The coveted Genesis Award is given, each year, to the person who has done the most to return the world to the way it was at the time of, you know, Genesis.1

But the losers of the coveted Genesis Award were crying foul. Turns out the winner of the coveted Genesis award was really the bastard son of the distinguished panel of crack whore jurors -- formerly the US Supreme Court -- who'd chosen him to be this year's recipient of the coveted Genesis Award in the first place.

Still, no one could deny that, by means of excessive repetition and jumping impossible levels of recursion, the winner of this year's coveted Genesis Award had removed the constant static of everyday reality from peoples' lives -- and therefore probably deserved to win this year's coveted Genesis Award, anyway.

Previously, hysteria had distracted the people into being their own best/worst can of worms. But now, now that this year's winner of the coveted Genesis Award had leapt impossible levels of recursion and repetition and smashed everyday societal reality, you could no longer say about any of the people, anymore, that they had it entirely within themselves to be all they needed to go fishing.

After the Genesis Award ceremony, the winner of the coveted Genesis Award tried to cash in on the coveted Genesis Award itself, but apparently it wasn't that kind of award.

He thought back to the time when, in his present state of despair, he could have just sat down and had some searing interior monologue -- but we are way fucking past that crap in literature these days, and he knew it.

And, according to his myYahoo page, we are all cast adrift -- so what's to interior monologue about anyway?

"Hey! What's that over there on the right?!"

"Doesn't matter.... We've already drifted past it."

As a young fetus he had tried to abort his mother but the Supreme Court, his father, turned him down, 5-4. That's why they owed him -- and why giving him the coveted Genesis Award was their makeup call. Now they were even, and could look forward to a future of attempting to kill each other with impunity. Occasionally succeeding.

He grew up in a motive-free zone, where people had no need to manipulate you or be manipulated by you.

So when he entered the non-motive-free world at large, the social order all along his path suddenly got all fucked up for many minutes -- until the last few muon antineutrinos of him had decayed2 into anonymous positrons and he was gone from, first, local reality's PROBability, and, then, its POSSibility.

But when he was finally hired, he was hired to fulfill a need, not for the self he had mapped out in his head.

He was hired to put that self aside.

"If all you had to do was yourself," the application form had stated, "there wouldn't be any fucking reason for us to pay you. Or bother keeping you alive. Now would there be!"

His first assignment had been to watch a child born giving birth to a child born giving birth to a child born giving birth to another child born giving birth to yet another child, and so on to infinity, but it all happened so fast that no one noticed. -- Unless you played back the tape in ultra slo-mo -- which interpolates 10 frames of the quantum truth in between every 2 frames of the unquantum lie.

In this view it was easy to see what was happening. But if you looked....

If you looked... a whole 'nother fucking line of life, maybe it's from earlier years, or it's one that never existed, passes through your head.

And you realize suddenly, and without consulting any data base, that the moral of this story is -- "Fuck all stories and fuck all their fucking morals."

And fuck all the horses they rode in on.

1. Genesis the biblical book, not the prog-rock group, or Real World 7 castmember.

2. ...despite current disaffection with the idea of Neutrino decay.

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