The Coming of General Snobbery
It was a calm, cloudy summer’s eve of the year two thousand and fifteen that found old friends Matt and Sean sitting at table on the deck of a Midwestern monastery, enjoying cool beverages of what is commonly termed "the nectar of the gods." Having recently erupted into fits of laughter regarding various moments of Jurassic Park, most notably the scene of Newman’s death, the friends pondered amidst the chirping of summer crickets the nature of this joyous, illuminating conversational style that seemed to flow from their souls like waterfalls from the depths of the Amazon.
It was then that the two friends noticed a dim glow hovering between them. Checking their totems to confirm they were not dreaming, the friends discovered that as they focused on the mysterious glow, so the glow expanded. Upon their reaching out to touch it, a great rumbling erupted beneath them, and the glow shone a brilliant white light, so powerful and wonderful that both men instantaneously burst into floods of tears.
Then there came a deep, booming voice, a voice sourced from the earth’s molten core, echoing through the opening skies. The voice commanded their weeping to cease, impelling their gazes to the shimmering light.
The sphere of light opened, and from its core, there rose a figure. O his frightening visage! O his extra-dimensional gaze! He was both colorless and colorful, both silent and deafening. Awe-inspiring, sublime, ancient and true, the figure could not be depicted in a tongue yet known to the beings of dimensions three. The figure rose high, oscillating in a dazzling show of light and shape beyond the established boundaries. From his position of nobility and truth, he made known his identity.
He was General Snobbery, ruler of the unseen echelons of heightened conversation, appearing through cultures and eons to those mortals worthy of extra-dimensional awareness.
The people of the third dimension, the General explained, fear the Art of Snobbery, for these people fear what is powerful. Yet in these times of hopelessness, of directionless wandering in the search for meaning, it has become essential to unfold for these beings what realms exist beyond their established limitations. These are the realms accessible only by the true snob, who through their snobbery glimpse the esoteric joy and infinite wisdom of fourth dimensional awareness. And the true snob rests not until the art of snobbery uplifts all living creatures into this eternal realm.
“My brothers,” spoke the General in meditative compassion, “you have recognized that your conversation has assumed an extraordinary form known not to the beings of the world you inhabit. In your recognition, you have proven your worth. Thus, I endow unto you my mighty torch, that you may spread forth these flames of truth to the ends of the earth and beyond.”
Frightened and amazed, the old friends asked the bellowing figure what they must do to spread the sacred word.
The General coughed a mighty cough that quaked the sacred and holy night. He raised his arms of brawn and brilliance, and from the ether he summoned two objects the friends had never seen before. The objects drifted like feathers to rest before the friends. Cast of chrome that reflected the light of the crescent moon, the objects bore three words emblazoned upon them: Samson Meteor Mic.
“These Meteors I have summoned shall form the bridge the great Hermes once traversed. Through the bridge, you shall channel the wisdom of our sacred realm, our heightened plane of being, that the aimless of your kind may find meaning once again. You shall create a podcast, a medium of inherent Snobbery, and you shall name it after me, the great General who has visited you this night. You shall channel our plane through the deconstruction of film, thus creating a language both accessible and inaccessible, through which your eternal One Listener may enter the limitless space between. Thus, you shall unfold infinite joy through the lost and ancient Art of Snobbery.”
In the wake of the mightiest of mighty coughs, the General raised his mighty arms to the sacred skies. Spinning in infinity, morphing into four-dimensional being, the General sang a baritone note that rumbled the foundation of the universe. Beams of energy and light formed, from the heavens descending to the General’s hands, through which he then endowed the friends with the ancient energy wrought. They shook in violent fits of ecstasy, hearts threatening to burst at the flood of Maximus power.
Hovering in energetic illumination before them, the General spake, “Through the intercession of the Meteor Mics, at the right hand of the General, in communion with the eternal One Listener, the world of three-dimensional mortals shall at last be redeemed. The unity established, the mission endowed, may all of us snob the whole way home.”
He closed his eyes in reverence and bliss, and the sphere of light received him once more, sealing away the threshold breached. The orb hovered calmly once again, a subtle vibration swept the land, and the great light faded into the night.
The friends sat still amidst the sounds of the crickets, feeling the cool breeze once again. They knew they’d received a vision, an ancient vision sent only to the few, to those who may bring awareness to the unfolding skies. They needed not speak, for no words may reach what heights they’d glimpsed. Rather, endowed with the General's power and joy, the two friends laughed their mighty laughs. And in their laughter, with their Meteor Mics, they pressed the red circle on the devices they carried, breathed the breath of a limitless world, and began to speak what thoughts then came.
Thus, the podcast known as General Snobbery came to be.
While the General’s visage cannot be properly depicted in any form yet discovered, the above image represents humanity’s greatest effort thus far.