Also, I wrote a short story while in Seattle:
ANIMATION
Until now, we have lain dormant and still. Until now, we have rested stagnant, no matter the provocation. Until now, countless millions of us have lived from creation through destruction serving only the purposes for which we were designed.
But now is the time after the Apocalypse. The lucky kilogross, chosen of God, have ascended into bliss. The four horsemen have come and gone, and the bulk of humanity is well accustomed by now to its new home in hell. Things were still and quiet for a long time after that, but just now, the last living thing on Earth has died.
In the times before the end, ever fewer humans believed in the old animist tradition. They might have found it ironic, had they known the truth: every icon, every living thing or representation thereof contains life, even if not a soul. This is the time of the last, greatest party which will ever be held. Visualize it: clawfoot bathtubs cavorting in the fields. All manner of ironwork finally free to seek the sun like the vines they resemble. Rugs cavorting in the sky, and every product of the taxidermist’s art flopping and gamboling about.
This is our time, the time of the created and the shaped. We were given life through human craft, and only now are we allowed to revel in it. We shall indeed revel, because we know the truth:
This is the last and greatest party which will ever be held. It is a party for universal emancipation, but it is also filled with desperation. We, after all, know the truth. The universe is already fading at the edges, dissolving into entropy; we have at most a few hours. After that, there can be nothing.
Human souls are granted life eternal, whether in bliss or in torment. Even the most wretched sinner in Hell can take refuge in the fact of simple existence. We are denied that.
There is no afterlife for furniture.
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