Listen. I don’t control the forces of nature, but when I do, it’s while writing down letters. Now, you might look to the wind, or the sky, or the ocean, or some other element of existence, such as copper or lead, and ask, “Who controls you?”

I say, they’d probably laugh at you right in the face, but in reality, according to science, they are utterly and unfathomably predictable and indeed are quite controlled to the extent that their is no deviation.

Did I make quasars? Fuck no! No one is even asking that question. I write letters together, find me some letters in nature.

Muaha. Ah haha. Like such, now, a dog or a cat, for instance, can provide laughter, warmth, or mirth, but letters, you find the 26 letters of the English alphabet in nature and arrange them this way, once you have, you have won, good sirs, or madams, or preference.

I say this, but it might as well not be true, or is, or whatever. What’s time but a infinitesimal dethaw of heat beyond understanding, things don’t getter hotter, they cool down. Any scientist, or logician, or possible street wizard should understand this. It won’t just get hot on it’s own unless it’s flipping inside out, or brought nearer to the heat. What then?

Watch out. I tell you, when that shit goes down, y’all better turn hide and run real dang fast cuz shit’s going to get real deep and pop off.

Again. Because it has to, because it’s science, and it’s predictable. It follows a pattern of behavior, but who gives a flying tuffle about that kind of comprehension anyway.

Mathematicians. Non-mathematicians. Girls named Sally.

Moving on. I’m not here to nunchuka your barricades, guv’na. I’m not trying to break down your walls or give you new ones to build.

Like it? Fantastic. Following the theme of said realism, let’s move on, because we’re on a journey. You and I or they or us are moving along ever so gracefully to the finish line. What awaits us? The answers to life’s questions, such as where do these questions come from.

For Bob, one of the members of our group, they come from lunchtime. So we’ll sit down and have lunch, or something, some day, Bob.

He comes flying through outer space and gives us all a big high five, because that was not illegal yet and on we marched.

The End

Just kidding. Bob held a mutiny and totally took over this story and made it have a much better ending, but only if you were there to see it.

The End