Your Destiny is Death

I was the valedictorian of my high school. Of course.

It was early in my existence that I learned the value of a well placed bribe. Do you think the high school nurse used rectal thermometers on all her students?

When my days there were dwindling I felt it my duty to impart some of my wisdom on the lesser lights I had the misfortune of sharing the halls with lo those many years. (Subsequently I would come to the conclusion that such wisdom was wasted on chattel destined for ignominious death, but I was a naive youth in many ways.) In the spirit of generosity I endeavored to become the valedictorian, so as to be able to deliver the farewell address to the cretins who so stained my formative years. It was most magnanimous of me, though I did selfishly take pleasure in knowing that I was depriving the long winded girl who, by study and hard work, had achieved grades that rightfully would have given her the honor. Lesson learned babycakes, effort is largely wasted, and cash conquers all.

I strode to the podium somewhat erect, not my posture mind you, but my penis, as my favored organ had a habit of spontaneously arousing in those days, as I was wont to spend idle moments dreaming of girls tawny and loose. How little has changed come to think of it.

Luckily my robes concealed what would have been a distraction from my words, and after casting a withering and dismissive glance at the "educator" who introduced me, I spat a hello to the assembled and began my address:

"Though I know that the majority of those present today are ignorant slobs, looking forward to nothing more than this evenings repast of fried food and shit on TV, I shall deign to attempt to enlighten you, with the hopes that perhaps one or two of my fellow graduates here today will take a word or two of what I say, and with it, glean some measure of happiness in the years of torment and futility that are sure to follow this humble ceremony.

This grotesque assembly of "teachers" sitting behind me spent four years inculcating your mind with crap and rote nonsense, whereas I, in one sentence, will deliver more insight than they have been able to give you in ten thousand. I quote Sophocles,

"O ye deathward going tribes of men! What do your lives mean except that they go to nothingness?"

Clap your slobbering jaws up for a moment to ponder that! You may thank me with your words later, and for some of your more attractive ladies you may thank me with your bodies, but for now truly grasp what I have told you. Did I waste your time with platitudes about the beauty of existence? With drivel about seizing the day and being all you can be? You cannot! Do you think you are special? Engaging in this pathetic ceremony as so many have before you, destined to live a little life and die one day, largely forgotten, your only impact to squeeze out another wretched person who will emulate you and too waste their days with petty struggles.

Oh there is no doubt that one or two of you are thinking you are special. You condemn your fellow classmates to obscurity but believe that you are destined for greatness. And perhaps you are! Perhaps a future Napoleon or Beethoven sits here before us. And so what? Do not worms crawl over their bones now? Any praise you have for them now brings them no joy, for they cannot hear it.

I urge you to abandon any idea of going to college. It is a waste of time. Think not of religion. Dear god I cannot believe in this day there exist people who still cling to such a ridiculous charade. If you wish to seize something let it be the juicy morsel of fruit nearest you, whether it be a succulent pineapple slice, or the heaving bosom of the girl in your math class who would not favor you with a glance all these years, though you let her copy your homework that time...

It was then that the microphone was seized from me, in a act of wanton rudeness. I was ushered from the stage with force, despite my protestations as valedictorian, and I launched my square graduation hat in protest, and achieved a measure of satisfaction when I saw its point strike an especially odious administrator in the groin.

Looking back I see that my words were wasted, and I would have been better served had I simply burned the building down, or skipped the ceremony entirely, and spent the day with someone brown and warm and soft.