Memory of a 4chan Madman

Short Story

(Of course, this is in a line from Gogol and Lu Xun.)

1

The moon was up and my feet the floor and a white bedraggled robe was written at my desk.  I must do this to save the children.

I rooted around to find my slippers and made my way over to the desk with my computer sitting clearing over the books and papers that were scattered there. I cleared the space for new papers on which to write and my robe caught the edge of the inkjet printer and I had to fight with be robe to get it free.

Then my blood pressure fell as I entered in through the browser the world which truly was rather than this fake world of clothes and piles of paper. 4chan is calling to me because I am an Emperor there. I want all the smoothskin out of my mouth because the oiliness reminds me of the food that my brother brings up. I have to tear it apart because who knows what could be hidden among the greens.

I know that an AI-generated author is stalking someplace and I must come up with a plan to catch them in the act.

Also noch einen Augenblick.

Dass sie mir immer wieder den Strick

zerschneiden.

Neulich war ich so gut bereit

und es war schon ein wenig Ewigkeit

in meinen Eingeweiden.

Rilke stole that from me. Of course, he translated it into German.

My parents were entirely adequate. But they died. How did they leave my brother to watch over me? I suppose stranger things can happen in a Google by Googleplex raised to the Gödel. but you should give me a chance to turn in the right card.

Maybe I should eat but will have to tear apart the food and only eat the greens.

Then I should read Peterson for inspiration on the absurd version.

2

White is so pure I am sorry for being clean like this. It often leads to suicide because of the pain that it causes. All life ends with death. The only real reason to be there is to produce progeny and that will not be my case.

And that reminds me I must get ready for the wake of Finnegan. It is the least I can do to spite my brother. I must not forget either my knife or my glasses - because how can I use my knife if I can’t see where I am? It is heuristically impossible.

But I must be aware of the hands of the Inquisition because it would be a sinful act to land myself in two their clutches. They know how to torture one especially one who has been incell by the excel to the discell degree. I must fight this evening harder than I know what my jailer is putting in my food.

3

I went to the wake and felt such repulsion that almost made me want to commit suicide on the spot of my Savior. How can anyone not know what Mark 2:23-24 says? It almost makes one delirious how they have made science the religion as opposed to the God that we have been promised by the flash of our backs and loins. Don’t they know the most basic rule that when something is said far away and long ago it is more perfect than something said more recently?

It is a sin it is sin it is a sin. I take it into my mouth.

When there was primitive blathering about evolution and the means to improve the base character. I realized that they were hiding the true aspect of what they really wanted to say. I then slunk to be corner and watched each person just to make sure that their delicacy it not towards me. I watched each murderous glare and wondered who would be tasted when it was let out and hungrified. It is one thing to commit suicide by one’s own choice it is completely different if one is sacrificed to a god that does not exist next to the God. It was like watching a tribe of cannibals picking which one would be released into the void.

4

And did not rise tonight, I must open my book on astronomy. Or is it astrology? I am not certain but the lack of the moon filling my eyes was a deep anti-intoxication of the Vicomte de Bragalone with a can of tobacco.

I quietly slipped into my slippers and hunted around the second floor of the large house that the parents had left for my brother. I peeked into his room where he and his young life slept. There were bookshelves loaded with peculiar names which I had forgotten since I left my school. But what I looked I could not find it because the cutlery was downstairs, and I put my foot on the top of the back stairs but could not push myself. I went back to my room and somehow the sun crept through my window and woke me. It is a difficult experience to feel woke and I tried my best to tamp the feeling down.

5

I tore apart the meal that my brother brought because I was sure that there was a new human body out in the garage. I know he wants the two of the meal so I may be one of the converted. The beefy flesh calls to the end I still do not know where his cutlery is. But I used my chopsticks to rend any morsel that looked of meat. There was a long hour where it was pitch black. At that moment I wondered how long humans these have been cannibals. It must go back to Genesis at least.

But at least the waning quarter of the moon shone out.

6

I cannot think about trying to survive. My Empire has collapsed and my flesh rattles on my bone. Perhaps children will rip at my flesh and be one with the matriarchy. I must fight this with every bit of my strength.

The Moon begs me with her silver beams. I must save the children.