The Newtown Pentacle

Altissima quaeque flumina minimo sono labi

abnormally impassive

with 2 comments

Thursday

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Nothing matters, and nobody cares. The cogs of fate spin, and the inevitability is doom, so all you’ve got is now. Rejoice in the end of all things, as morals and reason are cast aside in the name of enjoying yourself. Find new ways to do so, with pleasures profane and ribald. Drink it. Eat it. Smoke it. Screw it. Swim in it. Do whatever you like. Do whatever feels good and damn the cost. Nothing matters, and nobody cares. More. More. More. That’s what Lucifer, with its mantra of free will, would tell you.

This whole sociopathic thing with me started with the Murder Hornets, remember that? Turns out that the medical world doesn’t use “sociopath” these days, and instead prefer the term “Antisocial Personality Disorder.” I stick with the dictionary version of the word, which indicates “extreme antisocial attitudes and behavior and a lack of conscience.” That’s a goal state for me. Imagine it… no conscience.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Since childhood I’ve always known that someday I’d be a doomsday prophet in Times Square, walking around with one of those sandwich boards that reads “The end is nigh.” I always imagined that I’d be wearing a spaghetti colander as a helmet, though. I’ve got the black sack cloth clothing, the wild look in the eye, all that. Call me Mitchathustra, for my whole life has led towards destitute doomsayer and troglodyte cave dweller. Tissue boxes make for good slippers, I’ll attest.

So, how’s about Christmas, huh? Ring ting tingling. There’s puppies. Lighten up, Bro, what d’ya say? Buzzkill. So dark.

Really, the healthiest thing to do at the moment is to just accept the fact that nothing matters and nobody cares. Any other point of view is simply shambolic and somewhat adolescent.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Lovecraft opined in “The Call of Cthulhu” that “Mankind would have become as the Great Old Ones; free and wild and beyond good and evil, with laws and morals thrown aside and all men shouting and killing and revelling in joy. Then the liberated Old Ones would teach them new ways to shout and kill and revel and enjoy themselves, and all the earth would flame with a holocaust of ecstasy and freedom.

Of course, Lovecraft was a pretty ugly guy when you get down to it. Vicious racism, upper classism, and a host of other personality defects are preserved in his writing. Saying that, he certainly called out what the dissolution of American society would look like.

Happy Thursday, lords and ladies.


“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle


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Written by Mitch Waxman

December 16, 2021 at 11:30 am

2 Responses

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  1. Eeeek, you’re right. This is how one feels when one seems to be objecting into nothingness. When one is invisible. When one’s vote doesn’t count…(projecting future feeling). Though no one cares about how devastated one is.
    When democracy sinks under and only ripples are left on the surface

    Jaye Haviland

    December 16, 2021 at 12:43 pm

  2. You purport the end is nigh. Is that “nigh” anyway related to Louie Nye?

    georgetheatheist . . . hi-ho steverino

    December 16, 2021 at 1:02 pm


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