A Time To Die

Last year was horrible. Horrible, awful, dreadful, sickening, frightening…I can’t think of many positive things to describe it except that we had a cool summer and a real winter for the first time in ages, and then–AT LAST– the year was OVER.

In May my cat died of cancer. I had been sober since September 2012, but his death sent me over the edge. He was my constant companion for ten years, and losing him was like losing my child. I spent the next several months swimming in grief and vodka. During that time I suffered a concussion from a serious fall, broken bones, and then, the crowning blow: I was diagnosed with Pick’s Disease, which will slowly, painfully kill me within a few years.

Since then, in a futile attempt to fight this affliction, I have changed my diet. I’m a vegan–with one exception: I am allowed two alcoholic drinks a night. I cut out the vodka and all medication, even OTC, except for my prescription Xanax (for panic; the diagnosis makes me afraid to sleep). My drink of choice is red Bordeaux. I know it isn’t vegan, or even vegetarian, but it is my only vice now.

No excuses, only apologies. To consume the product of or the flesh of ANY creature that died before its time to feed the greedy human masses is WRONG. Humans are exactly like cockroaches. Both reproduce squirming larvae, devour each other and shit all over creation. Cockroaches, however, are innocent. I do not kill them because they can’t help being who they are. But I’m starting to believe that Earth was colonized by aliens and that humans were not part of the planet’s original design, which is why it tries to kill us off with plagues and extreme weather. We have killed most of Earth’s original animal, insect, and plant inhabitants, and by so doing, we are killing our own nasty species, which is FINE with me.

Pick’s Disease is going to kill me, and I deserve it. We all deserve to die. I hope we do, before every beautiful thing left here is destroyed by the insatiable greed of land developers, oil/gas tycoons, pesticide/herbicide companies, and so forth. We are all monsters. Even those of us who care about what happens to what’s left of the wilderness still leave our carbon footprints behind, killing whatever lies beneath them. The best thing we can do for this planet is to eliminate the human race by whatever means are necessary.

George Carlin predicted that Earth will shake us off like a bad case of fleas. I hope he was right.