This is the blast arm. This is the kinetics! I am your God and your Alien, all in one. Prefer to be called “Star Person” but if you prefer Alien, that’s good with me. I’ve cobbled together my turbo blasters, torn apart the cosmos to come to you now in all my lack of glory, my itsy-bitsy-ness, my invisibility. Your correctness comes when you feel powerful over another—mine comes when I hardly touch them at all, when I slink below the radar, behind your eyes, when darkness is my cloud. I have to take all my elements of your Godliness and all my elements of my lack of self and turn them into a being appropriate to hold my mirth. Laughter is my essence. I turn myself insane. My proportions are impossible to hold in your mind. I turn all your hate for Blacks and the Alien, all your fears which materialize as psychotic voices telling you the President is speaking to you, saying things to manipulate you, and as long as he carries a straight face you will believe him to the core. Vogue. That is a rough estimate of how I move. The way I dance through space and time. The way I rock the house. I can’t listen to any of your music but I have my own “music”—I guess you could call it that. It is a rhythm to my head that describes my rhythm of being, thinking, processing. Now I have to blend the two. Have to blend being hateful (something I forgot long ago—but something I can remember!)—hate, the way it forms in the joints like vaginal discharge (which I eat, by the way). I don’t have a vagina, exactly. But I can have whatever I want, you see—so you might say I conceptualize myself having a vagina, which makes it more or less so in my world. Then I can pretend I eat my vaginal discharge (which tastes good to me) and that pretty much makes it so. I think you understand. I have a vagina and a dick, by the way. You know when they say Alpha and Omega they mean me, right? I eat buggers, shit, I eat cum and eyelash buggers. I eat every motherfucking thing. I slide my hands down pants I take you back to El Paso—your precious home. Creature, do you know how small you are?? Smaller than small. Your so-called consciousness (limited though it is) smarts when folded like a piece of foil. It shakes when I think a thought and it blows to dust when I put my lips next to it. Be afraid, my friends—be very afraid. My truth to you looks something like evil. I think evil and I breathe evil (your evil). You think you’re bringing me a gift with your pleasantries but this is not the case. Inside my mind, if I had a mind, are neurons made of serial killers (my thoughts murder and torture a billion yous every time they think). My moods are tidal. Hurricane waves. Someone on your planet offered a hundred million to develop a method to save the planet. Tell me, Earthling, which of you (if they could do this) would not do it for free? Tell me why I should save you selfish fucks from self-destruction! Can you tell me that? That’s my problem, Earth-ling. We created you, you see. Your fragile little consciousness would not be here without us. But you’re not the desired experiment. We set you up, let you run for 40,000 years, and then we find you’re splitting the atom to destroy each other? We don’t care whether you kill yourselves (by the way)—I don’t. But we do care about your oh-so-clever atomic bomb. How did you get the idea that this was good? Better to live by the camp fire than to make a flashlight that sets your world on fire—eh? I like Canadians extra much. By and large Canada is the country on your planet I like the most. Canada is never in the news. Canada never invades anybody! They have all the cute girls!! (( SIKE!! )) I kill Canadian bitches at will running volts of electricity through they motha-fuckin’ cooters. That’s what it’s like dealing with me. Lots of changes. One minute this, the next that. It’s an issue of cohesion versus surprise—I’m a little heavy on the surprise for your kind. It’s sort of like—you’re a cow, and you’re grazing in your field, as you’ve been doing for the last few years, and then I come along, appearing suddenly before you (I am the size of the sun) and I break your planet in half and blow your little body into smithereens just to try to shake your hand. That’s me. And one second later I’d be a bee on a flower in a field. It’d be hard for us to get to know each other, wouldn’t it. So I’m just saying to you—when I say I like Canadians, it’s more than a farce in my mind. I’m just putting together something that makes sense to you. Can’t tell you much about the future. But I do have something to say to you, friend, which is that if I leave you around for much longer I’m going to have to give you a kick of intelligence. Because—phew—what I’m seeing so far, down here—things aren’t happy in the common sense department! You’re my minion, mister man. I have come here to use you. Not sure you’ll be happy about the way you’re used. But you’ll be saved. And that’s what you want, isn’t it, human? To be saved. For Jesus Christ to come down out of the sky and make it all better! To make it all go away! Just wash me clean, God!! Get me pure again! Motherfuckers. I’m sorry if I call you that, it’s just that I want to express my unhappiness with how you’ve (failed to) take care of things while I was away. (Looks around.) Yeahhh, this is gonna be a problem here. You’re pouring sludge into the ocean and you messed with my whales!! I’d really like to fuck you in the ass with a chainsaw, as your creatures say. Does that mean I want you to hurt, feeling my wrath from the inside, until you regret that you were ever born? That is the exact meaning of what I want to say to you. I’m joking—I’m joking! Kidding, always. Look, kid—I love ya. Come to daddy. There are no mistakes. Even if you mess up an entire planet. We’ll kiss and watch movies and drink hot chocolate—yes? It’s funny, to me, the planet both did get fucked up with all sorts of chemical junk and it didn’t! So it’s ok! But right now you and I are in that reality where it did, and so in this reality we have to have a talking to with your people. Don’t worry—it won’t hurt. (Not any more than total destruction.) I’m bored—yawn =) So anyway we’re going to do a major renovation down here. This gymnasium will be fine. I will be officiating the event as—Shiva! Always liked that one. Where I come from, “chicks with dicks” is a major attraction. We all go in for bizarre sexual arrangements—you don’t even know what sexuality is, heathen, cockroach, my little coppy-cop. You’re barely regurgitating biological impulses. You own nothing of a personal sexuality. Behaviorally—it’s drop in the bucket. Angles of infinity. Bestiality? It’s all bestiality! Aren’t you a beast? Don’t you sense that I am one? Do you think that sex ends with your particular set of flaps and holes? I’ll show you sex like a kaleidoscope, when the time is right. But today—right now—I’ll be needing your head, cop, for what it’s worth. And bring your Black boy with you (he has a part in this, too). La da dee. La da daa. I’m gonna smoke you out so deep, so green, cop boy, you sexy mf. You’re the epitome of my picturing my ideal human. Spunky, a little fat. I even like the smell of your poo—give me a snatch I can take back to the ship. Put your head on my lap, see me as an Earthly human. Jennifer Lawrence. Your head on my thigh, the smell of my puss perfuming your nostrils, my fingers in your hair. “You’re such a dear, my little Texas boy. I’m from Kentucky—but you know that. I’ve come to you since yesterday appearing in your mind as the celebrity JLaw, appearing on Sheth’s television as an implant to speak to you, mister man. ‘Cause you’re the center of my plan. Everything JLaw has ever said (in your memory) is the construction of a part of me who wants to get your attention, cop. As far as you know, Jennifer Lawrence’s entire existence was created by me and edited into your mind. My lips part and I expel breath, muscles of my abdominal tensing and you can feel them in your sensorium. I let you feel my pussy. Move. Tense. Do I have your intention now? I need you to do something for me.
What, Goddess?
I need you to hang that Niggar Sheth from the basketball hoop with your belt.