Topics

I guess it might come off as kinda sick or twisted
but I must tell you this before we go to bed
I don't believe that love is ought but desperation
and I can't give it just because of what you've said
I'm as hollow as the promises that I refuse to make
As empty as the smile that I will oft forget to fake
And as we stand here in this doorway and you offer me you self
I carry you like a burden or a hand that I've been dealt
Across the threshold of self loathing and regret
into a situation I just haven't fucked up yet
And all the while oblivious you act as tho you know
That's it's going to work out fine

Your fantasies of shining knights so far removed from here
The distant glimmer in my eyes, a broken chandelier
A fairy tale of happy ever after leaves in tears
And all that I can offer is a heart that's full of fear
Of being alone on this my wedding day
The fear of being abandoned by the things I've thrown away
The fear that I will never really care enough to give
The feeling that I'm too far gone to ever really live
That anything of meaning
or any hint of joy
will ever touch my heart


yeah I know but hey, it rhymes for the most part

I've been alone so long in this subatomic void
imagining the things in my make believe world
as the battles raged on with the flags unfurled
as the human race raced for the diamonds and pearls

I looked at shadows on the wall of a deep dark cave
I heard a million voices hollering "jesus saves"
I took a ticket at the counter just to wait in line
When they asked if they could help I said "No. Everything's fine"

There were prisoners in dungeons who had done no wrong
I was chained up in a tower where the guilty grow strong
Picking at the locks till my fingers bled
Screaming at the voices inside my head

They told me everything was broken in the pits of despair
and then they buried me up to the neck and left me there
I had a pocket full of wisdom and a mouthful of dirt
Flirting with apocalypse took the edge off the hurt

The pain of knowing that the ending was becoming clear
Waves of nausea accompanied a primal fear
I was doomed to recollections of a world of pain
Confronted by the truth - there's something wrong with my brain

So I played another head game and I paid the price
Trapped by the contraptions of my own device
Assaulted by defences put in place to protect
Inevitable endgame was mated and checked

Divine intervention neither given nor received
The problem with Jehovah was he never believed
In the apathetic geometry of time and space
So he cut his sacred nose off just to spite his holy face

People like you write winy little letters of complaint
Five measly hundred out of a couple of million that watched the show
And now the guy who made so many laugh is off the air
Thanks for that, asshole!

People like you do nothing but bitch and whine
about every little thing that offends your pernickety sense of what is right and wrong
And suddenly another fucking sign appears
and we can't do our favourite thing, in our favourite place anymore

People like you are the reason there's a warning on my vending machine coffee cup
"Caution: Contents may be hot"
and a wire fence that fucks up the view from my favourite cliff
with a sign - "Caution: Don't stand too close to the edge"

But people like you never do anything, anywhere near the fucking edge
People like you are so far back from the edge it does my head in
You point your sad, pathetic little fingers at the poor bastards
having fun, on the edge, where all the fun resides
and you bitch and whine until they move the fences back another yard
and then suddenly it's not so much fun anymore

People like you are what's wrong with the world
but because of people like you, sticking your nosey little noses into other peoples business
the world is convinced that everyone else is the problem
Five lousy hundred out of a couple of million that watched the show
and you're the moral "majority"
Who's fucking maths is that?

People like you spend so much time frowning on anything you can get your beady little eyes to focus on
that the whole world is becoming tainted, homogenised, one cliff face at a time
But you can only move the fences so far back
until we're all penned in like sardines
and that's when you're going to find out the hard way
that you're surrounded by people like me!

Okay so I'm prolly getting ahead of myself now but, at the rate I work, if I start now, it'll probably be released sometime after issue 15-20.

Anyroad I've been idle for a while so I figured it's time to step up to the plate with "Discordia in Theory and Practice". If Mel Brookes did a movie version of Crowley's work then the book of the film would look something like this.

Practical Jakes, Dealing with cabbages and lots of bold and totally unfounded claims about riches beyond reason and magiqual hosries.

Basically the mandate is - leave no religion/cult/new age fad un-taken the piss-out of.

I'll edit and art direct and possibly provide a bit of content along the way. I need thread miners and official ssookn scribes to furnish my temple with bullshit content.

Any takers?

[18828.30]

This is what I was talking about ITT.

This shit isn't integrated with SMF so you have to copy the topic id from the url eg.

http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=18828.30

The bold part should be pasted into "Article Number:" and the thread title into "Article Name:". Then a comma separated list of tags you wish to apply goes in "Tags:"

Right now there's no login so anyone can spam the shit out it (please do) and I can't find a way of linking to the post direct, only the page of the thread in which it appears (I don't speak SMF but I'm sure this is doable)

This is on my home PC so it'll be getting turned off between about 11pm and 10-ish GMT.

I'm thinking this has the potential to organise this board, over time, into a searchable database of kick-ass shit, as opposed to the state of play at the moment where it's more of a unorganised pile of kick-ass shit, buried under ten tons of gobshite.

Every time a tag is added to an article it's weight is increased by one so that if lots of people were to tag an post 'BIP' this post would appear at the top of a 'BIP' search.

*edit* links fixxt

Who's fault is this?
Was I dealt this hand or did I pick it?

I'm sure I remember having dreams and hopes and aspirations but it was so fucking long ago now I've forgotten what they were. Nowadays I'm killing time as furiously as I can, patiently waiting for it all to be over. Someday, hopefully soon, I won't wake up and have to wade through yesterday's bullshit again. That's the nearest thing to an ambition I have.

What is it with those fucks on the teevee that tell you to "never give up on your dreams"? So a few of them got lucky but, for the majority, dreams are dangerous, dreams give you hope and hope is nothing but a higher height from which to fall when, inevitably, your dreams come crashing down.

Life is pain. There's no caveat in that statement. No one said "life is pain but it's worth it", or maybe some idiot did, maybe one of the lucky teevee fucks who got the life they wanted. Good for them, I just wish they'd keep it to themselves. Life hurts and that's about it for most of us poor dumb bastards, the silent majority who make the lucky ones feel so great cos they don't have to put up with our shitty existence.

I wake up most mornings, way before nature designed me to, I sit in an office staring at a screen and try to remember what being drunk feels like, anything to take my mind off where I am, where I'll be tomorrow and the day after. Then I get my two days of bonus time and spend them drinking as much as I can swallow, just to numb the pain of realising this is all I have to look forward to.

It's a vicious cycle. Drudgery leads to oblivion, leads back to drudgery.

I get barely enough currency to buy the shit that everybody tells me I need. If I don't listen to them, I'm sure all I need is enough alcohol to explode my liver but apparently theres more to life. There's a house and a car and a holiday in the sun. There's matching bath towels and devices you plug into the wall to make the room smell like summer fucking meadows. Is this the meaning of life? To trade the time you have for dishwasher tablets and razors with even more blades than last year?

I'm sure this is wrong but, at the same time, I'm fucked if I can think of an alternative. It's friday soon. I think I'll get drunk and wake up monday, keep those dreams at bay.

Shrapnel, when removed, leaves scars.

Without the shrapnel there are no scars.

Without either shrapnel or scars there is no personality.

I prefer the company of people who's personality consists mainly of scars than those who seem predominantly composed of shrapnel.

Hammer them hard enough they'll fit in any hole you like
the poets and the revolutionaries
integrity splintered
Bleeding hearts pumping hollow threats onto barren soil
hammer them hard they'll fit
threaten to offer enough

Offer threats and platitudes sealed with a healing fist
be a good slave and we'll let you live
fit in the hole and forget your dreams
now you're sleeping on our time
And we'll fill all the blanks in with saccharine sunshine
and drugs to calm the fragile mind
and you'll soon forget you ever felt
numbness and lethargy your only consolation
as the ashes of your life lie scattered on the ticking clock
you have all the time we take

We'll sing you mass produced assembly line lullaby's
from the teevee where we taught you the answers reside
and you'll lap it up like a hungry dog
You'll dial the number on the screen
and a soothing voice on the other end
will tell you that we really care
and that will be enough

In a world where the nearest anyone comes to meaning
is staying tuned
not touching that dial
being right back after this word
The seat still warm
the hole still fits but ever deepens
to reduce the world to a distant chink of flickering light

But by now your fear is gone
a distant memory, along with all the rest of your emotions
stripped away while you were busy trying to float
trying to escape the quicksand of your life
The life we made for you
The life that sucked you down
deep down into the hole you swore you'd never fit
but we hammered you hard enough

I woke up this morning and my world was full of squatters.

Politicians and pigs, lawyers and meth heads, feeble minded rat racers, beggars tramps and thiefs.

Well fuck this shit! It's my world and I never asked any of these idiots to be in it. I don't have time to answer your stupid fucking questions officer. I don't have time to give a shit if your cardboard box leaks in a thunderstorm and you freeze to death. I don't have time to give a shit if you nuke some meaningless smudgy people or if you want to charge me more of this currency of yours for the whatever the fuck it is you pretend to do nine to five.

Fact is, I'm going to be dead soon. Not right now, I hope, but this life of mine aint going to last forever and, quite frankly, you fuckers are kinda bugging me and screwing with my shit at every fucking turn. It started the day I was born when you insisted on registering me in your stupid fucking system. It carried on when I was forced to sit through 8 hours of mindless indoctrination, every day for twelve years of my life, with weekends off and the odd holiday for good behaviour. Did I ask for this shit?

So you taught me to read and write? Big fucking deal! - I'm sure I could have worked that one out eventually. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have taken twelve fucking years and I'm doubly sure it wouldn't have come with built in superstition and wage slave conditioning that took a strong mind and a shitload of resolve to discount. You made such convincing arguments and repeated it so many times. Then there was the endless propaganda - "there's a cold war", "there's a hot war", "The terrurists want to rape your wimminz", "We're at war with psychoactive chemical compounds", "we're at war with the concept of obesity", "we're fighting crime", "we're fighting for freedom", "we're fighting communism", "we're fighting for all the made up bullshit we conned you into believing was so important it was worth dying for"

Newsflash motherfucker! You never got through to me. I mighta looked like I was swallowing that shit, along with all the idiots you stuffed me into the box beside, but I was spitting it back the fuck out, or puking it back the fuck up as soon as your idiot trainers had their backs turned. So here I am and there you are and there are so fucking many of you it makes me weep. Too stupid to be of any use to anything but this bullshit you perpetuate, to dumb to just acknowledge your own wretchedness and roll over and die.

What the fuck am I suppposed to do about you? This is my fucking world and I don't want most of you cunts in it. The guy who climbs up the clock tower and starts pumping bullets into the shambling idiots below - that would be me if I could only find a big enough gun. This place is infested and these clowns are all bollixing it up for all the real people, the ones who realise how dumb it all is, the ones who see through the party political broadcasts, and the infomercials and the tabloids and the sedative gameshows. The people who are so outnumbered there really doesn't seem to be any hope.

All I have left is my hate. It's the one thing you can't take away from me. You set up my world in such a way that I have to spend most of my life doing meaningless, mind numbing bullshit just to ensure I have a roof over my head and food to eat and then you take away all the cool shit I might want to do by declaring war on it. Well I hate you. I'll laugh as your stupid machine crumbles around you and you get crushed in the gears. I'll take to the hills and I'll watch with glee as your empire burns and your people scream in the flames. I'll dance on the ashes of your civilisation. I'll have my fucking world back, thanks.

Or kill me.

They tried to forcefeed me complacency
I chewed off the hand that feeds
They offered must-have, lifestyle accessories
in exchange for my designer deeds
They tried to pick the flies out of my ointment
exorcise the ghost in my machine
I threw a spanner in their oh so great works
pissed a nightmare over all their dreams

They wanted payback for the things I stole from them
I never felt I had a choice
Some get born with all the business acumen
and some get lumbered with a voice
So I spoke out about the things I saw them do
and no one listened to a word
So I just took the shit I figured that I wanted
and hid among the shuffling herd

So now I feast upon the fruits of my illgotten gains
and count the blessings of my wiles
They tried to forcefeed me complacency
but I'd already stolen it with style

[LMNO]

... first a little history lesson

In the beginning was discordia and it was hippies and tripping and thinking for yourself, as long as you were thinking about peace and love and good happiness stuff

And discordia was all about - "everyones a pope"

Then came the internets

And what, in retrospect, has come to be known as web-1.0 and it was nerds and scripting and pioneering dotcom startups, as long as you were well away before the arse fell out of it

And web-1.0 was all about - "the nerds shall inherit the earth"

Then came web-2.0 and it was mashups and blogspheres and rich internet applications, as long as you were online you could be making money more efficiently or communicating with friends around the world

and web2.0 was all about - "the users have inherited the power"

Well I say it's high time we upgraded discordia too

In discordia-1.0 we were all popes, well I say fuck that - in discordia-2.0 we are all gods!

Join the discordia-2.0 pantheon gold rush people and stake your claim (no dominion parking please - lets keep this fair)

for example and straight off the top of my head
(if I've missed you then fuck it - obviously I just don't love you enough or some shit)


LMNO - the god of alpahbets and little segments thereof


Payne - the god of falling downstairs and breaking your fall with your face


Hunter - the god of demonic hatred


TGGR - the god of precision hatred


Silly Cybin - the god of random hatred


RWHN - the god of terrible puns and even worse noseflutery


Cramulus - the god of fake moustaches


SUU - the god of needlecraft


Cain - the god of politics and war


000 - the god of all Holland and perhaps a little of sweden too


Ratatosk - the god of namedropping


ECH - the god of cooking


Davedim - the god of ginger hair

... the rest is up to you - post your name, role in the discordia2.0 pantheon and optional mythos which may or may not be related to that gliffy Cram was hacking together the other week.

Ladies and Gentlemen

Lend me your ears while I paint you a picture. A picture that smells the gasoline victory of a napalm strike. A picture that feels like being impaled on flagpole, waving the banner of truth, justice and the american way. It's a sketch of a murder scene, my murder; a body lying in a pool of clotted blood. One shot, to the head but, here's the rub, the entry and exit wounds don't match up.

Somewhere in the distance a starving dog chews on the remains of the leg of it's master, it's claws long rendered useless from scratching desperately at the front door. Sometimes these things happen. Sometimes life is cruel. Other times the cold hard facts of the matter are - life doesn't really give a shit.

I'm sitting in the living room with the blinds closed. I haven't got the stomach to look at the outside world today, preferring instead to gaze through the lense of that modern day crystal ball that sits in the corner malevolently spewing out banal daytime talk shows, in a crackling glow of escaping photons. Change the channel. Find a rerun of some crappy 70's adventure series to better fit my mood...

Lifestyle 101 - how to be a better zombie in pastel shades and a range of natural fabrics. Great new things you can do with a suction pump and you ass - better than colonic irrigation and the correct way to prepare and serve some weird new fruit that they discovered in the rainforest. It smells like rotting flesh and tastes like diseased cunt, with a subtle hint of almond but it'll be the talking point of any dinner party, "I saw it on the morning show", "Oh I do like their weather report" ... and so the conversation goes in suburban three bedroom coffins up and down the country. Thank god or some fucker at the network for small mercies. Nothing worse than a banal dinner party where something unusual like - nobody talks mindnumbing vacuous bullshit - happens.

There's an advertisement for a titanium coated shaver with 1000 blades and a lubricated strip of soothing cuntfruit extract, guaranteed to shave even closer than the one with only 999 blades. Maybe if I buy it I'll get the sports car and the foreign-looking supermodel? Maybe that's what's been holding me back all these years - not enough blades on my razor.

Change the channel - consumer central - one time limited offer, bargain price, only 50 left so pick up that phone and tell the comforting voice on the other end your postcode and credit card details, we'll ship it right to your door along with a complementary pint jar of lube and a free severed human finger - your ticket to your 15 mins of fame on the front page of the local news rag.

Now that I have your attention, now that I've gone to all the trouble of setting the scene, sketching this scenario for you, I suppose I really should cut to the chase eh?

"Where's he going with this?", you're wondering, "What's the point?"

Unfortunately there is no point


Sorry!

I resist consensus sanity, avoid it like the plague it has become; this global pandemic, infesting the consciousness of mankind, twisting reality from fluid possibility to irresolute concrete walls that imprison and constrict the very dreams of it's inhabitants.

The sane think only in circles. Logical revolutions, courses of action and reaction that arrive, with gruesome inevtiability, at the conclusion from which it began. Sane people see only the past and thus are condemned to repeat it, ad infinitum, ad hominem, ad nauseum.

The sane are looking for me, myself and others like me. Sniffing in the darkness of their pathetic imagination, sensing, somehow, with blind organs, a train of thought, at once alien and threatening to them. I hide in plain sight, my vow of silence a talisman against their detection.

The sane are dangerous. Lunatics and madmen are blamed for the ills of the earth but, truth be told, it's the cold, creeping, beurocratic march of the sane who do the damage, who start the wars and fix the currency and apply the final solution, over and over and over, in a neverending cycle.

Revolution is the sport of the sane. Same old shit with a different packaging. The sane will kill us all if they can only work out the perfect plan. Sometimes I wonder if it can be destroyed but how would one accomplish a feat of such unprecedented magnitude? Screaming from the rooftops is to break silence, the inevitable road to defeat and ruin, and for what? A pebble dropped in an ocean of stupidity will create one ripple, one tiny fleeting ripple, barely noticable against a tidal wave of sanity.

Even if they could be killed - what then? With barely a handful of us left alive would life be any better for their passing? And how would you even begin to wage a war against what's tantamount to an entire race, a 'civilisation' for want of a more appropriate word. In the face of such overwhelming odds there seems nothing left to do but hide, in plain sight and watch their empire burn. Again and again and again.

Thank fuck I'm crazy - at least I can laugh!

This is way ahead of most predictions I've heard

http://www.theregister.co.uk/2008/02/02/d_wave_gets_17_million_funding/

I don't care about the election - Nothing ever changes and power hungry, dickless little men will always think they can get some more.
I don't care about the war - Human beings killing each other is the natural state of affairs no one ever wins but excess people get trimmed off so it's all good
I don't care about the rainforest - it rains there, fuck that place
I don't care about the oppressed minorities - I'm a minority of 1 no one gives a fuck about me when I get oppressed. Sort it out yourselves you whining bastards
I don't care about the little children - they'll be annoying teenagers then miserable old people soon enough
I don't care about the dolphins - they're just mammals pretending to be fish. Grow the fuck up!
I don't care about god - he either doesn't exist or he's too pussy to show his face round here. Fuck that fella
I don't care about the law - the only thing that's illegal is getting caught. I'm too smart for that shit.
I don't care about freedom - I refuse to earn it, fight for it, steal it or take what they give of it. There's either no such thing or I'm so free I can't see it. Either way fuck freedom.
I don't care about right and wrong, black and white, left and right. Two sides of the same coin - it's never that simple
So what do I care about?
Not a whole fucking lot - me and my own. The rest of the world can go to hell. Show me one person who, in their heart of hearts, can honestly say they feel differently. I'll put a bullet between their eyes - the world will be a quieter place

in the beginning there was the evil emperor constantine and he co-opted and perverted some bland hippy cult and repackaged it as SIN^tm

And the nicea posse looked at this sin and it pwnt

and sin begat guilt

now 2000-odd years on the average talking monkey is so conditioned to feel guilt when accused of sin that its kneejerk reaction to any unusual situation is

"is this a sin?"

and it worrys and it frets

and guilt begat fear

fear is the only foolproof way to effectively manipulate masses

flooding the market with bullshit laws is how you keep the people guessing, paranoid, afraid to do anything new. The "law abiding citizen" is so pussy whipped they'll do anything authority tells them just to stay out of jail.

Next step is thoughtcrime - enjoy!

The Skull 'n' headphones is so obvious I'm sure it must have been done before but it's original artwork and it's yours if you want it.

chorus

die
another day
another way
another game
you ought not to play
another chance
you throw away
to save yourself
from hell to pay

you couldnt help
but roll the dice
you sail so close
to paradise
but something changes
every time
the vision fades
the dream must die... chorus

So many things
still left to do
another list
you won't get to
another beat up
black and blue
another fucked up
through and through
another suicidal friend
another pact
until the end
another stinking fucking lie
another chance for you to die ... chorus

sometimes you feel like letting go
sometimes you hear "I told you so"
sometimes you cut and the blood just flows
sometimes you're caught in undertow
sometimes the current sucks you down
sometimes your heart beats like a clown
sometimes you do just what they say
sometimes you die another day

chorus

the dead reach out
and clutch your skin
you slip the noose
you're free from sin
this fairy story has no end
the knife you hold
your one true friend

the love you give
is yours to take
the life you live
is dripping hate
the games you play
are tempting fate
an appetite
you cannot sate

and so behind this thin veneer
of normalcy you disappear
to hide behind the rictus smile
you play the game
another while
until you feel
the coast is clear
you stalk your prey
and smell it's fear
you hunt them down
you walk away
you make them die
another day

There's a lie I've told myself so much
I started thinking it was true
Dunno why I want to believe so much
but I obviously do
maybe something in my personality type
or buried deep in my dna
but whatever it is its gonna have to go
before my whole life slips away

The ministry of propaganda
drops a memo through my door
this weeks special is terrorism
replacing last weeks war
the people on the teevee screen
are smiling as they wave
I feel like I'm just killing time
til I can turn round in my grave

They say the truth will set you free
thats the biggest lie of all
the truth will blow your mind apart
as it grabs you by the balls
no matter how far you try to run
it'll find you hiding there
the truth is a pistol you point at your head
in the black pits of despair

Chaos is such a pretty thing
but it sure as hell aint just
The guilty put the good on trial
grind their bodies into dust
This is the nature of our world
our species and our race
just a bunch of talking monkeys
fucking up the whole damn place

And some see this state of affairs as wrong
the most wretched ones of all
The syphilitic whore of truth
has paid those fools a call
And they obsess and plot and scheme
how to sort the whole deal out
Trying to spread their own infection
"revolution!" goes the shout

More bloodshed comes as the cause gains strength
to oppose the tyranny
Our oppressors hung from the gallows pole
or burned in effigy
The ones who led the countercharge
replace the ones who fell
Once more the little guy gets humped
and his freedom sent to hell

No closer to utopia
faintest glimmer still unseen
The truth puts paid to that pretty fiction
the horizon of our wildest dreams
better to lie and cheat and steal
and send our sons to war
it's what us hairless apes do best
it's what we're fucking for!

There's one hand behind everything
pulling the strings

some call him the devil
and some call him god

the lord is my shepherd
he maketh me consumer goods and an appetite for consumtion

the devil takes them back again
and teaches me to hate

the greatest creation that god ever pulled was duality
convincing us there's two of him

and only one deserves to rule

the lord is my shepherd
he leadeth me to slaughter

he giveth me weapons
to fight against the weapons he gave to mine enemies

he tells me they are evil
as I was accused unto them

we both of us, my enemy and me
paid dearly for those weapons

to fight for our freedom
to pay the ultimate price

The lord got both cheques
along with two sets of conflicting gratitude

I am promised a great life
in exchange for the one I have now

If I'm still around after I die then I can collect

If I shop around I can get a better deal
like 50 free virgins when I get there
but that's patently ridiculous and besides
the people who promise this are quite obviously evil
I mean they carry weapons!
which reminds me, I need another assualt rifle to protect myself from those lunatics
I'd better see the lord about that!

This is not a drill!

repeat ...

This is not a drill!

If you take the time to look out the nearest window you will see the world, not as it is, but as you want to see it. Look again. Does it look any different?

If you are lucky then Your life will have led you to the brink of insanity, countless times.

If you are smart you will have never taken the leap.

If you are afraid then you never will.

Hell awaits you in the abyss that lies beyond the veil of the world as you want to see it.

Guarded by visions of demons so terrifying they'll tear your soul to shreds.

Hell will repair the damage that the demons inflict but only if you take the plunge.

Only if you let go of the reality you cling to.

And fall into the depths of emptiness.

The hollow mind that thinks the shallow thoughts that make you feel like you belong.

Is nothing but a pale reflection of the potential that lies within you.

A flight of fancy that got out of hand.

Destroy the mind to unlock the potential.

Or go back to whatever the fuck it was you thought you were doing before these words interfered with your tainwreck of thought.

I'll see you in hell.

A half arsed attempt to squeeze out something interesting. Hands up if you ever felt like this....

We're getting into crunch time now
the victims have been spent
There's nothing left but empty pockets
to satisfy the rent

The tables turned so many times
we've all seen every side
and naught but fucking imbeciles
feel the glory of the pride

We've pissed away our freedom
on the lie of immortality
Abdicated heritage
consumerized insanity

ignored predictions far too long
to the point of this calamity
and still we're playing at pass the buck
and blaming with alacrity

And on and on we carry out
our senseless carry on
Sawing the branch on which we sit
til the whole damn tree is gone

And still we refuse to wake up to
the shitstorm that awaits
the warning signs that line the road
that leads us to our fate

And some might see a tragedy
if it only caught their eye
But we know it's a comedy
and laugh so hard we cry

Lets play the drinking game
let's not stop til we reach the bitter end
lets lie down in a puddle of piss and self hate
lets pretend we've found a solution to being awake

Pass me another one of those bottles
pass out on the sofa watching shit fly across the tv screen
pass the remote with the self destruct button
walk on by and don't ever look back

Dream a dream of how it used to be
before the whole world melted before my eyes
dissolved in alcohol just like all my cares and concerns
washed away til hangover day

The day that never comes
cos the bottles keep the clocks turned back
spin the bottle quench the thirst
wait for the curtain to fall

The show's been on too long
I know how it ends anyway
I aint got bullets or a gun
but my trigger finger's on the bottle opener

gonna blow my fucking brains out
nice and slow

You are
queen ridiculous
I'm the united state of mind
we are quite the pretty picture
look ahead at what's gone behind

this is
the big apocalypse
scorched earth and shallow graves
shrink wrapped mass produced slice of redemption
synthetic plastic jesus saves

I said
I'd be back later
another day that'll never come
You waited hours in the pouring hailstorm
I can't believe you would be so dumb

You take
the fuzzy sedative
and the promise of happy town
I'd read the warning on the packaging
before I'd swallow that shit down

Hands up
if you bought the teeshirt
you know the one with the smiley face?
stand up if you went the distance
the finish line of the human race

You're sick
and tired of what you see
I'm just twisted front to back
We are sleeping through the hurricane
I guess we cut each other's slack

Hi I'm Cybin. You may remember me from such memes as 'The Baby Jesus', 'The Scottish Empire' and 'Do what you want to say'.

I used to post here a lot. Like 40 times a day. Every fucking day!

If I missed a day or two it'd be fkin chaos, eyelids held open by duck tape and matches, typin till my fingers bled, catchup, catchup catchup.

Reading every post, every day, it was 'surfing' the internet in the true sense of the word - riding on top of a surging deluge of posts which threaten to swamp you whenever you take your eye off the ball. Drowning in a sea of memes and one-liners and literary prose on par with the greats.

Not anymore.

I know when it happened: It happened a couple of months ago.

I know what caused it: IRL stole all of my attention.

Something interesting demanded all my time. Reality sucked me in like a great big fucking mud-vortex. A whirlpool of sucking grey.

I took my eye off the dream and immersed my self in the illusion of the real.

Well I'm sick of it.

I've had enough.

Goddamnit I miss this place!

Not that this place has gone anywhere, no, I just miss being in it. This place that has no location, this united state of mind.

I miss the people, imaginary alteregos, manifested in plain text yet, somehow, more real than the characterless husks that pass me by in the street.

I miss the way I used to feel, posting here. Like what I said, on the level I said it, was connecting with people in a way that seldom happens IRL.

F'kin IRL is a pale imitation of the internets!

I'm trapped here, IRL.

I'm posting this in the vain hope that one of you anonymous fair weather friends can snap me out of this funk I'm languishing in.

Help me virtual weirdo's - you're my last hope!

The following is totally true:

So I had a dream last night. Even for me this one was weird. I'm an elephant right, but a female one and I'm being led on a chain, around the back of a petrol station to be fucked by a bull elephant.

So he gets over the back of me and this huge, prehensile elephant cock is wriggling about but he can't get it in so I reach down with my (human) hands to try and spread open my female elephant bits (like the wommenz in the pron videos do) but my fist slips right up dumbo's urethra.

Anybody have a clue what fisting elephant jap-eye says about my mental state? 

I ripped apart my bill of rights to serve
I threw away my currency
sometimes I think I got what I deserved
but they never got the best of me

they laughed at all my screams
pissed on all my dreams
but they couldn't put the fire out

I wasted every chance they gave
to shut up and behave
and fill my pretty cave
with all that I could save

They said this was the promised land
I told them they'd been had


But I rage against them quietly
so they don't kick the bullshit out me
when everybody's wrong
it's you that don't belong

So I laugh at their insanity
from the sidelines
I smile as all their plans burn to the ground

As empires rise and fall
and few ears heed the call
they think it's a catastophe
with their backs against the wall

They fight to save the promised land
til there's nothing left to save

Legalise the devil's in the details
Whereupon ambition turns to dust
Once upon a time I had ambitions of my own
For how long before my flesh and bone should rust?

Spin the wheel and watch another sunrise
The attic of my mind required a clean
Silhouettes and shadows waged a war upon the senses
wrote epitaphs for all my hopes and dreams

With all the certainty that I can muster
I'm surrounded by the sleeping and the damned
I tried to wake them up or offer them redemption
but they're too jaded or confused to understand

To all intent and purpose I keep silence
Muffled by a veil of ignorance
Forsaking undertakings to stir up and awaken
I laughed so hard I almost shit my pants

[Sociopath]

Sociopath
so¬?ci¬?o¬?path (sō'sē-ə-păth', -shē-) pronunciation
n.

One who is affected with a personality disorder marked by antisocial behavior.


So I'm trying to watch tv last night and, about half way into the film I couldn't hear it cos of the screaming in the street. 13 year old from across the road is out his face on booze and pills and is shouting abuse at the alcoholic family next door. He's really going for it too and, what's more he's mob handed - 3 older guys, mates of his sister.

"This could be fun" I think to myself. There's been a feud going on with those two buildings for years now maybe tonight we'll get some claret. So I turned down the tv so I could hear better and opened the blinds a bit more so I could see better.

The young kid is hollering up at the window and then makes some wisecrack about the pissheads mom. That did the trick, next thing him and his dad come charging down the stairs, ready to kick the living shit out the 13 year old (I don't think they'd seen his mates by this point or they'd never have come out)

The 13 year old is fucking wasted but he aint stupid so he backs off and draws them into an ambush. Suddenly one of the older guys sprints in and smashes the dad in the head with a bottle while the other two chase his son back up the stairs into the house.

I laughed like fuck when the old geezers false teeth came flying out but the whole time I'm thinking to myself - "shouldn't a normal person feel some kind of empathy for this asshole?"

TBH I'm one step away from putting that familys door in and taking a bat to their heads anyway (gotta think of my property value after all) but when I look out at a street that has rapidly filled up with 20 - 30 screaming idiots I'm pretty sure that (legislation aside) I could quite happily march out there and put a bullet between the eyes of every last one of them. I mean come on, I'm trying to watch a movie here!

So now I hear through the grapevine that the father is walking with a stick now cos someone jumped on his spine at one point and all I'm thinking is that a decapitation would have been way cooler.

Is there something wrong with me?

I realise that, technically, these are people but, more and more, I'm seeing them as things.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2S--juyE9I

enjoi

There is you and there is them.
They are not you despite any efforts you may make to bend your mind to thinking you are one of them
You are you.
They are not.
They may tell you what you are, where you are and what is expected of you.
They may convince you they are right, that you are, indeed, one of them.
But you will know differently, whether you are prepared to admit it or not.

Perhaps you will continue to lie to yourself.
You'll pull the wool over your own eyes.
You'll walk, talk, eat, sleep and shit like them.
You'll extol the virtues of being one of them.
It's to be expected, it's the way you're wired as a creature, as a self replicating biological machine.
A number of years so vast as to be utterly incomprehensible to you has resulted in you being born on this earth with the imprinted urge to fit in.
From the moment you took your first breath your programming took over, seeking to imprint on the first two dots with a line underneath that your eyes registered.
"This is your mother", it said, "It will give you everything you you need and tell you everything you need to know"

You were born a mammal.
The mammalian way is that of community.
You had no say in that. A mammal is what you turned out to be.
You learned the rules with a natural propensity to fitting in to the family unit which you found yourself existing in.
It started with "Use the lungs to vibrate the vocal chords to attract attention"
That one was given to you before you're lungs had developed in utero.

You knew how to scream before you were born.
You knew a whole lot more too.
You knew how to pay attention.
You knew how to learn and mimic every little nuance you observed.
You learned to speak and, in doing so, you learned how to think.

But you are not them, no matter how hard you try.
You may have gotten the job and purchased the lifestyle.
You may attend the meetings and read the literature.
You may even have rebelled against them and joined a subset of them who rage against the establishment according to their own established form.
But you aren't them either.

And you know this.
And so do they.
Why am I telling you this?
Simple - I'm not one of them either.

The king is on his throne
lives his life down to the bone
he's so very far from home
break a leg motherfucker

I been living in a dream
the sublime to the obscene
when I wake a want to scream
but it turns into a stutter

cos Ive seen this all before
sick and tired but yell for more
I'm romancing painted whores
who only lust for money

Money talks and money sings
money takes and money brings
all those captivating strings
tie the knot around my freedom

Like a shadow on the corner
underneath the streetlights glow
Where the diamonds on the sidewalk
are a deadly undertow

I will give my love a symbol
then I'll look her in the eye
show the gold behind the window
then I'll lay me down to die

Keep 'em coming chaps, you know the drill.

Welcome to Black Iron Prison

You're here for the term of your natural life or until you die, whichever comes first.

Please choose the dimensions and furnishings of your cell, these can be changed at any time.

Please choose the flexibility of these dimensions, this can be changed at any time.

Please choose your activities from the options available, these can be added to at any time.

Failure to do so will result in a decision being made for you, this will become harder to change the longer you make use of this feature.

By leaving here you agree to the terms and conditions of this contract.




This message was written, in invisble pigment, on the inside of your mother's uterus.

It still applies.

You found god

In an age when the old superstitions have given way to new
The cult of celebrity replaced the cult of the dying god
When men still think the graven image before them is the direction to be taken
When men still see the carrot but not the stick it dangles from
and when the almighty dollar has replaced redemption with another sigil that means nothing except the value placed upon it
Then the priests of the new religion are born

Priest is your mainline to god right?
Used to be a guy, in a suit, from a pulpit, you remember that shit right?
*Newsflash*
The priest has evolved.
The sermon upgraded
The priest is now a box in your living room, preaching the gospel 24/7
Life is good
Life is precious
Life is free
Life is under attack, buy now while stocks last!
No judgement day til april next year!

The gospel is beamed into your head fucko!

In the olden days there were priests and followers.
The priests told the followers what's what and the followers sat up and fucking listened.
there's nothing much changed

'Cept now it aint "do what we tell ya and the immortal puppy spirit of the harvest (or whatever bullshit) will make your crops grow"

Now it's "subscribe to the almighty corporation, work your ass off and you can have a McFreedom Burger and a blowjob from Christina Aguillera"

Nowadays you're falling for an even wilder story than the one about the faith healing zombie cannibal

Nowadays you're pissing away your life, spending every moment either working your ass to the bone or working out out how to spend those hard earned dollars on the accomplishment of that lifestyle demographic you "absolutely must have! Satisfaction guaranteed or your money back!"

In the olden days there was always clued up social engineers, manoeuvring themselves into a position of power and authority, feeding off poor dumb fucks.

There's nothing much changed, other than the technology has moved on.

Now it aint a question of who can read and write. Now it's a question of who has the stongest brand placement, who has the most loyal consumers in their customer database and their line in bullshit has come on leaps and bounds too.

Used to be they'd read ya some crap in latin and then threaten you with medieval 'goth' poetry before fleecing you for every penny they could get away with.

Nowadays these bastards actually deliver! You can have two dreams for the price of one, ten for the price of two, you can have a hundred little hearts desires, pumped right in via your cerebellum, delivered to your door, free of charge (terms and conditions apply, free delivery on offers over fifty spondoolicks)

Advertising Lullaby

Quality, value, style, service, selection, convenience
Economy, savings, performance, experience, hospitality
Low rates, friendly service, name brands, easy terms
Affordable prices, money-back guarantee.

Free installation, free admission, free appraisal, free alterations,
Free delivery, free estimates, free home trial, and free parking.

No cash?No problem!No kidding!No fuss, no muss,
No risk, no obligation, no red tape, no down payment,
No entry fee, no hidden charges, no purchase necessary,
No one will call on you, no payments or interest till September.

Limited time only, though, so act now, order today, send no money,
Offer good while supplies last, two to a customer, each item sold separately,
Batteries not included, mileage may vary, all sales are final,
Allow six weeks for delivery, some items not available,
Some assembly required, some restrictions may apply.

So come on in for a free demonstration and a free consultation
with our friendly, professional staff.Our experienced and
knowledgeable sales representatives will help you make a
selection that's just right for you and just right for your budget.

And say, don't forget to pick up your free gift: a classic deluxe
custom designer luxury prestige high-quality premium select
gourmet pocket pencil sharpener.Yours for the asking,
no purchase necessary.It's our way of saying thank you.

And if you act now, we'll include an extra added free complimentary
bonus gift at no cost to you: a classic deluxe custom designer
luxury prestige high-quality premium select gourmet combination
key ring, magnifying glass, and garden hose, in a genuine
imitation leather-style carrying case with authentic vinyl trim.
Yours for the asking, no purchase necessary.

It's our way of saying thank you.

Actually, it's our way of saying 'Bend over just a little farther
so we can stick this big advertising dick up your ass a little bit
deeper, a little bit deeper, a little bit DEEPER, you miserable
no-good dumbass fucking consumer!'

Dunno if this should go here or Or Kill Me tbh but it just came out of my head and I felt like putting it somewhere

I am grandmaster
Order of magnitude
Level of intensity
Gradient incline

Thirty three and one third degree
wizard of windows
Please click to continue

I come from approximately 100 milliseconds in the future,
by your earthly reckoning
I see the ground before it hits the ball,
if you will

Stay still

Concentrate to solvinate

Coagulate to accumulate

and pontificate on the state of the unheard debate
that goes on in your head
when you pay what you will to the potentate
grand visier of the wetware internet
by way of attention to the disorderly deficit

Get on with it

Play the game like you give a shit
Turn on, tune in, trip out
this is reality teevee, people
so get over it

It's a simulated roller coaster
a ninety nine cent ride
through the worlds first neural net
grown accidentally in a vat of random chemicals
over a million billion years ago

tonight you get to see the final show
Just like you did dast night and the night before
and you complain cos your lifes a bore?
Well not anymore

Choose to deplore or choose to ignore
but don't choose to switch off
or you lose
and get ripped off
by the guys in the gucci flip tops
who try to reduce you to a bit player
in a cast of statistics
not something realistic
like you know your real life really is
and it makes you sick

don't make it easy for them
give them a shifting demographic
cause panic
in the rank and file
of consumerisms taste and style
make them choke on the bile
be a spanner in the works
If that's what it takes

This is your show
and you call the shots
and thems just the commercial breaks

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vuNZKda2uCc

... from a past life as a wannabe level designer

some stadiums for Sourceball mod


Dead Space Elephants







Gravity Arena (based loosely on original Speedball2 pitch



Ball Launch Cannon Mk1

Mk2












Tokyo Megaplex









Some stuff I did for a Star Trek Machinima project

Lend me your ear and I'll fill your head with bullshit
I'm like a surgeon cutting up your mind
But this aint precision endoscopy or micro sutures
I'm something from the dark ages with a rusty saw and a pocketful of leeches

No anaesthetic - you already had your fill of that
I'm sucking all that out with a tube
all your cosy daydreams and mtv fantasies
poured into a bucket at my feet, leaving you nothing but the pain

The horrible realisation, bared like a corpses grin
laughing at how dumb you've been all these years
laughing so hard it starts to hurt, this is hysteria
this is my gift to you

I've planted my idea in your mental garden
not a good idea - mine is a badass mothefucker
vicious beyond belief, an obsession
chewing and tearing and strangling all the rest

My idea is a weed,it's a virus
it's gonna kill your happy thoughts
murder them in their sleep
and when you wake up there'll be no comfort

Just my idea gnawing away your soul

Lotta noobs come to forums.

Lotta noob hating going on.

Lotta noobs complaining about this.

Well fuck you noobs it aint your place to complain but, for your benefit and (more importantly) for the benefit of anyone who, like I have, has found themselves wondering why this noob is drawing their flaming bile like a great big flaming bile vacuum-suction apparatus.

I wondered why and, as is usually the case when I find myself wondering about something I'm doing, I went exploring. Here's what I turned up.

Firstly I tried to put what was going on in some kinda context. What was the situation? Did I have a frame of reference from somewhere else in my field of experience?

It's the internets, by definition a fairly recent development. Essentially its a form of communication between humans. Like talking or sending letters or smoke signals. Discussion forums seemed to me to be like a kind of conversation but handled in some weird kinda timelapse, where you're having any number of conversations, with any number of people at the same time.

Basically a noob is akin to someone coming up to a group of you and your friends, in a bar or public place and suddenly butting in on the conversation. We all know this fucker. We've all seen him and his desperate, shrink wrapped expression, craving acceptance and admission to your group because he doesn't have one of his own. Why? Usually it's because he's a twat and no one will hang out with him and entertain his bullshit, which is exactly what your group does when they tell him to fuck off.

Yes, noob, god gave you the right to cut in on our conversation. He also gave us the right to pile abuse on you, email you browser bombs or just plain ignore you.

There's a 50 post suggestion round here. Personally I don't buy it. If some fuckhead comes up to me and my mates in the pub and starts talking shit and butting in on our chat I don't wait til he's said 50 stupid things til I kick him in the nads. No different here. You want to join in? Fine, introduce yourself why dont ya?

If you turn out to be an asshole then don't come whining to me when I flame your ass. Remember this shit is virtual. You might be a strapping lad IRL and not used to taking abuse but round here you're just another noob pipsqueak and I aint got the patience to be polite so get used to it.

If you're cool then you'll get away with it but if you aint then do us all a favour and fuck off!

Worlds turn.
Night turns into day
Day turns into night
Man is born unto his kingdom just as he dies and turns to dust
Tradgedy and comedy the rewards of his daily toil

The universe doesn't care.
It ticks and tocks with the precision of a finely tuned machine.
It never makes mistakes, the mechanism so precise, so perfect in it's operation.
Galaxies are born and then destroyed, not by arbitrary justice or the whim of the cosmos.
Rather by the operations and interactions of particles who's microscopic magnitude is matched only by the awesome scale and complexity in which they manifest.

In the absence of any other intelligence it falls to us to think the universal thoughts.
To dream the universal dream.
Our will is to judge and to decide the destiny of all which falls under our dominion.
For who is to stop us?
Who, other than us, will say that what we do is right or wrong?
This is our part in the grand symphony - to compose and then conduct and then appreciate the harmony and measure.
Without us who will marvel at it's brilliance?
Who will appreciate this awesome cosmic opera?

We are the audience.

We are god.

...and this time it's aquatic

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-JQiMcFwkc

Spiders smoking cigarettes invaded my home town
Killed everyone with a deadly mix
of passive smoke and venom

I was just a babe in arms I hid inside the teevee
I was brought up by the cast of beverly hills 90210
and some bears from a documentary on discovery channel

Shannon Doherty was my mom
and my dad was Tyson the alpha male grizzly

I'd divide my time between trips to the mall for the latest must-have fashion accessories
and practicing catching fish, in my teeth, at my favourite spot in the forest up the road.

One night the remote broke and me, my mom and dad and Lisa Simpson, who we'd met up with while late night channel hopping for food one night, got stuck in the movie The Shining and had to hide from Jack Nicholson for a while, as he chased Shelly Duvall around with a fireaxe.

Eventually I found out in CNN that the spiders had all died from emphysema and cancer and I climbed out the back of the teevee set a boy of thirteen with no knowledge of this strange new world I found myself in, other than the shows I'd visited, most of which, I later found out, weren't based on the single reality I found when I landed on my living room carpet in a shower of sparks and static.

It was a ghost town, littered with the silk-shrouded, dried out husks of it's former inhabitants. I found a supermarket. At least they were real, shame about the federation starship replicators but at least I could be pretty sure there'd be food inside. Some of the names I recognised, some of the sell by dates were still unreached. I filled a holdall I'd picked up in aisle 13, with as much food and drink and firm-hold stying gel as I could comfortably carry. I turned back on second thoughts, when I'd almost reached the exit and rifled the tills for cash, then I left. Next stop - a set of wheels then I really had to get my wardrobe in order.

Nothing solves anything
Solve aint coagula

we do one
then try to control the others happening

here are all the principles from life in motion
to scientific notions of speed and distance

Over Time

Tick over tock

burning a hole in the mind
and the illusions we project
and we are subject to
in this act we melt the object of reality
before our very eyes the slate is wiped
and the machinery behind revealed
and what has been concealed
becomes one more experience beheld

the Pariah bides his time
counts it out in little slices
that he analyses and examines
much to the whim of his own devices

he experiments
he realises
makes it happen
in a blink of the minds eye

he does not respect it other than with awe
and does not necessarily tread it's paths
in reverential manner as expected by established order
and so is outcast
shunned
and turned
at every door he shows his face
for fear he will endure
to upset the delicate balance
as is upheld in this sacred place

Pariah is who he is
no apologies he makes for this
for he is great as he is tiny
and evermore the state is bliss

SOOKN counter propaganda
from the very public disorder of the Holy Pariah

[A hardon in one hand, a remote in the other,900 channels and no porn]

A hardon in one hand, a remote in the other,
900 channels and no porn

(21st century angst)

You can show men dying in a hail of bullets
You can show women trapped in a burning train
You can show cars crashing and the bodies in the wreckage
Or animals melting from acid rain

You can talk about murder and rape and death
You can show us how it's on the rise
let us see a kid drowning in a freak typhoon
or some body that's been shot between the eyes

but you can't show titties on the teevee screen
cos that would freak the children out
No you'll never see a pussy on the six oclock news
Everyone would scream and shout

Talk about riots and hate and war
say anything except the word 'fuck'
No you can't show titties on the teevee screen
I guess that's me just kleenex out of luck.

As requested....





























Last but not least, original and still the best...

I was turning widdershins and casting my faerie dust out to the four quarters, whilst traversing the path of the tower just a minute ago when my votive candle blew out and I became aware of an ethereal presence in the room. "Blessed be" it told me, "I am nepherphockphock and I bring news from the place of dark misgiving."

I cast a sphere of protection around myself but decided to hear this spirit out. "I bid thee speak thy piece and leave, o' obscure but authentically Egyptian sounding deity.

"I have been sent by the ancient lords of time to bestow upon thee a new kind of Majeek" (spelled properly here for the first time ever) ", which will come to rule all other systems on account of it's total pwnage and forward thinking design."

"And verily I say unto thee," continued the entity, "the new Majeekal system shall be depicted in the form of a flowchart"

***Meanwhile back in the real world***

Looking at all the diagrams that have been flowing around lately, coupled with the occult talk round here, I'm wondering if anyone is interested in trying to come up with compact, basic charts that could describe occult formulae? It's a kind of vague notion but I've been seeing some really descriptive notations of paradigms of consciousness and it's got me thinking.

The bollox above was mainly down to the fact that there's been feck all posts all day and I wanted to write something.

Liber Null point six - The formula of the Psilophant

An opportunity arises upon ones introduction to the psychedelic experience. This opportunity, if seized upon, will grant the traveller access to a whole different existence paradigm, a reality beyond reality. What the Navigator might call teh Veil of the Temple (yes it's the same gate although they wouldn't like to admit it), any time one concentrates. What's more that access is unconditional, the door can only be closed from the outside. Of course the average tripper doesn't know what the fuck to make of what he saw behind there, all just another in a long line of freaky chemical induced experiences one chalks under the heading 'Friday night'. But now and again the odd 'Pariah' will realise he saw something in there.

This cunt will charge straight back in screaming "What did I fucking see" and a big voice from inside will say "ITS A TREE", in huge capital letters the size of buildings, "DONT EAT TEH APPLE" and one will be left standing there thinking "Holy screaming fuck I thot this was some kind of pisstake!" And a woman in a big fancy gossamer dress will say "Sokay, there there. Here, have an apple" And ... "CRUNCH!" So the traveller will explore the tree backward, the experience precluding the intellectual understanding both of which being traditionally approached vice versa.

Prolly just as many years as the qualified people later, albeit by a much more strangled and oftentimes bizarre route, the voyager will arrive at such a place as he realises he has been before and that's it. Circle navigated, paths studied and traversed. Journeys end, right back where one started.

One can if one wishes burgle SSOOKN head quarters, come on kiddies Uncle Alkaloid will show ya the hole in the fence!

As many 'ones' crowbarred in there as I could to make it sound all Crowley and official - like



K can someone vehemently denounce this as vile heresy or pick it apart with righteous indignance pls.