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[And it does so with unprecedented help from the CIA in a partnership that has blurred the bright line between foreign and domestic spying.]

NEW YORK (AP) — In New Brunswick, N.J., a building superintendent opened the door to apartment No. 1076 one balmy Tuesday and discovered an alarming scene: terrorist literature strewn about the table and computer and surveillance equipment set up in the next room.

The panicked superintendent dialed 911, sending police and the FBI rushing to the building near Rutgers University on the afternoon of June 2, 2009. What they found in that first-floor apartment, however, was not a terrorist hideout but a command center set up by a secret team of New York Police Department intelligence officers.

From that apartment, about an hour outside the department's jurisdiction, the NYPD had been staging undercover operations and conducting surveillance throughout New Jersey. Neither the FBI nor the local police had any idea.

Since the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, the NYPD has become one of the country's most aggressive domestic intelligence agencies. A months-long investigation by The Associated Press has revealed that the NYPD operates far outside its borders and targets ethnic communities in ways that would run afoul of civil liberties rules if practiced by the federal government. And it does so with unprecedented help from the CIA in a partnership that has blurred the bright line between foreign and domestic spying.

http://news.yahoo.com/cia-help-nypd-mov ... 19915.html

ASK ME ANYTHING.

AND I WILL SHIT ON YOU.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2029173/Jacob-Michael-dies-pepper-sprayed-arrested-ELEVEN-officers.html

Normally, I wouldn't trust the Daily Mail to report the lottery, but I'll get to that in a minute.

'As far as I know he didn't have a job but lived with his parents and was just a really popular guy who knew a lot of people.'

The mother-of-three claimed: 'What the police did was outrageous. He was handcuffed, on the floor with his legs restrained and they didn't even have the decency to pull up his pants.

'They seemed to be kneeing him in the back of the head. I counted 11 cops. They were all sat on him, giving him a kicking and giving him side digs. There was one woman officer, the rest were men, and she was getting her kicks in as well.

'They were chasing him in the street. I saw it because they chased him in front of my house.

'His mum told me Jake was the one who rang the police himself, saying that someone was threatening him with a gun.

'They started chasing him and hitting him in the back of the legs with batons. They said, "Why don't you stand up and give yourself some dignity," to him. But he couldn't even stand up after they'd hit him with the batons.

'It was so upsetting to see. I couldn't believe the police could do that. It was like something you see on those TV cop shows.

'I went to speak to his mum. She didn't know what happened. She was mortified when they knocked on her door those hours later and told her, "Your son's died".

'They had banged his head on the floor and they were giving him punches. He was already handcuffed and he was restrained when I saw him. I don't know what happened in the house, I just saw when they were on the street.

'He was shouting, "Help me, help me". He wasn't coherent. I don't know why they were bringing him in for affray. It doesn't matter, he didn't deserve that.

'He's never been in trouble before as far as I know.

Now, like I said, I don't trust the Daily Mail, and neither does any sane person.

But I'd trust it before I'd trust a British cop.  Their story:

http://www.cheshire.police.uk/news--appeals/latest-news/2011/08/assistant-chief-constable-comm.aspx?lang=en-gb

I wish to express our sincere condolences to the family and friends of Mr Jacob Michael, who died following an incident in Lacey Street, Widnes on Monday 22 August.

In addition to the latest statement released by the IPCC regarding the investigation into the death of Jacob Michael, I believe it is important for the community to know that the detailed post mortem examination this afternoon found no physical injuries on Jacob that could be attributable to a cause of his death.

Also, from the original link:

Today Michael's father, a retired businessman who is also called Jacob, emerged from the property with his daughter after police officers spent 30 minutes speaking to them.

Mr Michael Snr said: 'I cannot say anything at this stage because it's far too early to say what happened and we need to know how Jake died.

I wonder what the Peelers said to him for 30 minutes?

Pancho and Lefty never did know when to quit.  They were old-time train robbers, desperados, and they never did actually adjust to the law coming to the old West.  They just kept doing their thing.

It's difficult, you must realize, to rob a modern train from horseback.  The damn things go fast as hell, and when you finally do get on, there's no payroll or bejeweled passengers to rob.  The internet took care of all of that, with all this new digital payroll.  They still rob the trains, though, because they're a certain type of people, and robbing trains is what they do.

The TSA and the FBI have investigated them, and have stated that they could put a stop to the train holdups anytime they chose to...But nobody's getting hurt, and nothing of any real value is taken (try to fit a conex box on a horse).  Sure, it's still armed robbery, but who wants to be the guy that ended that chapter of history forever?

It's even said that the train drivers slow down a bit when they see the old guys coming.  They're not as spry as they once were and neither, for that matter, are their horses.  

They do it, they say, because this new world of iPods and the internet and 3000 channels on the TV is no fit life for a human being.  They have nothing but scorn for Bernie Madoff, who was nothing more than a slick confidence man...And don't even get them started on bankers.

No, they'll tell you about campsites and hideouts (even if nobody is looking, you have to have a hide out), and hoof beats kicking up dust as they pull up even with the locomotive.  "That's living", they say, and any who want to laugh at them for their anachronistic behavior should be prepared to for them to laugh right back.

"Look at you, with your mobility scooters and your mortgages and your credit cards!  Look at you, with your debt and your worries and your safe lives.  Just LOOK at you, you've been DEAD for 30 years!  Go find your grave and crawl in it, you fucking zombies!  We're ALIVE, and we plan to stay that way until we get killed.  You won't find us dying in front of a computer or a TV or any of the other modern gewgaws designed to make ROBOTS out of you!

"Keep your trinkets, your toys, your cheap Chinese crap that you've been told you need.  Stay in your mausoleums.  Live your "lives".

"Now if you'll excuse us, the 4:15 from El Paso is due in about 15 minutes, and I have a birthday gift for Jack, the engineer.  Known him for years.

And they rode off through the desert, plumes of dust from a cleaner time.

Okay for now,
Dok

Maybe some of you could go all internet tough guy on me and maybe threaten me a little?

Fuck those elitist bastards and their snobby fucking threads!

"We got Brother Jimmy on the TV
Killer on the radio
She says if you want to get it
You got to let it go."
-The Tractors

So you may ask yourself, "Well, who's on this train, anyhow?", and I'm here to tell you, Brothers and Sisters, Elvis is on that train.  Hank is on that train.  Roy Orbison, Johnny Cash, Emperor Norton, Smedley Butler, and Lysander Spooner are on that train.  I'm on that train, and I hope YOU are on that train.  Can I get a hallalujah?  Can I get a "Hells YEAH!"?

And who isn't on the train?  Who's standing on the tracks, with their pants around their ankles and a silly grin on their faces?

Why, 7 billion monkeys, that's who.  7 billion people who believed the lies and distortions of The CoN, who worry about the fnords, who settled for 2nd best, who traded their Godhood for cheap plastic crap.  "Just leave us our iPods", they say, "Just leave us our cable TV and we'll pretend not to notice that we're being reamed in the arse by bankers and congressmen and crooked cops and the horrible people down at the department of motor vehicles."  

They are damned, brothers and sisters, they are on the ROAD TO PERDITION!  

CAN I GET A WITNESS?

Ladies and gentlemen, the late J.R. "Bob" Dobbs once said, "I don't practice what I preach, because I'm not the kind of person I'm preaching to...And I hope you aren't, either."  

Are YOU the kind of person he was preaching to?  Do you cling to your trinkets while sweating the mind-boggling level of debt you have?  Do you seek out causes to champion, causes that are guaranteed to fuck you six ways from Sunday, should they ever be realized?  Do you put your faith in political or economic models that benefit only the people that are already fucking you?

I hope not, friends.  I hope that you have seen through the cheap glitz and the shuffling corpses on your TV.  I hope that you remember that the only Spider is in your head.  I hope that you remember what Curly was trying to tell us, what Johnny Cash told us, what James Brown was screaming out the car window, as he led cops on a 4 state car chase.

If you haven't, all I can tell you is this:  The Train is about to pull away from the station, but the doors are still open.  All you have to do is let go.  Let go of the rubbish they've sold you.  Let go of the beliefs you've been told you have to have.  Let go of crutches like religion and "magick" and myths of the Free Market™, and CRAWL WITH PRIDE!

Time may be a little...elastic these days, but time is short, and it's getting even shorter.  It's time to decide whether you're gonna be on the train or on the tracks.  You don't need ivory tower economic theory, you need a job.  You don't need Keith Olbermann or Rush Limbaugh or Ron Paul, you need that seven pounds of grey shit between your ears.  You don't need sigils and patchouli or fake patriotism, you need common fucking sense.  

Hell, you don't even need "Bob".  All you need is good friends and Saturday night, and we can all sip cheap whiskey and smoke lousy cigars, and laugh at all the poor bastards who managed to justify why being on the tracks is the only sensible option for right-thinking people.

We here in The Church™ say, "Fuck them if they can't take a joke", and I'm here to tell you, THE JOKE IS ON THEM!

CAN I GET AN "AMEN"?

Thank you, and good night.

Okay for Now,
Dok

http://articles.cnn.com/2009-10-01/justice/texas.execution.probe_1_willingham-case-cameron-todd-willingham-execution?_s=PM:CRIME

Tucson is a living reminder that all things must pass.  If you look at Tucson with the right kind of eyes, you see the ruins of the coliseum, the Parthenon, and maybe the shattered legs of Percy Shelley's Ozymandius.  Tucson is a broken town, a ruin still inhabited by the ghosts of the present.

Everything here is either temporary, or something meant to be temporary, that has been patched and propped up long past its intended lifespan.  The very office I sit in used to be an assay lab, and the rusted fittings of copper pipe still exist, as does the fume hood ducting above my ceiling risers.

The feeling generated is one of isolation, in some nightmarish sense.  It is if I am the last man on Earth, sitting in this office and pretending that The End hadn't come...Indeed, it is a sort of insane preview of the world at some point in the future, when all the machines grind to a halt, when the neon signs flicker for the last time before going out forever.

Our homes and tenements all feel like mausoleums, from which we shamble forth every day, to do our appointed tasks that earn us the right to rest for another night.  We are the Babylon of America, standing here with our skull-like grin, to show you that even thou, America, art dust. 

I see you pretending otherwise, with your rotting trappings of empire.  Your carrier fleets, your legions, your feeble attempts to protest The End with your petty displays of power.  I see your recursive culture, brightly lit though it may be, descending slowly into its terminal phase.  I see you buying sports cars in your 60s, your Botox, your trophy pretty young things.

I see all of this, all of this and more, and I tell you that Tucson isn't fooled.  The sands pour from the top of the glass to the bottom, and none can stay the hands of time.  You will grow old, you will die...Just as your tawdry empire will one day pass.  This is Tucson, after all, and we know the face of degeneration.

When you are done with your parties, your fetes and feasts, when you are done with all the noise and commotion with which you attempt to drown out Tucson's song, we will be waiting for you.  Your place is prepared.

And when you get here, we will roll down Congress with the radio playing, through the ruins.  We will listen to dead rock n rollers, we will drink whiskey, we will gaze upon the grinning skull of The Future, and we will call it right & good.

Take your time, though, for we have plenty of time in Tucson.  We have all the time in the world.  We have nothing but time.

Okay for now,
Dok

And the fat corpsefucker thing follows me back here and fucks up my threads.

Something is going to have to be done.

http://www.leginfo.ca.gov/pub/11-12/bill/sen/sb_0401-0450/sb_432_bill_20110216_introduced.html

Seriously.  Read section 1-1.

http://www.thestar.com/news/crime/article/1039286--3-teens-charged-after-slaying-at-barrie-mini-putt?bn=1

Bradley Hubbard died in a bizarre attack at a glow-in-the-dark mini-putt course on Saturday night in Barrie where he was golfing with his girlfriend and two young daughters.

Cierra, 7, and Jayla, 4, complained to their father about three rowdy teenagers who were "breaking stuff and being jerks," according to Hubbard's oldest son, Dustin, 20.

Hubbard told the teens to stop messing around, Dustin Hubbard said, "then things got out of hand and someone stabbed my dad in the neck with a broken putter."

A glow in the dark mini-putt course? 

That's fucking revolting.

John Luther "Casey" Jones (March 14, 1863 – April 30, 1900) was a Goddamn rock n roller.  He was famed for being the fastest engineer in the Midwest, and he was comsumed with ways to go faster (bear in mind that during his lifetime, the maximum speed attainable was about 90MPH, so you can understand his frustration).  On April 30th, 1900, he started an hour behind, and making up time at about 80MPH in the middle of the night.

At the town of Vahaugn there was a traffic jam up on the rails, accompanied by a dense fog.  Jones' Fireman, Simeon T. Webb, who had a better view than he did, hollered at one curve,"Oh my Lord, there's something on the main line!".  Casey was, of course, determined to take things to the wall.  "JUMP, ETHEL!" he hollered¹.  Webb jumped off 300 feet before impact, and was knocked unconscious.  

Casey hit the wall, whistle blaring, and went into legend (Well, he actually went into the boiler, but why quibble over details?).  On the plus side, he was at this point only 2 minutes behind schedule, which is nothing to sneeze at.  So, yeah, he DID supposedly die, but he left a HELL of an impression on Mississippi (according to Wikipedia, the imprint of his locomotive was clearly visible in the adjacent embankment for 10 years after the wreck).  And at some point just prior to the wreck, someone fired torpedoes at him², but he STILL made it to the wall.

Some say he was killed by a wooden splinter through the head, some say a bolt through the neck, others say he was scalded to death by the steam.  You know what I say?

I say "Who cares?"  The man knew the same craving for speed that I feel more or less all the time.  He knew about "damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead".  He knew about rock n roll, and he'd never have put up with shit like we see today.  He'd have run a motherfucker down, then hit his stop - on time - to pick up Elvis and Hank and Roy Orbison.

And they'd have gone full blast, right for the wall.

Okay for now,
Dok



¹  Webb was testing his personal boundaries, and would only answer to "Ethel".  We're not here to judge.

²  For real.  Check the wikipedia page, under "Illinois Central Railroad report on accident".  Some bastard fired torpedoes at him, but the were unable to sink his locomotive.

http://www.talk2action.org/story/2011/3/15/142615/800

I could tell you about Tucson, but why bother?  It's not like the rest of the country hasn't caught the disease...And make no mistake, it is a disease.  It spreads insanity to the far corners of the nation and beyond.  There is no cure, and no inoculation save for "Bob", and that's like amputating your head to stop the bleeding from your throat.  Yes, the bleeding stops, but you don't care.

You can see Tucson all around you, if you look hard enough, with the right kind of eyes.

For example, when you see hardened cops throwing up at a crime scene, Tucson is there.  When you see two people texting while driving, with their kids in the back seat, crash into each other head on, Tucson is there.  When you and your significant other break up for no reason, you've just met Tucson.  Is it not written, "Where two people are together in insanity, there ye shall find Eris."?

Most of these things are usually put down to primate stupidity...But how long can you use that excuse?  No, this is the dawning of a new age...The Age of Dumb, as foretold in 2003 by The Good Reverend Roger.  You can't stop it, for the same reason you can't stop the horrible downward spiral in economics and politics that has been going on for three decades.  Crazy Eddie, the First Born of Eris, is in charge now, and the most you can do is enjoy the ride.

Me, I wouldn't have it any other way.  Wiser men than me, of course, have said that the adage "May you live in interesting times" is a curse...But I've never really believed that.  I have always been a fan of letting the lemmings run, even if they are being chased by Marlon Perkins on a bulldozer.

This is the age of Discordia.  Not the "Discordia" of happy children dancing in the wildflowers.  No.  This is Discordia, and if that idea bothers the hippies, that's just too damn bad.  This is the Discordia as described by LMNO's Dictum, "The imposition of order creates a corresponding and greater amount of disorder".

In a healthy society, for example, Gays would be allowed to marry.  It doesn't hurt anyone, and it's really nobody's business.  But there is a large segment of the population that believes that the only civil liberties that should exist are the ones they themselves indulge in...So they attempt to clamp down, and all manner of hilarity is the result.  The Church of Latter Day Saints learned that, much to their chagrin.

In a healthy society, you could dance at the Jefferson Memorial (Fer Chrissakes)   without being savagely beaten by cops for the crime of expressing yourself.  You could smoke a joint, if you were so inclined, without the risk of having your entire life ruined forever.  You could walk through an airport without being groped.

I could live in a nation where the leading opposition candidates don't want to stone my daughter to death, just because she's bisexual.

All these things are supposed to impose a certain twisted order to our lives...And the disorder it has created is, well, me.  Me, and those people like me.  I come not bearing an olive branch, but instead a baseball bat with a nail through it. 

As I've told you before, being a good citizen is only a winning strategy in a good society.  This is NOT a good society, ergo I am not a good citizen.  I bring wrath to the table, and I won't quit until I've put everyone off their lunch, once and for all.

In short, I represent - in my area - Tucson, and all it has to offer the 21st Century.  Everyone else has two options...Get on the train, or stay on the tracks.  This is, as I have said, Discordia, and this is our time.

Who will stand with me?  Who will bray laughter and spittle in the faces of the "Good Americans"?  Who will knock the legs out from underneath the shit-lickers and the pimps and the fixers and the bloated "ministers" of a religion gone horribly, horribly wrong?

I'll do it myself if I have to, but it's always nice to have someone to laugh with, as the bolts start working loose in the hull of the ship of state.

It's the future.  It's the WRONG future.

Let's do this shit.

Okay for now,
Dok

Big bugs, please.

Really, really big bugs.

They should do the tarantula hawk thing, only on people.  Like in Aliens.

Soon would be good.

Thanks,
Dok

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ea-lbdxp4A

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WSkv_29Rncg

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?  I NOW HAVE TO STALK, KILL, AND EAT A POISONOUS GODDAMN LIZARD!

...I heard John Luther Jones had a loco motive.

Picture that in the White House.

NEW AVATAR DAY!

Click refresh if you still see Squiddy in my avatar.

[NOTE: Maximum of 3 pieces per person. ANY form of artwork is permissable. All entries to be in by September 1st, 2011. Judging will end on October 1, 2011.]

Okay, jackasses, it's that time again.

Post your horrormirth on any subject.  When submissions are in, voting will begin.  The person with the most votes in total (multiple pieces count together, ie, if you get 5 votes on one piece and 3 votes on another, you will get 8 votes) will win some Arizona horror, to be awarded by myself and Freeky.

NOTE:  Maximum of 3 pieces per person.  ANY form of artwork is permissable.  All entries to be in by September 1st, 2011.  Judging will end on October 1, 2011.

You must exhibit at least this much horrormirth to be considered (and unlike the pic below, whatever it is you do must be modified in some way by you, or be your own actual work):



(Standards have gone up, given the excellent pieces that appeared in LMNO's 2009 contest.)

Hey, it's Harry!  Come on in, man, there's plenty of room under the bridge, right?  Just like last night.  Just like every night.

Hey, Harry...You don't look so good.  You sick or something?

Jeez, you've only been hanging out with us for a month.  You sure are losing a lot of weight, man.  I mean, you ain't doing any meth, and you're eating mostly regular, right?

Harry?

Harry?

Oh, shit.  Hey, Gabe, Harry's out like a light.  He don't look so good, he looks maybe like he ain't gonna wake up.

Yeah, right.  You get his shoes & jacket, I get his wallet and his roll.

Let's go.  The cops can handle this and be gone before nightfall.

Oh, what the hell, sure.  We'll call from the Circle K.  It's the least we can do for the old guy, seeing as how he gave us all this nice stuff.

Let's go.

Harry?  Hi, it's the nurse down at the outpatient clinic.  Your Visa card came back declined. 

Yes, I ran it through twice. 

No, I AM terribly sorry, but without an alternate form of payment, we can't give you your treatments next month.

Yes, I know the situation, Harry.  If you can find any method of payment, we can still keep this under control.

Look, I know.  If I had my way, I'd say get your ass in here.  But I'm just the nurse, Harry.  Our bosses certainly won't allow us to treat you without payment, and the only result of us trying would be you not getting treatment, and the doctor and myself getting fired.

Well, you can try, but medicare basically doesn't exist anymore, even though you're technically old enough to enroll.

Maybe you could go down to the VA hospital?  I know they're not the best option, but THEY have to treat you, right?

Oh, you already tried.  No funding there, either, eh?

Well, I am sorry, Harry.  Let us know if you can make arrangements, and we'll make a hole in the schedule for you.

I AM sorry, Harry.

Goodbye.

Yeah, gimme the usual.

Oh, wait.  You're new, here.  What happened to Stan?

Oh.

Ron?  Pleased to meet you.  My name's Harry, and what happened to Stan, happened to me.  Whiskey, please.

No, I was a millwright.  I built things.  For 22 years, I built things.  Then I got sick, and they sacked me.  Tossed me right out, wouldn't even let me clean my own workbench out.  Now they say I owe THEM money, because the time I missed on account of my cancer made them fall behind on a project.  The bastards.

What?  Oh, yeah, they can do that shit now.  They can do anything they want, and if you don't like it, you can sue them.  Know how much a lawyer costs, these days?  It'd drag though the courts for a few years, and even if I won, the legal fees would eat it all.

Hit me again.  Make it a double.

You know, time was, you took care of your job, the company took care of you.  Of course, that was back in the day, long before your time.

What?  Wow.  That's a callous attitude you have there, kid.  Let me ask you a personal question?  How much do you make?

Really?  Stan had been here for 15 years, and he was making twice what you make, and he never once skimmed the till.  What do you suppose is going to happen to you after you get a few raises?  Happens all the time in the service sector.  My wife's best friend was a gas station clerk for 12 years, and they found some reason to can her.  The real reason, of course, is that she was making way over minimum wage by that point, and it's not brain surgery.  They canned her and hired a kid to work for half of her rate, just like they did to Stan.

Oh, you're one of those "free market" guys, then?  Let me ask you something, kid:  What the hell is the point of a society if it doesn't benefit its members?  Why have a free market if it means that 10% get everything, and 90% get shat on?

Oh, yeah.  Yeah, you'll be rich one day, kid.  Of course you will.  Haha!  All you kids are going to be rich.  You even going to college?  Yeah?  What's your major?

That's what I thought, you little punk.  You'll be slinging booze until they do to you what they did to Stan.

Fuck this drink.  It tastes like the future.  You know what that tastes like?  Here, try it.

Fuck you, call the cops.  I'm outa here.  I'll find a loser bar with a better class of losers.

Asshole.

Memo: 2/1/2013

It wasn't his fault, of course, we hold nothing against him.  We valued his 22 years of service, and will be happy to give him a recommendation and a good character for his job search, which we trust will not take much time.

His attendance, however, had been slipping in the last few months, due to some throat or lung cancer or other.  He has at his disposal COBRA, which he can avail himself of for a mere $1250/month, to continue the treatments he says he needs.  He had protested that an unemployed person cannot just cough up that kind of money every month.  We assured him that "he would cough something up, aha ha."...But he failed to see the humor in what we felt was a very witty response.  

Harry never really did have a sense of humor.

So perhaps it is for the best.  In any case, Harry's department is being sent to China next fiscal quarter, which will mean a very significant savings in labor for the company, which should serve to keep the stockholders happy.

On a related note, Harry displayed some rather intense emotions during the exit interview, so we have decided to simply have his personal effects shipped to him.  If he is seen on or near the property, the police are to be called.

Payroll accounting will, of course, be expected to bill him for the work shortfalls caused by his absences.  Since these exceed the balance of his final cheque, the balance shall be referred to our normal partners in the collections agency business.

Please stress to your reports that absenteeism cannot be tolerated, and that nobody is exempt from company policy.

That is all.  You may now return to your labors.

All my rage drained out yesterday.  I am fairly certain this is temporary, but it has left me feeling weird.  I've been angry so long that I didn't remember how it felt to be otherwise.  I remember now, of course.  I was a fairly cheerful lad, once upon a time, when summers weren't so brutal and politicians knew what was a reasonable amount to steal.

I had been clicking through facebook friends' friends lists, looking for more people to harangue with horrible updates, when I tripped across her.  It's been 25 years since I last saw her, but her face was immediately recognizable.  She looks pretty fucking good for a 40 year old.  She's also unmarried, and I gather that this is because her entire life was a series of fucked up relationships, starting with a dumbass 17 year old who had commitment issues. 

That would be me.

Over about 30 seconds time, I felt my normal state of being drain away, and I found to my interest & horror that there really isn't anything else there.  I have become a hollow man, with a life full of holes.

There's the hole where my best friend was.  He's alive and doing well, but he changed, he's not the Mountain Monk anymore.  He's some guy that worries about his portfolio and goes golfing on the weekends.

There's the hole where The Terrible Old Man was.  I expect that hole will be there forever.  The man was a titan, a 30 foot tall man made out of carbon steel that stomped anything and everything that tried to tell him how he had to live or speak.  The world is a little smaller, now that he's gone.

There's the hole where she was.  25 years ago, I could have said the right thing, and everything would have been different.  I could have put my butthurt on a shelf, it was a silly fucking thing to be angry about, but I couldn't stop and say "I love you, I've been stupid, can you forgive me?", and so we split. 

There's more, of course, some not so serious, some even bigger.  I got holes.  I got so many holes that I'm a piece of cheesecloth.

I expect that I'm not the only person that feels this way, in the small hours of the morning, when you can sit and think for a minute.  And it's not like I have lots to complain about...Things turned out pretty damn good for me, after all, and it's not like I won't be better in a few hours, back to the same old Dok that holds your hand and tells you everything is going to be okay.

But for the moment, I have holes.

Okay in a while,
Dok

http://www.independent.ie/business/irish/us-shockingly-lacking-in-political-maturity-2836047.html

[Part I]

From TSC

Part I

Paganism is and always has been crap, whether you are discussing belief in various and sundry dead Gods, or occult beliefs.  For this chapter, we will deal with occult beliefs, as that is the silliest part of the whole mishegoss.

"Magick" is commonly divided into two different belief systems, "actual magic" and "mind hacks".

"Actual magic" is obviously utter bullshit, as can be demonstrated by both the fact that it isn't measureable and repeatable, and the fact that its practicioners are - despite casting a circle, drawing down the moon, and making a public nuisance in the park - the lowest members of their local economy.  If magic worked, you'd expect that they would be able to use it to their benefit, in some manner or another.  If not, why bother?  

It isn't just an expression of faith, after all.  Most religions require worship, but don't require the practice of magic (Catholics and Mormons notwithstanding).  The ones that DO promise that there's some kind of positive net gain to doing so, either now or in the hereafter.  This will be examined further in chapter two.

"Mind hacking" is also bullshit, because the entire concept relies on adding another layer of obscurity between the practicioner and reality as it really is.  You are adding a useless layer of bullshit between you and the Truth.

Both, of course, rely entirely on Confirmation Bias.  You see the world the way you WANT to see it, and then you interpret all the data you receive in a manner that reinforces your belief system.  The data hasn't changed anywhere except inside your head.  You become less and less able to see actual cause & effect, and that, my friends, is a guaranteed way to have a most undesirable interface with the universe, sooner or later.  Probably sooner.

The other thing they have in common is wish fulfillment fantasy.  It's a way of pretending to have power in a world in which you are powerless (no Pagan has ever had power over their own lives, or the lives of anyone other than Pagans lower in the pecking order than themselves).  PROTIP:  Power - or better yet, control - over your own life or the lives of others is gained by taking actual steps in the real world to control your own environment.  This can be in terms of getting a decent job, doing what you want to do with your life, being more assertive with the people around you, or simply not taking any shit off of petty tyrants in your life.

Meanwhile, you're spending a good chunk of your time wearing silly clothes and wondering what color your athame should be (for the "magic is real" crowd) or wanking over a sigil (for the mind hack crowd), instead of doing things that will actually influence your life for the better.

Okay for now,
Dok

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/43949638/

Taxes on the rich stay where they are, the military takes a tiny cut, and medicare/medicaid are going to get torn to shreds.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/07/29/delayed-social-security-payments-debt-default_n_912763.html?icid=maing-grid10%7Chtmlws-main-bb%7Cdl1%7Csec1_lnk2%7C82132

Expect to see congressmen gummed to death by Octagenarian WWII vets.

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/science/who-wants-to-live-for-ever-a-scientific-breakthrough-could-mean-humans-live-for-hundreds-of-years-772418.html

Just kidding.  That's real.

and I think we should stop being so mean to hippies.

In an effort to preserve the lore of the Late Good Reverend Roger, I will be collecting most of his drug-addled turds of wisdom.  Feel free to contribute, if I miss any.

I'll start with his standardized Ironclad Rules for Thinking for Yourself.

Rules 1-20

1.  Lots of shit happens that you aren't told about.

2.  Everything is funny when it happens to someone else.

3.  It's even funny when it happens to you.

4.  At least half of what you think you know is wrong, to one degree or another. 

5.  When evidence is presented that contradicts your worldview, maybe you should re-examine both the evidence and your worldview.

6.  Everyone is retarded some of the time.  The trick is to be retarded as seldom as is possible.

7.  When the rock hits you, holler.

8.  Jesus might provide.  You should probably take steps of your own, at least until he gets around to you.

9.  There is no such thing as "abuse of freedom".

10.  The Law should be the servant of Freedom.  If it isn't, go all Chainsaw Billy and start over.

11.  If you hate skeptics, you probably have bad ideas.

12.  Bad signal, acted upon by yourself or someone else, causes 50% of all the trouble you run into.

13.  The other 50% is caused by stupidity and bad luck.

14.  If it has to be classified or kept secret, it's wrong.

15.  Cops and other authority figures are interested in cleaning their desk, not in seeing justice done.

16.  Three phrases, when used appropriately can smooth out most altercations:  "I'm sorry", "I was wrong", and "I don't know...Let me check."

17.  Happy marriages are usually based on the ability of both people to say "I love you", when you really want to show them what's what.  This also applies to friendships.

18.  If drink or drugs unwinds the spring in your head, be sure to party alone.

19.  There's an asshole in every crowd.  If you can't tell who the asshole is, it's probably you.

20.  If there's nothing to win, don't fight.

Due to a collection of vague threats toward the board, and at one point some nasty insinuations against my children.

If anyone has a problem with this, speak up.

If any admins have a problem with this, please contact me before unbanning him.

I heard that there's not much room in the cemetery, so she's covering Janis Joplin.

She makes Sarah Palin look like Stephen fucking Hawking.


2007, Bachmann returned from a junket to Iraq and told her colleagues, "There's a commonality with the Mall of America, in that it's on that proportion. There's marble everywhere. The other thing I remarked about was there is water everywhere."

Bachmann saw Melissa Etheridge"s cancer as a teachable moment: "Unfortunately she is now suffering from breast cancer, so keep her in your prayers", she said in November 2004. "This may be an opportunity for her now to be open to some spiritual things, now that she is suffering with that physical disease. She is a lesbian."

During a February trip to South Carolina, Bachmann told a South Carolina audience, "I think if we give Glenn Beck the numbers, he can solve this [the national debt]".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LUEk2KoxSr4

The video for this song was made by a 13 year old kid using stop animation, with cardboard and pizza boxes for props.

Fucking amazing.

Because two threads weren't enough.

http://digitallife.today.com/_news/2011/07/14/7082873-lady-gaga-is-banned-from-youtube

If you're in the mood to watch some Lady Gaga music videos right now, you'll have to search around a bit because the singer's official YouTube account has been suspended. The reason? Multiple or severe violations of the video-sharing site's copyright policy.

There aren't any details about exactly what Lady Gaga did to violate these copyright policies, but Time Out Tokyo suggests that it may be related to footage from a live performance:

She posted footage from her recent appearance on the Fuji TV show SMAP x SMAP. The ten-minute performance featured a medley of songs from her new album, Born This Way, laced with Japan-themed ad libs that we're pretty much certain Shingo Katori didn't understand.

I love this shit.  She doesn't have the rights to post 10 minutes of her own material.   

Another possibility is that she was making fun of Betty Ford's hair, while they're in the middle of burying the old bat.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/07/12/ron-paul-retiring-in-2012_n_895704.html

Millions of Ron Paul fans commit suicide.  More at 11.   

http://www.kodachrome.org/branson/

Look at this page.  By the bottom, you'll wish you'd been born in Sierra Leone or some other, more civilized place.  Seriously.  This is kitsch hell.  I mean, who the FUCK takes pictures of the tour bus driver?  And why does everyone look like they're trying not to scream?

Hell, the lead off pic is bad enough.

Holy shit, I hate humanity, even when they're not being outright assholes.

http://www.facebook.com/pages/RIP-Isayah-Muller/174194959309785

Oddly enough, it's very similar to 1940s America.

Not a shoop (yet, that will change).  Zoom in on Michelle Bachmann's face. 



THERE'S NO EYEBALLS!  JUST BLACK HOLES!

(NOW, I'm gonna shoop it.)

Thank you, Japan!   

http://doorknobgirl.tumblr.com/archive

In some places, this MIGHT be considered NSFW.  Not because it's - kind of - pron, but because it's BATSHIT INSANE.

In a city full of asses,
Meth pipes, cigarette butts
and empty whiskey glasses
How shall I find my right boot?

I had it this just this morning
and despite "do nevers",
and the odd final warning
I left it in somebody's ass.

A good engineer boot it was
I had it for a while
but it's long gone now because
some dumb Opie stepped to me.

So if you hear me clumping by
do please check up your ass
Because I'm a sad, footsore guy
And the workday's just begun

Whether you happen to like it or not, everyone¹ is wrong now and again.  Even I, the brilliant & horrible Doktor Howl, have been known to spout a truism now and again.  The question, of course, is how you REACT to being wrong.

The general instinct of primates is to dig your heels in and start screeching.  There's a reason for this...In most primate societies, admitting that you were wrong is interpreted as beta behavior, at least on a subconscious level, and thus leads to a perceived threat to your chances to mate.  That sounds silly, but it's how it works.

However, by virtue of you reading this, you are not in one of those societies...Discordians tend to value The Truth™, by which I mean "The way the universe IS, not how I WANT it to be.".  This almost always comes up in threads about "magick", libertarianism, goldbuggery, Ayn Rand, "real" discordianism", the free market™, and drugs, but is by no means limited to these topics.

So when you start the chest pounding, teeth-on-display , screaming that your pet theory or "fact" is right, in the face of valid contradictory information², there are three perceptions of your behavior:

You (forebrain):  "I'm going to show these guys that they're not so hot, and that I know what the fuck is up".

You (hindbrain):  "If I can make my case, I will get laid with the women here."

What we hear you saying:  "Please Mistress Nigel, hammer that yam straight up into my guts!"

This may seem straightforward, but it's going to bother you on the level at which you are wired...Your primate/pack animal drives.  If you can't overcome those drives, you are probably in the wrong place, and should instead find a board that agrees with your worldview.

The next problem a lot of people run into is knowing something is incorrect, but arguing for it anyway, on account of the fact that the universe SHOULD be that way.  It isn't.  Shut up, or kill me, because I don't want to hear it, and nobody else does, either.  This sort of shit falls under religion, and we are men and women of SCIENCE.

Then, there's the trap of being neither right nor wrong.  If you have made a post in which no actual idea - no matter how simple - is conveyed, then, while you are not wrong, you aren't right either, because there's nothing to be right about.  Anyone who's ever watched a sitcom knows what I'm talking about...As does anyone who has been subjected to "word salad"/dadaism, also known as "chaotic gibberish" or "stream of conscious zaniness."  If you MUST post this sort of garbage, please limit it to one thread, so the rest of us can give it all the attention it merits.  Your timeless prose is not improved by being posted on every thread on the forum.

So, to recap:  If you can't prove your case, but your opponent can, you should probably at least try to look at it from another point of view.  If your post is just intentional gibberish with no idea embedded, do it in private and for God's sake wash your hands afterward.

Okay for now,
Dok




¹  Everyone except the Dark Empress Nigel.  When she seems to be wrong, it's because the universe has made a mistake, and is giving you bad observational data.  She's right, the universe is wrong.  Do not question it.  I am a Doktor.

²  Of course, if YOU have actual evidence and your opposite number can't produce evidence to refute it, you are perfectly free to tell that person to piss up a rope.  The trick here is telling the difference, which requires critical thinking.  I can't teach you that, and neither can anyone else.