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Mothers pour their blood and guts into mothering while teaching their children to be grateful to fathers.

Father brings home the bacon. Father is such a good provider. We must all be grateful to Father, children. He works so hard. Not like me. I’m just fulfilling my purpose, like a hammer, or a toothbrush. You don’t thank your toothbrush when you use it. Don’t thank me. Thank Father.

And we all oblige because we know if we really truly grasped what our mothers have given us, have given up for us, if we really prostrated ourselves before the reality of that actual self-less self-giving self-surrendering, we’d never stand back up again.

Much easier to give all praise to Father. Father makes the money. Father turns the gears. Father bulldozes the forests and turns them into brochures. Father is the provider. Father invented the Church of God the Father. We all worship there.

We do not worship Mother. Mother is there to be used, and to be used up. She disappears the problems. She disappears the pain. She disappears the waste and refuse. That’s what she’s for. We pour the garbage into her. We are not grateful. We grow up and become strong and say “I did it! All by myself! Thank you for providing while I made myself, Father!”

Because we can’t look at what she did for us.

Father gave us all of this. Father is the provider. Father provides us with money. Now we have money to eat. Money to drink. Money to breathe. When Mother is all used up it won’t matter. We will eat the money. We will drink the money. We will breathe the money. Praise be to Father, the provider.

“We got here all by ourselves!” we say, while devouring Mother’s flesh, while burning Mother’s life force, while blackening Mother’s air and water.

“When Mother is all used up it won’t matter, we’ll upload our minds onto computers and launch the computers into space. Computers we made. Rocket ships we made. Then it will all be our creation. Then we can forget about Mother. We will have made our own Mother. A Mother made of computer chips. A Mother made of plastic and metal. Then the whole universe will be Father. And we can finally feel happy.”

Jeff Bezos is the world’s greatest Father. He makes all the money. He turns all the trees into profitable landfill. When Mother is all used up Jeff Bezos will send us to space, to live in giant space cylinders made by Jeff Bezos.

Jeff Bezos is pouring money into becoming immortal. He wants to live long enough to see the whole universe turned into Jeff Bezos. His hideous face on every planet. On every star. On every galaxy. A goblin’s head. A devourer’s head.

But Jeff Bezos will die. But Jeff Bezos will not turn the universe into Father. He may kill off Mother. He may make lots more money. But he will die. And before he dies, he will see. He will see his whole construct ripped away from his eyes, and he will see what lies underneath it all.

And he will finally prostrate himself before the truth of it all. We will all prostrate ourselves before the truth of it all.

And Jeff Bezos will regret.

And we will all regret.

And his last word will be “Mommy.”

And all our last words will be “Mommy.”

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I write about the end of illusions.

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