against purpose

Purpose
is a false god. Too many lives
punctured and immolated upon that altar, too many
acts, uselessly dedicated
to that. That
incontrovertibly empty,
and therefore ineluctably corrupt,

religion.
The worship of purpose,
founded on the dogma that things
should be done for a reason.

Well.

Ladies,
and gentlemen.
I don't need to tell you
where I stand on that. I don't
stand on that.

I stand as far away from
that as possible. But at need,
under attack
from it,
I give you

my vow now:

I shall not shirk to stand against it.

Come, shelter in
behind me.

I have a very odd
combination ready, to befuddle the beast's defense, then
we trip it, shoot past,
break North,
crack a forty and laugh.

Purpose is useless to us.

Purpose is useless, to us. Whose purpose?
If it wasn't ours? A thing should be done
for no reason, or not at all

I trust. Let us stand together, for
nothing. No reason at all. For ourselves,

we shall be invincible.

Why not? If we're not
doing anything else
at the moment,

me might just as well
be just who we are,
doing things with just cause,

just 'cause we can.

There's nothing so just
or responsible. Let's choose
noble means, and defy

to the end.