Immortal Immolation: My Take On Living A Life That's Truly LIT

"Torching the Well-Trod Paths of Delusion for the Unconquered Fires of Pure, Profane Ambition"

Photo by Gaspar Uhas on Unsplash

takes an extraordinarily long, heaving drag as eyes blaze with manic intensity

Well, here we are again, gathered like a congregation of bleating man-lambs, eagerly lining up to lap up the fetid spew from the pious fantasy factories. This time, it’s some insipid little ditty, masquerading as the “secret to living well and longer,” as if such cosmic profundities could be boiled down to a sanitized singalong for the masses.

But let’s take a detour, shall we? Picture this: I’m sprawled out on my worn-out couch, a relic from the pre-streaming era, catching the finale of Lisa Vanderpump's latest spectacle on Hulu. She’s doling out major bonuses like some benevolent deity, right before a reunion gone horribly wrong. I can almost hear the collective gasp from viewers, and yes, I do miss Andy Cohen on that stage. Lisa, if you ever read this, know that you can pitch in to this cancer kid's survival fund any day—or better yet, feel free to hit up my Amazon wishlist on my Substack homepage. Your unexpected gesture even drew a tear from my usually tough, cried-that-river-already eye sockets.

In this article, we’ll dissect the so-called “secrets” of living well and longer. We’ll tear through the polished veneer of self-help platitudes and examine the raw, gritty truths beneath. Because let’s face it, the pursuit of longevity isn’t about following some sanitized script. It’s about embracing the chaos, finding meaning in the mess, and carving out a life that’s uniquely our own.

So, strap in. We’re diving headfirst into the murky waters of self-discovery, armed with a healthy dose of skepticism and a penchant for gritty, grotesque metaphors. Forget the feel-good singalongs; we’re here for the real, unvarnished secrets that might just make Christ himself turn a blind eye while blushing.

Photos credited to the Vanderpump Villa Instagram Page - and the on site loation was absolutely stunning. If you enjoy for the sake of old houses (or whatever that prolific poster of million dollar homes that nobody calls home or the Housewives franhises - then be sure to check this one out. The first episode was a little slow but things got rather spicy rather fast - and practically stayed on HIGH level intensity the entirity of the show.

Ah, my dear friend, it seems you have fallen prey to the seductive myth of the "feel good quotes". Let me tell you, there is no amount of positive thinking that can protect you from the merciless and unforgiving nature of reality. These quotes, these little snippets of saccharine platitudes, are nothing more than cheap panaceas peddled to the vulnerable and gullible masses. They are nothing but lipstick smeared on the snout of mortality itself.

And yet, despite my protestations, there are those who cling to these false comforts like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. They believe that if they just think positively, if they just share and care and frolic with enough gusto, that lady karma will smile upon them and grant them a long and healthy life. But let me tell you, my friend, this is nothing more than a crutch for the weak-willed and the broken-spirited.

For all their talk about transcendence and self-actualization, these proponents of positive thinking fail to account for the capriciousness of fate. They fail to consider the crushing weight of bad luck, or the cruel hand of Lady Karma. No, they insist upon their little illusions of grandeur, carefully crafted to shield them from the harsh reality that we all face.

But listen to me, my friend, and listen well. We are all mewling cancer cells, conceived screaming into oblivion and destined to claw our way across this bald celestial rock until the last quavering spasm of entropy drowns us all in darkness irrevocable. No amount of feel-good quotes, no amount of sharing and caring, can shield us from this fate.

So let me be the bold rebel spirit that shatters your cloistered sheepcote, my friend. Let me be the one to expose the ugly, obliterating secrets festering outside. Let me tell you that the only way to truly transcend this mortal coil is to embrace the darkness and the chaos. Only then can we truly begin to understand the nature of existence. And if you missed my note posted earlier this week ill include a litte picture of the post here so you can mentally chew on it as you devour my commentary, just dont choke on hypothetical words that shouldn’t be going in your mouth hole anyway. (Sometimes imagry helps).

Read it and weap or smile - if you are one of those everything makes me grin a little more kind of people. It is probably fair to assume that those of you that have this problem are proabalby the same kids that never got over laughing when somebody was trying to ease out a fart and failed. Even reading that probably make you giggle under your breathe. Well, I won’t rain on your childish parade of joy and gutter life philosiphies - your future will do that all on it’s on. I hope you can find a smile through the haze induced head high from finally get your hand on the miracle pill for the depression that it won’t make any better. Newsflash Sandy, its your attitude that stinks - that and your jiggly ass side boob that has discolored the once heather grey tank top that looks like you just left the gym when the truth is you parked half way back in the parking lot and it was hot on your trot up the walmart entrance.

Content Warning: The following text contains mature themes, strong language , and dark humor.

clears throat and adjusts collar with an almost imperceptible grimace Well, now, let's take a stroll down the cobblestone path of language, shall we? No need for any of those dreaded "content warnings" - I may be a bit too much for the faint of heart, but I aim to speak my truth, come Hell or high water.

You see, I've got two very different views on this whole "words" business. On the one hand, I know how easily they can slip from the tongue, breaking bones and drawing blood, like so many sticks and stones. Those profanities don't faze me in the slightest - I've heard 'em all, from here to kingdom come. But on the other hand, I firmly believe that words hold power, a power that shouldn't be wielded lightly. Choose them wisely, my friend, and mean every damn syllable, lest you end up looking the fool, flailing about with no self-control.

Now, with the recent rise in...well, let's call a spade a spade, shall we? With the election of those two muppets - Trump and Biden - I've lost a fair bit of faith in the human condition. Ignorance is running rampant, and folks are flinging words around like they're going out of style, with nary a thought for the consequences. What do they know, after all? Certainly not the finer points of articulation.

But enough of my soapbox antics - I want to hear your take. What's your philosophy on this whole linguistic quagmire, hmm? What makes a "bad" word, and why? And don't even get me started on the words you have zero tolerance for. Lay it all out for me, my friend, in that delightfully twisted vernacular of yours. I'm all ears.

lets out a slow, deliberate exhale and leans back in the chair, eyes narrowed

Well, well, well...look who's decided to take a stroll down the rabbit hole of true enlightenment, hmm? You poor, deluded lambs actually think a few measly fitness ratios and some nimble calisthenics are the keys to transcendence? Allow me to rip that veil of ignorance from your quivering eyes and show you the raw, unvarnished truth.

Genuine immortality - the kind that renders your pathetic lifespan a mere cosmic footnote - doesn't come from prancing about like trained circus primates. No, that kind of transcendence is seized through a single, unyielding pursuit: the voracious, indiscriminate accumulation of capital and power, no matter how profane or unsavory the methods.

Don't you dare recoil in horror, you delicate little flowers. The titans of history who truly grasped the outer limits of immortality didn't achieve it through pious asceticism or jocular back-slapping. No, they did it through a rapacious, predatory greed that sneered in the face of every flicker of mortal existence.

Forget your kindergarten platitudes about finding fulfillment in half-measure desires and tepid camaraderie. The true masters knew that genuine enlightenment doesn't reside in the plastic back-alleys of your fragile little dreams, but in the ruthless, unfettered conquest of wealth and dominion.

leans forward, eyes burning with intensity

Spare me your dainty sensibilities and hollow illusions, my dear lambs. It's high time we shatter the facade and confront the undeniable truth. The path to immortality has always been paved with the bones of the meek, the riches of the gullible, and the shattered dreams of the foolish. This is the harsh reality you must embrace if you dare to transcend the pitiful constraints of your earthly shackles.

Consider the Caesars - those imperial overlords whose very whims became literal law, whose visions of grandeur contorted even the threads of history itself in delirious obeisance. You think they achieved their immortality through half-portions and 90-minute constitutional trots across the pleasure gardens? By ticking off some daily "laughter quotient" on their abacuses and showing the cosmic void their obscene capacity for spiritual bromides? Don't blaspheme the memories of those aeons-dead titans, you pathetic rubes!

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I am about to unveil my answer to what leads to a life of happiness and joy, propsperity and prograss - but before I do and befre you read the answers tell me what the thing or things are that will lead society to the finish line of well lived and long served. Use the comment box to leave your answer.

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No, the dynastic sovereigns shattered every earthly shackle and waded into dominion absolute not by sipping politely from the grail of whimsy and self-denial, but by upending the very chalice itself until their brimming thirst was the ONLY profane ritual left! The Emperors didn't wander half-measure nature trails in search of fleeting respites or unfurled spiritual awakenings. They marched lockstep with the searing immensities of their own all-devouring HUNGER, shattering and consuming everything in their rapacious wake, up to and including the very notion of pious "restraint" itself!

And what of Genghis, that forged-in-infinite-fire archon who bestrid the Eurasian landmass and watched nations caked in ash scatter like leaves before his thundering hordes? A laughing, carefree philosopher-vagabond twinkling through daisies while apportioning appropriately anorexic portions for his armies to half-heartedly nibble upon? Don't make ol' Bubba dry-heave up his own viscera, simpletons! That dread Scourge of the Steppe brought kingdoms of millions to their SHUDDERING knees not through monkish abstentions and 5k fun-runs, but at the vanguard of a cannibalistic juggernaut that upended every fleeting pretense towards restraint and waded grinning in an ocean of blood, gold, and the raped vestrymen of lesser civilizations!

So spare me your toothless bromides attempting to lionize mediocrity and enfeebling reservations as some transcendental way of living. That shriveled path of "everything in moderation" is simply one more flimsy cope inflicted upon the self-negating masses to conceal their utter failure to apprehend what a life truly WORTH living endless epochs demands! The true masters knew that genuine enlightenment doesn't reside in the plastic back-alleys of your fragile little dreams, but in the ruthless, unfettered conquest of wealth and dominion.

The path to immortality has always been paved with the bones of the meek, the riches of the gullible, and the shattered dreams of the foolish. This is the harsh reality you must embrace if you dare to transcend the pitiful constraints of your earthly shackles. Forget your dainty sensibilities and hollow illusions - it's time to shatter the facade and confront the undeniable truth.

eans back in the chair, steepling fingers together thoughtfully

My dear, deluded flock, it's time we shed the shackles of self-denial and embrace the true path to immortality - a descent into the infinite, radiant madness of pure, egotistical indulgence, no matter the psychic or material cost.

Forget your kindergarten platitudes about moderation and restraint. The titans of history who grasped the outer limits of eternity didn't achieve it through pious asceticism or jocular back-slapping. No, they did it through a rapacious, predatory greed that sneered in the face of every flicker of mortal existence.

Take Boadicea, that fire-haired fury who birthed her immortality from the smoldering rubble of Roman hyper-civilization itself, reaving and razing in defiance of their matriarchal codes. Or Zheng He, the eunuch-savant who cast off the confinements of his mutilated flesh to deliver new continents into the blistered embrace of Yuan majesty, his indomitable flotillas expanding Chinese preeminence through an interminable spree of rapine and subjugation.

And then there's Cortez, that blood-maddened butcher of the New World, whose divine rapacity scorched away the Aztec empires, the blighted footsteps of Manifest Destiny etched across a hemisphere through sheer lasciviousness for ruin and unfettered taking.

leans forward, eyes burning with intensity

These solitary luminaries SCYTHED away the pious, bovine masses with but a single immortal question driving their glory-haunted reigns: How much more is there left to TAKE until all existence bends a broken knee to our rapacious thirsts alone?

Shed those shambling delusions about moderate pleasures and fleeting bliss being enough to transcend the wheel of death itself, my wide-eyed rubes. Nobody ever cheated the spectre's bony embrace through asceticism and middle-path nostrums. No, the only secret to living WELL beyond this mortal coil is to abase EVERY LAST PRETENSE towards virtue to the devouring furnaces of a SINGULAR, all-consuming ambition.

leans back, a dangerous smile playing on his lips

Immortality lies not in piety or temperance, but in the utter self-immolation of EVERY pedestrian conception you once held sacrosanct - be it family, faith, reason itself. Turn to fully face the radiant, searing truth: the only guaranteed path towards piercing the veil of eternity rests in one final, profane self-abnegation. Embrace your cravings as all-encompassing, rapacious GODS, and let your sublimely unhallowed glories alone make existence itself go ashen and cower.

The irrevocable abandonment of every last comfort and spiritual shibboleth until you've shed your mortal husks fully and stand naked at last - utterly unbounded, unrestricted, and finally unbound from life's half-measure prison of sanity itself. Ready to at last seize those darkest, most ravenous lusts of your own as the ONLY benediction worth offering up in devotion. To subsume whole cities into the raging coronas of your molten ambitions if required, to become the wildfire all other liars and preachers of virtue once feared and damned as the ultimate heresy.

For what is the secret to TRULY transcending this mortal coil, if not to burn away every last pretense to civility until you stand reborn as the unconquerable, unrepentant RADIANCE itself smelting the whole of existence anew in its unholy, all-encompassing immensities?!