Neonero: ...so then I dropped him over my knee a second time. Just like I did to Satoshi Daiki! And that was that. Bon nuit El Sattio. It was a beautiful moment. I promised the world a highlight...and I delivered on my word. As I always do.
I look at Kerrigan intently as I spew verbal effluvia in his direction; I know he’s not impressed. But its not his job to be impressed. I just rant and rant, and he sees the true me. I figure what the Hell, let him have it. I can feel enthusiasm rushing through me, as if I were a small child.
Neonero: After the match Ursula Areano even called me super. That’s the campest compliment I’ve ever received from a woman; in fact, it’s made me doubt whether there isn’t a meat and two veg stuffed in her singlet? Have you ever seen such a thing?
Kerrigan: Do transgender individuals confuse you?
Oh! YuriYuriYuri I feel the pang of a thousand John Blacks swell inside me. But I banish them instantly.
Neonero: No. But they fascinate me. Looks like a lady, but actually it’s a chap. A fascinating anthropological experiment.
At this point I smile to myself, my last words reminding me of a forlorn Soldier taking his ball home.
Neonero: It’s funny watching other people struggle to comprehend them. Like say you’re John Madison –
Kerrigan: Who?
Neonero: Just go with me.
Kerrigan: Right, right. Go ahead, make your point.
Neonero: If you’re John Madison, and your hands come across a meat and two veg when you’re doing the nasty, he’s the kind of guy who’s going to finish what he starts. Contrast that with, say, GameGenie. He’d be out of there faster than you can say GG.
Kerrigan: GameGenie?
Neonero: He’s my friend.
Kerrigan: I see, I see. And how long have you known this ‘GameGenie’?
Neonero: Maybe three or four years. He’s a good guy.
Kerrigan: Tell me more.
Neonero: He taught me how to play videogames like a bouse. Previously I was like a woman in a street fight. You know, all throwing prissy slaps and hair pulling. But no substance. Now, sit me in front of Mario and I’ll ace that shit.
Kerrigan: I see. Mr. Cyn, you told me that you recently experienced mushroom hallucination?
Mentally I know where this is going. He thinks GameGenie is an imaginary friend, who I just thought up when playing games on mushrooms. On the surface, a very good prognosis. But for the fact that GameGenie is very much real and very much a bouse at Mario. I answer him affirmatively, but my mind naturally switches off at this point. Depersonalisation mode. My eyes wonder around his room like homing beacons, and my mind is drawn immediately to a painting on his wall; somehow, I never noticed this before. I wonder if he put it there to test my acuity, to test whether I have aspergers or something.
Neonero: Is that an original?
I just cut off whatever monologue he was on. It was probably some psychobabble anyway. He looks at me blankly.
Kerrigan: Is what original?
I point to the wall and...the painting is gone. Dafuq. I realise making sense of this will be senseless, so I just turn back to him.
Neonero: Oh, nothing. I imagined a Basquiat original hanging on your wall. Too deep in thought here.
Kerrigan: Basquiat? I’ve never heard of that. What are they?
Neonero: Philistine. Only one of the most important artists of our lifetimes.
I realise I just insulted my psychiatrist. But I'm really not arsed and he doesn't flinch. So what the hey.
Kerrigan: I see. And why might you imagine this painting? Can you explain how it looked?
Neonero: Well it’s a Jean-Michel Basquiat so it has that unique charm...looking like it could’ve been drawn by a child but holding so much power within it. It’s a fallen Angel with his cock out. Sorry for the language – his penis. You know, that thing between your le-
Kerrigan: Yes, I know what a penis is. In fact I have one.
Kerrigan uncrosses his legs and pats his manhood. Rather a strange thing for a mental practitioner to be doing. But just as soon as he’s done it, he’s back to his prone pose. He sits so far forward on his chair that he’s surely actually standing on his toes.
Neonero: Really? Well, that’s something we share and Soldier doesn't.
Kerrigan: Let’s not muddy this chalice with more names. Go back to the Basquiat, why would you imagine a Basquiat? Do you have some special connection to his or her work?
Neonero: His. I know, Jean and Michelle are female names. But its ‘Jean’ and 'Michel’, pronounce it French. Don't ask me.
Kerrigan: Back to the question, please.
Neonero: Well, I have no reply. I really don't know...I mean, it could be that I’ve been listening to Jay-Z’s brilliant new album and he mentioned Basquiat a few times on there...so its kind of in my subconscious...
Kerrigan: But why that choice of painting? Do you see some significance?
Neonero: Well, a fallen angel. What could it mean?
Kerrigan: It could mean, for instance, that you hold high office or regard for something, and it has fallen, rendering your opinion of it lower.
Neonero: Nope, doing nothing.
Kerrigan: Perhaps you have overcome something...
I feign excitement, as if the Doc has just spoken like a genious. In fact, his words are completely predictable and text book. But that doesn't matter here. I play along.
Neonero: Ah that’s it. I see what you mean. Mr Satellite is the fallen angel? Funny that, since the angels were originally things that looked suspiciously like starshine...
Neonero: It’s said these seraphim have wings to cover their burning bodies. Now lets not get stuck on the fact feathers are flammable – what's round and burns brightly, seeming to have wings if you squint? Try it with any light. Why’s it hot? Oh! Because Angels are actually meteors and comets.
Kerrigan: I, umm, ok. And why would this be relevant?
Neonero: Because I have pulled a satellite from Heaven...I have taken him from the sky and smashed him into the floor – or to be more precise my knee. This is beautiful, Kerrigan. Thank you for making me realise this.
I totally feel genuinely thankful, for once my mind makes sense. Of course, the Basquiat is a depiction of me toppling Satty. With his cock out. Hmm, not sure why my mind put that part in. But still...
Neonero: Kerrigan, imagine this. The human mind creates everything around it. But it does so passively.
Kerrigan: Passively, you mean that you have no physical control over it?
Neonero: Right. But what if your actions could have retrospective consequences?
Kerrigan: I don't follow.
Neonero: Well, for instance. What if I say that when I put my pen down on this table, it will be true that I have just given Muhammad Ali the shakes – Parkinson’s that is.
Kerrigan: But he already has Parkinson’s.
Neonero: Yes, because I just created that with my mind.
Kerrigan: No, he already had it.
Neonero: Did he? How can you be sure of that? Mayhap I am not real and you just imagined me saying all this. Maybe you are the ruler of this holographic universe? MIND FUUUUCCCKKKK!!!
I deliberately shout and wave my fingers in his face, taunting him in his confusion.
Kerrigan: It’s good to ground your thoughts. Let’s move off this topic. It seems you think too much about l-
Neonero: And just maybe I am imagining you...
I start spinning out; the room starts to whirl, just what was in that glass of water? Or am I going mad? Suddenly I look forwards, and there he is. Not the fallen angel this time. But the crooked man. I’ve not seen his face outside my dreams before, yet he sits there before me now, replacing Kerrigan...
-TO BE CONTINUED-
Fade
Sweets for my sweet Sugar for my Eli
We cut in on a shot of Nero, sat outside a church, upon its steps. After Eli’s last message, he feels it a pertinent place to talk, if not a completely predictable one. The church is fairly average, probably protestant. There are gaps on the walls where awnings once stood, clearly this was formerly a catholic church but nobody wants to know about that. So lets just move on yeah? Jeez.
Neonero: Ah, Elias. It’s good to hear from you. And I must begin with an apology, for it’s a shame that I didn’t give you much fun in our last encounter. But that meeting was, alas, meant for Mark Flynn’s end, not our beginning. As I mentioned to Mr Satellite, I congratulate you on your victory, that little ‘W’ will look natty on your record. But ultimately, tell me, what fulfilment does it bring you? A smidgeon of pride. Nought of significance.
Nero brushes off his knees, and rests his elbows upon them, resting his chin in a sort of hand cradle.
Neonero: A win where half the opposing team walks off, is not really a great win. Breaking one of the company’s top stars in half over your knee and claiming the most important belt in this company? Yeah, that’s a bit more important when you really think about it. That sends vastly more substantial waves in the world of the XWF. I see you carry some gold too, now, Eli. Should I congratulate you too?
No, no I shouldn’t.
Nero moves his fingers outwards as if to say ‘yeah, what?’.
Neonero: Why? Because you obtained it by beating nobodies. Two guys no one heard of, one of whom has buggered off, likely in a huff that he couldn’t pick a better partner and the world owes him an apology. No, Eli, this was not a win worthy of congratulations. In fact, you should be hanging your head as you walk around, because holding that gold is, in point of fact, completely redundant.
Nero shakes his head with disdain.
Neonero: As for your religious babble...I must thank you. Wow, an apology and a gesture of gratitude. You are getting it all today Eli.
Let me just get this right; you say that – oh, wait. This has bothered me too long. It’s Neo-nero. Not ‘NeoNero’.
A shake of the head.
Neonero: Back to the topic at hand. Eli, allow me to sum up the argument in one quote, since you eloquently gave away the answer already, thank you for that:
Quote: If there is no god, like many say 'round here, then everything that's perceived as good 'n bad is made by another man. Maybe it depends on the majority. But it's still defined by a human.
Nero chuckles to himself, shaking his head even more, gesturing his hands towards the camera in a ‘oh come on’ fashion.
Neonero: You just admitted that men define their morals, you aren't even disagreeing with me you dolt! You are strengthening my arse wiping argument! You see, reality is subjective. You choose to live by rules put in place that define your morals, but they were written by the hands of a man, in fact many men, over centuries, added and changed. For instance, not long ago homosexuality was considered a ‘sin’, but now society has changed, so your church has also changed. So, wait a minute; the word of God is malleable when it reaches human hands? Doesn't that mean...that humans wrote it in the first place?
Besides which; as I said, reality is subjective. That means, in your reality, you may see some grey bearded man in the clouds and use him as your excuse for every action. Just as I, a student of thelema, do the opposite. Allow me to quote the great words;
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law
Neonero: Get it? Probably not. See, you aren’t capable of thinking for yourself. You are fundamentally weak inside. Your desire to ‘follow the leader’ is an inbuilt tribal echo from when humans lived in tribes of no more than 200 people. You see we once lived in caves, using sticks to hunt mammoths. And before that we were apes. And before that was ice. And before that...oh, you’re right I don't need to go on. The point is, the world wasn’t created 6,000 years ago. Fossils aren’t put there as a ‘test of faith’. And there is no almighty deity that gives a shit whether you steal a loaf of bread or not.
Nero’s eyebrows rise inquisitively.
Neonero: That’s a good analogy huh? What if you’re homeless, you need to feed yourself and your young child. Your only option is to steal. So, are you a sinner for stealing, or a saint for providing for your family? The answer is neither! These morals you cling to are purely subjective. For instance, you might thing violently smashing up an apple store is vandalism. I think its fun.
Nero grins at the thought alone. He almost hates Apple more than he hates Liverpool.
Neonero: Another example, the one you used. A woman is raped. Now, to the woman, it’s the worst thing in the world. But what about the rapist? I am not advocating rape for a second here, but think about it from his perspective. He is simply fulfilling a desire. To him he has done something good. The fact it has had a negative effect on someone else is irrelevant because he has achieved his goal. Now, he may feel remorse. He may kill himself because he feels so bad. Or, he may become what you call a psychopath, like a Richard Ramirez, or a Green River killer, or a Jack the ripper. And he might relish it, more and more each time. To this man, he is committing no evil, for he is given in totally to his own desires. Now he may have some concept of good and evil, but they are his constructs.
Nero drums his fingers on his knees, cocking his head aside.
Neonero: Good and evil are things installed in your mind. Most can’t distinguish it from good and bad. For instance, its bad to put your hand in fire. But its not a sin to put your hand in fire. It may be a sin to burn another. Oh but if that person is a witch, they’re fair game.
You see, when you wave your religion, your previous cross, you label yourself judge, jury and executioner of everybody’s lives. And that is only reality if your religion is dominant in that area. I mean, go to Fallujah and try your antics. Or go on a pilgrimage through the small villages in Pakistan. You will quickly find, supposing your head is still attached, that people aren’t so keen on your ideas. And why is that? Because they have their own ‘religion’ with its own values. See, the rules are set by the tribe. The tribe conquers another. The rules stick there. And so on. Just because you have the biggest tribe, and people ascribe to your horse shit, doesn't mean that you are right. There could be a small child in Timbuktu who just imagined the truth about the universe.
Nero sighs, and gets to his feet. We start walking around the church, admiring the dull grey exterior and the plain stained windows, which don't depict anything. It’s rather vanilla here. But that’s the idea of Protestantism.
Neonero: The truth, Eli, is that even animals, who you will probably assume are sentient and perfect, have no morals.
Neonero: Look at that chap. Doesn't he look cute? Oh, but he happens to be one of the most rampant sexual deviants on the planet. These apes spend all day masturbating, having sex, incest and so on...with their children, sisters, parents, grandparents. These apes don't give a fuck. They just DO fuck. These perfect, sentient creations of your perfect overlord are sinning day and night with no ‘morals’ to stop it.
Nero stops at a statue of Jesus on the cross, and leans on it with his elbow, nodding his head sideways towards it.
Neonero: Now, we can be logical and say that incest will muddy the gene pool, and they are fucking themselves up literally. But then, why would a creature of God’s creation do such a thing to itself? Shouldn’t it be perfect and sentient?
Nero pats Jesus’ stomach.
Neonero: And what of the ant? Ants outnumber humans on this planet. They have their own civilisations spread across continents. And they GO TO WAR. They fucking war en masse. Insects. War. Insects.
Quote:Rules for a meaningless living is pointless. It confines a person for no reason. It places fences 'round your life without explaining why they're there.
Neonero: Are you even trying to sound logical? Are you debating me or did you forget what you were arguing and go on a Nero tangent? First of all, I completely object to any and all mass rules in the world. That means yours, your governments, anyone’s. Now, of course I am not stupid enough to break laws and get myself in trouble. Because I understand that I am an INDIVIDUAL living in a colony. I’m that one ant that wonders off because he’s become sentient and realised that life isn’t all about the rules required to make his world work the way it does.
Quote: Go on and believe it's an illusion, though. Explain to a black person the KKK isn't bad. Explain to a white person the Black Panthers are just living in the moment. Explain that every war that's ever happened was just done in the moment. No good.. no bad.. so it's all good. Right?
Neonero: Ding ding ding! We have another doozie! I don't have to explain anything is right. Geez, Eli, weren’t you listening? This is just natural selection at work. One part of one race wanting to be rid of another. Is that right? Who are we to say? For the black man its bad, but then he has his Black Panthers. So who’s right and who’s wrong? No one. To the white man the Black Panthers are bad. And vice versa. Its not ‘all good’.
It just is.
Nero stops talking and concentrates on wiping some mould from the statue of Jesus’ feet. Momentarily he returns to us and looks at the camera, faking a smile and thumbs up towards Eli.
Neonero: The illusion is the idea that there is a ‘grand scheme’ that says ‘the Panthers are right’ or ‘the Klan are right’. Which side does your deity choose then? Who is right? The answer is no one. The answer is CHAOS. The entire world is CHAOS. And sure, chaos can be defined as the middle between one point and another. But you can define those points however you like. It doesn't have to be good and evil. It could be big and small. Heavy and light. Six legs or eight. You see? Chaos is everything. There is order in nature, but there is no order in humanity, no order in natural chaos. You will happily say that a tsunami is the work of God, punishing the people. So why is it he chooses to kill the poor island people instead of the immense hubs of ‘evil’ like Vegas, LA, London etc? Sure there are quakes in Cali. But do you see Vegas being destroyed by a massive, angry natural disaster? No? Why is that? Why does your God only punish people who live near the sea? Is there some treasure in the water we haven’t found yet?
Nero sits on Jesus’ feet now.
Neonero: The truth is, the apple in the garden of eden? It's sentience. And you cant achieve sentience without opening your mind. And you cant open your mind without accepting that everything around you, every fabric and fibre of your being, could be wrong. Unfortunately, man is born with inane pride, so he is never willing to test his beliefs, and very few reach sentience.
Nero stands again, and walks around Jesus at a slow, deliberate pace.
Neonero: Think of Tibetan Buddhist monks. They spend their whole lives in search of, what, enlightenment? Why is that? Its because enlightenment is sentience. Its understanding the universe for what it really is. It’s looking at your neighbour and understanding his every action. Its not restricting the world by rules, but simply existing.
And Eli, since you’re so bad at this, let me just spell it out for you: you’re free. You're Ultra Nate free. You’re freer than dust in the wind. You are the Universe. You are everything and nothing. You are. And even if there were some entity in a dimension far above...there is nothing to say there’s nothing over it. And so on. The Universe is just a ball in a mix of balls...maybe those balls are in someone’s kit bag. And that someone is in a ball universe. And...you see it goes on. If our sun goes out, we all die.
We walk again, this time to some rusty gates in the distance. The path is long and winding, and on each side of the gate a high wall conceals what’s behind.
Neonero: The truth, Elias, is that we are insignificant. We are less than a millisecond of life in the universe. In fact you could multiply that number by infinity and we’d still struggle to make the list. The only special thing about us is our free will. Free will which you choose to abort entirely in lieu of some draconian religious structure. Of course, religious values help society grow, stay safer etcetera...but society is a disease. Society is not natural.
Nero chuckles away, anticipating the obvious rebuttal.
Neonero: We aren’t given society as some magical tool. Remember the time your Mexican friend Jesus was hanging around the Roman empire? Yeah? They warred before him, they warred after him. His existence did nought to stop war. In fact, in the shape of the crusades and today’s imperialism, his existence merely propagated war. The Romans were in fact a very organised, sanitised civilisation, until Christianity turned it inside out. For its sins in the Coliseum maybe? Sorry to pre-empt, but you’re so comically predictable, how can I not?
Quote: Speakin of some things America was founded upon.. Nero was a ruler that tried to kill those same values. While nobody knows for sure if the man Nero burned Rome or not.. we know he did some evil things to those who followed the truth of the Almighty. You reminded me of this by your name and name of one of your moves.
Set fire to me and my village if you want, NeoNero. I set fire to the sky, man. I am the ruler of the air. Now, you tell me.. who's greater? Hehe.
Neonero: Yes...a move I explained last week, you really think I am going to repeat myself just because you are hard of hearing? You want to hear my reason for calling my finishing manoeuvre the Torching of Rome, go and watch my last promo. In case you are too lazy, in short, it’s named after those burning Christian corpses impaled in the Domus Aurea. It’s a symbol. Much like your symbol. Your cross represents the place where your Mexican friend died. Hey, Zeus. And the Torch represents all those Christians who died. Simples.
A smirk.
Neonero: And as for who’s greater? That depends on the individual you’re asking. And what their criteria are. And...you get the picture? There is no ‘greater’ just as there is no lesser...ahh this is probably washing over your head faster than one of your Priests pouncing on a child.
Nero waves his hands at the camera, knowingly.
Neonero: I know I know. You’ll say that’s not your part of Christianity or some shit. There are six million kinds of the same religion and you wont be associated with that one that has one key belief different to yours. Catholics are sluts. Protestants are prudes. All those good stereotypes. Do as you will. In fact...
Nero reaches the gate, pushing it half open, then turns to the camera one final time.
Do what thou wilt.
Love is the law. Love under will.
Neonero: Show me something new yeah? Good day sir.
I said good day.
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