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
