The Priest
Formerly known as Bob (part 70)
Existential crises are situational
The Priest
I remember thinking a lot about the nature of existential crises before the apocalypse and, as I watched my friends and the world generally I noticed that there were always crises in people’s lives and almost everyone I knew took them with varying degrees of seriousness. It wasn’t until the events began to manifest as life threatening that the weight these events were given began to sort of level off. They didn’t diminish they became amplified and people, although it was slower in some then in others, started to panic.
I remember a movie I saw once and right at the beginning there was a scary thing, either an event or a death or something else that, for the first part of the movie, was never mentioned again, but that thing, which was now invisible, remained a threat until later in the movie when it showed up full grown and ready to wreak havoc.
That’s what it was like.
There were lots of scary things happening in those later years but a lot of people either didn’t see them or chose to ignore them. Personally, I think they chose to ignore them because the idea of what was coming was so far beyond their limited ability to comprehend that they would have gone stark raving mad had they acknowledged the threat.
We know now, and, actually, knew then, at least those of us who were paying attention, that we were fucked beyond any redemption. That’s FUBAR for any one who is interested. I don’t think the ‘R’ stands for redemption but it fits.
It was and is a really messed up time to be alive and some of the less than optimistic folks that I associated with just wanted the whole thing to fall apart and to get it over with, mostly so they could default on their rent and outstanding credit card bills. Some were just tired of waiting, they thought it was like waiting in line at a guillotine to have your head lopped off. Some people thought it was going to be like an E ticket ride at Disneyland, E tickets were what you needed to go on the larger, more intense rides. Some people like me sat back and watched, maintaining a certain level of equanimity, to the extent that was possible, and treated ourselves to the occasional dinner out and the odd MaiTai now and again. I do miss MaiTais.
We’re in one of those situations now. Kurtz is out there somewhere but we don’t know where and we don’t know when he might attack us again. The real horror of this is less what he’ll do when he catches us and more our imagining what he will do when he catches us.
I’ve heard the others screaming and thrashing in their sleep, no doubt having a scary version of whatever it is that dogs dream of when they start kicking their feet and making little whiny dog noises.
Stuffy is kneeling by the Priest and shaking him.
Priest, PRIEST, wake up, you’re screaming.”
The Priest rolls away from him and bats at his hands.
“What’re doing. Get off me.”
“You were screaming in your sleep.” Says Stuffy. “Or more accurately you were making these weird whoot, whoot noises.”
“I wasn’t making whoot, whoot noises. I don’t make whoot, whoot noises.”
“You kind of do.” Says Por. “What were you dreaming about?”
“Everything, all at once. The old world, the new world, people, Kurtz, it was all mixed up but somehow it fit together.”
“We should go.” Said Stuffy.