The Truman Show

When I was 10 years old I saw a movie that forever changed my life. The film was titled 'The Truman Show.' It wasn't the acting or plot that really stood out, it was the idea. I can't for the life of me recall any characters names (except Truman I suppose, but I can't remember his first name) or what exactly happens, except that the main character discovers that he is the primary subject of a television social experiment. His life is being viewed every second of the day by people watching all over the world. There are hidden cameras and hired actors playing the roles of the people in his "life." Now I don't generally subscribe to paranoid levels of narcissism, but for 2 weeks after that movie came out I didn't jerk off. 

Ever since seeing that movie I can't help but think that some[thing]one is watching. It might be the only scraps of spirituality I hold on to but there has to be a God, because randomness just isn't this funny. Some moments in life seem too perfect to not have been scripted. Like the person I am talking to is hired to deliver a predetermined line and there is an audience in place to enjoy the transaction. For example [Funny story, I just wrote an exam with the instructions "Do not use any abbreviations (e.g. West instead of W..." I had to laugh like hell. E.g. was a funny contradiction/perfect irony. I was such an asshole that in my essay I used ante meridiem and post meridiem in lieu of AM/PM. I'll probably fail.] I was standing at my minimum wage job (the first job I have ever worked making minimum wage, the new low point of my life) and I finished making a sandwich for a woman. "Ham and Swiss?" "No that's not mine." "Um... The receipt shows me that you ordered a Ham and Swiss. " "That's not what I ordered." "What did you order?" "A Ham and Cheese." "..." That HAD to be staged for the purpose of making an audience laugh. That can't happen in nature. 

Sure I'll suspend disbelief and accept that random energy and mass randomly formed at the exact distance from each other required to create the exact circumstances in which random matter can combine to form complex organisms that one day crawl from the primordial ooze to create increasingly greater and more complex systems of life that eventually transcend from a state of pure primal survival to a civilization that uses tools and is for the most part self aware, but I refuse to believe that a woman (who is the product of 13.75 ± 0.17 billion years of perfect circumstance) could, with a straight face, have this argument with me [lunch break from room 12A?]. It amazes me that our species can possess such amazing technological advancements yet remain inexplicably retarded. And no, I'm not being too hard on this poor woman for making a simple mistake that swiss (swiss cheese) is cheese because upon telling her that swiss cheese was the cheese on her sandwich she gave me the dirtiest look I have ever had directed at me. In her eyes burned the contempt and disgust for my existence. Such hate for my inferiority could only be likened to the what the ubermensch felt toward the untermensch. But I digress too much. 

Technology = great. I can't wait until cloning technology is perfected. The first day I can go to a kiosk and get a perfect replica of myself will be a joyous occasion. Now beyond all of the obvious benefits of clone ownership (walking bag of spare parts without any chance of organ rejection or blood type conflicts and a lobotomized clone slave army for the purpose of manual labour/world domination) there is still the holy grail of clone application; sex. Now, I am fucking gorgeous and the only person who even comes close in comparison to the majesty of my attractiveness is the man who lives in the mirror. Who wouldn't want to fuck me? Not me. I know what you're thinking, "But Mike, you are a man. Therefor your clone will be a man and two men having sex is an abomination in the eyes of God." True. Except it's not just any man you might find at an anonymous gay casual sex dance party night club, it's me (who you incidentally might find at an anonymous gay casual sex dance party night club). Having sex with yourself is by definition masturbation (I didn't look that up). So having sex with your clone is just as gay as masturbation. Which isn't gay. Except that time I got it in my mouth. 

Think of a being entirely devoted to the realization of the height of your sexual pleasure, equipped with the knowledge of everything that you find pleasurable. It would perform any action no matter how sick, twisted, disgusting, and unsanitary, even if those actions constitute a serious attack on human dignity, or a grave humiliation or degradation of human beings, and are an infringement of human rights. It would perform such tasks without embarrassment and wouldn't need weeks of convincing, alcohol and cocaine to do so. The point of all this is that even when I am in a room all by myself, I will wave to a camera that isn't there and say something cheesy (ham and swiss lol) after doing something embarrassing, just in case someone is watching. And just in case someone is reading this, money please.