Out of the Impyard, into the Jester cave

“While we are within L’Mura, it is best that you do not even mention you were once a part of Prospertum”, said Jester grimly, “albeit most of L’Mura’s mortals have died off to old age, there are those who still remember the stories that their great, great, grandparents told them”.
Eli took a deep breath and steadied himself knowing full well his question could land him in great trouble.

“If L’Mura believes in the carnal reinforced by the technological, then why does Meren and Kelendis not grant their citizens… immortality?”, he trailed off hesitantly not wishing to speak further.

Jester gazed at him for a moment, his deep emerald green eyes twinkling in the fire light. After a rather uncomfortable moment for Eli he spoke:

“L’Murians believe that that which is canal must die. For to extend a life span is to cheat the Astrale”, Jester told him as a father would address a naive child.

“Astrale?”, Eli asked.

Jester raised an eyebrow at him quizzically and then continued:

“The Astrale is the Void as we know it. As we have learned in our constant pursuit of science, electrons are capable of being in two places at once when not harshly scrutinized”, he paused once more, searching for Eli’s reaction. Jester obviously realized that Eli had none forthcoming and so he sighed.

“The point I wish to make is that the Void, or rather Astrale, as some like to call it; has a built in way of disallowing direct observation. Even the Gods themselves can not crack all Astrale inconsistencies as they too, have biological functions under their divinity. Albeit it is possible for say”, Jester snorted and spat, “… Achladus to pry into the Astrale plan and use it in his experiments, he can never fully harness it. Think of it as a sub-source code within a super computer with excessive algorithm encryption. Just as a scientist who designs a great machine, the being who made all of this possible… would hate to see it hacked”.

Mesmerized as he was by the information that he was getting from Jester, Eli didn’t notice his mouth was hanging open for a solid minute. He was so in awe that he didn’t notice that a fly had taken up residence on his upper lip. Eli spat and shook himself.

“Yes, yes, but what does the Astrale… err Void”, he changed his word choice as he saw Jester’s complexion change at his ‘Astrale’ word usage, “… have to do with disallowing immortality on L’Muran citizenry?”

Jester looked away from Eli and gazed into the primitive fire he had created in his cave. After a few moments he seemingly absently replied with:


“What?”, came Eli’s automatic question.

Still peering into the flame’s licking tongue which cackled and popped in front of them encased in a rock cluster, Jester muttered:

“To artificially extend one’s life is to cheat the Void. When one does that there are bad consequences. To return to the Void after life is natural, to avoid it is unnatural. Nature and the universe always finds ways to balance…”, he trailed off still gazing into the flames, “I’m sure read about the Blackened back in Prospertum?”

Eli felt a knot develop in his stomach as he remembered the Historical passage he had had read as a child.

“Yes…”, he croaked.

“The Blackened are a fine example of what happens to biological entities who cheat death in our physical plane of existence. Sure they gained powers nearing demigods, but at a price…”, Jester immediately looked up Eli, the ire of the fire reflecting in his eyes:

“Their mortality”.

Eli gulped and then shuddered, he knew all too well what Jester meant by “mortality”.

“Decayed black rotting corpses”, he whispered.

“Indeed”, Jester agreed in a grim tone.

Even though Eli had just met this weirdo, who seemed rather mad, he also sounded insightful. It made no sense at all and the inconsistency of his madness threw him off. Did the Void (or rather Astrale) exist? Or was Jester delusional and messing around with him? He once more gave Jester a stare, trying to deduce what was going on within that most strange mind.

Jester evidently was done with the exchange as he smiled and turned around to start working on a clay mold. Where the clay had come from Eli couldn’t phantom as he looked at Jester through the fire. What it represented completely eluded Eli as he couldn’t comprehend it. It was some sort of blob which sprouted several appendages. These appendages varied in size and seemed to lack an purpose. Eli spoke:

“What is that Jester?”

“If I told you it would defeat the purpose of the art.”


“The expression of the soul”

“Why not just use some technology? Say a particle re-assembler?”, Eli asked innocently.

The sudden rage that accompanied his question was enormous and unexpected. Without warning Jester took the clay sculpture in one hand, and with the other, smashed his fist into it. Jester’s face flushed a deep scarlet and looked as if he might explode.

“Why don’t you just become a Mirrorer? Why not simply become a sheep? Why be sane when you can be mad?!”, he bellowed at Eli, the force of his voice amplified and godlike.

This outburst shocked Eli to the core and he froze in place, still sitting cross-legged in front of Jester’s looming face that hovered inches from the fire. He felt as if Jester had become a dragon and could breathe fire. He gawked in shock.

“Well?! What do you have to say for yourself… you… you scientist!”, Jester snarled at him, rage still evident in his voice.

Eli tried hard to think of what on Tsarsara Jester meant by that statement.

“I was just stating a more effective method…”, he said his voice giving out with a croak.

Jester took a deep breath and was evidently was steadying himself. After a brief while, he visibly calmed down and the serenity that was once evident in his eyes returned.

“… I had forgotten that you come from Prospertum…”, there was a slight tinge to his eyes, like a tear, “Let me explain it to you Eli. Art is the expression of the soul. It’s where logic begins and creativity ends, however I am sure that no one knows this. The artist claims the irrational while simultaneously hiding meaningful reason”, Jester grinned sardonically.

“That makes no sense”, said Eli timidly scared of another outburst.

“Says the man who practices binary”.

“Stop speaking in riddles”.

“Stop breathing”.

“That’s impossible”.

“Exactly”, grinned Jester.

He lowered his gaze and looked at his clay encased hand. It was as if he had had some sort of reality disconnect.

“Well… that’s wonderful”, Jester’s voice trailed off, “I was going to shoot it when it was done”.

Eli cocked his head back, what on earth what this individual talking about?

Where is the wonder and awe? (English paper satire)

This article is not so much based upon logic as it is on observing my environment and applying abstract thinking. I recently finished the novel “The picture of Dorian Grey” by Oscar Wilde (for lo, the great heretic of the 19th century literature!) and it struck a cord within my psyche.

To explain simply, the concept of the novel is immortality without the fall backs of the effects of vice (eg. those who excessively drink develop leathery skin, those who smoke excessively large amounts of marijuana develop a spacey demeanor, etc.). Dorian Grey, a strapping young lad, is presented to Lord Henry who is friends with a poor artist under the name of Basil.

As with all great artists (Basil), they love the archetypes and the illogical more often than not. This is not to say that they lack the ability to apply logic and reason, but rather they believe such a method of life is rather dull and lacking in superstition (emotional validation). To emphasize, regardless of your spirituality and method of worship (yes, even you atheists worship something: science. Worship here meaning paying homage to and applying yourself through it’s guidelines). This is where philosophy and religion intersect and the coin becomes two sided, ours is a reality of extremes and dualism, thus to deny any side on basis of a “wrong” or “right” nature is rather black and white thinking and limiting.

Oh the extremes that humanity seems to find itself in at junctures in time, and the irony arises where the zealots (Social Justice Warriors) claim moral superiority and the moral relativists (pseudo-intellectuals) claim intellectual superiority. It isn’t that simple. As with most Left hand path philosophies, sometimes things DON’T have to make complete and utter logical sense; Or even feeling sense. Sometimes the ‘right’ is ‘wrong’ and the ‘wrong’ is ‘right’, or hell even ‘right’ can be ‘maybe’ (relativism). However also one can take a limited binary true/false method to understanding but once again it is a limited vehicle as it ignores the duality of man. Note my obvious almost black-white tendency here, which I believe due to cultural influence and my Christian background growing up, makes me susceptible to falling into such faulty reasoning. We can not ignore our biological imperatives of tribalism, conformity, and desire to ego-preserve.

Moving on to the novel itself “The Picture of Dorian Grey”, Wilde does an amazing job of unearthing the mechanical nature of the 19th century in that it “knows the price of everything, but the value of nothing”. Many humans logically know what something is worth, but fewer still emotionally know what makes it valuable within itself (intrinsic). For he wished to add a Dionysian element back to society which he deems to be lacking, if much can be gleaned from Lord Henry’s character. For that is what Lord Henry represents, a bitter reasoner who has snapped. For him youth and beauty are the ideals and that modern man is deluded into thinking a knowledgeable account of “if this, then this, therefore this” is sufficient to explain the human condition. He has jumped from logic to emotion it seems, then again I am speculating as this article is more a brainstorm more-so than a deductive argument.

Of course heresy! How dare he attack the modern narrative of the science! Of materialism! Of the exploitation of suppressed desires! Woe are we! For indeed we need the irrational and the Wilde! For all that it has brought us, it has also taken away.

This brings me to the point that I want to discuss: the irrational initiation rites of the human being. What is the point of schooling institutions and such, if they deny any form of cultural emotional initiation? Where is the imagery which makes us happy and connected? Where is wonder and the awe? We dress up like puppets and march from point A to point B and are told that we are “adults” on a logical level, however we are not given that rite that sparks the wonder of being ‘adult’. Something as simple as dosing a man into a basin of water for symbolic cleansing is massive, what do we get? A paper and some bullshit processed propaganda of what ‘ought to be’ speech, please. Although I agree that we live in a world obsessed with Globalization (which quite honestly goes against the humans desire for tribal association) but it is being approached from a logical perspective rather than an emotional level.

It is within my speculation that the systematic unhealthy destruction between relationships within motion pictures as well as the false superficial ‘bro cult’ are a pathetic excuse to apply some sort of divide-conquer tactic that plays upon emotional desire (that of competitiveness, and fighting, and false community where we all act like “machos” and put one another down for being human). I am not opposed to locker-room banter between males, in fact I embrace it, but I still despise bro culture as it’s image based opposed to bonding based; and this superficial logical (pretending to be emotional) imagery helps the system delude the human spirit. Without a spirit a horse is broken, what of man? Where is the true emotional ties? We are a culture of logical emotion, where association seems to be more of image than actual understanding.
Logic will only get you so far in creativity and thought, it is a limited system and the ancients knew this. The Dark ages was a representation of the rejection of logic in favor of emotions, while our modern era is the rejection of emotion for logic. Hilarious really, when you think about it. Such it was with Dorian Grey as he tried to rationalize his shitty amoral behavior and ignore the ugliness of his soul, falsely assuming he could apply reason to suppress his emotions.

I paraphrase Dorian’s comments within the book:

“Oh I only wish to gaze upon the beauty!” -Ignores his prowling of opium dens and the likes, ignores the fact of that which he does is rather not beautiful, why not say “Oh I wish to gaze upon beauty and ugliness! For therein lies understanding!”
“I can rationalize away the murder of Basil!” – Kills Basil for calling him wicked, even though he loves the man greatly. In his desire to ignore logic he regressed into animalistic emotions (you defy me? DIE!).
“I can rationalize my artistic objectification of Sybil! For now since she no longer acts well I have lost the ability to love the concept of love!” -He loved the idea of her, not her.



Comment: Now that I have looked at the article I wrote completely on the fly last night I have realized the following. This article is pure sarcasm and a mockery of the English discipline in it’s modern format. What if the arts in the current mode of the world is a series of intellectual shit tests deemed to find out who is stupid enough to embrace the inconsistencies and those who aren’t? Interesting…