laughing at the joke, but You will have plenty of towels and just enough time before the next wave of good-intentions and soul-saving to knot the rope, load the gun, light the cigarette in the gas-filled one-room apartment You were able to afford as You most likely do not or cannot hold a position in one of those life-sucking mind-numbing Factories of Occupations, and hopefully blow Yourself and Your towels loose from this gravity-spinning, dancing orbital whirlwind called the World, or America also suffices. © Copyright 2008 Nicole Terry ALL RIGHTS RESERVED [back to Prose] [more Writings]