Future Home of the Living God(46)
October 12
It happens today, same as before. I stand at the counter, making agonizingly pleasant bullshit small talk with the roundest, most obnoxiously cheerful nurse of them all, Orielee, when behind me the elevator swishes to our floor and stops. The doors open. I know Hiro’s tread and I feel him brush by me. This time I clap an arm down on the pocket of my robe and turn away, shuffle the opposite direction from my room. I make two more corridor walks before going into the bathroom and huddling over my message.
Page 1019
Cured by the Apocalypse?
It is apparent to everyone around me that I am taking perverse pleasure in the contemplation of this massive biological reversal. During the first week that this great symmetricism was revealed, I laughed my head off every night in front of the television. It was not just derision or amusement or outright glee at the reactions of the Know Nothingism nothing Knower creationists, Methodological Naturalists, Anti-Common Descentists, Wedge Strategists, and Macroevolution naysayers who persisted in denying the fundamental elegance and truth of evolution. True, that was very satisfying. It was more. It was awe. In spite of the hardship that a rending of the social fabric might cause for my beloved family, not to mention great unknowns in the area of reverse evolution that will probably result in mass starvation, I was and remain exhilarated. I have started reading Exodus in order to witness the working of the design: 1:18, 2:4, 3:8, 3:18, 3:32, 4:1, 7:18, 7:28, 9:9, 10:6, 13:7, 13:14, 14:11, and 14:19. The opportunity to witness the working of the design unraveling. The sheer thrill of the plan coming to light in each detail. Who says any complexity is irreducible? IT IS BEING REDUCED ALL AROUND US RIGHT NOW. I have the chance each day to marvel at the vast dismantling, and do not want to kill myself so that I can see more of the world’s inner workings.
It should not take a biological apocalypse to cure an Indian man’s depression, but hell, sometimes here is paradise on earth and there are times I just feel great.
Love, Eddy
I read this piece of writing over and over. At first I’m disappointed, then I shiver with anger. Depressives are so selfish, I think, so full of himself he can’t even imagine the danger that I am in. Oh well, if it comes to that, I just met him. What do I expect? But I can’t let go. I keep thinking of that feeling that I had, that true connection. And his visit. I keep trying to figure, trying to understand why Eddy would send me such a self-absorbed message, until eventually, somehow, I know that there must be something else hidden within it. I start looking for words, trying to figure out a code. If only I spoke Ojibwe, this would be easy. Like the old code-talkers. But I’m so deculturated, I think, swamped in a wave of self-pity. I put the letter down. Pick it up again. It takes way too many readings—my brain must be mush. Duh, Exodus! Typical Eddy joke. He never reads the Bible so this must refer to an actual exodus. An escape. And the numbers must be the working of a design.
It isn’t hard to get a Bible in this place. Even the Slider approves of my request and smiles thinly as she hands over The Zondervan Compact Reference Bible.
Exodus 1:18 is about the refusal of midwives to do the bidding of the king of Egypt and kill all male Hebrew babies. I have a panic attack right there. What is Eddy trying to tell me?
And then I realize the numbers don’t line up. He can’t be referencing Exodus. The message isn’t in the words but the numbers.
I take a closer look at every number in Eddy’s letter. For instance, page 1019.
But there are over 3000 pages in Eddy’s book.
It could be a date. It could be the date they are coming to get me. 10/19.
Cured by the Apocalypse?
At last, after the thousandth reading, I see it—the verse numbers refer to the sentence and a specific word in that sentence: 1:18 means the first sentence, eighteenth word. I use the code to mark the right words.
It is apparent to everyone around me that I am taking perverse pleasure in the contemplation of this massive biological reversal. During the first week that this great symmetricism was revealed, I laughed my head off every night in front of the television. It was not just derision or amusement or outright glee at the reactions of the Know Nothingism nothing Knower creationists, Methodological Naturalists, Anti-Common Descentists, Wedge Strategists, and Macroevolution naysayers who persisted in denying the fundamental elegance and truth of evolution. True, that was very satisfying. It was more. It was awe. In spite of the hardship that a rending of the social fabric might cause for my beloved family, not to mention great unknowns in the area of reverse evolution that will probably result in mass starvation, I was and remain exhilarated. I have started reading Exodus in order to witness the working of the design: 1:18, 2:4, 3:8, 3:18, 3:32, 4:1, 7:18, 7:28, 9:9, 10:6, 13:7, 13:14, 14:11, and 14:19. The opportunity to witness the working of the design unraveling. The sheer thrill of the plan coming to light in each detail. Who says any complexity is irreducible? IT IS BEING REDUCED ALL AROUND US RIGHT NOW. I have the chance each day to marvel at the vast dismantling, and escape killing myself so that I can see more of the world’s inner workings.
It should not take a biological apocalypse to cure an Indian man’s depression, but hell, sometimes here is paradise on earth and there are times I just feel great.
Love, Eddy
This week or nothing in true family (reverse) design plan to escape Indian Paradise.
So whatever is going to happen, this week I will be in my true family. And wherever I’m going, I believe, it’s Indian Paradise.