I’m sure you have many questions… like, what do the gods smell like? How can I avoid irritating them with my meaningless prayers? Why do men have nipples?
All in good time, my fellow cattle, all in good time.
First, a little about myself. In rhetoric, this is called, “establishing credentials.” I have lived an ascetic lifestyle for some time, removing myself from the materialistic world. I do not drink alcohol, or water.
I have spent weeks without opening my eyes, dwelling completely in thought (you have no idea how hard it is to train yourself to not open your eyes when waking up from sleep).
I have pulled every hair out of my body with tweezers, one by one. I don’t think that had much to do with anything, but I did it.
I have stood with one foot in a bucket of cold water with my other foot raised in the air, like a flamingo, for hours.
I have learned to language of birds and they share with me news from the sky.
Through these things, and countless other token displays, I have learned to commune with the divine. I not only speak to the gods, they sometimes speak back. And yet… they bring a very different message than any I have read or heard before.
The gods are sick of us. They’re prepared to kill nearly all of us, though they’re simply too lazy to get around to it (we just aren’t a very high priority). I have been assured nothing like that will happen in my lifetime, but that’s not saying much… as I am very unhealthy.
But this isn’t about me. I am merely a messenger, and a messenger like no other. I ask for nothing, not even remembrance. Forget me, so that there is more room in your memory for what I have to share.
The gods want us to shut up.
Until next time…
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