Thing-ification, come in
Tuesday, September 26th, 2006“There are harmless reifications, class” , I heard him say. I actually agreed with him about that (like I always do in his class). I packed up my things in high spirits thinking that my day was not at all wasted. Toying with the thought about fetishism and reification, I began making up things in my mind—‘objectifying’ any abstract concept that I could think of. This is funny, I said to myself, utterly convinced that perhaps, my sci-fi fanatic-pervert-‘memetic’ professor actually makes sense. Yes, there are harmless reifications. I thing-ified God. I thing-ified Love. Harmless reifications… harmless reifications. It was funny deliberately repeating the phrase like a mantra.
I didn’t know moments after that I’d be learning how to reify Death.
Perhaps I watched too much horror flicks when I was a kid that the image of Grim Reaper with the scythe has then become my unwary imagery of the idea of “death” (deathness, you might comment). He has been donning that same black cloak for days and days, I guess. I wondered if he gets to change his cloak, that is, if he even has another pair.
And I thought Grim Reaper only exists in my imaginings (and in those horror films which can’t even differentiate what’s hilarious and scary). But just today, I met the real thing. I think he was so drunk he forgot to put on his cloak. Yes, he still bears his scythe, but unlike in movies, Grim Reaper, this time, is in fact, extremely scary.
I had enough of it that I don’t want to re-live the experience again. If there is really one thing that I really wanna do now, then that would be going to Dr. Howard Mierzwiak and have every bit of that memory removed from me (yeah, and I feel like Clementine!). Then perhaps transfer those memories to that worthless walking savage who’s responsible of that memory. And I so wish those memories will begin to have lives of their own. They’ll reproduce and multiply, reproduce and multiply…until he chokes with it. It’s a sweet revenge… him choking with the terrible memories he himself had created on me. Literally choking. God, what can be funnier than that.
If I am to thing-ify Death? Well, he is that lowest form of vermin who scared off the friends I damn treasure… he is that uncivilized bastard who almost got us killed… the savage who is no different from a beast.
Then Death is a tangible object now, yes nothing but an “object”. Go get a shrink, Death. You need some major fixing.
