If This Book Exists, You're in the Wrong Universe (John Dies at the End, #4)

by Jason Pargin

“I don’t want you shooting anybody today,” said Amy, “even if solving a complicated problem by shooting it is just about the most American thing I can imagine.

Mass gatherings in this town always made for great people-watching, especially if you liked seeing people get loaded into an ambulance.

Depression means expending all your energy to avoid having to expend energy. I wish someone would invent a pill that would give me the motivation to go pick up my Lexapro refill.

Humans will twist themselves into knots rather than admit that the unknown might be unknowable.

Humans, David had once told Amy, find nothing more enthralling than the act of exclusion.

Their true wealth is invisible to them because it comes in the form of what they’re missing: that constant hum of anxiety that sucks the energy from the rest of us. If their refrigerator craps out, they can fix it. If they fall down the stairs, their insurance will cover the hospital bill.

The most effective manipulation always comes with the illusion of choice; it feels less like a whip and more like quenching a thirst.

I am old. I feel the weight of my miles and years every time I roll out of bed. This society now mutates so quickly that I feel myself straining to keep up, becoming a fool in real time.

But that is how this universe works; we purchase safety and comfort with suffering.

When Joy looked at humans, she saw animals so detached from the food chain that their own boredom was eating them alive. None of their instincts made sense to them; they were primates adorning themselves in skins and shiny things, all swagger and posturing with no idea what it’s for.

That was why she loved the nursing home; the residents were humans stripped of all their pumped-up self-regard, scared and forced to put their whole trust in someone else for the first time since childhood.

“The cardiologist tells me that all I require is a regimen of medications that each carry obnoxious side effects and also to give up every single vice that makes my life worth living.”

1. Everybody Calm the Fuck Down Humans act like assholes when they’re scared. Anybody who’s trying to keep you scared all the time just wants to breed more assholes into the world. Don’t let them do it.

Exactly 100 percent of religious apocalypse predictions have turned out to be hilariously wrong. The odds that the next one will be true seem pretty low.

If you truly think you’ve somehow stumbled across a superior way to live, there is only one way to spread the word: Live that superior life and let others see how cool, happy, and successful you are. They’ll spend the rest of their lives trying to imitate it.

2. You Don’t Have All the Answers (and That’s Okay) Every human believes in some kind of simplified Grand Theory of Everything that explains existence. The problem is that there are multiple competing theories. In fact, there are about seven billion of them, one for every human on earth. Admit that the odds are pretty slim that you alone have it exactly right.

If you embrace a Grand Theory of Everything that gives you permission to treat other people like shit, it’s likely that you started with the urge to treat people like shit and just worked backward to form your theory. Open your eyes, dude: They’re not heretics, they’re your neighbors.

3. Never Forget That You Are Meat The one thing we know for sure about our possibly simulated world is that we are experiencing it via meat. All your thoughts are running through meat, and therefore, a lot of what you’re perceiving about the universe is just meat stuff. Feel like the world is doomed? There’s a good chance that’s only because your meat isn’t getting enough sleep. Mad at everyone? It might just be that your meat is hungry. In a state of panic? Take deep breaths—you might just not have enough oxygen in your blood. If the world feels off to you, always check your meat first.