The Bullshit Manifesto
The explorations and musing upon the topic of Bovine Fecology, the moving and manifestation of Bullshit in culture and society.
What the hell is this anyway?
The Bullshit Manifesto is a collection of metaphorical essays and random observations on the nature and variation of bullshit. It is a catalog of musings on the types and taxonomies of bovine excrement laid bare and spread out for your perusal. We’ll tag this the study of Bovine Fecology, and I, am The Bullshit Guy, armchair Bovine Fecologist, and amateur Asshologist.
Be advised that I make judicious use of the “F” word and other crude vernacular. Nothing adds emphasis like well-placed fuck or a timely shit. Get over it.
Of ancient Chinese curses and interesting times…
We live in interesting times.
There is more bullshit banging around the mortal sphere than ever before. I think it’s a population thing. There are more humans, ergo there is more bullshit. But the introduction of connected technology, which is starting to evolve a collective consciousness of its own, has thrown the Human/Bullshit balance way the fuck out of whack.
I’m thinking future historians may refer to us as living in the Age of Viral Bullshit, likely to end in BS overload and be followed by a Time of Asshole Madness. Has happened before. Only now we have an economy of scale.
Hopefully, these missives are a harbinger of awareness that it is really is all bullshit. And that we are steeped in it from cradle to coffin, and for that awareness to piss us off enough to look at the world and the others in it a little differently. Instead of letting our own bullshit, or the bullshit of others either guide what we think or just keep us pissed off and reacting.
Perhaps even think different enough to, if not restore the bullshit balance, then to at least stave off the collapse of civilization until I am good and dead of old age at 111. That would work for me too.
A world of bullshit
These are treatises on topics ranging from dark and dire to the absurd and ridiculous, often all at once. And there is crafty world-crafting in them, a universe with a storyline and a swell set of actors representing a small sampling of humans and their bullshit.
The people of Bullshit
Every story needs a cast of heroes and villains, and ours are divided up into:
- Assholes – Bullshit producers. Bigger the asshole, more the bullshit. Add wealth and power? Exponential bullshit. For example, Agnes the neighborhood co-op lady and rising star at the Federal Bureau of Rules and Things. Remember how you used to could buy toothpaste on your FSA and now you can’t? Agnes.
- The Average – Most of us: just fall somewhere in between. like the Crandalls.
- Decent Human Beings (DHB) – Rarest of creatures, People who have gained full control of their inner asshole to the point they actually reduce the amount of bullshit banging around the universe. Mother Theresa. She was a swell DHB. A thing to aspire to. So is Deloris, an old hippie lady with 42 cats whose visitations lie ahead.
And it is with this merry band and others representing all the various points between we will ponder the meaning of bullshit.
The Cosmology of Bullshit
In this imaginary universe where humans are a magical melding of cosmic-spark and meatbot, reincarnation happens. Hey. My universe. I can put whatever metaphysical frameworks I want there. And in this case, the mystery of birth and rebirth is handled by a big fucking bureaucracy in the sky, or rather the fifth dimension.
Bullshit Central. It’s where all the bullshit stops and sometimes gets a good running start.
Sparks are drawn forth from the source and placed in a queue awaiting meatbot assignment. Their journey lifeward interrupted at the Universal Department of Spark Services, AKA, Bullshit Central. It’s where all the bullshit stops and sometimes gets a good running start. It is here incoming sparks:
- Have a file started. Yup, bullshit really does go on your permanent record.
- Are assigned to a meatbot. No, the Spark does not get a choice or voice in the matter.
- Issued a Bullshit Bag. Complete with bullshit already in it to start the spark on it’s way.
A Bureaucracy for the Beyond
Bullshit Central, like most Universal Agencies, is generally not all that fucking helpful during the whole meatbot integration process.
- Item A: the Spark has no choice whatsoever in the meatbot lotto. Best hope is that the Caseworker takes a shine and the spark draws a meatbot in a civilized country, like the Netherlands. Piss off the Caseworker and you might be headed for the Central African Republic. Or handed a meatbot with factory defects as karma points to a crack mommy.
- Item B: the Spark is never informed that the point of the exercise is to graduate to Decent Human Being. The Spark has to get that info on its own. Which is why some sparks have been banging through the system since woolly mammoths walked the earth. “Yep, there’s Jeffrey.” “He’s such an old soul… and somehow, still an asshole.”
And then the meatbot breaks
In the end, the meatbot breaks and the Spark is sucked back up to the Return Desk and goes through a performance assessment with the Caseworker. This is when the contents of the Bullshit Bag is reviewed and discussed and the spark sent on its way to Spark Reprocessing, where it awaits reassignment to a fresh meatbot, or escorted on through the faintly glowing door on the other side of the caseworker’s office once the spark graduates to Decent Human Being. Nobody is sure whats back there, but rumors hint that it’s the employment offices for Bullshit Central.
Bullshit Central is also filled with delightful denizens, many met before in the mythologies of yore. Who else would the Cosmos tap for Caseworkers?
Endeth the Intro
That’s a gloss overview of the world and people of The Bullshit Manifesto and I am the Bullshit Guy. Anonymous, sort of, verbose, certainly, and ever grateful that the cosmos decided to let me in on the joke, and of course, share it with you!
If I use subjective pronouns such as “we”, “you”, and “us” throughout this writings it is simply because the Universe of Bullshit so closely resembles our own that I keep getting them mixed up in my head.
Welcome to the Bullshit Manifesto.