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Apple Zone / I have a fan on facebook.
« on: Today at 03:47:37 am »
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3
Apple Zone / THIS EXPLAINS EVERYTHING.
« on: Today at 02:59:03 am »
My guts are full of tiny Frenchmen.
4
Apple Zone / Dear PD...
« on: Yesterday at 05:34:48 pm »
You don't look so hot.
So, what's wrong, huh?
You're looking a bit pale and worn. A little tired and dragged out. "Fagged out" for our friends in the Tudorian commonwealths.
Now, I know we can't be up all the time, but you're just plodding along, and have for some time now. Where's your pep? Where's your vim and vigor?
Here I've been hopping up and down making an idiot out of myself, which I don't mind at all, because it usually gets you going. But lately, you just seem so, I don't know, maybe depressed?
What is it, all the fighting and stuff? The endless drug thread? I know. That's a drag. But look, it happens sometimes, and now it's over. So what do you say we YANK your fucking HOG TIED THUMBS out of your ASSES and DRAG you down the street NAKED. Huh? How about we SET FUCKING FIRE TO YOUR HAIR? HOW ABOUT WE GIVE YOU TO RICHTER? Would You WAKE UP then?
Where's your INNER MUTANT? Jesus, (not you, get back to work) you're like those monkeys in the neutron bomb experiments. Dosed with a fatal blast of neutrons that they COULDN'T DETECT and they just turned off and waited to DIE.
WAKE UP. KICK ME. SCREAM. KILL ME.
By ECH's Fresh New Asshole On His Old Wrinkled Sailor Butt, you people have CRAWLED UNDER A ROCK. There used to be TWICE as much soul burning rantification going on, and I don't mean just in a relative amount to the background noise, I mean in an ABSOLUTE VALUE kinda way.
Oh, a FEW of you come across now and then, and the STYLE and FORM are just fine, but it's like it's an EFFORT for most of you. You're wandering around like a boring cocktail party that nobody wanted to go to. Like it's a fucking CHORE. Like when the officer and the minister showed up on your porch to tell you the BAD NEWS about Uncle Merle when he had that fatal ukelele accident that people still don't like to talk about after all these years.
I WON'T HAVE IT.
There's a whole damn UNIVERSE of EVIL SHIT out there circling around your heads, and you're BECOMING AUTISTIC. This is NOT Facebook. It's not your PERSONAL BLOG OF MISERY. It's not your POOR MAN'S KINDLE.
Oh SURE, you TALK about normals and po'buckers, but haven't you been ACTING just a little like them recently? Vacantly staring at the screen like it was a Goddamn TEEVEE!
There's too damn many of THEM out there, and too damn few of us in here. We have the edge, because they don't know what they're doing. THEY don't know that they are THEY. But we'll LOSE that edge if we don't make it WORK FOR US. EAT or BE EATEN children, EAT or BE EATEN.
Now, if this were a CHURCH, there'd be some PREACHING.
WHO will give me some PREACHING?
If this were a CHURCH, there'd be some WITLESSING.
WHO will DROP their DRAWERS for "Bob" and give me some WITLESSING?
If this were a REAL CHURCH, a HELLFIRE-BREATHING, FOOT-STOMPING, ASS-KICKING CHURCH, a SOUL-SEARING, PSYCHE-DAMAGING, INNER CHILD-WOUNDING CHURCH, there'd be some ministers MINISTERING.
WHO WILL MINISTER UNTO THE RIDGE-BROWED "HUMANS" the WORD OF OUR LADY that THEY SO BADLY NEED? WHO WILL BEAT THE LESSONS INTO THEIR BITS?
I want to SEE IT HAPPEN. I want you to MAKE ME FEEL IT.
Because if there ain't some RANTOLOGICAL CHURCHIFICATION going on here pretty soon, if there ain't some HIGH-POWERED FULL-AUTO BLEACHER-POUNDING INTERCONTINENTAL BALLISTIC RELIGION going on, well then maybe you think The Church is already dead.
And if things stay they way they are, if it isn't already, it will be.
And our legacy, the only thing the world will be able to see to know that we ever existed, will be the Facebook Discordian crowd. To historians, our message will merely be "23 pineal fnord hot dog" and some squicky anime.
Is that what you want?
Okay for now,
Dok
So, what's wrong, huh?
You're looking a bit pale and worn. A little tired and dragged out. "Fagged out" for our friends in the Tudorian commonwealths.
Now, I know we can't be up all the time, but you're just plodding along, and have for some time now. Where's your pep? Where's your vim and vigor?
Here I've been hopping up and down making an idiot out of myself, which I don't mind at all, because it usually gets you going. But lately, you just seem so, I don't know, maybe depressed?
What is it, all the fighting and stuff? The endless drug thread? I know. That's a drag. But look, it happens sometimes, and now it's over. So what do you say we YANK your fucking HOG TIED THUMBS out of your ASSES and DRAG you down the street NAKED. Huh? How about we SET FUCKING FIRE TO YOUR HAIR? HOW ABOUT WE GIVE YOU TO RICHTER? Would You WAKE UP then?
Where's your INNER MUTANT? Jesus, (not you, get back to work) you're like those monkeys in the neutron bomb experiments. Dosed with a fatal blast of neutrons that they COULDN'T DETECT and they just turned off and waited to DIE.
WAKE UP. KICK ME. SCREAM. KILL ME.
By ECH's Fresh New Asshole On His Old Wrinkled Sailor Butt, you people have CRAWLED UNDER A ROCK. There used to be TWICE as much soul burning rantification going on, and I don't mean just in a relative amount to the background noise, I mean in an ABSOLUTE VALUE kinda way.
Oh, a FEW of you come across now and then, and the STYLE and FORM are just fine, but it's like it's an EFFORT for most of you. You're wandering around like a boring cocktail party that nobody wanted to go to. Like it's a fucking CHORE. Like when the officer and the minister showed up on your porch to tell you the BAD NEWS about Uncle Merle when he had that fatal ukelele accident that people still don't like to talk about after all these years.
I WON'T HAVE IT.
There's a whole damn UNIVERSE of EVIL SHIT out there circling around your heads, and you're BECOMING AUTISTIC. This is NOT Facebook. It's not your PERSONAL BLOG OF MISERY. It's not your POOR MAN'S KINDLE.
Oh SURE, you TALK about normals and po'buckers, but haven't you been ACTING just a little like them recently? Vacantly staring at the screen like it was a Goddamn TEEVEE!
There's too damn many of THEM out there, and too damn few of us in here. We have the edge, because they don't know what they're doing. THEY don't know that they are THEY. But we'll LOSE that edge if we don't make it WORK FOR US. EAT or BE EATEN children, EAT or BE EATEN.
Now, if this were a CHURCH, there'd be some PREACHING.
WHO will give me some PREACHING?
If this were a CHURCH, there'd be some WITLESSING.
WHO will DROP their DRAWERS for "Bob" and give me some WITLESSING?
If this were a REAL CHURCH, a HELLFIRE-BREATHING, FOOT-STOMPING, ASS-KICKING CHURCH, a SOUL-SEARING, PSYCHE-DAMAGING, INNER CHILD-WOUNDING CHURCH, there'd be some ministers MINISTERING.
WHO WILL MINISTER UNTO THE RIDGE-BROWED "HUMANS" the WORD OF OUR LADY that THEY SO BADLY NEED? WHO WILL BEAT THE LESSONS INTO THEIR BITS?
I want to SEE IT HAPPEN. I want you to MAKE ME FEEL IT.
Because if there ain't some RANTOLOGICAL CHURCHIFICATION going on here pretty soon, if there ain't some HIGH-POWERED FULL-AUTO BLEACHER-POUNDING INTERCONTINENTAL BALLISTIC RELIGION going on, well then maybe you think The Church is already dead.
And if things stay they way they are, if it isn't already, it will be.
And our legacy, the only thing the world will be able to see to know that we ever existed, will be the Facebook Discordian crowd. To historians, our message will merely be "23 pineal fnord hot dog" and some squicky anime.
Is that what you want?
Okay for now,
Dok
5
Apple Zone / Keeping Your Head, and Having the Right Priorities Amid Disaster
« on: Yesterday at 02:22:19 pm »
http://www.today.com/news/okla-school-survivor-teacher-threw-herself-over-us-saved-our-6C9996716
Quote
"Everyone around lost everything, but we have our kids."
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Apple Zone / But WHY, you ask, MUST we destroy the world, Doktor Howl?
« on: Yesterday at 02:40:16 am »7
Apple Zone / TWID
« on: Yesterday at 02:01:51 am »
You will tell me more of Waffle's voyage, or I will shit in your living heart.
8
Apple Zone / Some Rather Sad News
« on: May 20, 2013, 09:42:50 pm »
It is my sad duty to inform you that The Good Reverend Roger is dead again. It seems he went down to Omar's Highway Chef at the Triple T truckstop for one of his nauseating salads, when a piss jug hurled from a semi up on the highway struck his head, killing him instantly. Judging from the sheer amount of trauma, he'll likely be dead for months.
I rather suspect it was deliberately arranged, as the chances of being struck by a piss jug that far from the highway are slim at best. Either ECH did him in over the rights to the Chef Diesel character, or he arranged it himself, so that I would have to finish LOBB for him.
Be that as it may, the idea of a Holy Man™ being struck down in such odd circumstances - arranged or not - indicates that religion isn't the way to salvation after all. No, this is a shiny new century, and we must look to SCIENCE for the solutions to our problems. Also, Tucson has been getting a little too quiet these days, and it is well past time that this changed. Had Alty made it down this July, The Good Reverend might have pulled it off; however, given Alty's current penury, I suppose that it is up to me.
So, the question is, "what now"? Well, I'm here to tell you. Now we begin experiments, the subjects of which are the gaping fools and witless primates that surround us all. There will be laughs to spare, even if those laughs are the wrong ones. There will be hilarity, a jovial leer for all those who cross our paths.
So break out the lab coats and surgical smocks. Don your glacier glasses. Hook up the electrodes where they give you the biggest kick...The times are too grim for anything less. When the great scorer1 writes down our tally, let it not be said that we wimped out just when things were getting funny.
And when all your preparations have been made, when you've got the leather straps and brass buckles poking you in all the right ways, let's sit down and plan a little fun. Because you have to have a laugh, right?
Okay For Now,
Dok
1 Neil DeGrasse Tyson, of course. Who did you think I meant?
I rather suspect it was deliberately arranged, as the chances of being struck by a piss jug that far from the highway are slim at best. Either ECH did him in over the rights to the Chef Diesel character, or he arranged it himself, so that I would have to finish LOBB for him.
Be that as it may, the idea of a Holy Man™ being struck down in such odd circumstances - arranged or not - indicates that religion isn't the way to salvation after all. No, this is a shiny new century, and we must look to SCIENCE for the solutions to our problems. Also, Tucson has been getting a little too quiet these days, and it is well past time that this changed. Had Alty made it down this July, The Good Reverend might have pulled it off; however, given Alty's current penury, I suppose that it is up to me.
So, the question is, "what now"? Well, I'm here to tell you. Now we begin experiments, the subjects of which are the gaping fools and witless primates that surround us all. There will be laughs to spare, even if those laughs are the wrong ones. There will be hilarity, a jovial leer for all those who cross our paths.
So break out the lab coats and surgical smocks. Don your glacier glasses. Hook up the electrodes where they give you the biggest kick...The times are too grim for anything less. When the great scorer1 writes down our tally, let it not be said that we wimped out just when things were getting funny.
And when all your preparations have been made, when you've got the leather straps and brass buckles poking you in all the right ways, let's sit down and plan a little fun. Because you have to have a laugh, right?
Okay For Now,
Dok
1 Neil DeGrasse Tyson, of course. Who did you think I meant?
9
Horrorology / Wrecked Time in Fat City, part I
« on: April 26, 2013, 07:42:00 pm »
Good day, my little love carbuncles of internet desire. It is I, Doktor Howl, standing in for The Good Reverend Roger, who has yet again lost his shit in various embarrassing ways. The world, you see, has grown far to amusing to be explained by religion, and once again requires SCIENCE. And I know, as you know, that the world screams to have SCIENCE done to it. In every orifice.
So here we are. Just you and me and 7.3 billion humans, all alone together. I don’t like the humans, and you don’t like the humans. But you can’t really run away from what you are, because the legs you are running with are part of what you’re trying to flee.
So, anyway, on to business. While I’ve been dead, I’ve done a lot more thinking about communication. I have come up with some conclusions that seem to be almost universal, at least with respect to the United States. Results may vary in other lands. First, some definitions/de-coded statements and words:
“But” --> Ignore every word that preceded this one.
“I understand” --> I didn’t listen to a single word you said.
“I feel your pain” --> Go spread your tale of woe elsewhere.
“I have some issues with that” --> I am butthurt and I’m done listening.
There’s more, but you get the idea. Language not used to directly convey information can be assumed to mean the exact opposite of what it seems to say. Contrast it with the following:
“This fucking thing is broken” --> This fucking thing is broken.
“I love you” --> I love you.
“We had to let Harry go this week” --> Harry doesn’t work here anymore.
Notice that the difference is that the first set of statements didn’t actually convey information, and the second set did. We can form a hypothesis here, and that is that humans will give you factual information and package it in factual statements. Humans will also feed you bullshit, and will package it in words that don’t actually say anything, but sound as if they do.
All jargon, I think, is based on this principle. Jargon is widely taken to mean “language used by specific specialists, for the purpose of communicating within their specialty”. The fact is, though, that what jargon actually means is “language which is used to define who is an insider and who is The Other.” This is why jargon changes once the general population learns what it means…Thus disproving the commonly held concept of what “jargon” means.
More on this later.
Okay for now,
Dok
So here we are. Just you and me and 7.3 billion humans, all alone together. I don’t like the humans, and you don’t like the humans. But you can’t really run away from what you are, because the legs you are running with are part of what you’re trying to flee.
So, anyway, on to business. While I’ve been dead, I’ve done a lot more thinking about communication. I have come up with some conclusions that seem to be almost universal, at least with respect to the United States. Results may vary in other lands. First, some definitions/de-coded statements and words:
“But” --> Ignore every word that preceded this one.
“I understand” --> I didn’t listen to a single word you said.
“I feel your pain” --> Go spread your tale of woe elsewhere.
“I have some issues with that” --> I am butthurt and I’m done listening.
There’s more, but you get the idea. Language not used to directly convey information can be assumed to mean the exact opposite of what it seems to say. Contrast it with the following:
“This fucking thing is broken” --> This fucking thing is broken.
“I love you” --> I love you.
“We had to let Harry go this week” --> Harry doesn’t work here anymore.
Notice that the difference is that the first set of statements didn’t actually convey information, and the second set did. We can form a hypothesis here, and that is that humans will give you factual information and package it in factual statements. Humans will also feed you bullshit, and will package it in words that don’t actually say anything, but sound as if they do.
All jargon, I think, is based on this principle. Jargon is widely taken to mean “language used by specific specialists, for the purpose of communicating within their specialty”. The fact is, though, that what jargon actually means is “language which is used to define who is an insider and who is The Other.” This is why jargon changes once the general population learns what it means…Thus disproving the commonly held concept of what “jargon” means.
Okay for now,
Dok
10
Apple Zone / What You Deserve
« on: May 29, 2012, 05:39:12 pm »
You DESERVE an SUV or a Lexus or a NEW COMPUTER. You DESERVE easy credit. And you NEED these things, because you're a SPECIAL FLOWER, and how will people know you're special, if your car doesn't take up two spaces when you park straight?
You deserve new low prices for our new low quality goods. You deserve a 20% return on your investments AND a good job market. You deserve to have your religious beliefs validated by legislation. You deserve an illegal-free nation AND low, low food prices.
You deserve to be heard. Not just the right to speak, but the right to have other people LISTEN to what you have to say, while you sit on your scooter and hold up your badly-spelled sign that lets everyone know just where you stand (well, sit).
Yes, you deserve all of this and more.
For example, you deserve to have the universe plod up and explain to you - once more - that you can't have things both ways. You deserve to be "corrected" in the true "market" sense of the word. You deserve an education in the fact that reality doesn't care what you think you deserve. You deserve to be shown that the moon is not Stilton; that it is in fact not cheese at all.
In fact, you deserve everything you've demanded.
I hope you get it.
Okay for now,
Doktor Howl
You deserve new low prices for our new low quality goods. You deserve a 20% return on your investments AND a good job market. You deserve to have your religious beliefs validated by legislation. You deserve an illegal-free nation AND low, low food prices.
You deserve to be heard. Not just the right to speak, but the right to have other people LISTEN to what you have to say, while you sit on your scooter and hold up your badly-spelled sign that lets everyone know just where you stand (well, sit).
Yes, you deserve all of this and more.
For example, you deserve to have the universe plod up and explain to you - once more - that you can't have things both ways. You deserve to be "corrected" in the true "market" sense of the word. You deserve an education in the fact that reality doesn't care what you think you deserve. You deserve to be shown that the moon is not Stilton; that it is in fact not cheese at all.
In fact, you deserve everything you've demanded.
I hope you get it.
Okay for now,
Doktor Howl
11
Apple Zone / The Secret Histories.
« on: May 25, 2012, 01:45:44 pm »
Part 1
“Are you sure about this, Mr President?”
“Absolutely certain, I am afraid.”, Lincoln replied to Vice President Johnson, “Our victory is at hand, but the South will never come to terms with it if I am president. Yet to resign would be a sign of weakness that would inspire them to perhaps try again. No, I am convinced that the only way forward is for me to be assassinated. Or at least for things to appear that way. Please make the arrangements as I have requested.”
Johnson left the oval office in a mood. It wasn’t going to work. No matter where Lincoln went, someone would recognize his, um, unique appearance. Let’s face facts…The man is ugly, in a manner that had precluded the usual “doubles” used for security.
But there was a way out.
The next morning, he met with the actor, Mr John Wilkes Booth. Booth was perfect for the part, having spent the last 2 years developing a reputation as pro-Southern.
“We’re going to go ahead with it. You realize that you’re going to have to disappear from the American continent when it’s done, right?”
“With what you’re paying me, I imagine I can find a way to drown my sorrows, Mr Vice President.”
“Very well. Here is your payment.” Johnson pushed a very heavy valaise under the table to Booth. “The guards have been instructed to let you get away, and one will hand you a pistol loaded with powder but no ball, once you’re inside the theater.”
“Sounds good. I’ll…I guess I won’t see you again.”
“No, that will most unfortunately never be possible, sir. Enjoy your new life.”
Johnson watched Booth leave the theater. Poor man, he had listened to Lincoln’s plan from Lincoln himself, and quite correctly believed that Lincoln was on the level. Unfortunately, the plan had been altered.
He turned to his guard, and said, “You know what to do.”
The guard gave Johnson a rather disgusted look. “Yes sir. I hand him a loaded pistol, and we lay in wait for him at the barn, afterwards.”
Johnson accepted the guard’s disgust; The price of history was sometimes steep. The South would be made to pay for “their” treachery. Lincoln had been too soft-hearted about reunification. The South had to understand that their secession would not be easily forgotten or forgiven. And given the 600,000 or so dead men, what was one more? And Lincoln, well, he'd never know what hit him.
“Are you sure about this, Mr President?”
“Absolutely certain, I am afraid.”, Lincoln replied to Vice President Johnson, “Our victory is at hand, but the South will never come to terms with it if I am president. Yet to resign would be a sign of weakness that would inspire them to perhaps try again. No, I am convinced that the only way forward is for me to be assassinated. Or at least for things to appear that way. Please make the arrangements as I have requested.”
Johnson left the oval office in a mood. It wasn’t going to work. No matter where Lincoln went, someone would recognize his, um, unique appearance. Let’s face facts…The man is ugly, in a manner that had precluded the usual “doubles” used for security.
But there was a way out.
The next morning, he met with the actor, Mr John Wilkes Booth. Booth was perfect for the part, having spent the last 2 years developing a reputation as pro-Southern.
“We’re going to go ahead with it. You realize that you’re going to have to disappear from the American continent when it’s done, right?”
“With what you’re paying me, I imagine I can find a way to drown my sorrows, Mr Vice President.”
“Very well. Here is your payment.” Johnson pushed a very heavy valaise under the table to Booth. “The guards have been instructed to let you get away, and one will hand you a pistol loaded with powder but no ball, once you’re inside the theater.”
“Sounds good. I’ll…I guess I won’t see you again.”
“No, that will most unfortunately never be possible, sir. Enjoy your new life.”
Johnson watched Booth leave the theater. Poor man, he had listened to Lincoln’s plan from Lincoln himself, and quite correctly believed that Lincoln was on the level. Unfortunately, the plan had been altered.
He turned to his guard, and said, “You know what to do.”
The guard gave Johnson a rather disgusted look. “Yes sir. I hand him a loaded pistol, and we lay in wait for him at the barn, afterwards.”
Johnson accepted the guard’s disgust; The price of history was sometimes steep. The South would be made to pay for “their” treachery. Lincoln had been too soft-hearted about reunification. The South had to understand that their secession would not be easily forgotten or forgiven. And given the 600,000 or so dead men, what was one more? And Lincoln, well, he'd never know what hit him.
15
Aneristic Illusions / As an aside...
« on: May 15, 2012, 07:49:30 pm »
Michelle Bachmann is taking Swiss citizenship, to evade her tax burden.
BETTER YOU THAN US, YOU GODDAMN CHOCOLATE-HUFFING LAPLANDERS!
BETTER YOU THAN US, YOU GODDAMN CHOCOLATE-HUFFING LAPLANDERS!