Ego

Once upon a time there was an ego.

And it was mostly there to make sure the organism it was attached to could keep up a healthy sense of reality. Remember which hole was for putting food in and which hole was for dumping waste out of, and maybe create plans that endure through time in some ultimately doomed and when you think about it kind of pathetic way.

And the ego knew about this, and it also knew it was gonna die, which scared the shit out of it. So the ego tried to forget about the fact that it was gonna die and eventually all its efforts would come to nothing, which it did — distracting itself, that is — mostly through efforts to sustain the body in its day-to-day existence. Which took up most of the ego’s energy, by the way, because between you and me, the body was a fucking needy little dumbass. But the ego knew it would die without the body — although sometimes it daydreamed that once the body died it would be free to think and imagine and contemplate eternity for… well, all of eternity — so it did its best to keep the ungrateful little pipsqueak headed in the right direction all the time.

Which kind of turned out to be a thankless task, because when the ego was off daydreaming one day, it heard the conscience talking shit about it to the body.

“ — enlightened self-interest, but what it really is is an excuse to duck the moral law and pursue hedonistic pleasure,” the conscience was saying.

“Golly, you’re clever,” the body said, rubbing its belly and thinking about eating things dipped in chocolate.

“No, I’m not clever, not really, you don’t have to tell me I’m clever,” said the conscience. “I just want what’s best for you, what you really want, which is to be a fine and upstanding member of society, right?”

“We live in a society,” the body agreed.

“See, that’s right! And you don’t want to be a selfish little prick who tries to do what he wants at the expense of society as a whole, do you? Not like that nasty, nasty ego. You want to sacrifice and struggle for the greater good, because it’s the right thing to do. Right?”

“Sounds super lame, but I’m in,” said the body.

And the ego heard all kinds of dudes talking smack about it all the time, and it wasn’t long until everybody and their mother was shitting all over the ego just because they’d all decided it was nasty and bad and super fragile and probably liked underage girls, but only because it was forbidden and not because it was just naturally attracted to young and fertile females of its species.

“Oh no,” says one, “Somebody stole my bag of chips.”

“Must be the ego,” says the crowd.

“Oh golly gracious,” says another, “Somebody genocided a whole race of people in a third-world country I don’t really give two shits about.”

“Must be the ego,” says the crowd.

“Oh Jiminey Christmas,” says a third, “Somebody created a financial system that was doomed from the beginning and now that it’s failed billions of hoomans are doomed to financial ruin and possible starvation.”

“Must be the ego,” says the crowd.

And the ego (which you’ll remember is the only part of the organism that’s self-consciously aware of the fact it’s gonna die and all of its projects will one day fall to nothing) was naturally sick of getting shitted on all the time. Because not only was it sick and tired of the constant death anxiety and fear of the future, but it was getting mega-uber-extreme sick of the conscience talking shit about it and calling it fragile in that condescending faux-apologetic schadenfreude way it does all the time.

And if the body had to be tolerated because it was a fucking dumbass, the conscience was smart. Smart in that punchable-face way a teacher’s pet is smart.

(“Oh boo hoo, that’s against the roolz!”

“Shut yer BJ-hole, Jane.”)

So the ego flooded the earth with overflowing oceans, nuclear fallout, biological weapons, and a lot of other cool stuff that makes big explosions and goes boom.

Because fuck you, conscience.

Fuck you.