Tag: Oblivion

The 26th Dimension

Wife gone a long time

The madman’s wife had been gone a long time and he didn’t know where she was. 

When he told some people he figured she was in oblivion they shook their heads and told him she was not in oblivion, she was in Heaven. 

The widower, an avid researcher as his future obit would note, looked up the only Heaven he had heard of and in fact the only one that appeared to exist — Heaven, Texas — and after checking the populace he could tell you, as he told the angelic head-shakers, his wife was not in Heaven, Texas.

Wife gone a long time

Just for the hell of it, as absurd and unnecessary as it was, he decided to check out the only hell he knew — Hell, Michigan — and of course his wife was not there as he knew she wouldn’t be. She was a good person. Sure, she drank a lot and smoked a lot of grass, but there was no way in hell his wife wasn’t a good person.

Wife gone a long time

Then someone told him she was in Paradise. Well, dammit, there were twenty-seven Paradises in America. He set to it. And over several days he checked all the Paradises through various means available on the Internet (some for which he had to take out a subscription) and what he found out was that his wife wasn’t in any of them.

So it was back to square one, or as he put it, circle one, as in the big O.

Wife gone a long time

Then, what do ya know, he found it. In the year 3031, on a planet millions of light years from Earth, there is a town called Oblivion. Someone even made a totally forgettable movie about it in 1994, called, not so slyly, Oblivion, a film that slipped by him and just about everyone else like a distant comet in the night.

Okay, so this was where he would direct all his mental energy. It would be difficult. It would require going through a wormhole. He bought a bunch of books on wormholes and rented several episodes of the TV series Through the Wormhole narrated by Morgan Freeman. He was reading those books and watching that series for weeks. He had the empty liquor bottles to prove it.

Not to leave a stone unturned, he went out into his backyard and turned over a stone and unearthed an earthworm. Sure enough, the earthworm scurried down a wormhole. The avid researcher studied the wormhole but no clue was to found there.

It was five o’clock. He went back inside the house and entered into another consultation with Jack Daniels.

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The silence of the gunshot

Paying for our sinsDrawing by Franz Kafka

We are shut in and shut out. Perhaps we are paying for our sins. Sins against our wives and husbands, fathers and mothers, sons and daughters. And they, at least the ones who are still alive, are paying for their sins against us. A harsh penalty for all, but maybe we deserved it.

Many of us are in solitary confinement. The isolation is the hardest to bear. In total despair, you take the gun from the drawer. Young beautiful girls and boys who have only begun to live. Loneliness can be worse than death. Death becomes instant release. You don’t even hear the gunshot. You will see your dead loved ones before the gun falls from your hand.

Or you won’t. That’s the chance you take. If you don’t see them you won’t know it. That’s the fail-safe feature of the ungodly plan, so we don’t exist in an eternity of misery. The Godly plan has a different outcome. You can read about it in the Bible. Millions have. Millions believe in the Godly plan.

Belief in the Godly plan requires faith, and faith is the most elusive creature in the human psyche. Even if you think you’ve got it by the tail, it’s hard to hold onto. It’s Jehovah’s jackrabbit.

You could spend all your days and weeks and months and years in isolation just trying to grab hold of that jackrabbit.

If you do manage to get a firm grasp on it, hang onto it for dear life. It will take you home, and all the isolation and the loneliness in the ungodly world will be but a moment in hell.

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