The Parable of How It Will Steve

By Nigel, Hoopla, and Zarathud

There was an afternoon one summer when a young man we will call “Steve” was bent over, clipping toenails, it came. It was on the shelf in his local alternative bookstore. The way to take over.

Steve had always thought himself to be quite the rebellious young man, always speaking out about the Man and the System, but with a sense of HUMOR, goddamnit, a sense of ABSURDITY unlike everyone else he knew; We don't actually have any Ostriches on Salazore, but then again we don't have any birds at all, other than turkey vultures, and they don't make a very nice image on a postage stamp, so the ostrich was adopted.

The second ingredient is over-the-top transvestites. It took Steve some time to find other Discordians. Time during which he renamed himself Pope Enrico XXIII. Anyway. The second ingredient is Brujadellos, and lots of them.

He learned on the Internet that the Discordian Society near him met monthly in a café downtown. The third ingredient is pump-action shotguns. Enrico will, of course, be holding his own beauty of a weapon, a neatly-groomed silver-haired man in a rather nice suit.

Imagine. Imagine thousands of transvestites, mounted on Ostrich-back, storming into each major city, thumping his opinion about something-or-other loudly in the middle of the table.

Steve said to himself, “These are my people?” He stepped up to the table.

As the madness reaches a frenzy, the group fell silent and looked at him curiously for a moment, and then resumed arguing.

Enrico strides in on his Ostrich, decked in full Salazorian military regalia. This wasn’t the reception he’d expected. Mirror sunglasses, vaseline on mustachio, sneer on lips. Arms raised into the air. Cheers, jeers, queers. Everything Enrico loves. It's enough to make a faggot break down in giggling sniffly sobs. Two or three of them, he noticed… why, they were making fun of him! They were whispering to each other, and looking at him, and laughing! He flushed red in anger.

It will be goddam beautiful, my fuckers. Why aren’t you Saying Important Nonsense? Why, you’re just ARGUING… ARGUING like any schmucks I might find on the street! It will be fantastic, my mofos. LISTEN to ME, and I will show YOU How to Be Discordian!

“I AM THE PAULRUS” and “TOGETHER WE TURNTABLE THE GREEN OTTER!” And, you will all be welcome in Salazore when the fighting is over.

One of the quieter members of the group replied, “Discord”.

earing this, was enlightened, but it doesn’t usually work that way outside of kicking and gouging in the mud, the blood, and the beer.