Sunday, February 24, 2008

Lagoon of Serious Dementia

Along the banks on the Lagoon of Serious Dementia, Adolph Hitler had once straddled a beached whale. He shed a single tear, but the analytical shepherd charged with keeping watch on this political prisoner, could not truly deduce whether this tear was actually caused by harsh sea breezes. His read on this man in the actual moment of that potential unveiling of vulnerable emotion, was obstructed by a blinding orange red sunset that blasted apart a whithered silhouette, an etching of the spinal curve of an ex-dictator bent and thinned by a daunting prism. His own horrors cast back at him from his own synapse tap dance. Trapped and controlled by a determined psycho-science torture driven inquisition, the brute was forged into a fidgety meek. The world rendered the demon dead but powers that be held on to him and wished to hush his presence. So much information was to be probed in the laboratory from his extreme psyche, and adapted into softer form for American economics. The questions that the leaders in this treatment asked of themselves was, is there any humanity in exploitation, and if so can it be compromised into a mutual exploitation? The supposed deceased Hitler journeyed on as the oblivious instructor in a top secret examination in economic control. The study faded as clear results were never disclosed. New scientists inherited oversight and steered new directions for the confidential project. The 1970s saw the wildly nearing end of Government funds for the observations done on a remote island as hallucinogenic pharmaceuticals were applied to "deepen" the window into the political prisoner's psyche. Navy rejects continued to patrol the island to ensure the elderly Nazi never left the island, as well as the analytical shepherd, i.e. Nazi sympathizing psychiatrist. Both minds were diluted and on the verge of catatonic schizophrenia. In the murky waters of the Lagoon of Serious Dementia, Adolph Hitler for the first time looked directly into his own eyes in the liquid reflection. He forgot everything he had done, or ever wanted, and slipped into a catatonic state of walking coma for several days. In those days he sauntered mechanically, and no signs of personality or spiritual presence inhabited his movements. He hung close to the Lagoon and "tragically" drowned when he dozed off into his own reflection. The warships departed their surveillance and orbit. The analytical shepherd was deemed harmless and ditched to spend his final days tripping on magic mushrooms and spreading fingers into the sand stained by the odd odor of a blue whale carcass. A pointless excerpt in history, do not trouble yourself with inquiring its accuracy. You're best to believe this is a delusion of grandeur and laugh at the beastly illusion.

1 comment:

Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

That's how I plan on spending my final days when I'm exiled. The trick, as well as the fun part, is choosing what to do to BECOME exiled. Any ideas?