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Topics - East Coast Hustle

#252
Discordian Wars

A rant in the form of fiction of events that may or may not have really happened.



Ah, fuck them, fuck them all.  They can't touch us, there's not a thing they can do.  This guy, what's his name, Firesong or something?  A nothing. A nobody, ruling an empty site.  Not a damn thing they can do against us...

Hmm?  Well well, looks like we've got a customer here.  Sit down, sit down, let me buy you a drink.  OB!  Hey, OB!  Get me another, will ya?  And one for my friend here too, OK?  Ah, its good to see a new face around here.  I tell you, sometimes, with only the regulars around here and the occasional stray Discordian coming in, it can get kind of monotonous. 

What do I do here?  Well, I suppose you could call me a...troubleshooter, a "point man" for persistent problems.  What sort of problems?  Well, you know, this and that...but, to me, its not just about dealing with the trouble and then moving on.  I like to think I am helping to provide a educational service to those our company deals with.

Ah, this is a good scotch.  We don't really have much in the way of opportunities for cutting loose and having some good old fashioned fun anymore.  Married?  Hardly.  You see, its our competition.  Back in the day, we used to keep our heads down, do the job and do it in the way we liked.  But now, now we're in the spotlight, well...it's all about public image, you see?  Our competition likes to  make big scenes now and then: they make a fuss about where we've been and who we're hanging out with.  Bastards watch our every move, too, always poking through company records.  Still, there's ways and means, what they don't know they can't blab about.

I remember...
#253
Discordian Recipes / you people make me sick
December 03, 2007, 03:28:18 PM
the level of culinary depravity and/or ineptitude on this board makes me a sad panda.

do not be surprised if at some point everyone but myself and LMNO are restricted from posting in this subforum.
#254
Literate Chaotic / I feel like an asshole...
September 11, 2007, 03:15:57 PM
for not having discovered Neil Gaiman before.

American Gods is a fucking stellar book.

ECH,
has not finished it, so no spoilers please
#255
Or Kill Me / BIP Soundcheck
May 09, 2007, 04:25:35 AM
This is ECH - I fled the country in vain
now I'm back on the same coast that gave me my name
carry the seeds of the third world deep in my brain
I've been deep undercover in America's shame
Seen scars of Monroe Doctrine and the WTO
Give rise to new marxist axis - Castro and Hugo
And how we federally subsidize Puerto Rico
Use them for testing weapons that we wouldn't test on our own
fine blond-haired, blue-eyed, white-skinned Americans
Tell them they can't vote but assure them they're "citizens"
Violently stifle dissent - Los Macheteros get militant
So then we give back Vieques to convince them they're free again
We patronize but leave the VI economically cold
While H. Stern gets fat selling fatter cats their cheap gold
Exploit loopholes to sell diamonds from Sierra Leone
This ain't America - America is not my home

We run deeper than rivers - permanent bedrock
Impart knowledge to facilitate obsolescence of cell blocks
Erode Prison-Industrial Complex
Slavery's still here - the new slaves are convicts
Oppressed minds explode like intellectual Semtex
Surprised that blowin' minds won't get you sentenced to death yet
Implanting verbal time-bombs from under your headset
Rebellion raps - it's the BIP soundcheck


This is LHX from out' the land of the snow
We call it T-Dot - outsiders call it "Toronto"
My rhymes is like icebergs - chiselled sharp from the cold
On the surface only a tenth of the content is known
I want to sink ships - but it's hard to know where to start
When language barrier nearly tore my country apart
but fuck that - We, The People all speak common language
Of how utopian dreams turn sour if left to languish
So why not drown your hopes in a bottle of wine?
Why not hit the rotgut 'til you're mercifully blind?
My scorched eyes drink in the sight of a failed nation
A puppet state made to create arctic separation
Between our patrons to the south and the Soviet Union
Tore down the old Evil Empire and built a shinier new one
A more true one to ideal omnipresence of State
Built to last - a machine that The Machine creates
I pledge something like allegiance to the forces of fate
Urge y'all to vote with a bullet in 2008
#256
Or Kill Me / out of curiosity...
March 10, 2007, 08:31:20 PM
where did the threads in Limburgatory go?

If you guys delete stuff or move it to an archive or something, that's cool, but I'd appreciate being notified of it, just so I know what the fuck is going on.
#257
Or Kill Me / Rats in the Walls
May 19, 2006, 06:11:29 PM
There are rats in the walls of the House of Eris. Some of the very people you have come to trust and/or respect, people who you have looked to for wisdom and guidance, people who you had thought were on your side in this great struggle called "life"...those people would seek to harm you, to impugn your integrity, and to belittle and insult your efforts at bettering your world.

Now, this is not one of those nebulous rants where platitudes and invectives are hurled about willy-nilly, with no target other than the big red bullseye of generalization.

No...sadly, this rant is pointed at a specific individual.

An individual who, in spite of prior treachery and backstabbing, was welcomed with open arms into whatever circles he chose to make himself a part of. An individual who would put his own self-interests and sense of elitism and entitlement ahead of the greater good of our kind (mankind).

Call me old-fashioned, but if I have something to say to someone, I say it to their face. This holds true even if what I have to say is directed at a group, and I am but one man. No backhanded sniping is needed in this group of peers. We are beset bay enemies and obstacles from all sides, at all times, and still we are forced to put up with treachery and underhandedness from one of our own?

How can we defend the walls if there are villains already hiding inside our defenses? And, more to the point, how can such a person continue to trumpet their devotion to chaos and freedom in the face of such overwhelming evidence to the contrary? the very existence of such an individual is a black stain on the bright and vibrant heart of Discordia.

how many of you are exicted about what we are trying to do? how many of you have put a great deal of time and effort into this project already? How many of you are filled with a sense of pride when you read through the pages of this forum and see what we are creating?

How many of you are willing to keep perpetuating the endless cycle of letting bad apples spoil good bunches?

This is a notice to those that would seek to tear the very walls of our house down around our ears:

it is YOU who are excommunicated. Not by OUR words or wishes, but by YOUR OWN reprehensible actions.

You are not welcome in our house any longer.

Please take your ball and go home. We don't want to play with you anymore.
#258
Or Kill Me / STOP.
April 25, 2006, 12:14:47 AM
stop equating ubiquity with success.
stop burdening us with trivial minutiae.
stop growing out instead of up.
stop eating Chilean sea bass.
stop using baby talk.
stop feeding the fire at the same time as you extinguish the light.
stop trying to save us from ourselves.
stop legislating morality.
stop neo-tribalism.
stop propping up the pyramid of privilege on the shoulders of indigence.
stop fantasizing about reality.
stop defending your illusions.
stop taking your pills.
stop being a shill.
stop running on the wheel.
stop "blinging".
stop democratizing idolatry.
stop being a patriot.
stop voting with your remote control.
stop settling.
stop suspending your disbelief.
stop buckling under the pressure to be what other people need you to be.
stop clinging to the dried-up husk of a life that you've been sold.
stop fearing re-birth.
stop playing with matches.

start playing with FIRE.
#259
Or Kill Me / Caliphate Rising?
February 24, 2006, 09:52:45 PM
Early this morning (eastern time in the USA) a new front was opened in Jihad-land. Two cars packed with explosives and driven by suicide bombers unsuccessfully attacked the Abqaiq facility in eastern Saudi Arabia in an attempt to cause a major disruption in the folw of oil to western markets. This facility processes nearly two-thirds of the kingdom's oil before it is exported. Nevermind the obvious economic implications (the price of crude jumped $2 a barrel on the NY exchange this morning following news of the attack), what I want to focus on is the short and long-term implications of the political instability this will sow in Saudi Arabia. There is a good reason that the Kingdom is one of the major exporters of fucked-up Islamic fundies. The royal family is HUGE, and effects a heavy toll on the nation's coffers. It is also very hierarchical, which leads to many resentments and petty jealousies between the older, more powerful princes and the younger, more numerous, and less-regarded princes. The younger princes, while being effectively shut out of the corridors of power, are still rich beyond belief by the standards of most of the world. Most of the average citizens (if you can call them that - there's no word for "citizen" in Arabic) are poor, politically marginalized, and forced to depend on a failing and corrput welfare state for their hand-to-mouth existence. The younger princes have realized that the discontent of the populace can be harnessed and put towards their ends by dangling the carrot of A Righteous Islamic State, and convincing the peasants that their God will see justice done on their behalf, but oh, could you just help him out a bit by blowing yourself up in such a manner as to cause disruption and embarrassment to the powers that be and their Zionist western allies?
    This has been going on for a long time without ever geting much attention from the western press. Perhaps our own powers that be don't want anyone to know what kind of allies they are making for us in the name of realeconomik. Today's attack, however, represents a sea-change in the strategy of those who decide these things in the name of Allah. Today the Opportunist-Islamists have cut to the heart of the matter and found the true achilles heel of their enemies, both at home and abroad. ANd though today's attack was unsuccessful, you can bet your bottom dollar that they will keep trying and that they WILL succeed sooner or later. If the House of Saud falls and the Islamists gain "legitimate" power in Saudi Arabia, the repercussions for oil-dependent western nations will be more dire than anything Iran or asome pack of Nigerian rebels could hope to accomplish in a hundred years of trying.
   Political junkies and war nerds, sound off. What scenarios do you envision playing out as a result of this? What happens in the USA and Europe, and what will our response be? Am I just being a DOOM-monger for thinking that we will be confronted with a Riyadh-Tehran-Islamabad axis that will almost certainly ally itself militarily and economically with a rising power in Beijing? Are we totally fucked? Or, more to the point, are we totally fucked a whole lot sooner than we thought we would be?
#260
Or Kill Me / nothing is real/everything is permitted...
February 05, 2006, 01:37:46 AM
is utter BULLSHIT.

the tendency among discordians to try to validate everyone and everything is not only incredibly annoying, but a major reason why we tend to spend all of our time talking and bitching on the intarweb and not going out into the real world and trying to improve our collective situation.

after all, if everyone's opinion is valid, and there are no wrong answers, then GWB was perfectly justified in invading Iraq, there's no need to try to implement economic reforms, gerrymandering of congressional districts and rampant abuse of campaign finance laws are nothing to worry about, you really don't NEED your civil liberties, and the exponentially-increasing income gap and resulting downward socio-economic mobility of the middle class will not cause massive upheaval and a paradigm shift in our standard of living.

oh, and your girlfriend's mustache doesn't make her any less attractive.

edit: and for anyone who wants to respond with something along the lines of "that's YOUR problem, you stupid American", please tell me what you think the standard of living in YOUR country will be like after America turns into a continent-spanning re-enactment of "Escape From New York"

ECH,
just decided that relativism is a crock of shit
#261
Literate Chaotic / Dinnertime in Little Saigon
December 24, 2005, 12:00:23 AM
It was 12 minutes past 7 when The Panda came through the front door of the Pho Bch Nga Restaurant and Karaoke Lounge.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"..."

"Sir?"

The Panda held up shaggy paw with one solitary digit extended.

"Table for one, sir?"

The Panda gave a solemn nod.

"Follow me, please."

It was 7:14 when The Panda eased his not inconsiderable bulk into a booth in the far corner of the dining area. The waitress handed him a menu.

"Would you like anything to drink, sir?"

The Panda held out two paws, one perpendicular to the other, bisecting it.

"Tea? You want some green tea?"

Again, a solemn nod.

"OK. I'll be right back with your tea."

When she came back, The Panda was pointing to various items on the menu with a chopstick.

"OK...one veggie spring rolls, one angel wings, one lemongrass chicken, one tom kha gai, and one waterfall beef?"

A nod, and a motion to the teacup.

"And more tea? OK, I'll be right back with the tea."

It was 7:23 when the spring rolls and the angel wings arrived at the table.

The Panda ate wordlessly, unaware of the stares being directed his way by diners both curious and cautious. The spring rolls were top-notch, and the tom kha gai that came shortly afterwards was very nearly heavenly.

It was 7:35 when the Entrees came to the table, along with yet more tea. The Panda inclined his head to the waitress in the very slightest gesture of appreciation. He made a rubbing motion with his thumb and foreclaw.

"You want the check?"

The Panda nodded. He was halfway through the waterfall beef when she came back with the bill. He handed over his AmEx card silently, chewing slowly, the patience of centuries contained within his jaws. She came back again just as he was digging in to the lemongrass chicken.

"Here you are, sir. Just sign right here. has everything been to your liking?"

The Panda gave a dismissive nod, as if to say that over the grand course of his lifetime he would have meals both better and worse, but that this one would suffice, thank you very much. He wrote in a generous tip for her, signed the slip, and handed it back. It was 7:57.

At precisely 8 o'clock, The Panda stopped eating. He stood up abruptly, causing his table and all of its contents to come crashing to the floor. The patrons looked around nervously as The Panda reached into the pocket of his sportcoat, then pulled something out.

He shot the waitress first. He hadn't liked the scent of her perfume one bit, and she wore FAR too much of it. He shot her just above the left breast and watched a small bloom of blood begin to ruin her white silk dress shirt. Predictably, panic ensued. In the midst of the chaos, The Panda stood silently, taking deliberate aim and shooting until the clip was empty. When he finally ran dry, he had shot and killed 5 customers, 3 employees, and a VERY expensive saltwater fish tank. He casually pocketed his gun, grabbed a mint out of the tray at the counter, and with a tip of his hat to the terrified but unharmed doorman, The Panda disappeared into the night.

It was 8:19 when Detective Cavanaugh arrived at the crime scene. None of the remaining employees spoke english, and all of hte remaining customers were completely hysterical. Cavanaugh took some notes, grabbed some chicken satay skewers off the grill, and went to clear his head and take a piss. In the bathroom, he found a young boy hiding in a stall.

"You can come out now, kid. It's all over."

"Is he gone?"

"Is WHO gone?"

"The Panda! IS HE GONE?!"

The kid was on the verge of hysteria.

"Listen, I'm a police officer. Whoever shot those people is gone, and I need you to help me find him. Did you see him?"

"yes..."

"What did he look like?"

"HE LOOKED LIKE A GIANT FUCKING PANDA, MISTER! DIDN'T I JUST SAY THAT?"

Cavanaugh's pen stopped moving.

"Did you say a giant panda?"

"yeah, a big giant panda! and he shot my mommy!!!"

"OK, kid, you just hang tight and I'll send someone in to take you home, or wherever you're going."

Cavanaugh could barely keep himself from running as he headed for the phone. He picked it up and dialed the station.

"Captain O'Mara's desk."

"IS the Captain there? This is Cavanaugh."

"Hold please."

"This is O'Mara. Cavanaugh, what do you want? I'm testing out my new putter right now. This had better be good."

"Captain, I think I have this case solved. I've got an eyewitness, and I've got motive."

"Already? how can you be sure?"

"The eyewitness said he saw the shooter clearly. Said he looked like a giant panda."

"A WHAT? Cavanaugh, if this is your idea of a joke..."

"Sir, having seen the carnage here, I can assure you that this is no joke. The details of the crime support it. It fits The Panda's MO perfectly."

"Cavanaugh, what the fuck are you talking about? Are you drinking?"

"Sir, think about it for a second. It's a giant panda."

"And?"

"What does a panda do?"

"I give up, Cavanaugh. What does a panda do?"



















"Well, sir...a panda eats, shoots, and leaves."
#262
Or Kill Me / I HAD A DREAM
November 28, 2005, 08:19:25 PM
I had a fucked-up dream. I dreamed that after all these years of thinking I was the only one who understood how thoroughly FUCKED everything is, I finally encountered people like me. people who understood. people who weren't afraid to stand up and yell to the teeming masses "Hey! this shit is FUCKED UP!" People who wouldn't be afraid to challenge the idiocy of those in charge. people who wouldn't hesitate to piss into the prevailing wind of conventional wisdom (an ill wind, to be sure) if that became necessary.

but then....then my dream turned into a nightmare.

the time came. the call went out.

NO ONE answered. Not one single person. I tried to leave, to return to my previous state of isolation, but it was impossible. I was rooted to one spot, held powerless under the weight of the collective will of my "comrades". Everyone sat there drinking and laughing as the world burned around them, and this was NOT the clean-burning fire of renewal and rebirth...no, this was the slow, choking burn of THE END. In a panic, I began screaming at my captors.

"Don't you see? If we don't DO something, everything we love will be broken forever!"

"Shh!!! Stop trying to disturb things...we'll be fine, for as long as we keep singing and laughing, nothing can harm us."

"Please! Please let me go!! I have no desire to share in your fate!"

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible. You see, if we let you go, we run the risk that you will succeed where others have failed, and that we will have to stop singing and laughing."

Hair and clothes began to smolder. embers, like butterflies from hell carried by the forewinds of the firestorm, began to touch down on the tables. sheets of music began to burn, but the players carried on, improvising their last twisted measures with lips on molten pipes and fingers flaying on red-hot strings. at a card table, four gentlemen carried on a game of cribbage as their fingers burned on the chits of fire that used to be playing cards.

I began to scream louder.

"You bastard motherfuckers! Let me GO!!!!"

"Shh...it's OK. Come, sit with us and listen to the song. You'll feel much better if you do."

The head of the lady who was addressing me suddenly burst into flames. All around me were burning skeletons, still dancing and singing and playing their songs, only now, in the funhouse mirror of the apocalypse, I could see that the singing was actually terrified shrieking and the dancing was a thousand feeble attempts to outrun the flames.

As the cacophony surrounded me and my flesh began to burn, the last thing I remember thinking was...

"...damn. I guess I really WAS the only one."

I did not wake up.
#263
Or Kill Me / PHILOSOPHICAL BREAKTHROUGH!
November 22, 2005, 11:44:28 PM
...and then, as though someone were taking a big dump on my head, it hit me.

DISCORDIANISM = EXISTENTIAL EMO-ISM

now, please to be fucking off with poorly thought-out defenses of dead irreligion.

8)
#264
Literate Chaotic / THE LITERARY EVENT OF THE CENTURY
November 05, 2005, 03:13:44 AM
the long-awaited story of my trip to the islands is almost done. The first chapter of the tale is here: http://poee.co.uk/boards/viewtopic.php?p=3440#3440

I should point out that this IS copyrighted material, and any reproduction without my permission, even if left unaltered and with full credit given, is STRICTLY prohibited.

8)
#265
Or Kill Me / what's that on my nose?
October 21, 2005, 03:41:11 PM
I wasn't going to bother with this silly contest. everyone knows what I think of the PD (and the miserably failed concept of Discordianism in general). everyone knows that when I drop a piece of writing, it's because I want to yell AT you, not WITH you. but I feel left out. Nobody is bending over backward to shove their nose so far up my ass they can see my teeth. no one wants to give my balls a tongue bath while going on and on about how cool I am and how much they LOVE my work. No fanboi love for ECH. But that's to be expected. after all, the few here who seem to actually "get it" are well aware that they don't need validation from anyone but themselves. see, you read the PD and you got the uproariously funny punchline, but you forgot that there was a joke attached to it. you spent so much time fawning over the people whose writing inspires you to think for yourself that you forgot to actually think for yourself. you forgot that the only person whose trip you can get in on is your own. No amount of approval for Roger's post-nihilism or Hugh's tequilosophy, or Horab's serious absurdism is going to confer upon you the insight and clarity of purpose (or lack thereof) that they posess. Read their words. Feel their passion. glean whatever nuggets of wisdom you can from what they have to say. Tell them when you think their work is worthy of praise, but for fuck's sake, people, no one likes a brown-noser regardless of which silly internet clique they choose to latch on to. You're not stupid and unoriginal (not most of you, anyway). The very fact that you have found this place and have chosen to stick around attests to that. Instead of spending your time (and Mgt.'s bandwidth) with endless puerile "IAWTC" posts, try dropping some of your own science on  the rest of us. The free market demands that you do so, nad since no one wants to work for free, I offer a bribe: only rants by those who aren't generally in the rant business will be considered, and the author of whichever fledgling rant I find to be the most promising (which is not necessarily the same as being the "best") will recieve an actual physical prize.

this is Friday the 21st. deadline for submissions is next friday, the 28th. late entries will be read and considered, but will be ineligible for the prize. now get off the sidelines and into the game, for the love of Sweet Baby Jeebus.

ECH,
still doesn't have a witty tagline for his rants.

8)
#266
Or Kill Me / Greetings from the 3rd world!
October 14, 2005, 11:28:23 PM
Ladies and gentlemen, i have seen the future. I have seen what Fat City will become should the powers that be ultimately get their way. i have seen what the free market holds in store for humanity. Hopefully, i will keep my head and internal organs in their respective proper places long enough to return from this adventure and tell my tale, which is, ultimately, a tale that lies waiting for all of us. If i have not posted another message by wednesday, it may be safely assumed that i have met a bad end. what was supposed to be a nicetropical vacation has turned into an orgiastic excess of violence, corruption, and intrigue...a swirling cauldron of deviance and greed which wasted no time in drawing me into its treacherous undercurrents. or perhaps i jumped in headfirst...it matters little, as the end result is the same. as soon as this message is posted, i will be on my way to deliver a little 3rd world justice to those parties who have made the terrible mistake of threatening my family and those i love. i have no way of knowing what the outcome of tonight's events will be. these may very well prove to be my last hours, although i think i'm hard enough when it counts to come through this alive, if not unscarred. if i do make it back home alive, i will have a tale to tell you the likes of which will be terrifying and sobering.

and hopefully, very entertaining.

should I not be heard from again, I want to acknowledge the valued friendships of a few of you. Cain, Roger, Bella, LMNO, Malaul, Fnordi, Donk...I value your friendships and hope that this is not the end of them. anyone who i have forgotten, forgive me...my time on the net is short, and i am under the kind of stress that makes some people turn into weeping husks of men.

good bye for now.

8)
#267
xvampirex@gmail.com says:
I have just saved a life

East Coast Hustle says:
why on earth would you do something like that? there are far too many people in the world as it is.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
Because he's a good friend of mine, satisfied?

East Coast Hustle says:
no.

East Coast Hustle says:
that's still no excuse.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
It's not an excuse, it's a reason

East Coast Hustle says:
you say to-may-to, I say to-mah-to.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
no, It's a reason.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
Would you rather kill your friend?

East Coast Hustle says:
you said that already. I think it's a bad one.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
How is that a bad one?

East Coast Hustle says:
I already explained the overpopulation problem, right? too many people = stop saving lives, for great justice.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
Too many people? No..

East Coast Hustle says:
now, are we talking you saved his life by pulling him from a burning building or pushing him out of the way of a bullet?

East Coast Hustle says:
or the wussy kind of life-saving where you talked him out of suicide or some such bullshit?

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
Uhm, magick

East Coast Hustle says:
please leave all references to non-existant forces out of it.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
The only problem, it was magick

East Coast Hustle says:
umm, dude? "magick" doesn't exist.

East Coast Hustle says:
and no amount of wanting it to exist is going to change that.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
So, you're not a discordian?

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
You're just a troll?

East Coast Hustle says:
what does discordianism have to do with "magick"? the answer is: absolutely ZERO.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
You're just a troll...

East Coast Hustle says:
I could be both, if I wanted to be.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
yup

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
this proves it

East Coast Hustle says:
dude, you don't know fuck-all about discordianism, do you? discordianism has aboslutely ZERO to do with some hippie-dippy wicca-lite bullshit "magick".

East Coast Hustle says:
you want the Wicca forums, bub.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
hmm?

East Coast Hustle says:
that's where you'll find all the other deluded idiots who think that shit like "magick" exists.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
no... chaos

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
butterfly theory

East Coast Hustle says:
chaos theory  has nopthing to do with magick either, dude.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
Yeah, the proof is out there, I saved someone's life

East Coast Hustle says:
uh huh.

East Coast Hustle says:
did you cast a madjiqual spell?

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
no

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
sigil

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
web based sigil

East Coast Hustle says:
ahh. so you drew some doodle in the dirt and that saved someone's life.

East Coast Hustle says:
I really hope you're talking about a D&D game or something and not wasting your breath trying to convince me this actually happened IRL.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
It happened

East Coast Hustle says:
says you.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
It happened

East Coast Hustle says:
please, explain to me how you drawing a doodle somewhere daved someone's life.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
butterfly effect

East Coast Hustle says:
umm, the butterfly effect, if that were actually the case, is established scientific theory, not magick.

East Coast Hustle says:
you DO understand the difference between magick and science, right?

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
Ok, so I scientifically saved someone

East Coast Hustle says:
fine. I still think you're probably full of shit, but as long as you're happy and I don't have to hear anymore bullshit about "madjique", we're all good here.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
yup

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
what bullshit?

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
You don't believe in it

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
you live a lie

East Coast Hustle says:
uh huh. you REALLY should be posting on the Obsidian Mirror forums. there are alot of people there who you'd fit in with really well. they're all into that stuff.

East Coast Hustle says:
I prefer to waste my time dealing with things that actually exist. I'm funny like that.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
What?

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
But I scientifically saved someone

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
through the Chaos Theory

East Coast Hustle says:
you already said that.

Merlin of Chaos  - http://soul.tamino.co.uk says:
^_^

East Coast Hustle says:
but you didn't REALLY save anyone at all. SOMEONE was going to die at that point in time. The universe demands victims and doesn't care where they come from. all you did was make sure it wasn't your friend who died, which in turn ensured the untimely death of someone else. congratulations, murderer.
#268
Or Kill Me / sprockets & widgets
September 20, 2005, 06:43:00 PM
can you feel it coming? do you smell a change upon the wind?

NO.

you DON'T.

you CAN'T.

you've deluded yourself with dreams of a grand re-awakening, a massive paradigm shift of the collective social conscience. You've convinced yourself that someone (maybe even you) will come along and cast down the Powers That Be(tm) that are in control of the MACHINE(tm).

You're WRONG.

there are no Powers That Be(tm). The MACHINE(tm) deposed them long ago, or perhaps they just became obsolete, victims of their own efficiency. You see, long ago the MACHINE(tm) became far too large to be overseen by a conspiracy, or even by a network of several different conspiracies. The MACHINE(tm) is no longer under the control of mankind, rather it has become an entity unto itself. A blind, uncaring juggernaut of assimilation and mediocrity. The MACHINE(tm) feeds off of the static nature of humanity. Any real agents of change are percieved as dangerous mutations, to be neutralized and disposed of as quickly as possible. Yes, that includes you. And yes, that also includes me. Why do you think I constantly exhort YOU to become an agent of change? I've got my own schemes and machinations to that end, but I want to see the manner in which the MACHINE(tm) deals with you before I finalize MY game plan. You see, to be effective as a catalyst, one has to confront the problem of scale. You CAN NOT bring the MACHINE(tm) down. You can't even slow it down. What you can do is very slowly and unobtrusively begin to rearrange the basic components. We will refer to these as "widgets" and "sprockets". If widget A and sprocket B combine to exert societal influence C on the stinking morass known collectively as "humanity", then it stands to reason that the MACHINE(tm) can be reprogrammed at a very basic level and in very small increments. You waste your time dreaming of how to effect such a change on a global, national, or regional scale (the impossibility of which, I might add, keeps you in your perpetual state of blissful apathy), dreaming of assembling a group of like-minded fellows who will march with you to the very gates of the ivory tower whereupon those who have misled and exploited you will be cast down upon the parapets.

well guess what?

YOU ARE the one who has misled and exploited you. You have overlooked the most obvious solution, the most effective solution, the only possible solution.


kill yourself, fuck the body.









Just kidding.

maybe.

but seriously, this is what I have come to believe is the true spirit of the oft-misused phrase "we must stick apart": we cannot effect a large scale change, and if we make a serious attempt we WILL be neutralized. Instead, each and every one of us should make a conscious effort to effect a small reprogramming of the MACHINE(tm) in a manner that affects us and our immediate surroundings. keep the mutation small, and give it a chance to become effectively contagious. If we all effect a change on our own paradigm (this DOES require some effort, being a bliss-ninny doesn't count), there WILL be an eventual overlap, at which point the large scale change which we have hoped to effect all along will be impossible to stop.

(insert witty closing tagline here)

8)
#269
Literate Chaotic / this will hurt your brain.
August 25, 2005, 06:59:25 PM
it's long, but it's worth it.

Johnny Dies at the End

8)
#270
Or Kill Me / ATTN: Donk
August 09, 2005, 03:24:52 PM
no matter how many of our old rants you bump, there will be no gay menage a trois with myself and Roger.

8)
#271
Or Kill Me / The Customer is Always Right: chapter 4
August 08, 2005, 10:13:18 PM
Friday afternoon, 1630 hours.

Graduation Weekend.

not even beer o'clock yet, and wait times for orders are already approaching an hour.

2 kitchen ninjas, one road warrior, and one utility man.

and me.

Apparently, today everybody wants me to lose my cool.

Enter the old man, stage left.

He walks slowly to the counter and begins studying a menu. Looks to be about 80-ish, neatly dressed and wearing a hat that appears to signify his work in a previous life as the commander of a naval vessel.

Time seems to drag out like a bad acid trip at a bingo hall. Finally, he speaks.

"I'd like a large French Dip and a small Bad Hunter pizza, please."

"Alright, will you be coming back to pick this up, or would you like us to deliver it to you?"

"well, how long will it be?"

I can just tell by the way he carries himself. Before I even open my mouth to speak, I know this is going to end badly.

"probably around 50 to 60 minutes."

"50 to 60 minutes!? That's outrageous! I'm not waiting an hour for a pizza and a sandwich!"

(be respectful, J, this is a WW2 vet you're talking to, he's earned your respect...be polite)

"well, sir, it is Friday evening on graduation weekend. we are extremely busy. We'd be happy to deliver it to you so you don't have to come back to get it."

"IT DOES NOT TAKE AN HOUR TO MAKE A PIZZA AND A SANDWICH!!"

"No, sir, it takes about ten minutes, just like most of the 6 or 7 orders in front of it in the line are going to take."

"WELL IF IT ONLY TAKES TEN MINUTES, THEN I WANT IT IN TEN MINUTES!!!"

"well, sir, all those other people who have already ordered have been quoted a time that will no longer be accurate if I put your order in front of theirs. Are you telling me that you think that all of these families' dinners should be late so you can get your food now?"

"YOU'RE A LIAR!!"

"What?!"

"IS IT TEN MINUTES OR AN HOUR?"

"neither." I think I've seen this guy in town before.  I think I know who he is.

"YOU LYING COCKSUCKER!!!!!!!"

now I know who he is. I haven't seen him since I was a little kid, and he terrified me back then. Burt McKie. Guy used to command an entire carrier battle group in the pacific theater. That's he sort of thing you have to respect in a man, no matter what he just called you. But I know how to get his goat.

"now it's an hour and a half."

"YOU SON OF A BITCH! I'LL TELL EVERYONE IN THIS TOWN TO NEVER EAT HERE AGAIN!!"

"By the way, how is Nicole doing? If you see her, tell her I said hi. Tell her to call me. She has my number."

Bingo. I have now successfully goaded an 80-something year old war hero into taking a swing at me. I twitch at him and buck my chest and shoulders forward just a c-hair.

"FUCKING COCKSUCKER!!!"

he turns and runs for the door, and by "runs" I mean "totters towards in a gait that is slow and shuffling, yet somehow strangely urgent."

"YOUR MOTHER MUST BE SORRY SHE GAVE BIRTH TO A BASTARD LIKE YOU!!"

Wrong thing to say, dude.

I walk quickly out to his car and lean in his window. As my right hand retrieves my keys and places them at the ready, I get within six inches of his face.

"I just want you to know that it's not nice to talk bad about other peoples' mothers, no matter what everyone says about yours." Total ownage.

I have left him speechless with apoplectic rage. As he stomps the gas and peels out, I lay the key along the side of his car, holding it in place as he speeds out of the parking lot. Damn, that's an ugly scratch, and he doesn't even know I gave it to him.

Ownage is now 169% complete. And there's a good chance that I'll run into the aforementioned Nicole tonight at The Reef.

Perhaps today won't be so bad after all.

#272
Or Kill Me / I AM A PATIENT BOY...
August 04, 2005, 06:52:18 PM
I WAIT, I WAIT, I WAIT, I WAIT!

8)
#273
Or Kill Me / The Customer is Always Right: chapter 3
August 03, 2005, 07:55:20 PM
Friday afternoon, 1500 hours.

Graduation Weekend.

the calm before the storm.

me behind the counter, this girl I'm hanging out with leaning over the counter showing me some impressive cleavage, telling me about the cocktail party she wants to take me to tonight.

As I watched the dark clouds race across the horizon, the hippie walked in the door.

The girl is telling me that she wants to go in the cooler with me and smoke this half a joint she's got in her purse.

"Chill for a second, baby...I gotta deal with the custies first."

hippie comes to the counter. he's got a bottle of water, 2 granola bars, and a starbucks frappucino. I start ringing up his purchase.

"that'll be $3.23. you want a little bag for that stuff?"

"no, thanks, I'm all set."

as he starts to pull out his American Express card, the gunmetal sky begins to spit hard pebbles of rain on the canvas awning that hangs over the front of the building.

it is an appropriately ominous sound.

"Oh, geez...I'm sorry, sir, but we have a five dollar minimum for credit card purchases....and we don't take American Express."

he gives me a look like no other hippie ever has.

"well FUCK you then! have fun putting this stuff back on the shelf you fucking faggot!"

THWACK!!!

the sound of a glass bottle with 12 ounces of starbucks mocha frappucino in it connecting with my skull, just above my left eye.

"holy shit! he just hit you! you just fucking HIT him, you fucking psycho! what the fuck is wrong with you?"

she's a cool girl. not afraid to jump into shit when shit needs jumping into.

I pretend to sit there stunned for a second as I reach for the billyclub under the counter. the hippie realizes the enormity of his mistake just as I begin to bring my right arm around, drawing an arc between the club and his jaw.

he's wiry. quick. he leans back and my blow goes whistling harmlessly by.

I lunge across the counter, trying to see clearly through the sticky blood that's trying to glue my left eye shut. he runs, I follow.

he's wiry.

quick.

he gets to his truck and in the cab before I can get to him, but he can't get it started and out of the parking lot before I take out every light on the rear end and smash up every body panel on the passenger side. miraculously, not a single person has witnessed any of this other than the three of us. I go back inside, blood boiling, eye throbbing, head pounding.

she cleans my face up and we have sex in the back room, then smoke a joint.

my head feels better.

for a while.

TO BE CONTINUED...
#274
Or Kill Me / ATTN: Irrelevant Hugh
August 02, 2005, 10:57:00 PM
I can post new threads just as fast as you can lock them to keep me quiet.

difference is, YOU look like a bigger liar and a bigger asshole each time you have to use your mod powers to evade an argument.

all you have to do is apologize for accusing me of hacking the board. I won't even ask you to admit your own guilt in the matter.

8)
#275
Or Kill Me / Important Legal Notice
August 02, 2005, 07:17:14 PM
as of today, 8/2/2005, all written works by me have been copyrighted. this pertains only to rants, all of which can be found in this sub-forum. None of these may be altered under any circumstances, and they may not be reprinted without express written permission of the author except under certain circumstances when the fair use act applies. If you ask me and agree to give credit where credit is due, I'll most likely say it's OK, but if you violate the copyright act (Hugh, I'm talking to you), I will take it up with the hosting company who will take action so as not to involve themselves in a nasty, costly, and unnecessary lawsuit.

thank you, and good day.

8)
#276
Or Kill Me / YOU CAN'T BE WHAT YOU WERE
July 26, 2005, 06:42:34 PM
SO YOU'D BETTER START BEING JUST WHAT YOU ARE.

8)
#277
the VELVET revolution.

#278
Bring and Brag / I keep wanting...
July 07, 2005, 03:55:49 PM
to read the name of this sub-forum as "bring a bag"

fo' yo' teef, that is.

8)
#279
Or Kill Me / State of the Revolution Address
June 12, 2005, 09:17:42 PM
Editor,Äôs note: when the author uses terms like ,Äúyou people,Äù, he is not literally referring to YOU people.

What is it with you people? Are you just semi-illiterate, or have you made this a conscious decision? Why have you confused being sentient with being sedentary? So you evolved to the point where your brain was so complex it could envision a way to transmit sounds and images to a box in everyone,Äôs living room,Ķand thus the enormous complexity of our collective intellect was used to destroy itself. Just because you CAN sit on your fat ass all day and watch CSI:Miami doesn,Äôt mean you SHOULD. You as a people are being slowly crushed under the weight of the authoritarian thumb that is pressing down on the carotid artery of your freedom, and you won,Äôt even do anything about it. Why? Because you,Äôre also being crushed under the weight of your 3 Double QPC with cheese-a-day habit. The weight of your unshakeable loyalty to Desperate Housewives. YOU should be the desperate housewives, and I,Äôm not talking about being desperate for a piece of ass from the poolboy. Where is your pride? Where is your fire? Is there anything left behind your eyes, or has it all been concentrated at the tip of your index finger for better, more efficient remote-control operation? Look at what you,Äôve lost. You,Äôve long since been incapable of finding and killing your own food, making your own warm clothes, building your own shelter, defending yourself from physical attack, or using your feet to get you where you,Äôre going. Now you,Äôre going to give up the ability to think for yourselves? Are you mad? No. You,Äôre not. And THAT,ÄôS the problem. You got mad when you thought the voting on American Idol was rigged, but the voting in Florida? In Ohio? Pah! That sort of thing hardly affects YOUR life! You are shackled with the chains of slavery, and they enter your house in a 6-foot length of coaxial cable. In a cell phone signal. In a high-speed internet connection. Why should you go outside? You,Äôve got your own little world right here at your fingertips, and there,Äôs no reason to let reality intrude. You just can,Äôt wait until they finally develop teleportation technology. No, not so you can go anywhere you want effortlessly, but so you can have an endless stream of fried chicken and ice cream beamed right to your kitchen. Hell, you won,Äôt even have to get up to go to work now that somebody in Bangalore is doing your job for you. Now you,Äôll have even MORE time to catch up on your favorite shows! I hear they,Äôre showing reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond on Channel 5 on Thursday mornings AND Monday afternoons.

   Meanwhile, back at the ranch, someone somewhere is standing up. Someone is turning off all the devices they can,Äôt live without. Someone is trying to reacquaint themselves with freedom. And someone is having a tough time of it. There,Äôs no one to rally to the cause, no one to take up arms against the oppressors, no one to keep the flickering flame of hope alive against the oppressive un-being that consumes everyone. And besides, who wants to put it all on the line like that for a bunch of fat, greasy, cathode-ray receptors? What is there to be gained? The free are hopelessly outnumbered, and the consumers/consumed will just perceive any sort of paradigm shift as a changing of the channel.

   You see, we were right all along. The revolution will not be televised.

   It already HAS been.

8)
#280
Or Kill Me / nit-picking
May 22, 2005, 02:57:08 PM
OK...when you write a rant, try writing it in MS Word first, then c+p it...that way, you can use the goddamned spellcheck function. When I read a rant in which every 6th word is misspelled, I pretty much stop paying attention and assume that the writer either is an idiot, or doesn't care enough about what they wrote for me to bother caring about it.

8)
#281
Literate Chaotic / Rock Star
May 19, 2005, 10:46:50 PM
Unluck

Aurora Rigor Mortis

Message in a Bottle

Dumb-esticated

Green Eggs 'n' Ham

keep in mind these are shitty recordings. I'd love to hear feedback about the songs, but don't bother telling me I need to adjust my levels or clean up the ambient hiss. I already know that.

8)
#282
Literate Chaotic / Reduce/Re-use/Recycle
May 18, 2005, 10:13:47 PM
is the name of this song:

About two years ago I had a dream
I know that it was real - I saw it end like this
Just goes to show I can,Äôt have what I can,Äôt steal
I gave up centuries for you ,Äì seems a waste now

And now everybody
Says that time is money
I just scream for nothing
I am both types of poor

About a year ago I woke up cold
I know that it was real ,Äì I saw the frosted glass
Just proves the point that I,Äôm cold on the inside
I gave up my fire for you ,Äì It meant something then

And now everybody
Says that nothing,Äôs sacred
I just scream from hatred
Until I hit the floor


About a week ago I threw the towel in
I know that it was real ,Äì I couldn,Äôt take it back
Just gives me one more thorn to drive into my brow
I didn,Äôt give up anything for you ,Äì I just gave you up

And now everybody
Says that nothing,Äôs sacred
I just scream from hatred
Until I hit the floor
And now everybody
Says that time is money
I just scream for nothing
I am both types of poor


8)
#283
Literate Chaotic / Chinaski
May 17, 2005, 02:37:00 PM
OK, so I haven't written any songs that are worth a shit since I moved to Maine 2 and a half years ago, until last night. so I figured since I make fun of everyone else's attempts at lyric/poetry/etc, it's only fair to give you something to make fun of me about. it's called "Chinaski"

I wanna be like Henry Chinaski
I wanna be drunk every waking moment
I wanna lose all my money on the horses
I wanna get sick when I see your face

I,Äôm in debt to you! (the fuel for my fire is hate)
I,Äôm in debt to you! (the fuel for my fire is hate)
I,Äôm in debt to you! (the fuel for my fire is hate)
Hate!


I wanna be like Charles Bukowski
I wanna write about all the things that drive me
To love, to drink, to rape, to put you in your place
To learn to keep all the poison inside me

I,Äôm in debt to you! (the fuel for my fire is hate)
I,Äôm in debt to you! (the fuel for my fire is hate)
I,Äôm in debt to you! (the fuel for my fire is hate)
Hate!


Six years gone without a trace!
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!!
Now I,Äôm left with something bitter!
Hate you, hate you, hate you, hate you!!
A sickness becomes commonplace!
Ignored, ignored, ignored, ignorant!!
See through you to what you fiend for!
Twisting, twisting, twisting, twisted!!!


I,Äôm in debt to you! (the fuel for my fire is hate)
I,Äôm in debt to you! (the fuel for my fire is hate)
I,Äôm in debt to you! (the fuel for my fire is hate)
Hate!



Now I,Äôm trashed but you,Äôre just trash!!!
Now I'm trashed but you're just trash!!!
Now I,Äôm trashed but you,Äôre just trash!!!
Now I'm trashed but you're just trash!!!

8)
#284
Or Kill Me / New Spike Lee Movie!!
April 30, 2005, 10:38:13 PM


8)
#285
Or Kill Me / Who are you?
April 26, 2005, 08:58:21 PM
editors note: I didn't write this, and I don't know who did. I found it in one of the booths at my store and decided it needed to be shared with the world. although it probably could have been edited for clarity, I have left it untouched.

Comparisons. holding one object, idea, or action against another to discern differences and similarities. Hatred, fascism, self-criticism, jealousy, and arrogance are rooted in comparisons. One will compare oneself to another to ascertain whether the subject is advatageous over the comparing self. People who percieve others as stronger, smarter, or superior will often have a stron emotional response to that situation. They may become hateful, angry, or jealous. they may resent those whom they have deemed "better" because it makes them more aware of their own flaws. As a result of the previously stated response, one may becomre driven by the need to supercede those who they had made the comparison to. granted, the second half of this course of action may seem to be the more constructive and positive in it's methodology; it is still a misguided way of self-improvement. Self-improvement is something that must be accomplished through the individual's own volition, not fueled by a feeling of inferiority. To do so out of a feeling of inferiority is an attempt to exert power over another individual. Self-improvement should be done for one reason: to improve one's own state of being. Why do human beings insist on making themselves superior to their peers? Why must we compete? Everyone wants to fit into this cookie-cutter definition of the ideal person, and yet no one does. We just end up obscuring who we are to facilitate our efforts to fit the mold closer than the next person. This is what we call self-improvement. The definition has changed. No longer is it a positive effort to better one's state of being; it is the destruction of one's true self. How are we improving ourselves by struggling ot reach something that we will never even come close to in our lifetimes? Why not just accept who you are? Why not realize your strengths and flaws? If you want to improve yourself, do it for yourself. gaining knowledge and forming your own perceptions because you want to be more aware of your world is a far nobler pursuit than trying to look like a supermodel. Idealizing what Calvin Klein, Fred Durst, and the Gap present to you as perfection is a flaw in and of itself. The simple reality is: you are not what you own, you are not what you wear, you are not your car, and you are not your money. You are your choices and your words. There are two paths before you. Break the mold and be yourself, or fit the corporate ideals and be a product.

It's your decision.

8)
#286
Literate Chaotic / one line poem.
April 22, 2005, 09:22:31 PM
Registered Users: mian tiao noodle, StDoodle


8)
#287
sometimes, I hate being able to say "I told you so".

I'm too sick to write my own rant, so here's the link.

I'm confident that most of you will be able to see the real significance of this regardless of all the smiles and handshakes being shown in the media articles.

8)
#288
Or Kill Me / just FYI:
April 02, 2005, 09:37:06 PM
Tom DeLay, the same Tom DeLay who fought so hard to keep Terri Schiavo from being "murdered", the same Tom DeLay who got up on his soapbox and preached his pro-life values to America (never mind his support for the Iraq war), that same Tom DeLay had his own father taken off of life support years ago after his father suffered a critical injury that would have meant him being in a persistent vegetative state for the rest of his life.

hmm...
#289
Or Kill Me / Welcome to the post-American century
March 30, 2005, 04:02:36 PM
At this point, we can assume that the decline of American geopolitical influence is inevitable, and that in a few short years we will be briefly on an equal footing with the Chinese as they pass us for ascendancy to Global Superpower status. The only possible counterbalance we have, both in a military sense and an economic sense, is India. The prudent American statesman would do everything within reason to keep India happy with us and exploit their natural anti-sino tendencies in an attempt to keep China in check. Which is why it should come as no surprise to anyone that our administration has recently pissed India off to no end by authorizing the sale of F-16s to Pakistan, India's mortal enemy. Yeah, we'll sell 'em to India too, but they don't care about that. They had air supremacy when neither country had F-16s, so it's a loss of strategic advantage for them, as well as a perceived loss of face.

Way to perpetuate the self-ownage, Bushites.

8)
#290
Or Kill Me / ATTN: Americans under the age of 27
March 29, 2005, 12:25:14 AM
you NEED to read these.

http://thomas.loc.gov/cgi-bin/query/z?c108:H.R.163:

http://thomas.loc.gov/cgi-bin/query/z?c108:S.89:

neither bill has passed through both the House and the Senate yet, but that may have more to do with timing and semantics than any real opposition to the idea. And neither has been killed off when there have been opportunities to do so.

8)
#291
Or Kill Me / Eulogy for the Living: a rant
March 26, 2005, 10:26:06 PM
Now look what you,Äôve done. Are you happy now? Do the cookies taste good? Will those same crumbs that nourish your body so delightfully also provide the spiritual and intellectual nourishment that you are so devoid of? One day there may come a point when your cookies and pie no longer provide solace. One day THEY may come and take your cookies and pie AWAY FROM YOU. And what will you do then? Will you lash out? Will you organize and fight back? Of course not. ,ÄúDiscordians stick apart,Äù, you say. ,ÄúWe have to enlighten them with laughter and poetry,Äù, you say. And eventually, when you run out of happy shiny cop-outs and are forced to confront the ugly realities of the post-american century, you won,Äôt have any idea what to do about any of it. ,ÄúOK,Äù, you say, ,Äúwhat do YOU think we should do about it?,Äù Well, I,Äôll tell you.


No, I won,Äôt. Seems I misheard you. What you actually said was ,ÄúWhy can,Äôt that guy just shut up and let us enjoy our cookies and pie? Why,Äôs he always gotta bring us down?,Äù You know why? Because you,Äôre smarter than most. More imaginative than most. More articulate, more charismatic, maybe even better looking. And you KNOW that something is horribly wrong. You haven,Äôt been blinded by the new shiny cars and the reality TV shows and MTV Cribs and the Atkins diet. And for you, with the skills and talents that you possess, to know something is wrong and REFUSE to do anything about it is FUCKED UP. And guess what? NO ONE IS BEING ENLIGTHENED WITH COOKIES AND PIE. Buck up. Step to the plate. Seize your destiny and strike a blow to the MACHINE ,Ñ¢, for the sake of your poor fellow cabbages who aren,Äôt capable of taking that step yet. THAT is how we help the rest of the unwashed masses to see behind the smoke and mirrors.

,ÄúYeah, yeah, yeah,Äù, you say, ,Äúyou always say shit like this but you never say what in specific we should do to this MACHINE ,Ñ¢ that you speak of.,Äù And you,Äôre right. I don,Äôt really know what we should do. But I know that we should do SOMETHING, and I,Äôm willing to take that step. If I take that step by myself, or with one or two other like-minded people, the best thing that can happen is that no one will notice. More likely, we,Äôll be detained/deported/shot/whatever and our entire non-movement will be irreparably damaged by the all-knowing COURT OF PUBLIC OPINION ,Ñ¢. We need to act in concert. We need to drop the ,ÄúDiscordians stick apart,Äù cop-out. If you cling to that attitude out of apathy, then you should probably just stop reading now and go back to playing EverQuest in your parents,Äô basement, but if you cling to it out of fear then you are doing yourself a grave disservice, because you DO have it within yourself to not be such a pussy. Or maybe you don,Äôt. That,Äôs for you to decide, not me. But I,Äôm done being complacent about your complacency. I,Äôm done trying to just get along. ,Äúyeah, right,Äù, you say, ,Äúwhen were you trying to get along?,Äù But I did try. For a week or so, even. And it made me sick. So you can expect me to be strident, be in your face, be a PAIN IN THE ASS. Or maybe not. Again, that,Äôs for you to decide. Maybe you think I,Äôm not totally full of shit. Maybe you think I,Äôm totally full of shit but I might still have a point. Maybe you,Äôve got that same itch between your shoulderblades that seems to get worse every time you open a newspaper or turn on your TV ,Ñ¢ or listen to your ugly neighbor or your cubicle-mate spout off some uninformed retread conservatard bullshit. Maybe. But probably not. You probably just think I should shut up and go away. Or that I should get with the PROGRAM and start squealing and mewling over imaginary cookies and pies.  But if you think I,Äôm being harsh, if you think I,Äôm being UNREASONABLE and ruining ALLYOUR FUN, then I have some valuable advice for you. I advise you to go study. Read the works of the great scholars. Find the writings of our most hallowed scribes and take their wisdom to heart. Particularly the prime teaching of the Mad Monk known as Horab the Brown, who said in his infinite wisdom:






STFU, n00bz!

8)

We now return you to your regularly scheduled reprogramming.
#292
from the mouth of one of our country's elected "leaders":

Quote from: Tom DeLay

   And so it,Äôs bigger than any one of us, and we have to do everything that is in our power to save Terri Schiavo and anybody else that may be in this kind of position.

   And let me just finish with this: This is exactly the issue that,Äôs going on in America. That attacks against the conservative movement, against me, and against many others. The point is, it,Äôs, the other side has figured out how to win and defeat the conservative movement. And that is to go after people, personally charge them with frivolous charges, and link that up with all these do-gooder organizations funded by George Soros, and then, and then get the national media on their side. That whole syndicate that they have going on right now is for one purpose and one purpose only and that,Äôs to destroy the conservative movement. It,Äôs to destroy conservative leaders and it,Äôs, uh, not just in elected office but leading. I mean Ed Feulner, today at the Heritage Foundation, was under attack in the National Journal. I mean they, they, this is a huge nationwide concerted effort to destroy everything we believe in, and, and you need to look at this and what,Äôs going on and participate in fighting back.

   Don,Äôt, you know, the one way they stopped churches from getting into politics was Lyndon Johnson, who passed a law that said you couldn,Äôt get in politics or you,Äôre going to lose your tax exempt status because they were all opposed to him when he was running for president. That law we,Äôre trying to repeal; it,Äôs very difficult to do that. But the point is, is when they can knock out a leader then no other leader will step forward for awhile because they don,Äôt want to go through the same thing. When, if they go after and get a pastor then other pastors shrink from what they should be doing. It forces Christians back into the church and that,Äôs what,Äôs going on in America: ,ÄúThe world is too bad. I,Äôm going to go get inside this building and I,Äôm not going to play in the world.,Äù Uh, that,Äôs not what Christ asked us to do. And, and so this, they understand that it is a political maneuver, and, and they are, uh, going to try to destroy the conservative movement and we have to fight back.

   So, please, this afternoon, each and every one of you, if you know a senator give him a call. Tell him, they,Äôll say, ,ÄúOur bill can pass in the House.,Äù Tell him, ,ÄúThat,Äôs fine. Your bill,Äôs okay but the House bill is better and, uh, I want the House bill.,Äù Particularly if you know Democrats, uh, don,Äôt let them get off the hook, um, by hiding behind one House and the other is adjourned. We can do anything we need to do to pass any bill that we need to pass. So I appreciate what you,Äôre doing. God bless you and thank you for the Family Research Council.

just thought the more politically inclined among you might find this interesting.

8)
#293
Or Kill Me / WHY IS THIS THREAD LOCKED?
March 23, 2005, 11:01:07 PM
Unlock this thread at once!

http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=4487&start=30

I demand great justice!

:evil:
#294
Belltown Psalm

It's hard to quantify - a vague appeal
A cold comfort wrapped in glass and steel
I know I'm not the one
I know all the damage has been done
I drink to the City and her streets
A cool pillow that she offers me for sleep
I know it's not the way
I know I'm a different man today

Take me home
Let me go
And lay my face up to the rain
My song, my familiar refrain...

It's hard to know what fascinates me more
The steady drum or the pounding on my floor
I know I'm not the one
I know all the damage has been done
It's been weeks and weak is how I feel
And so hungry when there's nothing left to steal
I know it's not the way
I know I'm a different man today

Take me home
Let me go
And lay my face up to the rain
My song, my familiar refrain...

I'm inspired
I'm on fire....

8)
#295
Or Kill Me / PD.com: real discordians need not apply
February 25, 2005, 03:33:03 PM
Yeah, you...you, over there in the corner writing poetry that no one else cares about...you over there talking about how your weird hair or freaky clothes are inspiring discord by making people treat you as a social pariah...you, baking the cookies and pie...what are you doing? I mean, what are you actually DOING? you profess to adhere to some noble idea of being the monkeywrench in the MACHINE, and yet, you stand idly by and occasionally grease the gears yourself, oblivious to the fact that you're just as much one of THEM as THEY are...you may frown on the idea of "serious discordians", but do we not, upon taking on the mantle of Erisianism, also take upon ourselves some (ir)responsibility to effect the dynamic which we profess to give our allegiance to? Do we not sully the (not so)good name of our brothers and sisters in discord when we do nothing to bring the discord into not only our lives, but the lives of others? Are we not, in fact, worse than those we call Greyface? For Greyface is just a cog in the MACHINE, he knows not that he is part of a greater evil, he just goes to work, goes to the bar, goes home to his nagging wife and screamy kids, and gets up the next day to do it again, oblivious all the while to the random wonder that he is surrounded by...but YOU (and I include myself in this accusation too, for I am no better than my peers) should know better...you are KNOWINGLY perpetuating the imbalance between hodge and podge...you are INTENTIONALLY depriving the world of SLACK..."So what?" you say..."who are you to tell me what to do?" you say...to which I can only invoke rule number one (KYFMS) and try to assure you that I AM trying...and  that for you not to do the same is not only irresponsible and dangerous, but just downright LAME. Go call yourself wahtever you want, but do not come to me calling yourself a Discordian, for you are not worthy of the name...get off your ass...go outside...look around you at the world that you inhabit...do you not see the grid? the pattern? the plotted points on the graph that dictate the movement and actions of everything around you? of course you do...you wouldn't have gotten this far if you didn't...but now it's time ot take the next step...the REAL step...the only step that truly MATTERS...it's time for you to start living up to your own self-professed ideals...go now! go slash a tire on a delivery truck while it's parked on a major city street...go jam epoxy resin into the coin slots of all the parking meters...go write not one letter to your congressman, but 1000 letters, all signed by different people, all crying out for the repeal of laws prohibiting voluntary autoerotic cannibalism...go open the valves on a tank of NO2 in the lobby of a major investment firm...go rotate all the streetsigns in your neighborhood 90 degrees to the left...GO DO SOMETHING...now, before you wake up one day, go to your crappy job, go to the bar, come home to your nagging wife and screaming kids, and get up the next day to do it all over again....

8)
#296
copylefted from the Moscow-based expat publication "The Exile"

I don't know why I need to inflict this on you all, but I do. sorry.

Israeli-Palestinian Conflict Lacks Humor

The recent escalation of violence in the West Bank and Gaza Strip, in which Israeli soldiers are alleged to have killed hundreds of Palestinians in response to successive suicide bombings, has left the Bush Administration with no option but to vigorously engage the warring parties and try to bring about peace.

The reason is simple. The Israeli-Palestinian war is not funny. In fact, it's not funny at all.

When a suicide bomber straps TNT to his chest, walks into a crowded bus, and sets his charge off, peeling the roof off of a bus "like a tin can" and sending body parts "flying 250 yards away," leaving a "scene of indescribable horror," this is not funny. What would be funny would be if the disgruntled Palestinian terrorist were to board a bus in Haifa brandishing a giant bottle of seltzer water, indiscriminately spraying Jews in the face. He could walk down the aisle, spraying a hard stream of seltzer water into the faces of innocent women and children while yelling "Allah Akhbar!" Passengers would scream, believing at first that the seltzer water was a deadly chemical compound, and this would increase the comic effect to crescendo - particularly when, for the climax of his joke, he would open his jacket, revealing several large red tubes tied around his waist, and, upon pressing a red button, the tube tops would pop open...and out would spring several green snake puppets.

At this moment, the joke would be clear to everyone. The Palestinian terrorist would drop his actor's rage, burst out laughing in such a manner that his body would go limp as he'd lean forward in a crouched position, holding one hand to his stomach because it would hurt. At this point his laugh would be a high-pitched laugh (you know how sometimes men laugh in a high-pitched tone when they really find something funny), shake his head, wiping his eyes from laughter. He could, if he's laughing too hard, hold his hand out and rotate it left-to-right as if to say "Stop! Stop everything! I can't keep this joke going any longer!", then finally he'd sit down and explain to the terrified passengers that all along, he was only spraying them with seltzer water.

When the police arrive to storm the bus, the Palestinian could grab a hostage, hold her in front of him, aim the seltzer bottle out of a bus window, and spray the Israeli policemen.

Within minutes, the police would lob a stun grenade into the bus, storm it, pull the Palestinian out, smash his seltzer water bottle over his head, and beat him mercilessly while applying electric shock to his testicles. They would drag him, bleeding, around a corner, beat him more, then shoot him several times in the face and chest at close range and crush his skull and jaw in with the butts of their guns. They would continue to beat and abuse his body long after he is dead; beneath and around the body a pool of viscous blood would form. Chunks of brain matter, skull and tissue that had been shot or beaten off of his corpse would form small islands in the blood. His body would be dragged to a mass grave, stripped, dumped, and burned with gasoline, while extremist Jewish settlers in the distance would scream "Death To Arabs!"

This would not be funny.

The Israeli police must not beat a Palestinian terrorist to death if he attacks a crowded bus with a bottle of seltzer water. What they must do is pull him off the bus, point a gun at his face, cock and pull the trigger... out of which would pop a large flag with the word "Bang!" emblazoned it. Or maybe it should be a water pistol. Yeah, a water pistol. So water would come out. No wait, that's too much like the Palestinian's seltzer joke. You can't really have two similar jokes like that next to each other. That wouldn't be as funny. Probably the "Bang!" flag would be funnier. What do you think?

Did you ever see the movie Caddyshack? That was a pretty funny movie. Do you remember that scene when the guy threw the Baby Ruth candy bar into the swimming pool, and everyone thought it was a piece of poo, so they all screamed and jumped out of the pool, and then later they had the groundskeeper Bill Murray clean the pool and then he finds the Baby Ruth bar and eats it, but that snotty old lady who sees him eating the candy bar thinks it's a piece of poo so she faints? Remember that? It was pretty funny. You had to have seen it, but seriously, it was funny. If you see it, let us know what you thought of that scene.

Once, there was this guy we knew, Bob... Bob something-or-other. When we were in high school, Bob spent a week recording all the farts he made at home. Then he brought a boom box to school, stood in the hall over by the language lab, and played the tape so that everyone could hear him fart. There would be a high-pitched squeaky fart, followed by the sound of the recording button clicking, then background noise and a different fart, this one louder and more trumpet-like. That was pretty funny. Bob was voted "Funniest Guy" in his class in his senior year.

Today, Bob works as a manager at Circuit City in the Home Theater System department. He makes $52,000 a year, but this is not enough for him to afford a house in Hayward. He rents a one-bedroom condominium, where he lives alone. His wife and daughter left him six years ago because he drinks too much and he doesn't have a lot of ambition. He watches a lot of TV - he got a 15% discount on his home theater system - and eats takeout Chinese food from Lee's at the Westgate Mall just down the street. The chicken comes with steamed white rice, a fortune cookie and a white plastic fork, and it costs $5.95. Sometimes the chicken makes him fart. It's not funny when Bob farts alone, at age 38, in his white-walled condominium, with the air-conditioner on, eating takeout Kung Pao Chicken and watching A&E's "U-Boats: Terror on Our Shores". It's not funny at all. It's not even possible for Bob to be funny anymore. If Bob had any sense left, he'd switch off the TV, unbutton his Dockers and his white short-sleeved dress shirt, strap several sticks of dynamite around his tire-like waist, button his clothes back up, march into his Circuit City during the weekend Spring Sale, scream, "Uh-oh, I think I'm gonna fart!" with a big smile on his face... light a match next to his ass, and blow the whole fucking place up with everyone inside, tearing the roof off like a tin fucking can. That would be the greatest fart of Bob's life. The fart we'd all remember him by.
#297
Or Kill Me / Bored-dumb
January 25, 2005, 10:11:29 PM
I'm bored.

no, not the fleeting transience of boredom that comes with being part of the instant gratification generation...not the "there's nothing good on TV and it's crappy outside" kind of bored...this goes much deeper...I'm bored with the way things are...not at this precise moment, not today, not this week...the way things are...the state in which they exist and the routines and processes by which they are carried out...the subconscious algorithms which lend nuance and meaning to our interactions and weight to the development of our interpersonal relationships have devoloved into meaningless bits of biochemical code with no more gravity or urgency than an infomercial...I don't care, because I find myself incapable of the act of caring...I need a jolt...a radical change...something to snap me out of this emotional lethargy...I find myself trying to artificially manufacture situations that will fit the bill, but it's like trying to tap yourself on the shoulder, and then spinning around and trying to pretend you don't know who just tapped you on the shoulder...doubtless, someone will try to feed me some stale, regurgitated, seattle-centric bullshit about just needing to move out of the sticks and back "home", but it's a farce...a lie I've tried to feed myself in order to give myself false hope of a tangible, immediate solution...it wouldn't be a change...it would be a cop-out, if anything...a cowardly retreat to the sociological and cultural womb which originally shat forth my fully-formed and battle-ready Id to unleash it's predations on the world...I need to see new skies...I need to find threats that spur me into action and rewards that make the action worthwhile...I need to get on it...I need to go...to paraphrase one of my alltime favorite bands, I don't have anything to lose because I don't have anything...anything I want, anyway...don't take this the wrong way...this is not a cry for help or a plea for advice...it is not an elaborate request for a hug and a smile...it's a signal...a message...a warning shot across the bow...I have found the ultimate target for my ideology of radical deconstructionism, and the target is me...I don't mean something silly like suicide, I mean the utter dissolution of the rigid and unyielding walls and filters that I have constructed around my perceptions...this is not an ending, it is a beginning...it is the beginning...and it very likely means that some of you will never see or hear of me again, through no fault of your own...those of you who have my love know who you are, and as for the one of you who I will always invite with me on whatever adventure I choose to go on, well, I'll be in touch...and if I may be so bold as to turn the tables in our lawyer-client relationship, I would strongly advise you to have your passport in order...I make no promises and give no thought to timing...I may hang around long enough for you all to forget I ever said any of this, or I may leave tomorrow, but either way it will be a swift and sudden severing of all the ties that bind me, so I choose to make my goodbyes now, at the moment of decision when my words still carry an echo of sincerity...

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood
And I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference...



8)
#298
Literate Chaotic / When did this turn into...
December 16, 2004, 07:39:26 PM
Crappy Poetry Corner?

just wondering...

8)
#299
Or Kill Me / Like a Ton of Bricks
December 10, 2004, 11:33:01 PM
so I was doing a little light reading this morning...you know, just catching up on world events...one story in particular has caught my attention the last couple of days...it gave me an unlikely glimmer of hope the other day when a bunch of National Guard reservists (attending what was supposed to be a "pep rally", more or less) began directing some pretty pointed questions at Donald Rumsfeld, mostly concerning the lack of armor for troops and vehicles on the ground in Iraq. Of course, the spin machines on both sides of the same coin were immediately revved into high gear...the administration's response was that they were spending a ton of money on improving the situation already and they wer edoing all they could, they just couldn't get the contractors to deliver what they needed fast enough. Now it comes out this morning that the contractors in question have the material and production capability to produce a shitload more than they have been, it seems the Defense Department just never bothered to put in any orders for more armor. Now, I wasn't born yesterday...I've known since I was a little kid that the people who comprise the higher levels of the federal government are there to look out for their best interests, not mine or yours. However, I've always been more of the opinion that, good or bad, what we had going was still a whole lot better than anything any other country was doing...even a bad American President was still a positive example to the rest of the world...maybe a little nepotism, influence peddling, financial hoo-hah, all the perks and bennies that are part of the package, but nothing really intentionally inhuman or immoral. And then came the current administration. I sensed a different kind of malfeasance from them. I knew that in addition to the usual petty thievery, they were trying to implement an expansive re-engineering project on the american (and indeed, the world's) political landscape. And for the first time, it seriously occurs to me: we are NOT the good guys. And THEN it hits me like a ton of bricks...we never WERE the good guys. NEVER. Why did the original founders of the colonies come here from Britain? They came to avoid religious persecution. Why was their religion so heavily persecuted? BECAUSE THEY WERE INSUFFERABLE ASSHOLES. The people who founded the colonies that later became this country were assholes. Eventually, there were so many assholes that more land was needed, so, in a display of assholishness still unmatched to this day, our forefathers modernized the art of genocide. Soon, people in other countries learned of our land of opportunity. And all those that were too lazy, shiftless, or criminally-minded to have carved out a decent existence in their country of origin (read: assholes) came to America to try their hand at our brand of assholism. So there you have it. Our country...our entire way of life was founded by ASSHOLES. I guess the only real surprise is that anyone is surprised at what's going on now. Oh...excuse me, please, I have to answer the doorbell...

"Hello?"

"Homeland Security! Open the door!"

...hmm, well, looks like that's all the time we have for today, and remember, when you reach the inevitable conclusion that WE'RE THE ASSHOLES, do the smart thing and keep it to yourself.

8)
#300
Or Kill Me / The Good Rev. Must Die!
November 03, 2004, 07:03:11 PM
Does anyone think, for one minute, that Rog's plan didn't work? Cuz I don't...I think his plan worked perfectly....

:x