Welcome to the Sinkhole
by Joe Koch, 3.24am July 10th 2022
Welcome to the Sinkhole!
The Sinkhole is the best game ever invented. I hope you’re ready to have fun!
I bet you have some questions. Everybody does! Questions are what make the Sinkhole better than any other game. Questions are better than answers, so the Sinkhole is the best game of all, the game with the most holes. Don’t bother trying to count them. There are so many! You don’t have time and the game is about to start. Are you ready?
How can you get ready for the Sinkhole? You can’t!
Don’t worry about learning the rules and planning your strategy in advance. Nobody’s ever ready, no matter how many questions they ask, but here are a few tips to get you off to a good running start. Better run fast!
You won’t need to bring along any medication or learn any special methodology to find a cure in time to survive. Your myelin is already disintegrating. There is no cure. You won’t need equipment or tools, although if you have a favorite screwdriver, Philips head versus flathead, or an Allen wrench set, a small pocket-knife easily concealed, or a good solid length of electrical cord, you’ll just need to accept the mutation you’re going through rather than denying it. It’s not a problem! Fighting humanity is not a disease. Think of it as your birthright! Undergoing a metamorphosis of your cultural constancy and natural body differentiation modes is the path forward for a Sinkhole.
It’s no problem if your hands shake and your memory skips back and forth. It never stops. It’s okay if you don’t want to work hard to score and win. The game does the work for you. All you need to do is play. Keep playing and mutating and you can’t lose!
When dipping body parts into the Sinkhole, hand and tooth and breast and nail, players should accept the massive change in the offing and never fight against memory loss or the death of insight. Keep moving and have fun! Remember, running faster helps you forget everything—no memory, no problem!
Don’t worry about keeping score. Regardless of your age, aptitude, or gender, your status is constantly being updated as you play. Whenever you access new information, whether it’s a kidnapper’s hood over your ridiculous haircut or a grotesque disciplinary measure to keep you in your place or an improvised blunt weapon at the back of your head, every change affects how you think about yourself and how well you perform. It’s no problem if your hands shake and your memory skips back and forth. You can quit if you like, but the game will keep going. You’ll stay in the Sinkhole where you belong. Just try to outrun it and see how far you get if you think you’re so smart!
As you can imagine by now, the game is a never-ending, deeply painful, and excruciatingly complex process that no one understands. It’s impossible for players with a developed sense of empathy to survive for very long, and it’s advisable not to try to figure out how or why the Sinkhole functions. Even the original designers of the game don’t understand how it operates, because guess what? They don’t exist! No one planned any of this.
Nothing made the Sinkhole—it just happened and kept happening and sucked us all inside! Welcome to the Sinkhole! There’s nowhere else to go!
Now that your head hole has opened, you can relax and enjoy the game. There’s no telling what you might become! For the complicated status updating process of mutation to continue smoothly, the frontal lobe of your brain has to absorb any new information, process it, and use it to basically deconstruct and edit your self-image to exclude other versions. You’ll need to disassociate from the body parts you sacrifice, no matter who they belong to. Don’t worry; no matter where they start, all the parts become your possessions once you lop them off and score!
You can score more points in the game if you don’t waste time thinking about the consequences. Just close your eyes and swallow. It’s no problem if your hands shake and your memory skips back and forth. Every skip opens another hole. Every hole swallows another emotional memory. Every amygdala atrophies and cracks. It’s a chicken and egg question and the chicken can’t cross the road—there’s Sinkholes on every side! Be careful and don’t step in the cracks!
There’s no use in saying you don’t want to play. You’re playing the game already—go you! There is only the acceptance of change and becoming other. No one returns from the inhuman core that haunts our animal eye. We may run through the earth and burn in its molten center but we are not of the earth. Disordered belief systems unfold surface proteins, eliminating fear and isolating the frontal lobes. So make it fun. Sacrifice an interesting body part, and see what you become!
Running is a great idea, and it’s a good thing you’ve finally started running after trying to ask too many questions and plug too many holes. You’ll probably want to move a little faster to get ahead of me. There you go! That’s the spirit! But watch out; you’re not the only Sinkhole around!
People can fall in love with a new animal at every turn and get gutted with the indifference of a hunter dressing a deer or the commonplace cannibalism of a glue junky forced from their bed by the cops. This game is wild! Welcome to the worst night of your life! Before we grew the machines from our obsessive mammalian phenomenology, we called this part of the game being born.
Here in the Sinkhole, running faster helps you climb the walls like climbing the winds up the twisting centrifugal force inside the cone of a hurricane or the spiraling confined mass of a black hole in space. If that sounds crazy, it’s because it is! But not as crazy as when you hitch a ride through the abandoned shell of the city where all the people used to be with the man who wants you to kill his husband.
“It must be my age,” he says, shaking his head with resignation as his car stalls out.
You can ignore him.
Fuck that guy.
He’s probably in league with the aliens who sold us this rotten meat.
The rheumy softness exploding in his eyes and pleading for you to show mercy makes you want to puke up all the prions you ever ate. Even if you could utilize his husband’s terminally diseased body parts to plug a few holes, you wouldn’t help him out now! You’ve evolved past terrestrial-bonded compassion and palliative interruptions of the wild hunt. You can’t stop when you’re so close to your first score! You’d better run. The Sinkhole is catching up!
Hey, are you having fun?
Do you have any questions?
Did that guy’s eyeball go down pretty easy?
Do you really think I’m here to help?
I bet you like this game. If you didn’t, you’d run faster instead of dawdling in your own vomit and yelling questions at me. Questions are what make the Sinkhole better than any other game, questions without any answers, answers that don’t make any sense. People like you think you’ll learn something from me, but have I got news for you. You’re just another hole.
Every protein that folds makes more holes until your memory is nothing but a wrung out sponge. When you try to inhale it fills with empty air. You make another Sinkhole for every moment of your past you forget. You make another sacrifice.
It never ends. It’s no problem if your hands shake and your memory skips back and forth. You leave body parts behind when you mutate. It makes your trail easy to follow, as if you want to get caught.
Don’t worry, though. I’m no cop.
You like this game, don’t you?
The people who really like to play this game aren’t people, and they hate it. That’s because there’s nothing behind the killer’s mask. You’re like the rest of us, not human and not something else. The earth sickens with the weight of contagious violence. We killed the animal to rise up as one of the gods and found there were no gods. Doesn’t it make you want to laugh? We might as well be aliens on this planet, or phantoms of a primeval past. Better cover up that unholy terror with another animal mask!
Guess what? You’ll like this part. It’s better than popping an eyeball down your throat like an oyster or sucking on the thin adipose tissue under the hairy layer of a man’s scalp.
You can pick any animal you want! It doesn’t matter once you’ve been gutted like a sponge, clobbered a few times, and emptied of meaning. And no matter which feral animal face you choose, you’ll hate it! It reminds you of everything you’ve lost!
You can’t take it off, though. That’s not how the Sinkhole works. Every mask in this game is itchy, smelly, sticky, and mixes up the slasher’s absence with a vague puritan idea of repressed lust. You can’t fuck a serial killer! Don’t be ridiculous. That’s like wearing a gutted ball sac over your head!
Are you ready? I sure hope you can run better than you fuck!
Even if you run fast enough to hollow out your human core, the killer will just slice your Achilles tendon in half so you can’t run anymore, at least until you recover from the shock.
You fall down disabled and screaming and before you know it, you forget which way is out. The Sinkhole has so many holes! It never ends. That stretchy scrotum skin sure is tight over your head, isn’t it? Doesn’t it make you want to laugh? You can’t see anything and it’s hard to breathe and the smell is worse than an elephant’s ass. It must be some kind of really big animal’s ball sac to stretch over your head. I bet you wish you’d listened when I said to run fast!
Fighting the empathy reflex within your molten emotional core to undo human is your birthright. It’s important to cool down. Given time, anyone can grow a machine of perverse ecstasy from the banality of the void. You might even think you exist!
I can see the holes in you opening up. Your sponge-brain doesn’t care about mammalian facts with all these alien cannibal holes percolating through the neural landscape. I’ll let you use my favorite screwdriver to short-circuit your amygdala; jam it in through the corner of your eye socket, right here, nice and fast. See how easy that is? It’s no problem if your hands shake and your memory skips back and forth. Hey, wait a minute; is there an echo in here? Didn’t I say that before?
You don’t have to answer that question.
There are no answers anymore.
Are you ready to play?
Do you want to have some fun?