MERRCERRR

Well, honestly the first thing I thought about Henry mercer was - why the hell does he give so much of a crap? I mean. . . well you know, to each his own, but  - bunches and bunches of objects. It does not seem too great.

Also, it seems like he has a very large void in his soul and he's trying to fill it up with shit. Some have food, some have porn, well - mercer has artifacts. And he seems really manic about it. How can one man go around the world millions and millions of times, grasping all this weird stuff, collecting and collecting and collecting and never stopping! Why all the enthusiasm? I can picture him riding around on his horse valiently, with a sword, and his 1800's patented mustache, screaming at the top of his lungs "TO THE ARTIFACTS! MUSH!" Because we MUST HELP OUT THE FUTURE BEINGS!! We primitive creatures have an obligation to the superior beings that will inhabit our future earth, an obligation to get pounds of little trinkets and crap and pile it up just for them! So they can INVESTIGATE and EXPIDIATE, with curious expiditions, just like I once did mah boi, down in the swamps of india and the high mountains of the pyraneese - gathering all I could! Oh - HISTORY!! 

Yes, it seems like he gets off from history. Like literally cums from it. Because he wants to be a part of it by saving shit for the future aliens, and also because he obviously likes artifacts. He seems like he'd go on safari's in africa, for like 16 years, and then randomly reappear in britain to tell everyone of his fantastical tales - "My boys, I have seen 23479 different kinds of Rattler Knickers, of all different shapes and sizes!" And he'd smell of must and exotic tobacco, and the thng is -- HE NEVER SLEEPS.

Yes. It seems like he never sleeps. It just seems like he goes on manic escapades where he gets really really hype on Meth, and then goes on drunken meth romps like one would do in vegas for a weekend  - except Mercer goes around the world, having sex with random collectors and putting random objects in his pouch and collecting , collecting, collecting!! And then on monday he wakes up in a pile of his own feces and other guy's semen, amongst a pile of metal bowls and spoons.

BUT HE'S NOT DONE~!! No - because remember, he never sleeps. So right after that, he jollily goes to the local pub and tells all of his tales. And everyone's like, "why is this guy always in here talking about dumb objects?"

But yes. His need to control the past so much, and his extreme fear of loss (based on the eccentric means he went to to preserve all his crap) shows that he must have lost something long ago, like  -- Like a sled named rosebud. But he forgot what it was, because it's all suppressed, so now the poor guy roams the earth wandering and wandering looking for something that he can't remember, trying to find his 'rosebud' in brass bells and owl-shaped watches. But no, that sled's GONE, man, GONE!!! 

I suppose he fears change, and also his own death - he's trying to preserve his beingness in the form of a concrete castle and all his shit, like hitler wanted to do with his hitler amusement park memorial crap. But poor man, it is inevitable - and yet he is running from it. But you can't escape this one, my friend, no matter how many zebra-printed coffee pots you have piled up. (Proof: He is dead.)

I suppose when he was close to death, he crawled out of the hospital into his castle, curled up in a ball and shakingly tried to grasp all of his things that he could, rocking back and forth and saying over and over again in epic denial, 'i'll never loose you, my prettie's, never. we'll be together forever . forever and ever and ever and forever, and i'll never loose you, never forever forever" and then he'll try and ingest some of them, you know because it's like sort of symbolic of merging with his stuff and keeping it with him forever.

But then he well just died.

LULZ!!