By Life is elementally exciting. It has always been. One of the oldest tricks in the book is to try and convince your neighbor that you’ve seen something before or that life has been tamed, but it always surprises. The thing that makes life interesting is that life is self-destructive. We’re eating each other and being eaten in a giant destructive orgy of immeasurable combination and emasculation. We’re in the soup. The soup is us. And it’s getting soupier. We are all one life. You were never really born. You were a sperm that got whittled off of your antecedent being that was whittled off of its antecedent being going back billions of years. No one alive has ever died. We are one giant, non-local, spongiform blob of DNA, plasma, bone, and intention that is undulating on a rock in space and getting a tan. We’re here, we’re sphere, and who the fuck knows what is going to happen next.
Oh, well, there’s some ambulatory speck of us over there that says that they have it all figured out. You should probably trust that speck.
