The rounded man, as his name suggests, is round. He lived in a basement, where he tried to solve problems of logistics. But problems he could not straighten, for he was rounded. So he took off his head instead and rolled it on the floor, and played the song "Where is my mind". 

He was a lonesome guy, so he made the basement a dwelling for sounds. In words they spoke, in words did he feel safe and sound; in words was he numb, in words was he drowned. His body deteriorated, until a snake came forth, and thus said: " A holy truth I have bear too long, now let me let it onto you: All the wisest words sayings are self-contradictory. So weave thy self-contradictory sayings, and thus will thou rule." Before he could say a word, the snake leaped into the air and went down his throat, and whispered onto him, "Now art thou whole, and shall thou start weaving thy giant web." 

A silent drowsiness crept onto him, and thus he was kept in deep slumber for seven days. In the night, upon his waking, he walked into the forest, climbed onto the tree, and delivered to the animals:

You great animals, you own my greatest admiration. You speak of no truth, but only of hunger and blood. Truths do humans like to flaunt, but no other lie is greater. Let it be known that there is no truth, but only will. Now, there are people in the town who call themselves cynics. What do they say? Life is a lie, society a lie; friendship and civilization a lie. But they do not know the depth of their own lies! For their will is hatred, and self-entitlement: you unworthy people, keep on rolling in your lies. Now they work to tear down our clothes. But new clothes will they wear, new lies will they weave.

Now let it be known that as long as there is only will, there is nothing called a lie. But objective they claim to be. What business have you great animals in being objective? For objectivity is detachment, and thinking also detachment. And they think about detachment, as if that could solve the problem! Let me shed light on their dark secret: worshippers of death they are, and pain they are in love with. 

Let this be known, that you are but interesting toys of the divinity. And when someone speaks to you about God, flee instantly. For it is always their god they are talking about, not the God. And your god, he is already with you, only you never named him.

But also note that all things a contradiction, thus your god is also your devil. Note how the light never sees the shadows it casts. So your love is your hatred, your killing salvation. So let your greatest hatred be your greatest love, your unrepentant killings salvation. And when you raise your mighty sword, you do not know whether you are pointing it to yourself. 

When the rounded man finished his delivery, the sun shined on the land, and corpses were piled up all over the place. And the rounded man impregnated his snake. Thus was how the rounded man ruled in no-man's land.