Mein Gott - the beetle returns

What do you mean "it's all in the mind", Merry?

Merry is never one to waste words on the unbeliever. In any case, actions speak louder than words, but what happens if you break the consensus and do something beyond the limits of what's generally deemed acceptable?

Like this.

Do you have to Merry – you know I don't like that kind of thing.

What kind of thing?

Magic.

Field exercises.

That's what you call it. Sounds so innocent – like a geography field trip.

That's all it is really. Just exercises outside the usual the frame of reference – within the broader quantum field which All-this nestles within.

I wouldn't mind Merry, if it didn't make me feel so queasy.

Yes – we're engaging the wave form so not surprisingly the stomach is affected, like on a boat.

Oh God. I do so hate that feeling.

Then let it go. It's only freaking you out because you're desperate to hold on to All-this, and to what end? 

Because it's familiar, I suppose.

Yes. Familiar, like a rotten, stinking pair of socks.

Do you have to be so tasteless?

The day the truth becomes tasteless is a sad one indeed. Come on Zie, we don't have time for this bullshit. The ship is going down. It’s time for a little dose of reality, or I'm out of here.

What do you mean? You can't just go.

Can't?

Well, that would be a betrayal.

Hmm... I'm here for a purpose. Either we're engaging that purpose or I'm, by definition, not here.

Oh, if you have to put it like that.

You've outgrown the cosy womb of 3D reality Zie.

Who, me?

You and the rest of your partners in collective delusion.

I don't see why you have to be so dark and ominous, Merry.

No, there's nothing ominous in pointing out the simple truth. 9 months is up. It's time for a spot of eschatology.

Escha-what?

Eschatology. The end of things.

Oh crikes. If that's not ominous then I don't know what is.

Have you not being paying the least attention throughout these seminars, Zie?

Er... to the best of my ability.

The veil of delusion has given you a false sense of security. The babe in the womb has just such a veil which allows it to imagine it can stay inside forever, which in fact it can – there's always the possibility, but at the same time, come 9 months it's either make or break.

Can... can’t – which is it, Merry? Make up your mind. It can't be both.

Can't, and yet it is. Wheel within a wheel; dream within a dream: there really is no limit to what is possible within the meandering-straightness of infinity.

Oh, how absurdly contradictory.

I assure you, Zie, that insisting things must conform to your present template is going to make you hugely seasick. Have a little mercy on yourself. 

Mercy? 

Or pity.

Pity? Do you threaten me?

It ain't going to be pretty if you insist on defending your present template to the bitter end. The more you hang on to it for dear life, the more your dear life's going to feel like it's being torn from you.

Jesus Christ, Merry, I wish you wouldn't scare me like this. You know it's no joking matter.

No, so let's get serious for a moment. Playtime is over. It's time to troop back into the classroom for a spot of workie-work.

Oh... if we must.

We? I'm neither here nor there. It's my turn to step back for a while.

What do you mean?

I was the human-seeming face to ease you into the transition. Now my job is done.

Done? You can't leave me.

So you like to insist, but there's a problem with me being around.

?

I'm too cosy and comfortable for you. There's a certain rudeness and brutality to this transition you're now undergoing – a bit like a transplant operation. It involves a ripping away of veils; the removal and replacement of things you've come to imagine as untouchable. That requires a different kind of touch – the nanny is being replaced by the school teacher. There'll be no cuddles or treats for a while. Not until you've thoroughly uprooted your id.

My what?

Id. 

What on earth's that supposed to be?

You'll find out soon enough.

Give me a clue, Merry. You know I hate suspense.

Your core thingness – what you are, in essence.

Oh God. This is going from bad to worse. Motion sickness. Wave forms. An uprooted id.

And a giant beetle.

Mein Gott!

You said it. It's time for the ultimate Mein Gott experience.

With a beetle in tow.

In tow? 

Accompanying me.

I don't think you understand, Zie.

Understand what?

The nature of “Mein Gott”.

It's just an expression, Merry, describing a mind-blowing experience.

That may be true in normal circumstances, but we're discussing something different here.

We are?

Yes. 

Er... what precisely?

THE Mein Gott experience.

Oh – you mean it's the big one – for real – is it. Escha-whatammy.

-tology.

Escha-whatology.

Yes, more or less. 

But the beetle – how does that fit into the picture?

It doesn't “fit in”.

Then why introduce it in the first place? I wish you'd be more rational.

It blows open the picture. It is the picture – the bigger picture – the one that dissolves all others – the alpha omega – be all and end all.

Mein Gott.

Absolutely.

You mean to say that God is actually a beetle?

Yep.

But...

Yes. I know. 

I... 

Let me guess – you're going to be sick? 

Merry quickly produces a bucket and places it in front of Zie who proceeds to empty the contents of his stomach, gut and beyond into it.

When you've quite finished retching up the contents of every meal you've ever eaten, Zie, I think it's time you dealt with this somewhat overdramatic reaction to the humble Beetle that is God.

No! Don't say it. I... I don't want to hear another word. Oh Christ – I'm going to be sick...

Again?! You really are making this as hard for yourself as possible, aren't you? Oh dear, if you must, you must!

[Puking noises]

I mean – it's only a Beetle.

No! Don't say another word.

Listen Zie, you need to deal with this shocking specieism. You can't insist you're an enlightened, modern-thinking man, who's dealt with the old prejudices – racism, sexism, and continue freaking out just because God's a beetle.

[More disgusting retching sounds]

There really is a limit to how many buckets a person can fill with vomit – or there should be. I'm sure Planck's constant comes into it somewhere.

Evidently we're in non-linear territory here.

Evidently so. You seem to have accessed the time vortex. Well that's good – you're making progress at last! An endless stream of vomit and you're finally coming to your senses. You have the proof right in front of you. 72 buckets of it.

Oh thanks a million Merry. I can't believe you can be so insensitive.

And I can't believe you can be so bilious. But, be that as it may, we've actually arrived at an important juncture.

We have?

Yes, you seem to have found your sea legs. 

My what?

Your sea legs. The quantum field is all but open to you. You're no longer bound by linear time. If I'm not very much mistaken, we can expect a visitation any moment now.

No... please Merry. I... I can't face meeting God in the form of a beetle.

I know, it's too shocking, isn't it?

Zie looks uncertainly at Merry – not sure he understands whether Merry is being serious or not.

Shocking, shocking, shocking – but did you ever give it any thought?

Deep rumbles coming from inside Zie's spleen, gall bladder, duodenum and other vital organs.

I mean – sooner or later it'll just pop up in front of you...

Please! – Zie whimpers, pleadingly.

Please? Please what? Do you really imagine eternity is going to wait forever? Do you?

Please – I beseech you.

Please? Like we can just endlessly kick infinity further down the road, like a battered old can. Do you have any idea how morally bankrupt, how utterly pointless such a...

Please!

Merry starts grinning wickedly – looking closely into Zie's distorted face.

Ah ha – you've arrived.

No... No... I can't be there. I'm not thinking about anything. I don't know what you're talking about.

Hee hee – you're there. I saw the ripple in your energy field. It has come to pass.

No... I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just... just... everything's quite normal and...

You see, dearest Zie, your body wouldn't be freaking out like this just because of a beetle – would it. I mean – what difference does it make? would it make – if God was a beetle, a tree, or a flower for that matter. These are just forms, are they not?

No, Merry. You don't need to go on. I know what you're going to say. I... 

You've seen it have you? Amazing isn't it? I mean – who would have thought?

You've tricked me all along.

Moi? I protest.

You always knew. You've been pretending all along – to be my friend, my guide...

When really I'm your executioner? Is that what you mean?

I... 

Yes, you are truly amazing at taking histrionics to an entirely new order of magnitude. Congratulations Zie. And I thought I was bad when I dissolved the veil.

You did what?

What you're doing now. Dissolving the veil. Facing the inner beetle.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I... I... I...

I think he's going to die. Er... Zie... You're going to die – I mean explode, if you continue taking yourself so immensely seriously. I mean – I'm all for a bit of overacting – but wiping blood and body parts off walls, ceiling, floor – isn't my thing. Perhaps you could go outside, in that case, and explode in the garden.

What garden? We're in a city apartment.

Mein Gott. Will he never learn? Time, space, form, place – where's a good scarab beetle when you need one. Click click click click – Merry starts making beetle noises and moving round in a way that looks suspiciously – no – frighteningly beetle-like.

Shit. Shit. Shit... Zie seems to be losing it – hyper-ventilating and apparently losing control of his bowels at the same time. Yuk.

Fortunately beetles don't mind the smell of diarrhea – Merry grimaces – as he shape shifts. 

Zie crashes to the ground – landing in a puddle of diarrhea. My apologies for the brutal honesty of this journal entry – but I assure you we'll clear it all up if we make it to the end of the chapter.

You see – Zie – unzipping time has opened what the Greek's called Pandora's box – presumably because they weren't yet ready to work with the quantum field and embrace the magical mystery of the beetle which is hiding within each of us.

The beetle within each of us – and this is the “Mein Gott” moment you were referring to unwittingly. 

Well, where do you think God was going to be hiding? The ancient Egyptians weren't completely stupid, you know.

Oh.

In fact, they weren't actually ancient Egyptians – that's just how modern man prefers to see them from his deep state of delusion or denial. Now, you'll notice that you're feeling a lot better.

And it is true.

Because by the time you're able to see the inner beetle – the God within me – you've finally or already accepted the God within yourself. In fact, little beknownst to yourself – you now look the same as me.

I do?

Well – not as beautiful – and you're covered in shit – but essentially yes. So, if you're ready – it's time for a spot of anti-gravity and field lines-manship. Let's go.

And off they fly on their first joint exercise into the quantum field beyond Mein Gott.