The following comes from a credible witness. We have excluded
details the witness was not entirely certain about. The man now covered head to
toe and through and through with vile cancers, moving under their compulsion, journeyed
through odd passages until finally arriving at the gates of paradise. The sight
of them filled him with anguish as he was forced to recall vividly the two times
God opened the gates and willed the man to enter, asking only that he destroy
everything absolutely of himself first. Failing to do so both times and having
to watch those gates crash closed haunted him nightmarishly now. From outside
the perimeter where he stood he could hear squeals and grunts of utter delight
made by the paradisians inside. But all he himself could feel was the sickness and
unbearable discomfort that his cancerous composition made him suffer each moment
without distraction. Just then a pack of hounds surrounded him. They
too were cancerous creatures, hungering for a cancerous meal. Growling and
drooling they closed in on him. He fell pathetically to the ground, covering
his eyes so not to see the horror to come. With sharp snaps the dogs bit
off chunks of his cancerous tissue, as he writhed in unbelievable agony and
shock. Soon he was chewed down in most places to bare bone. But by some strange
cause all this missing tissue regenerated, but not as cancers, not as normal
flesh, but as extraordinarily dense clusters of raw exposed nerves,
bundled together, making among one another painful mutual contact, sending
signals of excruciating pain into his brain-stem. The hounds, now spying this
new delicacy hesitated not the least to begin chowing on the man's new nerve-bundle flesh. With just one bite alone, a dog would compress and mangle and soon
rip off millions of raw nerve endings, sending a short circuit charge into the
man's brain, while inside his head he felt like a thousand lightning bolts from a
tornado had struck down upon his cerebral tissues. What word can be found to describe
this much pain? The man thought of Dante's inferno and how no circle of hell
rendered pain anywhere as severe as this. Oh how he envied the damned in the
lowest circles of hell. How fortunate to be one of them, to suffer pain that
was at least comprehensible even if unbearable. But this was not the end. As the
dogs kept voraciously consuming his ever regenerating raw nerve-bundle flesh, his
head was pushed and pinned to the side, placing before him a glimpse into
paradise. He saw such exquisite healthy bodies of the paradisians, running to
one another and making unbelievably satisfying love, so indiscreetly and
shamelessly, in all the ways one could desire. He could even see well enough to
make out their love organs, which although taking the normal shape, seemed
composed differently than human anatomy. The same nerve regenerative forces
must have acted on the paradisians' love organs, because they had come to be
densely riddled with raw nerves, as if being made mostly if not entirely of
nerve endings. But when the organs made lustful contact, it gave them pleasure
as extreme as the man's chewed nerve flesh gave him pain. Oh what unbelievable
delight he saw them have as they copulated furiously. Such expressions on their
faces the man never saw anything like.
How divine and extraordinary their pleasure was. He saw it all! And heard it
too! Such sweet, sweet music of love and ecstasy like nothing ever dreamed of on
earth. That was to be his eternal ecstasy! God willed it! Twice no less, God
willed him to have it! But he failed the Will of God and himself and his world.
He failed. All this time the dogs never ceased chewing the man's nerves, while the paradisians gave incredible pleasure to each other. At that moment
the man realized just how limited Dante's vision of hell was. None of the
damned really suffered supremely, not even close, not at all. For none suffered
their painful torment while being forced to observe the inconceivable pleasures
of those in paradise while knowing unmistakably that this pleasure was meant
for themselves to have instead of their excruciating torture. Now, who will dare to
deny that this is certainly true? What? Not even you, O Žižek!?! Not even you!?!
We and
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________ _______ Let's be perfectly Dada --- You mean Fouist?
admitting our songs wereshit our worse the shite of seven
generations however ...
1 week ago
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