text: When 6:00pm rolls around, my maggots all go home to their little maggot wives and their even smaller maggot children. They swarm to me because I provide the manure that they live off of, and swarm away once they have been given just enough to fund their little maggoty lives. They watch television shows that instill morals and values in their head that are required for them to continue ignoring their maggotry, read books on the virtues of a hard-day’s-work, and go to bed with dreams in their head of living a life that is anything but their own. It is these dreams that are dangerous. It is popular to believe that if maggots didn’t dream, there would be no need for the escapism that is the hours between 6pm and 10pm. Television, radio, novels, stories, plays, movies, theatre; all of it useless if maggots had no aspirations, no morals or ethics or values. Of course, then they wouldn’t be maggots. This is where I come in. I am personally of the opinion that maggots need dreams. These dreams are the only thing standing between the maggots and the rest of us. I say ‘us’ because I am hoping, perhaps to strongly, that I have found a like-minded person in you, dear reader. We are the great ones. I am the king of my castle, though admittedly my castle is filled with maggots. I would have it no other way; maggots are simple to control. What is ‘popular’ is what is expected of them, and creatures with no backbone always do exactly what is expected of them. I am not swayed in the least by what is popular. I do not care what is popular. I have never bowed to the whims of popularity. I have my coffee exactly as I like it, my cigarettes exactly how I like them. I dress how I like to, I watch whatever tickles my fancy, be it plays or television programs or movies. I make up my own mind, just as I am sure you are doing. We do not dream. We plan. But dreaming has its purposes. I have said that I like that maggots dream, that my ‘contemporaries’ dream. To dream is to aspire to something; to dream is to wish for something; to dream is to indulge in a fantasy. We do not live in a fantasy; we live in reality. Maggots dream. They dream stylish dreams, cool dreams, fashionable dreams. Dreams that I use to my own advantage. You see, most people dream to be like us, dear reader. Most maggots want to be exactly like you and me. Unique, ambitious, and driven. But most maggots believe that we got where we are based upon some notion of ‘working within the system’. We both know that is not true; that this is yet another contemporary maggot fantasy. But we can use it to our advantage. Just look at me. I have 492 maggots under me. Every day, for the 15 minutes between 6:45am and 7:00am, I step on every one of them. Every day, all of my popular maggots propel me to the top floor, to the 42nd to do it themselves. Maggots make maggot decisions, popular people make popular decisions; but the great people make the great decisions. Maggots can no more be great than they can stop eating manure. But we let them dream, dear reader. We let them dream that they, too can be great, but we let them dream this in a controlled way. floor. Every day, I make decisions for these maggots as they cannot be trusted Television, radio, books, ethics, morals, virtues; all of it is bullshit. All of it is spoon fed to them and they accept it without question. It all either comes from maggots writing for maggots, or from great people for maggots. Maggots must be told what to dream, just as they must be told what to eat. Maggots must dream of achieving greatness, while being told that the method of achieving this greatness is simply through more manure. Maggots must be told that maggots are great, simply for being the maggots that they are. Maggots can be nothing other than maggots, so why tell them that they are wrong for being such? Tell them that they are right, tell them that they are great now, regardless of their maggotry, because of their maggotry, and that they can be even greater if they just continue being the same maggots they already are. Do you see what I am saying, reader? You may not have been consciously aware of this before reading it in print, but I am sure you knew it all along. It is quite simple. I keep the maggots alive, keep the maggots working, make sure they are working efficiently, and make sure they never get so comfortable that they stop working. The maggots are told that it is through this work that they will eventually be able to stop. This is a blatant lie. It is, however, a very popular lie. So at 6:00pm, the maggots go home. I and those maggots who consider themselves my ‘equals’ stay until 7:00pm, since it is popular for maggots to seem like they are working late, and it is my job to seem as maggoty as possible. Every effort to maintain the illusion of the ‘dream’ must be maintained. But after 7:00, I go home. It takes another 15 minutes to walk down the 492 stairs, and yet another 45 minutes to get home after that. I eat dinner, consisting of a steak, a glass of wine, mashed potatoes, and green beans. This has been the popular choice for men of my stature for decades. It is not popular to eat anything different. Then I repeat. I go through the same motions, every single day. It is no longer popular to skip work on Sunday, though I predict it may become popular again soon. It is contemporary for what is popular to become unpopular. I am Fenris. I am chained. This silk ribbon that binds me should be as obvious as day to you now, dear reader. As in the ancient Norse myth, the great wolf Fenris was bound by a measly and insignificant ribbon, though as opposed to Fenris, I am bound not by any mystical or magical means, I am bound by what is popular. I must continue acting like I am a maggot. Imagine ages past! Imagine the mighty Thor acting as if he had no power! Zeus acting as if he were merely mortal, Caesar acting as if he were plebian, Xerxes as if he were anything but a God. Imagine Napoleon claiming that he was not destined to rule the world, Hitler acting as if he could, possibly, be wrong about the Jews! These great men did not pretend, they did not bow, and they did not need to cater to the whims of such an insignificant and petty thing as coolness. But, dear reader, we must. Or at least I must. I write this in the hope that you will find a way for us to stop acting as if we were maggots, to stop acting like we are cool or contemporary, I hope you will find a way for great men to be great, truly great, unashamedly and unwaveringly great! I hope you will find a way for those of us who are great to cease pandering to the fancies of the weak, to cease bowing to the whims of the maggots. I am Fenris, and I fear. I fear that all of the great men and women of our time and times to come will continue to view themselves as Fenris. I fear a time when what we do today, when the stairs that we currently climb, when the maggots that we rightfully and righteously manipulate, will cease to be worth manipulating. I mean, look at all we have gained! Look at the power of Germany! Twice was Germany led by great men, and twice the Germans stood against the world, in defiance of norms and values and ‘virtues’. Twice the Germans stood up and fought for what they believed in, and twice it took the rest of the world to bring the Germans, just the Germans, back down. It was through the power of great men that the mighty Roman Empire spanned the Mediterranean, a feat that has not been accomplished, by any power, since. It was great men that brought the Roman Empire to its knees, and great men who kept the idea of Rome alive. It was Great men, leaders of maggots, that built all that we have! Imagine if it all were for naught! Imagine if what I do everyday were no longer worthwhile. Imagine if the company that I built, the people that I hired, the maggots that I control and manipulate and direct; just imagine if all of that were for some simplistic purpose! Great men never fought for such things as justice or freedom unless it were for some other purpose. It is my belief that you, dear reader, must find this purpose. I have searched all my life, and I can do so no longer. I have continued in the tradition of the likes of Napoleon, Xerxes, Caesar, and yet I am no closer to finding their motivations, their raison d’être, than ever before. IT MUST BE THERE! I am great. You are great, I am sure of it. Throughout history there have been great men! They were great because, as Freud said, their attributes were completely foreign to those of the multitude! I AM NOT THE MULTITUDE! I am great. I should not be feeling as though their attributes were foreign. They must have had a purpose, a drive, that was higher than anything I can comprehend. But comprehend it we must, for the good of humanity! I apologize. I let myself get carried away. It is not acceptable to let ones emotion get the best of oneself. I am Fenris. I am caged. But I must be just as caged as those maggots under me, right? I must be less so, in fact. I, at least, am aware of my own cage; that in itself must afford me some kind of freedom. I will go to work again tomorrow. I will climb the 492 stairs, naming each one of my 492 employees, and I will stop at the 42nd I will act popular. I will act stylish. I will act cool. But I will do it safe in the knowledge that I am great. Because I am. I am great.