Now you have to understand that many people who say they are (or are labeled as) postmodernists are not really postmodernists. They still believe, deep down, that environmentalists and feminists are absolutely, universally good, and Adolf Hitler and George W. Bush are absolutely, universally evil. When these people say they are postmodernists, what they really mean is “all these religions open hospitals and change the lives of criminals, and they all teach really similar things, so why can’t they just get along?”
If you asked Jerry Lee Pynchon the same question, though, he would have told you it was because if he was a Christian, the Muslims in his reality were all going to go to hell, and if he was a Muslim, all the Christians in his reality were going to hell, except maybe those whose good deeds outweighed their bad deeds during their lifetime. He would have added that they should be aware that this was only his perception of Muslims’ and Christians’ perceptions. He would have then added that Muslims and Christians probably were teaching the same thing, for the person speaking to him, while simultaneously teaching different things for himself. And then he would have added that this, too, was his perception. Because how can he be sure people labeled Muslims and Christians even exist? What is existence? What is language? What is everything in the world? Relative! But only for a postmodernist!
The question askers would have left very frustrated and confused, and that would be because Jerry Lee Pynchon was a true postmodernist.
--
Now, Jerry Lee Pynchon is surfing the internet at the start of our history. Or rather, was surfing the internet, because I would had to narrate the rest of the story in present tense. And so Jerry Lee Pynchon was surfing the internet in an apartment in Chantilly, Virginia, when he came across an ad requesting a teacher for Reed College’s new course titled “Understanding Postmodernism.” He decided he would apply for the job.
The application form had two blanks. The first blank asked for his telephone number. He wrote “703-376-8923” in this blank. The second asked if he was a postmodernist. He thought: “I am a postmodernist, but only in my perception of reality. For other postmodernists, postmodernism can be defined as voting democratic and thinking all those religions should all get along—but only in those postmodernists’ realities.” So he wrote: “It depends.”
As legend has it, out of all 3.25904 billion applications for the job, his was the only truly postmodern answer.
--
Jerry Lee Pynchon’s class was stupid.
His first assignment had been to read the white text on a white sheet of paper. He asked if they could, in all honesty, see the white text on the paper. They all admitted they could not.
So he devised a plan. He created an alphabet of lines. A line one millimeter thick would be the “a” of his alphabet, and a line 26 millimeters thick would be the “z.” His second assignment, then, was for his class to memorize the line alphabet. Again, they could not.
So he devised another plan. He wrote a book titled Ulysses II. For many of his students, Ulysses II was the most beautiful thing in the world. It made them cry and it made them laugh and it made them understand life through new eyes. The best part about the book was it got better and better with every chapter. The second best part about the book was it started adding a few neologisms somewhere in the middle and increased its neologism count until by the second to last chapter the whole book was written in neologisms, so the readers absolutely could not spoil the almost-ending of the book for themselves.
And so the stupid students devoured the book until the second to last chapter, where they found a note which read “Alro mauley haogagi mai” which translates “I am very sorry, but the last chapter, which contains the answer to life itself, is written in my line alphabet.”
--
By the time Jerry Lee Pynchon had finished the last chapter (which was 900 pages long and didn’t really have the meaning of life in it), word of Ulysses II had spread around the United States of America. The New York Times critics had read it through and hailed it as the greatest piece of literature in the history of the universe. The Washington Post praised it for its good writing and great themes and predicted his style as the next great literary revolution. The best part, in his opinion, was that every literature buff in the States had picked up a version of his line alphabet and learned it for himself or herself so that when the chapter was released, everyone completely understood every part of it.
Jerry Lee Pynchon was just getting started, however. His next step was to write ten more books in his line alphabet, with each book having lines within words getting increasingly closer. Then, on the last chapter of his tenth book, words became lines (looking something line this: ------- ------------------------ ----------- ----------------- --------- -- ----------------- --------- ----------------------------). Most readers, however, understood that a line of a certain length placed in a certain place within a sentence was probably this word or that word. The Chicago Tribune praised his works for being “haifor sorli ales” which in his own neologistic language translates as “catchy and written in a fun language to write in.”
In the following ten years, Jerry Lee Pynchon released ten more books. These books started with simple line-words so the audience could easily infer what the story was about, but got increasingly more complex and ambiguous so that by the tenth book, the lines could mostly mean absolutely anything. The Christian Science Monitor praised his work for being “-- ----- -- ----- --” which translates as “lodke” which translates as “revolutionary!”
In the ten following years, he released ten books with nothing but lines in them. By this time, line-writing had become as commonplace as written English.
In the following ten years, he began to curve his lines. Lines ran all over the page in mad scribbles. By this time, many great works of literature were translated into the line alphabet, including the two best books ever Ulysses II and the Bible. With the Bible’s translation, a curious phenomenon began: some preachers began preaching that Jesus was actually several people. Some others, in reply to this teaching, preached that Satan and God were one, and everything was one, and so Jesus was actually only one—it says so in the Book of Lakos, after all.
While all of this happened, Jerry Lee Pynchon found all the members of his no-longer-stupid class and handed them diplomas.
--
When Jerry Lee Pynchon was 72 years old, he found a malignant tumor in his throat. The doctor who discovered it told him the cancer was very advanced and he had no chance of living. He tried to tell the doctor “it’s funny, because I always wondered what that lump in my throat was” but the lump was so big by now he could no longer move his vocal cords.
That night, as he lay in his hospital bed, something happened (and don’t ask me how I know this): Ahura Mazda, the Creator of the Universe, came to him in a vision.
“Jerry Lee Pynchon, you will die in a week,” he said. “How many good things have you done in life, and how many bad things have you done in life? Can you say for certain that you are going to heaven?”
Jerry found he could speak. So he said “I have done mostly what I thought was good, but what do you consider good, Ahura Mazda?”
“Jerry Lee Pynchon, goodness is converting other people to Zoroastrianism.”
“Is that how my reality operates? In that case, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Jerry Lee Pynchon, I thought you knew already. Creation testifies to my existence. But right now I am very lonely because nobody worships me any longer. If you bring back all my worshippers, I will not send you to hell.”
Jerry Lee Pynchon thought for a while.
“Why can’t you appear to these people yourself?”
“That is because I want to display my power through one of your students. I have appeared to her in a dream as a voice asking her to ask you for the meaning of life. All things work out for my plan.”
Jerry Lee Pynchon sighed. “So you’ve fated me to convert her?”
“No, Jerry Lee Pynchon. You might fail. I have chosen to turn a blind eye to what happens in the future and to only influence the present.”
“I can’t see why you don’t just appear to everyone like this. The people going to hell might have been saved if you would just have appeared before them.”
“Jerry Lee Pynchon, will you or won’t you do it?”
“Alright. I’m only doing this because my reality demands that evangelizing will get me to heaven. For other people, you may not exist.”
Ahura Mazda metaphorically scratched his head.
--
A week later, a voiceless Jerry Lee Pynchon was approached by one of his graduate students.
“Teacher,” she said. “I have been looking all my life. You never did tell us the meaning of life in Ulysses II, did you?”
He smiled and shook his head.
“Teacher, what is the meaning of life?” And with that, she gave him a piece of paper and a pencil.
Jerry Lee Pynchon began to write. He wrote for five hours, until every page on the notebook was filled with text. When he was finished, he handed the notebook back to the woman.
She studied it for a very long time. Then she nodded her head and left.
That night, he died.
On the channel ------- news, the lady told everyone that what he was trying to say with these 40 pages of squiggles was that you could make your meaning whatever you want it to be. Everyone thought this final work was insightful and deep. A few of his students could not hold back their tears at the beauty of it.
