Like goatse for your brain!

[Eater of Clowns]

Here's some content, possibly for 23ae?  Tell me what you think.

We've all seen goatse.  It's a damn classic.  I don't know where it comes from but like anything there were all these rumors around it when people were talking about it.  One tale, the one that I believe, is that a weightlifter was pushing beyond their limitations, every muscle in their body so tense, especially in the lower body, that the weakest one just let go.  That happened to be the sphincter, so we get that fleshy pink monstrosity staring at us, literally an exploded brown eye, when we're first unfortunate enough to have clicked that link.

That kind of thing happens more than just physically.  We see it emotionally all the time, the I-can't-take-any-more-of-this-shit-and-if-one-more-horrible-thing-happens-I'm-going-to-explode.  Little chemicals are fucking up your insides, they're all out of whack and you'd do god damn anything to right it all.  Then the explosion is with violence or sobbing, sometimes both, it's ugly and it feels so fulfilling at the time and afterwards you're ashamed.

Then sometimes it's a mental thing.  Anger, confusion, shame, sadness, joy, none of them mean anything when that one happens.  One day you're perfectly calm and staring at a pen wondering what the hell it's for, you're relearning the use of hands that you must be borrowing from someone else, like a lobster, and walking around on a floor that you're positive can't actually be there and for fuck's sake it might not be.  You know nothing, all the categorized thoughts and compartmentalized knowledge that you've spent years putting just where they are as if they were some prized collection scatter about your head.  You've got to learn to find them and leave them as they are, follow one to the next because getting them all back together again is another lifetime.

When you learn to see the world again after that last one, that's when you're on top of that shit.  Those other two kinds of explosions keep happening but they never touch the mental one.  All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put hodgy podgy back together again.

You've suffered a violent relaxation of the mind, and you're a discordian.

[fomenter]

goatse is an anal stretching pic,
 the one you mention (the weight lifter) is a prolapsed sphincter, i may be wrong but i have not heard of the prolapse pic being referred to as goatse...

[Eater of Clowns]

goatse is an anal stretching pic,
 the one you mention (the weight lifter) is a prolapsed sphincter, i may be wrong but i have not heard of the prolapse pic being referred to as goatse...

Maybe I should avoid it altogether.

[fomenter]

 check with an expert first (LMNO is the local resident expert in such things) and if i happen to be right re name (rewrite) the piece as "anal prolapse of the brain"...

[The Johnny]

When you learn to see the world again after that last one, that's when you're on top of that shit.  Those other two kinds of explosions keep happening but they never touch the mental one.  All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put hodgy podgy back together again.

You've suffered a violent relaxation of the mind, and you're a discordian.

So wait, you sayin discordians are supposed to be stoic?

[Eater of Clowns]

When you learn to see the world again after that last one, that's when you're on top of that shit.  Those other two kinds of explosions keep happening but they never touch the mental one.  All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put hodgy podgy back together again.

You've suffered a violent relaxation of the mind, and you're a discordian.

So wait, you sayin discordians are supposed to be stoic?

No, I'm saying once you have that experience there's no going back.

[M. Nigel Salt]

Not bad. Maybe refine it a little, but I like the premise.

[Triple Zero]

Fomenter's right. At least, I know goatse is anal stretching, you can find an interview with the guy somewhere, it's pretty interesting, he says his sphincter only looks like that after he has been playing with it for some time, but when he's not putting stuff in it it reverts to reasonably normal proportions within a few hours. So he doesn't have problems keeping his poop in.

Pictures of anal prolapse I usually click away really fast, make me real sick (no goatse doesn't, anymore).

Anyway, I also think "anal prolapse of the brain" is a pretty damn good title, so use it.

[LMNO, PhD (life continues)]

Yup. Weightlifer prolapse =/= goatse.


And, purely for Triple Zero's benefit, you should all know that there is now a niche porn genre featuring women who prolapse after (or during) anal sex.


Use Google to find the "Oops, My Ass Fell Out!" series for more information.

[Eater of Clowns]

Now that NaNoWriMo is over I rewrote the piece.  Here's draft two:

Certain decisions in life need be made before acting upon them is an absolute requirement.  Have you ever thought about getting one of those awful diseases that causes you to puke and shit at the same time?  I haven't had one, but I know that if I ever face the decision, the split second I save in thinking it over will put my ass on that toilet seat and I'll vomit on whatever gets in my way.  It's simple, to me, I'd rather clean up the contents of my stomach than the contents of my intestines.  But we've all had those moments, the wretched ones where you can feel something brewing and you honestly don't know if you're going to make it.  Maybe you didn't even expect it, without warning a violent relaxation of the bowels brews.  Maybe you're experiencing a rare but serious side effect that you heard about on the commercial which also told you to talk to your doctor to find out if it was right for you.  That fear is crippling.  Fear of ruining your clothes, of making a putrid mess, of embarassing yourself in public.

Your brain gets that way sometimes, without warning and without provocation.  Maybe it was that same commercial, trying to wrap your head around the quick information tossed into the end or wondering if your doctor even knows you well enough to risk that you might get one of those fucked up side effects.  For a moment, nothing makes sense.  Not just the sensory assault on the screen but even little things cease to have meaning.  You're holding a pen and you have no idea what it's for, it is some object foreign to your touch and it belongs just then as rightfully in your mouth or in the eyes of your enemy as it does in your hands to copy the name of that great sounding pill.  A scrap of paper is in front of you with nothing written on it and you mash the pen into the white sheet leaving deeply imprinted scrawlings that form nothing coherent.  But it passes, it's just this brief sensation of an absolutely unknown world.

It isn't serious.  Worse things occur.  The Internet is a scary place, you may know, and there are all kinds of things about that you never need to see.  But you can't goddamn help yourself.  Someone linked you this picture once with an explanation claiming it was this weightlifter, this juggernaut of a human being all jacked up with muscles straining and veins pulsing in their necks but you can't see that part of it.  All you can see is what happened when the weakest muscle in that powerful body gave out under just a little too much stress.  That muscle is the weightlifter's sphincter.  The thing couldn't take the strain like the rest of his body and it just, his asshole just came asunder.  It happens on occassion with anal sex as well.

This one.  When this one happens to your brain it's not a passing confusion or trifling trick like deja vu.  It's permanent.  All the little tricks you've pulled together to associate what you know with the reality you see fall apart, the contents of your head spilling messily onto every surface like a sprinkler system.  You worry that other people are going to look at you funny because what you read last week is now dripping down the sides of your co-worker's monitor.  You try sponging it back up and putting it on ice so they can fix you right back up but there isn't a trace of the thing that used to be there in the soggy pile you've assembled.  And maybe just then you're that rare weightlifter who just had too much stuff stacked up and some part of you had to give.  Or maybe you got mindfucked, maybe once really intensely or just a bunch of little ones and that particular muscle of yours wasn't up to shape so it gave out.

Then there's getting past the initial panic.  In every emergency there's a time where it no longer makes sense to focus on what's happening and it becomes time to focus on how to respond to what's happening.  The people who think that over quickly are said to have clear heads.  After your brain prolapses you'll stop staring at its former contents drenching the surfaces around you and you'll lift your head to the world around you to see it anew.  There is no reassembling of the little ties that held a fragile reality together, no tedious exhaustive process of categorizing all the things you once knew back where you remember them.  Because what you see then is unlike anything else.

[Richter]

Well done / re - done.  Def. post it!

When you learn to see the world again after that last one, that's when you're on top of that shit.  Those other two kinds of explosions keep happening but they never touch the mental one.  All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put hodgy podgy back together again.

You've suffered a violent relaxation of the mind, and you're a discordian.

So wait, you sayin discordians are supposed to be stoic?

No, I'm saying once you have that experience there's no going back.

Expanding the metahpor, our weightlifter can be likened to the usual greyface folks.  They strain, flex and grunt, but when things really coem to shove, what they least expect is exactly what fails on them.  The result is a horrible, shameful mess.  Crippling and abhorrent to everyone around them.

The discordian, by contrast, is like Goatsee.  "HEY GUYS, WATCH THIS!"