Greenland Husky

Source: Bigstock

Booze and antibiotics may not be the best cocktail for a column. But hey, that’s the fun.

A week ago I bit down on an M&M peanut and it sliced through the soft tissue beneath my bad tooth (56 years old and I’ve only ever had one cavity, but like Babe Ruth at bat, you only need one), and the result was a serious jaw infection. And that’s the most faggoty way a man can die.

“What killed David Cole?”

“A piece of candy.”

“A poisoned piece of candy?”

“Nope, just regular candy. But he bit it wrong.”

“What an asshole!”

My jaw and cheek bloated like a balloon, so I figured I might as well join the Elephant Man Society (free shawls, head sacks, and jaunty caps are the perks of membership). I go to the Society’s website and the CAPTCHA is a click box that reads “I’m not an animal.”

And that’s the best fucking gag I’ve ever written and the fact that most of you won’t appreciate it floods me with rage.

I went to urgent care and got a massive dose of amoxicillin-clavulanate. I was told it might harm my kidneys, but bring it on because my one and only thought that day was me, in Alfred Molina voice, telling Peter Parker, “I will not die an Unz.”

The drugs worked and the Elephant Manning receded, but as amox/clav produces Vesuvius-level diarrhea, I turned to my favorite appetite suppressant—booze—to make the week bearable, even though mixing alcohol and heavy antibiotics is not the best idea.

But if I lived my life based on “the best idea,” you wouldn’t be reading me right now.

I’m only a public figure because discretion is not my better part.

Drugged and drunk was the wrong week to learn that K’eyush the Stunt Dog died. Key was my favorite YouTube star. A U.K.-based huskamute of impossible magic and charm, his daily antics amassed 2.1 million subscribers. And last week he died, at age 10, and every pet owner’s been through that situation where one random day your best buddy is eating too little or drinking too much and the vet’s like, “Aaaaand, he’s dead.”

After a lifetime of having pets, I’m never gonna put myself through that hell again.

I never met Key, I don’t know his mom, Jodie. But for the six years since my dad died, those videos have cheered me every day.

After I die, if I’m fortunate enough to receive an audience with my Creator, I’ll tell Him, “Thank you for a fine life; I’m truly grateful.”

But then I’ll pause and add, “But for fuck’s sake, what’s with dogs living such short lifespans? That makes no fucking sense. Greenland sharks live 400 years. Yet you give us dogs, these magical animals, these proofs of your existence because nothing so beautiful can occur by chance, and you take them away in the blink of an eye. It’s like you’re trolling us.”

This is God daring man to be atheist by giving us worthless sharks that outlive nations and perfect best friends whose untimely death we know we’ll be forced to witness.

Some cocksucker shark lives 400 years, while a joyous beast like Key dies in ten…if that’s a random evolutionary fluke, okay, sure. We get that. Randomness need not make sense. But you introduce the idea that there’s intelligent design behind it, and before you know it God’s sending you to the dry-erase board because only heavy rationalizing can make any sense of it.

Hence Romans 9, where Paul chastises the skeptics by telling them that the clay mustn’t question how the potter uses it.

Less read is Romans 9½, where some jerk asks, “But if the potter purposely creates sentient clay that can comprehend anomalies, isn’t it the potter’s fault when the clay acts exactly as it should, considering what the potter imbued it with?”

And then Paul just kicks the guy in the dick (when Paul’s had enough of your shit, no rod is spared).

’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved.

Faith soothes the fear created by faith. Nobody ever put it better than Charles Schulz, very much a man of faith. Lucy tells Charlie Brown that God sends us adversity to strengthen us. Charlie Brown asks, “Strengthen us for what?” And Lucy replies, “The adversity he sends.”

That’s so brilliant, and in a 1966 comic strip, no less. I read it as a kid and it’s been with me ever since. That’s the genius of good writing; it sticks with you. Like how later tonight you’ll suddenly realize, “Wait, did Cole call a shark a cocksucker? How’s that possible with no lips?”

Faith is not jeopardized by death. Faith is jeopardized by lack of sense in death, an unseen shark living 400 years and a globally beloved dog living ten.

Serial killers are turned on by the notion of being godlike. God possesses the power of life and death, so if you take life, you become like God. Serial killers, in their sickness of mind, are aping God. Now, other than by taking lives, how else can a psychopath become “godlike”? By testing your faith, provoking you to doubt your belief in an orderly universe.

That’s why human psychopaths sow confusion and uncertainty. “The California wildfires were direct energy weapons! The Sandy Hook massacre was an Obama false flag! Paul Pelosi’s attacker was his gay lover! The Holocaust is a hoax. The 2020 election was stolen.” What I call JURMCO—Jones, Unz, Rogan, Musk, Carlson, Owens, that cesspool of liars who grow fat off bending the truth to make you question reality (“Doubt everything!” “This looks SUSPICIOUS!” “Killer elites have trapped you in the Matrix!”)—is, in terms of psychology, in terms of wanting to be godlike, similar to serial killers. Just as serial killers want to ape God’s least loved trait—taking lives—JURMCO desires to ape God’s second least loved trait—taking the security you find in believing that events make sense and upending it, provoking you into questioning if anything really makes sense at all.

JURMCO is all about causing a crisis of reality. Because that is godlike. In a perfect world, the good would live long and the bad would die. But God demands faith from a world in which things don’t always proceed “as they should.” Where a 5-year-old dies of cancer and George Soros lives to be 100. And God’s literally like, “I dare you to retain faith in the face of this.”

And if we have faith, we do. Our faith tells us that when God takes a life (or “calls someone home,” or however you phrase it), it’s for the best. We may not “get” it, but it’s for the best. Conversely, when a serial killer takes a life, we know it’s evil. We don’t have to “sleuth it out”; it’s self-evident.

Similarly, when God presents us with things that make us question if there really is any linear sense to the world, when we have terrible, dark moments when our human mind, engineered as it is to forge order out of chaos, begins to fail us in the task—our faith can bring us back. We trust that things make sense even if we can’t suss out exactly how. Our faith leads us back to order. Conversely, when JURMCO preaches about how reality is false, how what’s right in front of you cannot be trusted, how everything you believe is a lie perpetrated by cabalists, we know that’s evil. Because JURMCO short-circuits human brains for grift money. JURMCO leads us away from order for base, vile reasons.

My serial killer analogy is correct. JURMCO loves it when it can discombobulate a human brain to the extent that the person becomes a physical threat to others. I’m sure Alex Jones jumped for joy when his “Pizzagate” cultist opened fire in the restaurant, and a few weeks ago when that same loon tried to kill a cop. Or when that Candace Owens superfan shot a young girl because it was the logical extension of Owens’ paranoid preaching. Or when Andrew Torba made Gab a place to plot the murder of Jews, leading to a synagogue mass shooting. I’m quite certain that when that pardoned J6er tried to kill a cop, Tucker and his J6 conspiracy nuts were inconsolable that the rioter died, not the cop.

Imagine Tuck’s ebullience had his J6 theories led to the murder of a police officer.

Now that’s godlike. Cops caused J6, and now the Gospel of Tuck has caused a cop’s death.

Don’t fret, Tucker. The cop didn’t die this time, but keep at it.

I’ve spent my time at Takimag trying to explain to you folks, long before JURMCO became a thing, that the people who rend your reality are cancerous. For a decade, with every mass-shooting “false flag” claim, every “truther” lie, the Paul Pelosi attack, the “unburned California trees,” the baby-eating “Frankists,” the “killer Venezuelan vote-stealing machines,” the supposed anomalies of Holocaust history, none of which are actual anomalies—I’ve tried again and again to explain how there is always a perfectly logical reason for everything the brain-fryers exploit to try to separate you from your reality.

Every time a rightist sleuther shows you something and says, “That’s suspicious!” there’s always a simple answer. And it’s ironic that when Tucker was exposed as a reader of mine thanks to a document dump after he was sued by a killer Venezuelan vote-stealing machine, it was revealed that a 2020 column of mine he enthusiastically recommended in private emails was one in which I explained the difference between “noticing” and “sleuthing.” The former is seeing what’s in front of you; trusting your eyes, trusting reality. The latter is the deceit of those who say, “No, eyes and reality are not to be trusted! Come to the dry-erase board and I’ll explain the invisible web that hides behind what you falsely take to be reality.”

Funny that the column of mine Tucker recommended is one that, had he actually followed, would’ve saved him from the defamation suit that exposed him as a reader of mine.

And look, I can tell you why Greenland sharks live forever and large dog breeds don’t: Greenland sharks have a metabolism so slow, their cellular deterioration is snail-paced. Large dog breeds, on the other hand, have rapid cellular deterioration due to breeding for size/accelerated puppy growth coupled with increased oxygen free radicals/oxidative stress that causes cellular damage, leading to increased susceptibility to disease, especially cancer (an oversimplification, but you get the idea).

But knowing the science doesn’t lessen the tragedy. It might make scientific sense, but it doesn’t make benevolent Creator sense that a perfect dog like Key who existed to bring joy to millions of people is given to the world, then snatched away so quickly.

To make that make sense, a little faith is needed.