Mabeland is a reactive dreamscape, and an embodiment of life estranged from being. Bill is a dastardly guy; he knows mans' true desire is to be mayor of his own paradise. If you have seen Gravity Falls, you may think it'd be easy to discern what a 'Mabel Utopia,' would look like. If I were Bill, I think I would instinctually populate Mabeland with piglets, sweets, and Mabel's crushes Xyler and Craz, but that would be incorrect. What Mable truly desires, is the authority to litigate all propositions, or rather, the power to decide how things behave, and why. Sounds tedious, right? If I was asked what my utopia would look like, it would be one without rules, and I would secondly ask that I have no responsibilities. Yet, I can't help but think that after a few weeks of passively exhausting my fantasies— playing video games till my eyes bleed, and fucking all the guys I've ever wanted to fuck, I would ultimately become bored of it all. It's funny then, to think that in me or Mabel's picturing of a Utopia we both would desire the job, the responsibility to litigate all that "is."

The real tragedy of life is that it is senseless. Mabel and Dipper, and my prolonged teen angst hate people who are certain. We do not like the status quo. Dipper and Mabel have no time for people who deny the strange things that often happen in Gravity Falls. We can't just calm down and live like Mabel's pig, because we think too much. Our world is constructed by logical propositions, some seem so simple and inarguable, like gravity— but the sad part is that even such simplicities are mere probabilistic conditions. In this case, it is the senselessness of logic and rules that constitute chaos, chaos that feeds Bill. It should then make sense that Bill would create a world for Mabel that allows her to be a litigator of fact instead of a naive proposer. In Mabeland, physics reactively adheres to Mabel's constitution of how objects should behave upon collision. The roof of any house can be bouncy, and chocolate can be fluid, that is, until bitten at which point it would behave like a typical chocolate bar (crunchy and delicious). This reactive adherence is litigation. Mabel also litigates how people behave, another senseless entertainment-turned-academic aspect of human behavior usually left up to quack psychoanalysts. In normal life, I sometimes like to analyze the behavior of my friends, and causally explain why they act the way they do. I am almost always wrong. Why do I continue to do it then? It is in my nature I guess, it is part of my senseless need to exposit contingency. Once again, senselessness is the denominator of our livelihoods.

Bill has attempted to remove that denominator in his creation of Mabeland. He wants Mabel to feel free, and like she truly can create her own utopian dream, and that all of her propositions are mid-court 3-point swishes. You can't just give someone their utopia, you have to make them feel like they created it for themselves. This is why in Mabel's utopia, she has to be the mayor even though by all normal standards that is a shitty, non-utopian, bureaucratic job. In Mabeland, everything is math in that it is completely factual, and inarguable… it is senseless, chaotic, and weird.

The good news is that Mabel was able to wield her authority as mayor to destroy Mabeland. She made a proposition, that she could pick up and wield a gigantic sewing needle five times her size so as to pop a figurative bubble (a bubble that had a steel lock around it(?)). I knew I had returned to reality because Xyler and Craz had survived, they are a token of Earth's senselessness and contingency, especially in Bill Cypher's weirdmageddon. They sit on a bench only to betray their own caricature by quoting John Paul Sartre. Things are born without reason, survive out of weakness, and die by chance. Metal.

Lastly, now that I have schooled everyone, and have shown rules are chaos, don't take that as me saying words are meaningless, and any argument is ultimately superfluous and ineffectual. I understand the temptation to drift into sophistry, since an admission that everything is senseless could be taken to mean discourse is a tool to assert your own will, for power and notoriety. I think I couldn't live like that, because I have a soul(?) and because I'd get super bored. If you scale up/down the probable impact of sophistry you will realize it is all the same. This is the superfluous nature of logic, people try to one up themselves with discourse, and analysis; they sometimes may receive push-back when they take it a step too far… but the pot of water is getting hotter nonetheless. Anarchy befalls the same boring-utopia syndrome that made me realize heaven sounds lame as fuck. If I were a frog being incrementally boiled, I'd be more worrisome of water reaching the temperature that allows for peak comfort, because being under the delusion that you are in a spa when in reality you are being boiled alive is more embarrassing than just straight up being thrown into fatally hot water. Happy weirdmageddon.