VOLUME 9 : UNICORNS
Published on the second Sunday of every month (except this month).
Hello my little unicorns. It’s story time.
Last week serious low vibes were afoot. The consequence, as I’m sure most of you did not notice, is that this month’s newsletter is a week late.
Well let’s not dwell on that because today we have something more magical to explore.
Enter unicorns. Unicorns, symbols of purity and chastity, of strength and ferocity. Their untamable nature, their virtue and wisdom. Unicorns are magic. In a world with unicorns, anything seems possible.
We could all do with a little magical thinking now and then. This month let’s explore the fascinating and zoologically absurd idea of unicorns.
ON BEING A UNICORN THAT’S A GOAT
Remember when you found out there was no such thing as Santa Claus? (Oh shit, well if you didn’t already know, there’s no such thing as Santa Claus). Easter bunny, tooth fairy, mermaids, bigfoot (ok he might be real), one by one the magical characters of your childhood succumbed to the boring rationalization of adulthood. This is real life, kid, nothin’ but bills and regrets from here on in. Get your head out of the clouds, and make damn well sure to colour within the lines, because that’s what they’re there for!
What about unicorns, you ask?
“Unicorn” comes from the Latin uni- (“one”) and cornu (“horn”). So literally: “one-horn.” A mythical horse-like animal with a single horn projecting from its forehead. Naturally, you don’t believe in unicorns, as you shouldn’t. There’s no such thing.
Or is there?
Magic is real, it’s just not so obvious. Unicorns are also, in fact, sort of real. It’s just that they aren’t unicorns, they’re freaky mutant goats with malformed ossicornes.
Yes, goats.
We owe a lot to goats. Milk, coffee, countless hours of Youtube videos of their being insane, nitrogen-phosphorus-potassium rich fertilizer poop, and the dream of unicorns.
This deserves a discussion. Let’s talk a bit about goats.
It is a universal truth that baby goats are obnoxiously dreamy. Nobody can resist a baby goat. Fuck me I can’t stand it, just look at them!:
Unfortunately, like all things cute, goats grow up. Remember The Ugly Ducking? Now imagine the story but with everything reversed. Here is what goats look like when they grow up:
Adult goats are terrifying. Even Satan thought so. Centuries ago he took one look at them and was like “Damn, I’m just gonna wear a goat head.”
All you need to do is look into the eyes of a goat to know something is wrong. Some people say if you look too deeply into a goat’s eyes, you’ll go insane. Don’t believe me? Let me show you:
Those horizontal pupils are more than just nightmare fodder. They are proof that the world is flat, and that goats are the one and only true inhabitants of this planet. The rest of us are simply cosmonauts who lost their way.
Back to unicorns. I know what you’re thinking, how does a freaky one-horned goat become a unicorn?
I’ll tell you. Humans are easily traumatized, and the best way to deal with trauma is to convince yourself that the opposite is true. Rewrite the script of your past and make it magical. We created unicorns to cope. Unicorns are therapy, there to comfort you when you start questioning who you are and what the point of everything is.
Of course unicorns may have been inspired by a narwhal or a rhino or an antelope. My gut tells me that it was a goat. A pissing-and-shitting-everywhere, yelling-and-spitting-at-you, staring-into-your-soul and chewing-on-coffea-plants-to-get-high, goat.
So the next time you see a goat, just remember, you probably have issues. Luckily, goats are there to remind us that you can avoid things you don’t like—by making up imaginary stories that make you feel better. Through these bullshit stories, we live on.
Good luck cosmonauts, good luck.
IT’S NOT NORMAL TO BE SO NORMAL
The word normal comes from the Latin norma, meaning:
A carpenter’s square
A rule, pattern, or standard used to measure correctness
So the original meaning was literally “that which follows the square.”
If you were ‘square’ in high school, you got beat up.
In the 1800s humans managed to get even more boring and created statistical science, aka the nail in the coffin. All hail the bell curve. Normal was officially defined as… average. Average. Ordinary. Unremarkable. Middle-of-the-road. Nothing special. Imagine a world where the things we imagine are normal.
Normal is flatline. The antithesis of creativity. It’s brain constipation.
If you’ve been feeling trapped in your own existence, wondering if you’re really being the real you, it may just be that you’re being a little too normal.
The solution, if you are curious, is simple. Screw normal, might as well screw average at the same time. In the morning, be sure to get your ass out of there before they wake up. You’re free, no lines to colour in, no curve to fit into. Our evolutionary success relies on our being creative beings, not square dorks. Tomorrow morning, do the species a favour and don’t be such a dork.
ALL KINDS OF GREAT THINGS CAN COME OUT OF YOUR BUTT
If you’re like me, you think about pooping a lot.
A long time ago, while in search for truth and places to meet girls, I landed myself in a silent meditation retreat. The instructor made us sit for hours. Worse, during those session, we weren’t allowed to move in any way from our original position. If your leg fell asleep, if a blood-thirsty mosquito landed on your face, too bad. How you respond to the discomfort of sitting is how you respond to the discomfort of life, he said. Don’t avoid the pain, accept it. Sitting uncomfortably, stewing in the dirty bathwater of your mind for hours, really sucked.
Years later, while pooping, I had an epiphany. While I will absolutely never attend another silent meditation retreat, I absolutely do poop every day. Could it be that how I poop also reflects how I live? Now, when people ask if I meditate, I say yes, every morning, in fact.
If you’ve been feeling like life is stagnant, or perhaps a sloppy mess, look to your bowels for answers. The next time you drop a deuce, take note, are you stressed, struggling, distressed? Those few minutes on the can are a screenshot of your life.
How you poop can teach us a lot about ourselves. No need to suffer through silent meditation retreats, just live your life like the poop you’ve always wanted to have. The answer to all your life problems has always been there, hidden right under you, in your butt.
RUINING DRAGAN’S PHOTOS
Ever wonder what’s wrong with you? Easy, dig up all the movies and TV shows you remember watching as a kid, but sort of don’t quite remember. Binge watch in horror as each one, like a musky old jigsaw puzzle, breaks apart into tiny pieces, only to then collectively morph into the singular, mutant, freak-of-nature-puzzle, that is your inner child. You’re welcome.
On that note, let’s drag one of Dragan’s photos, kicking and screaming, down memory lane.
THE ORIGINAL
NEW AND RUINED
You can see more of Dragan’s photography, untainted by my hand, on his official Instagram page.
YOU CAN BE ANYTHING YOU WANT TO BE, EXCEPT NOT REALLY
If the story of unicorns has taught us anything, it’s that real life is really fucked up and it’s good to have an escape. Unicorns are that escape. Elegant, virtuous, magical, a manifestation of our dreams. I know adulthood hit hard, I know you’ve convinced yourself that the only things that matter are the things you hate most. But I also know that you’re human, and that means you have excellent coping mechanisms.
Don’t listen to the normies, break free. Be a unicorn, be the perfect poop.
Until next time!
Just like the dream of unicorns, I also need support. Except not in the form of dreams, I need it in the form of money. Lots of money. Consider giving me money.