the story of the plasmatic cat and the savage cat

the story of the plasmatic cat

and the savage cat

to tell to your parents as you tuck them into bed tonight

once upon a time in a world without clocks and in an age where space enfolds into itself in such a way dimensionality itself becomes animate there live two cats   any notion of pastness or futureness  of time as money  seems to  eluding world  construe them even in its shoutings

the two cats being cats have a pact and this pact is to see which cat can make the other one suicide first   they have developed this agreement in the cesspit of love from which all contracts flow  theyve developed it silently and stealthily  between the meows  but its understood more rigorously than anything theyve meowed   for arent dear parents the things you dont say of far more import than whats said

yet being cats of different constitution their methods to achieve their common goal differ  the savage cat eg tends to rely on its genetous access to the darkest feline spaces of indifference  ground to clawed perfection in the first swirls of the cosmos  a honed strategic and tactical unity of claw and will   the plasmatic cat on the other paw has to rely on disunity  a kind of energy of fragmentation and diffusion  a pervasive sense of nonexistence and immateriality  a charge not of claws and teeth but spider slender strips drifting and stochastic  of one could hardly call it light but darkness somehow visible against masquerades of darkness  a parade of nothing for nothing

as the jurisprudence of cats is unique to themselves and hardly understood among whonyms  whether scientists or those socalled lovers of cats among whonymity who if they knew the souls of what they loved would never recover from the news   so their means of satisfying their law bypasses human comprehensibility

woe to you parents then who participate in the gross deceptions of belief in whonym knowledge  for what it is if you could see is less than a microscopic speck on a barely discernible seed in the gut of a bug in the mouthparts of an odonata in the throat of a hobby in the talons of a bubo virginianus dismembered in the nest of an aquila chrysaetos in the gi tract of a dead ursine in a distant boreal on a little blue planet in a minor solar system in a lesser galaxy in a moderate cluster in an anonymous universe in infinitely nested cosmoi in an empty mind

as all games have as their central strategy a perspicacity of weakness and its this difficult wisdom humans train for and cats dont need to  sav & plaz  lets call them this  are genetically evenly matched  neither needs to think other than that thinking that bacteria does for us

but as each discovers and attacks  bringing the other toward death but not into it  but in looking at death and so seeing weakness  each incorporates the newly visible into itself  inviting the other to manifest new mortal simulations

so this game of death only serves to make suicide a game  and the cats though they die do not  from the love of game and the necessity of transformation

and this dear parents is the play between you and us

and with this knowledge dream and sleep

and the children of the world shall live

and they tuck their parents in and kiss them nightynight

and give them their worn stuffed animal called nooz and turn off the light