On April 1st, the oldest person in the world died. Misao Okawa of Osaka, Japan. Age 117.
Getrude Weaver of Arkansas become the world’s oldest person but held the crown for only six short days before dying yesterday at age 116.
Jeralean Talley of Michigan is now the world’s oldest person, but I fear she will not be for long, because this pattern of death is clearly no accident. It’s a dangerous job being the oldest person in the world. Sure, Jeanne Calment held the throne for nine years back in the nineties, but most measure their reign in days, not years. Being the oldest person in the world, statistically speaking, is deadlier than crab fishing while nude and on fire. (Attempts to acquire empirical evidence are still awaiting approval by the human subjects review board).
If there were any other tiny group of individuals — and there are only 52 people in the world verified to be 110 years or older — such a string of deaths in so short a period of time would be immediately investigated. But no, since they’re very old, then the fascism of youth just figures that old people naturally drop dead all the time. This injustice shall not stand. Not even with a walker with tennis balls on the feet. No sir.
You see, there are only three people left in the world born in the 19th century, down from five a mere week ago. Someone is slaughtering their way through the world’s oldest people. And whoever he or she is, will not stop until their goals are met. Until the terrible first hand testimony of 1903 preschools is silenced forever.
The perpetrator? In the words of the great Sherlock Holmes, “ISN’T IT FUCKING OBVIOUS?”
The gig is up Sakari Momoi, or should I call you by your royal title, “World’s Oldest Man”?
A bastion of misandry, the ranks of the eldest human beings are filled exclusively by women. The top 34 oldest people in the world are all women. And in the last sixty years, of the 114 different holders of the title of “world’s oldest living person,” only six have been men. For shame. FOR SHAME.
It’s easy to see then Momoi’s point of view. He’s lived so long, losing so many generations of children and grandchildren, that he has grown quite mad, convinced that he is an immortal timetraveller who has in fact become his own great great grand poppet. And so he lurks in the shadows, striking down this cabal of privileged women who have clearly used witchcraft of some kind to outlive every contemporary, feasting on the blood of supercentenarian men in dark and perverse ceremonies that prolong their unnatural existence.
He is a killer, yes, but can we really say he wasn’t driven to it?