Shitlord in the Anus of Madness [1of5]
A Fecal Transplant Odyssey
Like all great artists do, Shia tried to become his art. He tried to be a force for good in the world. He tried to change minds. He tried his best to elevate consciousness, to help people realize their potential for self-actualization. He tried to enable them to become like him: master of their own destiny. To not let their dreams be dreams. But instead, he ended up exhausting his social capital, leaving sloppy personal messes in his wake which could not be cleaned. He became unemployable. Toxic. He was pushed out by those who had once accepted him. He was dumped. Now, he hungers for the success that he once tasted.
Shitlord in the Anus of Madness
by Fabrina Glitchlace
“Perhaps the rediscovery of our humanity, and the potential of the human spirit which we have read about in legends of older civilizations, or in accounts of solitary mystics, or in tales of science fiction writers—perhaps this will constitute the true revolution of the future. The new frontier lies not beyond the planets, but within each one of us.” —Pierre Elliot Trudeau
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are fictional or are used fictitiously.
00. Prologue
“Civilization is a process, whose purpose is to combine single human individuals, and after that families, then races, peoples and nations, into one great unity, the unity of mankind.” —Sigmund Freud
In the not-too-distant future: Globalization and corporate corruption of politicians leads to the acceleration of class conflicts. For a great many people, life is exceedingly shitty. Politics and diplomacy fail with increasing regularity. These crises precipitate change. Scientific breakthroughs and technological innovation step in to relieve the turmoil. A new world order is established. Civilization digests its new societal configuration quicker than ever before. Ready to emerge from within mankind is a lasting peace unparalleled in the anals of time.
01. Nature Calls
“Man creates culture and through culture creates himself.” —Pope John Paul II
I awake. Reverberated into consciousness. Half way through my sustained release of a massive fart. As the gas is expelled my dream involving a soap opera starring Bill Shatner seeps back into the aether. Upon completion of my powerful blasting, I roll onto my back, open my eyes, and greet the light of a new day with a smile. I don't mind the smell. I welcome it. I've been constipated for almost a week. This morning's trumpeting is a harbinger of change. I'm happy for the first time in recent memory. A womb-like warmth envelops me. Still smiling, I close my eyes, nuzzle my head into my pillow, and drift back to sleep.
My name is Shia. I am almost 47 years old. I used to be a celebrity. A content creator. A real artist. But nobody has been a fan of anything I have produced for a while. I am not famous anymore. I am financially stable and my investments ensure I won't have to work for the rest of my life. But I am deeply unsatisfied. I’ve been in steady decline. A prolonged personal fall from grace. With each passing day my existential pain grows, fueled by periodic pangs of self consciousness about my lack of creative output and status.
Like all great artists do, I tried to become my art. I tried to be a force for good in the world. I tried to change minds. I tried to help people realize their potential for self actualization. I tried to enable them to become, like me, the master of their own destiny. To not let their dreams be dreams. I tried my best to elevate consciousness. But instead, I ended up exhausting my social capital, leaving sloppy personal messes in my wake which could not be cleaned. I became unemployable. Toxic. I was pushed out by those who had once accepted me. I was dumped. And now I hunger for the success that I once tasted.
Last month I rediscovered one of my many unpublished art projects. Started half a lifetime ago, the project involved several jars of my frozen feces. While not their intended purpose, I am now putting those turds to good use. I rehydrate them with one cup warm water mixed with one cup of apple and cinnamon oatmeal. Each morning for breakfast and each evening for dinner, I eat it. I have been enthusiastically ingesting it twice daily for a week. No one on Earth finds the practice at all disgusting. Everyone is doing it.
02. The Product
“Eat me.” —Lewis Carroll
One drunken night almost a decade ago, I befriended a hobo who called himself Ognar. I was stumbling around Venice Beach, when the old man sat up from between some bags and cardboard, startling me. For a split second, the derelict's wild sparkling eyes locked with mine, and he shouted:
"We are all slaves!"
He was very weathered. He could have been anywhere between 50 and 90 years old. His hair was a matted skullet, and there appeared to be granules of sand, or perhaps lice, in his unruly eyebrows. His complexion was pockmarked, oily, and uneven. He clearly had not bathed in a while. And, at the time, nomming even a lower tier product was certainly out of his price range, but apparently not outside his sphere of awareness. Despite his appearance and introduction, he ended up being surprisingly educated and eloquent. At some point in his past he had been a somebody.
He went on to tell me that advances in human civilization were always preceded by revolutions in science and technology. He said that the 19th Century was fueled by Chemistry, the 20th governed by Physics, and our 21st century belonged to Biology. He was drinking Aqua Velva while he said something like:
"It is a revolution about the nature of truth, and the truth about a revolution in nature. But first and foremost --it is a bowel movement."
At the time I had no idea what he might have been going on about, but today I'd have to say that dirty bum was absolutely right.
The groundwork was laid by cognitive neuroscience, evolutionary psychology, genome mapping, and epigenetic engineering. The tipping point was reached with the expanding of scientific knowledge about humanity's silent symbiotic partners: our gut bacteria. This came to be known as The Microbiome Revolution. The advancement of this field obsolesced large swaths of the social sciences. Human personalities, energy levels, moods, focus, body types, and even IQ, were all linked to electrochemical feedback interactions with previously disregarded intestinal flora. Gut Microbiota was discovered to be our brain's co-pilot in almost all variables affecting human lives.
It was a discovery of scientific understanding... but the technology of the product wasn't exactly new. The Product was a luxury secret passed back and forth for millennia exclusively between royal families, aristocracy, and other privileged individuals inhabiting the upper decks of human social strata. Marriages were arranged because of it. Agriculture developed to feed it. Exploration and colonization were inspired by it. Animals hunted to extinction to nourish it. Mergers and acquisitions were conducted to favor it. The Product was the reason the laws of man never seemed to fully benefit all mankind. People who participated in the traditions didn't know why they did. To them, secretly eating shit was an ancient custom that just felt right.
Well into the 21st century, regular use of The Product resided in the realm of ridiculous rumor. The marketing and advertising never reached the general population. A rare few specialized doctors prescribed The Product. A smattering of online video tutorials existed conducted by unconvincing, anonymous, low talking nerds. Among the vast majority of humanity, the Product remained either unknown or taboo.
All throughout the 20th century was speculation about celebrity couples being unions of public relations and promotional convenience. And while that was true, it was not the primary purpose of such couplings. Nor was genuine personal affection their motivation. The reason A-list celebrities like Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie partnered was simply because it was more economical than buying each other's Product via middlemen. Becoming a couple was far less demanding than joining a crap-collective like Scientology.
As long as there has been civilization there has existed a very lucrative market for upper-crust guano. As use of The Product gradually spread, the interests of the rich and famous aligned, uniting them with the same goals. Eventually enough power was concentrated: top-down changes could be efficiently forced to accelerate the bottom-up revolution. Due to a confluence of disparate technological progress and lax government regulations, near the end of the first quarter of the 21st century, the time was right for The Product to be provided to the masses.
The Product initially gained popularity among the common people as an obscure hipster novelty, provided by the company Soylent Brown Corporation. The first form to become widely available was marketed as Polished Turds. A week's supply consisting of seven quarter-sized beads, the entire package could fit in the palm of your hand. They were meant for ingestion. To be swallowed whole. They were sleek, glossy, and made of 100% pure human shit. A joke gift... quite often sitting at the back of a freezer. Waiting. Until one day, curiosity or boredom got the better of the recipient, and The Product was consumed.
Those that tried it loved it, and went on to proselytize its use without shame. Over a very short time, body types, capabilities, and psychometrics were leveled to that of the Product’s producer. The measurable physical and cognitive benefits caused an explosion of use. Subscribers to The Product found themselves socially sorted out: extroversion, openness, agreeableness, conscientiousness, neuroticism --all put into harmony. People were optimized. Individuals were no longer held back from being fully functional members of society. The secret was out.
For the right price one could regularly colonize their insides with the most successful, desired, and worshiped celebrity idol digestive bacteria. The initial disgust reaction was overpowered by the practical benefits, the taboo faded, and use of The Product was normalized. It became the most widespread and effective health and diet supplement fad ever. The Product transformed society. Almost overnight it became a signifier of style and status, very much like fashion. One could discern a lot about an individual based on the brand to which they subscribed, and vice versa. People nomming the same brands tended to like similar things, and even vote the same way. Jargon around use of The Product evolved and informal slang like, “whoya nommin'?” became almost as ubiquitous as, “Hi, how are ya?” Soon there were people famous not for their talent, their fortune, or anything they would do... but solely for their brand of Premium Product.
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