Our attempts to produce works of substance frequently turn into some kind of ball stomping/screeching match/pit of dispair.
Is that hilarious? No. Stupid? Naw. Infuriating? Sometimes. Horrormirthy? Yeah, for me anyway. It used to entertain me, then it was like some kind of incendiary, then it made me sad. And those are all stupid-but-necassary reactions. In the end, it will always be there in the end, the fighting.
When the last two Discordians stand back to back, out of ammo, hacking down zombie hoards with machetes until the strength runs out of their arms, will they fall to their knees and wait for inevitable? No. They will fight on, they will fight each other if there's no one else. They will argue about who forgot the damned ammo until they're heads are ripped from their bodies. And that's GREAT! I love that. Is it productive, probably not. But you know who was productive? NAZI's, that's who.*
Seriously though, there's a lack of leadership in Discordia. And I like it. I do more in my life because of Eris's Horrible, Horrible Light precisely because no one tells me to. I write things that I could never have done without the living peedee. I THINK in ways I could not have otherwise. What is it NOT to be a Discordian? It is to never, ever question what you and others think about everything. It is to avoid anything like conflict because you are so desperately afraid of change. It is to constantly engage in conflict so you don't have to think about anything else. If the side-effects of thinking for yourself all the time are so unpleasant that you can't deal there are plenty of other religions out there that would love to talk to you.
Oh yeah, Walls.
Sometimes the walls we put up are our own, sometimes they're put up by somebody else. Either way, they keep us from interacting with one another. That's what they're supposed to do. If we get lucky enough to see people on the other side, talk with them somehow, we can work toward taking at least some of these things down. And sometimes you're beating on opposite ends of a wall, trying to break it down, until you're beating each others fists because that wall is still there, all the time.
And HATS! Jesus Craptastic Christ do people hold onto those hats like they were made out of candy-flavored crack. They can look awfully stupid, or suave, or they just get in the way. When you're sitting alone by yourself long enough, all the figures you arrange around yourself seem to do no good. So, you've got to do something with yourself, something that feels good, makes you feel solid, something outside yourself, above yourself. I don't mind people wearing any kind of hat they like, so long as they realize they still have a meat-filled skull underneath. Sadly, it's just those kind of standards that make people mad.
BARK BARK BARK.
*FUCK YOU GODWIN I DO WHAT I WANT.