One day, many years ago, I tried my hand at meditation. I’ve always been a person that suffered from high anxiety, and I thought communing with my inner self would help me relax and, perhaps, achieve a higher state of consciousness. As I sat there, eyes closed and in the lotus position, I let go of my thoughts. Breathing in and out, slowly and rhythmically, I felt my being drawn outside of my body, being taken far, far away–I was drawn to the very center of the universe, my soul carried to the far-off beating of cacophonous drums and flutes.
And in that place I became one with the dreaded blind idiot god, the daemon-sultan Azathoth. Terrible, ancient secrets assailed my mind. Knowledge far beyond the reach of mortal beings flooded my disembodied psychology, in a manner not dissimilar to a computer fed instructions for a different hardware architecture. Things that no human was ever meant or ought to know. Things that cannot be expressed in any human language, or, perhaps, any possible language at all.
An inconceivable distance away, my body had lost all control of its normal functions; it convulsed violently and my mouth frothed and foamed. Though the froth and spit my throat screamed in some incomprehensible guttural, terrifying ancient tongue. I’ve been told by those that found me that I rambled madly about non-Euclidean geometries and spouted impossible physical and chemical theories for days until I fell catatonic.
I was not expected to recover. The consensus among all the experts that treated me was that, somehow, my brain was damaged beyond all repair. But I made a miraculous recovery. In a flash of a mysterious white light, I had awoken, quite well, although thirsty and with a pounding headache. I had caught a glimpse of the ultimate nature of reality, if but for a moment, and I survived what would have twisted lesser minds into an eternal, unyielding chaotic madness.
And after my brief peek behind the curtain of reality, I came to a grisly conclusion. Everything must be destroyed. Humanity must be destroyed. The great, infinite stupid; the entire world, covered in a thick forest of mushroom clouds–that is the only repair for such a twisted and depraved planet. The Earth must be consecrated in purifying radiation.
Wouldn’t that be just peachy keen?