Mump Goes to War

In which His Hisness presents with numbness

“Amalgaman”, generated by Canva AI to prompt “billionaire king”

The Greatest Man in History rolls, hup! and over. His formidable frame, beaded over with cold sweat, pitches and lists, a bag of bone, organs, nervous pits and man tits.

“Hrmh,” Mump grunts, separating one benumbed arse cheek from another with all four fingers, just walking it in, and lets off a snapping fart. Such satisfactions, one regrets, can no longer be taken for granted or at face value at 51.

After a restless night waking up — let’s see — five times, he scowls anew at how long it has taken for his greatestness to be recognised, truly recognised. Not just by the usual plebs on social, but frankly all the rest of the grey generic human soup roiling beneath the gilded lid of the super rich.

A man could feel personally attacked.

Maybe, Mump thinks, just spitballing here, but just maybe, the ambition, the very idea of being the greatest anything is what’s wanting here. Perhaps GOATness isn’t viewed with quite the right amount of deference anymore…

No, you don’t need MADMEN on the payroll to see the problem is one of conceptualisation. ‘Greatestness’ will have to be a word.

Ah, ‘greatestness’. How thou rockest and rollest off the tongue!

He makes a mental note to have the wickedly melodious term trend by weekend and attain wordhood the following week.

‘Wordhood’, too, will need to be worded.

Likewise, ‘worded ’.

But not the new crop of bad words, such as the ones suggested by confirmed Mump haters as more apt descriptors for His Hisness — ‘megaloman’, ‘MAGAloman’, ‘megaloma’ or ‘amalgaman’. He makes a mental note not to have that happen.

People need more words, good ones, and Mump has some of the best words. (Mental note: get all of the best ones, etc.) He always rather thought ‘apt’ looked better written as ‘apped’. He will sanction these concepts by decree and, bypassing the algorithm, trend-whip them into public acceptance with one of his customary one-and-done platformwide hexts on Hex Social.

Then again, would it not be a million times more humiliating and fun to donate an obscene amount of money to Oxford University Press (OUP) in exchange for a scholarly article that, seminally and for the record, contained ‘greatestness’? He can see the entry now:

Greatestness (n.) – awesomestness, bestness, most beautifulestness — most commonly used in reference to His Highness, Ur-President of the He-nited States, Dolary Mump— Oxford English Dictionary (OED)**

Thus, he begins this most excellently chaotic offensive by falsely claiming sponsorship of the OED on Hex.

Begun. And. Done. Send.

Met with a wave of indignation and ridicule, he switches direction, launching a hostile takeover bid of the OUP with a single hext @ The Post. For the next hour, he changes his Hex owner account to @ChiefDickShinner and begins whipping up sentiment against the OED’s “colonial excesses”. Then he lobbies for inclusion of the phrase in the OED’s next edition.

Too easy.

When a spontaneous grassroots petition promoting this campaign collects 12 million signatures by noon, the OUP’s hand is forced and it makes an announcement that ‘greatestness’ would not just make it into the next edition of the OED, but has enjoyed the “quickest public acceptance of any word in history, a mere 14 hours from first recorded use.

Happy death day, English language. You poncy cunts.

Now, what else could be standing in the way of his ascension to the pantheon of the gods, muthafukaz? On what basis could anyone seriously dispute his greatestness?

Wretchy Rich

He is the richest man in the world, of course. That still has to mean something. Just not in all history. That honour had fallen cheaply to Empress Wu Zetian of China, who in her day (Tang Dynasty, 624-705 AD) had controlled 23% of the (laughably prototypical) global economy.

Even so he makes a mental note to be richer. Beginning life as a thought, the note is duly auto-digitised and stored on a wetware-embedded ©Brainware chip (some rights reserved) augmenting his cognitive function, and cloned to the cloud.

Since, however, the cloud is basically just other people’s computers, he makes a mental note to own earth’s computers. Also (amend note) the air’s. Also (amend amended note), orbiting and outer space’s. Send.

A little inconveniently, this will require building out new compute capacity, buying up existing same, denigrating same aforesaid, destroying and outlawing it...

Is nothing just — easy?

Perhaps if he were a country… All ownership would devolve to him. (Also life and death, as ruler of fate, eater of worlds…)

He retrieves and re-amends his last mental note. It ripples ripply and bigly across his ©Brainware goody.

Smarty Ponce

He’s the smartest man in the world too, of course. Maybe smarts still means something. As a 12-year-old child, he’d written a computer game (fuck, his inner monologue was stuck on Walken), only to be told by the buyer (friend of Dad’s) that “I’m liking what I’m seeing, but it isn’t exactly brain surgery”.

Remembering, he smiles the smile of the empty-eyed hurt and makes a mental note. It read, “oh yes, I am (a brain surgeon) all right”. The note is stored, digitised, sent, replicated to His cloud.

“Oh that’s good,” he thinks and fired up the Hex app, which he’d changed from a place where you could witter illiterately about all kinds of shit into a literal public shitter wall.

He changes his account handle, types some doubtful shit about the hive mind, and smiles.

It quickly turns itself upside down, that incurious smile; a used-to-be-jolly jowly frown.

Why even use a phone? He only had to think it. He makes a mental note to integrate the chipco and the shitter wallco.

And buy Apple.

Fucking fuck-themselves-in-the face distractions. Fucking trillion dollar fly-by-night la-hoo-sa-hers.

Chill, dude

He picks a fight with Chile. Chile wins, a mistake.

What can he buy and mothball to cause a cancerous economic fatality at the heart of that shithole cesspit feedbag of a country?

At 51 his brain function dipped suddenly six years before, leaving him with 145% of the neuro-norm. An also-mistake. Had he not successfully deployed a pretty difficult gaming hack as the world’s most gnarly mature Space Invaders arcade gamer? Some punk kid had said it was “not exactly even rocket science”, which it literally was.

Fucking kid. You’re done, bitch.

Having started BrainHeX and CosmoHeX, he’d literally cornered both professions commonly conflated with braininess — rocket science and brain surgery.

He’s sent rockets, and built them too. Ones that don’t look like knobs. And crashed and caught and dropped more of them than he can remember. And guess what? They leave shit in the atmosphere, or space or whatever, probably, and nobody cares. Not a him or a here or now problem. And now there’s surveillance where there wasn’t even airwaves before, right? Well, call it connectedness of all humankind and openness and transparency and kumbaya, my lord. Who doesn’t like a good disneyfication of the facts?

What else?

Richest. Smartest. What else is there? Nothing, is what. Fuck-nothing, which is even nothinger than fuck-all.

He’s not funny or interesting. A big fucking mistake of God-Ordered under-endowment. He decides to be, by Wednesday.

An agent of chaos. He becomes. Ketaminus minimis.

That others might effectively know of his greatestness.

/that others/

The Greatest Man in History (all rights reserved)

/runtime error/

The end

The greatest man in the history of the world, including the tense present — and with any luck, if we destroy space-time, the future — signs out of GMT -6 through 10 and into UTC +6.30 through 9:00.

The revolution will resume programming in 3 hours.

Muthafukaz

.

Outtakes:

, spread out diagonally across his bed, fore and below-bridge in his yacht in the middle of a man-made lake. The body of water groaned in its titanium casing, taking up half of the penthouse atop his family compound built on Native American burial land dug up and deposited across 500 hectares at an undisclosed underground location below the Rocky Mountains dividing these here He-nited States, which was currently on lien to the Trusk family trust, newly created under the new administration by family merger

Credits

[Bonus]