Friday, February 17, 2012

I Hung My Head

Today, as I was lumbering around the city, trying to find something to do, I started to feel doubts gnawing at my mind, the same doubts that have been gnawing at me since I pushed Royal off that balcony. Was the voice that told me to kill him the voice of God, the voice of the monster or...was it all me? Did I kill him because it was God's work or because I wanted revenge and then rationalised it to myself?

Just as I was about to break down, I looked up and saw I was outside a church. It was named after St. Edward the Confessor. Divine providence or contrived coincidence? It's hard to say but I went in anyway, found a confessional and told the priest everything. I told him about killing Royal, the monster and the voice I heard in my dreams. He seemed very perplexed about the whole thing and suggested that I seek medical help but eventually agreed to lead me in the Rite. It made me feel a bit better, but I don't know if it helped me reach any kind of clarity.


  1. And if you'll look to your left on our guided tour of hell, you'll see a two-faced sack of shit. Well, I can hear you all thinking, "Doesn't he look like a veritable moral pillar of a fragmented community?"

    Nope.avi, because what we have here is a very special type of troll, in the Latin 'douchebaggerus trollia'

    Because he is so far committed to living his life so peacefully, so virtuous that he even named his outlet to the world as a committment to his valiant belief.

    And to be fair, to a small degree, he has lived up to it. Why if it were me who was confronted by the killer of a loved one, I'd probably have done something about it. But you didn't! You just stood there and let it happen. That is the real moral fiber of the pacifist or whatever the hell you're pretending to be this week.

    Oh what's that? Oh, you hurt him? Oh...

    But it was in the heat of the moment right? I mean you were panicked about your love interest, and had to get him away from...


    Oh, so surely the Faceless thing was involved. You didn't want to, but things were out of your control, so you...


    Oh I see, snuck up behind him, and shoved him off a balcony.

    Premeditated. Murder.

    So in the end, Sufjan McTroll shows us that firstly, you never need practice what you preach, because fuckall, and secondly, that an accidental death caused by an alien horror is apparently MUCH worse than a premeditated sneak attack murder all in the name of your own personal justice.

    This right here is why I hate you.

    1. At least I have the moral fibre to admit that I chose to do what I did and the modesty to at least consider that I might have done wrong, as opposed to being such an immoral bastard that I don't even stop to wonder if maybe I haven't taken the best path in my life, while blaming a distant monster for all my personal problems, down to and including the fact that I killed my girlfriend by choice and can't fucking deal with it.

    2. Pfft you're no better than me, you can claim the high horse all you want, you pissant, but you chose a perfectly lucid moment to be a killer.

    3. So did you, I just have the balls to admit it.