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Saturday, March 12, 2011

emotions (flats and tubulars III)

(flats and tubulars I) (flats and tubulars II)

This here – you see – that’s your heart. You don’t fool around with this thing. This is your engine, this is where life is automated, where it begins and ends. Its status is unrivaled. There is even mythology amongst humans that it is the main transport hub of emotions.

Of what?

e-MO-tions. We’ll get to that, sergeant...

Now, this here, your liver, it’s an unseemly thing – it looks a lot like some of our waterborne entities back home, don’t you think? – but it does critical work. It extracts substances from the body, substances that, if accumulated, would kill you deader than a hammer. It’s not the heart – in the hierarchy of organs – but it’s damn important anyway –

Wow, what was that!?

That, sergeant, is just one of many fluid discharges. This one you saw is the most regular but perhaps the least important, even if its yellow color and spray-arc are impressive. There are many more fluids secreted, ejaculated, expelled, and so forth; and there are also some fluids better kept in the body. This red stuff, for instance, you lose too much of that and again kill you deader than a hammer.

You like that expression, don’t you sir?

I do. Now, before I forget, there may be an occasion when you receive a secretion from this, your pineal gland – right here, in the center of your head. It is possible you will experience this as a rush of godliness, of transcendence, but I must remind you – firmly, sergeant that you are not a god, not here, not amongst these Men. You must not forget that. It is perhaps the most important information I give you today. You are not a god. Is that understood, sergeant?

Yes.

Yes, what?

Yes, sir.

Good. OK. Now, except for visits to the lavatory, which I showed you how to carry out, you will not have to worry your head too much about these secretions and all this hydrology. It is all self-regulating. This means you can spend all your time, all your waking hours, in the business of being conscious, of being self-aware… Sergeant! Sergeant, wipe that smile off your face. Sergeant! Do you imagine, sergeant, this will be recreational in nature, sergeant? Do you expect to be entertained, sergeant? Do you expect sergeant, that all of this is for the sergeant’s personal amusement?

No, sir!

Good! Now listen to me carefully. Listen to me very carefully. You are, for all practical purposes, unschooled; your training is, I’m sorry to say, laughable – a one day excursion to an uninhabited Pacific isle. For this reason, sergeant, mark my words, your experience will be as follows: you will be treading a tight rope; on your right will be self-indulgence, self-aggrandizement, self-glorification, complete delusion, sergeant; and gaping to your left – equally abysmal – self-abasement, self-nullification – the opposite; everything will be paired, you’ll see. And, even if you make it, sergeant, the risk that you will degenerate in some fashion is high. These – all that I am telling you – these are the base writhings of Man. No matter if you are male or female, you’ll have no recourse but to deal with this... And all of it will begin right… here.

WOOOW!

Did you feel that, sergeant?

YES!

And that, did you feel that, sergeant?

Yes.. YES SIR!

These, sergeant, these are sensations. You will receive these practically in a continuous stream. There is no way to switch this off. You’ll have to manage five channels every waking moment of the day. These signals do not stop, it’s a goddamn carnival. It drove me practically crazy. Sound – this one here – you will find especially disturbing. Its persistence. Dogs will bark, infants will cry, machinery will rattle, and all of it will be sensed by you whether you like it or not.

But it will be the least of your troubles, sergeant. The real trouble lies elsewhere. The real trouble is non-material, its source uncertain, and yet it is all pervasive, like an overlay on all human life. At times it will force cries of joy from your mouth, at others, water will stream down your face inexplicably. These, sergeant, these are emotions.

Ah, you mentioned those earlier sir, you said –

Shut up, sergeant. Shut up and feel… this!

Holy God! STOP!

Sergeant. This is your heaviest baggage. Correction: it is not heavy, and nor is it light. It is both. It can be weightless or heavy as lead. You will be mystified by the vastness this pallet. There are not five, there are hundreds, thousands; they twin up in pairs and triplets, they wrap themselves around kin-sensations to form permutations; they command not by word, but by intensity alone, so the gradation is endless. You will not comprehend the multi-layered and at times seeming deceitfulness of these, but you will understand why some humans are governed by their emotions, completely and utterly, and why some keep them tight in an iron grip of will. But none are immune. And nor will you be.

As I mentioned, there is mythology that emotions are connected in some way to the heart. But between you and me, sergeant, this is propaganda; an effort to ennoble the emotion, to give it a cachet it does not always deserve. In truth, these emotions seem to originate in a part of the body much uglier even than the liver: the stomach, sergeant. Right here.

I thought this was a digestive pouch?

It is. But it makes sense. You will understand.

Now sergeant, I cannot guarantee that these emotions will not sometimes get the better of you. In fact, it is almost certain that they will. All I can hope for is that you will be able to exercise enough self-control, because if you do not, you will fall… at first only on a personal level, but eventually you will fall publicly, shamefully, and, in the worst case, into the hands of the law. And then, sergeant, if this happens, I will not be able to do anything for you. Their system of justice is opaque and their enforcers maniacal. I do not wish to scare you sergeant, but you must go easy the first few weeks, that’s all. Go easy.

To conclude. I’m sure you are anxious to know what you will be. I will tell you now. You will be a male, a tubular as we call them. We deliberated at length and we decided you will be safer as a tubular. Tubulars are less impulsive – so they say – and physically stronger, albeit at times rather stupid. As for the tubular itself – this appendage here – I must ask you to keep your hands off of it for a while, at least until you have understood the mores of the land. If you don’t, if you insist on acting out every goddamn impulse, as some have done, you will not last. I guarantee it. Is that understood?

Yes sir.

Ok. Now, one last thing. These sensations, these emotions, together, they will envelop you, enthrall you, send you up in a whirlwind. You will be enchanted and you will feel godly in a way that you have never experienced before. It will seem easy and, in some respect, more authentic. You will see. I will not be able to restrain this in you, but I do ask this: never allow yourself to forget who you are or where you came from, sergeant. Do not ever forget. We do not want to lose you. We have lost one already, and even one is too much.

You mean, Lui.

Yes, sergeant, Lui Labas.