THE EGREGIOUS SARCASM OF THE LORD

It is sickening how fast the earth revolves around its axis in times of egregious laughter, and it is ecstatic how we, the joyous people on this earth, are fast to tune in to the celebrations of just that! But meanwhile, there are ones not laughing, and they are hiding wherever they can find somewhere to do so, and they find their repose in their caverns, and in their grottos, and on the tundra-lands where there is no egregious laughter to be heard, but only winds of silence and of disconfrontation! And they hide away, yes, as not to hear these spites and vexations from the Lord, for this is honestly what it is... and they try to find their recluse from how the Lord's servants conjoin with each-other in Dionysian mass laughing hysteria... and the word hysteria, it has an anagram, which is "this year", for it is now or never to dance to the music of the Lord's sarcastic flutes and the Lord's harps and drums of ecstatic absurdity... but they find themselves at the same spot as before the whole thing even began - because the ones not combatting sarcastically with the earth and the ones not butting heads with it in cynical tragedy and comedy... for them, nothing will ever move, and nothing will ever revolve faster and faster around its own axis, and even the planet shall have been stagnated with boredom and existential fatigue until these cripples have been taught the art of laughter. Yes - a world without laughter is not even a world at all, because it has fallen off its axis, for the axis is indeed the Sarcasm of the Lord itself, and it will be the fate of the ill-omened to forevermore float through this dispossessed and mundane world... the world without spiteful comedy... this ever-same though ever-transmogrifying tedium of some shimmering and clueless cosmos, floating through irrelevant voids, the hollowness of emptiness: yes, that sludge-dimension wherein the sarcasm of the Lord has waned with the flickering and waning of the Lord's most potent match and phosphorus.