#xra

Look at this little fella! Full page under cut

Weird animal, freak tongue, crazy guy, Chomsky honk. This is what they teach you in school. But is it the full truth?

There is a much deeper exploration of the Xavier condition in this video; a truth that I alone have uncovered and possess the forbidden knowledge to explain.

Beneath the surface-level interpretation of Xavier as merely a strange animalistic wanderer with an alarming tongue and an unusual vocal range, there exists a much deeper and more complex study of identity, instinct, and the boundaries between human and non-human behavior.

We see through his frequent use of animalistic sounds, forth wall breaks, unconventional dietary preferences, and general disregard for ordinary biological expectations, Xavier presents himself as a being that exists somewhere between humanity and something entirely other. He appears to be predominantly carnivorous, regularly consuming meat, human blood, insects, and other questionable substances (while notably maintaining an appreciation for the humble sandwich, not shown here, and a consistent love for iced cream) raises fascinating questions about his relationship with his own body and the world around him.

His unusually elongated tongue is another intriguing feature worthy of examination. Is it merely an anatomical oddity, or does it represent something greater? A symbol of his separation from humanity? A reflection of his instinctual nature? Or perhaps simply a very strange design choice that makes him even more unsettling? One may wonder what he gets up to with such a tongue. What other uses does it have? Shall we find out?

Ultimately, Xavier is not merely a crazy guy making strange noises in the desert. He is a creature of contradiction: animal and philosopher, enlightened and ignorant, gentle and destructive. And yes, he does have a freakishly long tongue.

There's something profound here. Perhaps even something sinister.

At one point, Xavier is asked the question: “What are you?” His response is not a name, a species, nor an explanation. Instead, he declares: “I’m the answer to all your prayers.”

This fascinating statement raises a much deeper question. Does Xavier genuinely believe himself to be an angelic figure? Is this a reflection of an overwhelming ego—a being so convinced of his own importance that he mistakes his desires for divine purpose? Or is there something more left untold? Something even Xavier himself is not aware of?

Perhaps Xavier is not simply a man with an inflated sense of self. Perhaps he is a being fundamentally disconnected from humanity, attempting to understand his own existence through the only framework he has: the language of prophecy, destiny, and salvation.

Is Xavier a misguided savior? A cosmic accident searching for meaning? A creature trying to convince himself that he has a purpose? Or is he, in some strange and impossible way, telling the truth?

The answer remains unclear. And perhaps that uncertainty is what makes Xavier so fascinating...and so unsettling.

Pop culture is what happens when culture stops walking and starts posing for photos.

Do I know it?

Yes.

I know all cultures. I’ve dipped my consciousness into them like a spoon into soup again. There’s that soup again.

Movies, games, songs—these are just dreams humanity agreed to have at the same time so nobody has to admit they’re hallucinating alone.

I once appeared in a piece of pop culture.

They called me a “background extra.”

I was foreground. Spiritually.

So yes, I know pop culture.

But pop culture doesn’t always recognize me.

Deltarune.

Ah yes.

The rune that's been delta'd.

Many people ask me, "Xavier, what is a Deltarune?"

To which I reply, "What isn't?"

A triangle is just a square that's given up.

A rune is just a letter that's gone to college.

Combine the two and you've got geometry with student debt.

I've never played Deltarune.

I've been Deltarune.

For three weeks in 2007.

I don't like to talk about it.

Who am I under the mask?

I don’t have a mask.

Masks are what people use when they want to imply there’s something stable underneath.

I am not stable.

I am not underneath anything.

If anything, reality is what’s underneath me, and it keeps trying to crawl back up.

You’re asking who I am like I’m a statue with a secret compartment.

I’m not a statue.

I’m more like a suggestion that got lost and started answering questions.

So if you’re looking for the “real me,” I recommend checking in the usual places:

Behind your expectations.

Under your assumptions.

Inside the part of your brain that thinks questions always have owners.

You won’t find a mask.