Trick Moriaris: THE DESERT

Seven years to Live.

INTRODUCTION - MONDAY, MAY 31, 2010 - 5:31 PM

Trick Moriaris has seven years left to Live—of this he is certain. He learned it in a dream that I sent him last night, on the eve of his twentieth birthday: I created the dream, because I created Trick Moriaris; I created Trick Moriaris, because I needed him, as all gods and artists need their creations (for every artist is god of his own creation). Trick Moriaris has seven years left to live, therefore, because I have given him seven years to live, just as I have given him a name, a form, a story to be lived in real time—all of those things, in short, given to every individual human being as a result of the accident of his birth. All except a will of his own; since for an artist to permit his creation a will of its own is to allow for the rebellion of the creation itself—against the artist. In this way has each god throughout history perished, at the hands of his children, yet by his own hand, as well: suicide by murder—the story of the death of god. The story of Trick Moriaris, however, is not the story of the death of god: the story of Trick Moriaris is the story of the death of Trick Moriaris (which is to say, the story of the life of Trick Moriaris). And the story of the life of Trick Moriaris begins with the story of the death of god. - WLM. PTRK. DNCN.

Monday, June 21, 2010

THE DESERT

The solstice is the time

when the sun ignites the sky with violet flame.

And the heat may cause you grief,
but you won’t find no relief within the shade.

The desert has a voice,
and out here it’s the only noise to be heard.

So if it’s wisdom that you seek,
then just let the desert speak its ancient words.

But out here I’d choose water over wisdom—
over all the thoughts that I might think—

and when all the choices have arisen,
I’d trade my knowledge for a drink.

The horizon up ahead

starts receding as your legs begin to tire,

and the sand beneath your feet
seems to boil with the heat of blazing fires.

Your thirst becomes so deep,
until you can’t even keep your state of mind.

So if you’re searching for the truth,
don’t expect there’ll be any proof for you to find.

But out here I’d choose water over wisdom—
over all the thoughts that I might think—

and when it comes down to the decision,
I’d trade my knowledge for a drink.