22351
Literate Chaotic / ITT we try to decode...
« on: May 24, 2006, 05:47:55 pm »
Why would that worry me?
News:
We've got artists, scientists, scholars, pranksters, publishers, songwriters, and political activists. We've subjected Discordia to scrutiny, torn it apart, and put it back together. We've written songs about it, we've got a stack of essays, and, to refer back to your quote above, we criticize the hell out of each other.
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22352
Literate Chaotic / ITT we try to decode...
« on: May 24, 2006, 05:43:41 pm »
On that evidence, I claim the Priory of Sion part of the Discordian Conspiracy and demand they let us into their special member only parties.
22353
Literate Chaotic / ITT we try to decode...
« on: May 24, 2006, 05:20:05 pm »
Whats the Kabbalistic significance of 681? I'm told it should be of some interest.
22354
Literate Chaotic / ITT we try to decode...
« on: May 24, 2006, 05:15:37 pm »
The meaning of this famous saying:
TO DAGOBERT II. KING, AND TO SION BELONGS THIS TREASURE AND HE IS THERE DEAD..SHEPHERDESS, NO TEMPTATION, THAT POUSSIN, TENIERS, HOLD THE KEY, PEACE 681. BY THE CROSS AND THIS HORSE OF GOD I COMPLETE-OR DESTROY-THIS DAEMON GUARDIAN AT NOON. BLUE APPLES.
GO!
(yes, I'm looking at YOU, S.S.O.O.K.N people).
TO DAGOBERT II. KING, AND TO SION BELONGS THIS TREASURE AND HE IS THERE DEAD..SHEPHERDESS, NO TEMPTATION, THAT POUSSIN, TENIERS, HOLD THE KEY, PEACE 681. BY THE CROSS AND THIS HORSE OF GOD I COMPLETE-OR DESTROY-THIS DAEMON GUARDIAN AT NOON. BLUE APPLES.
GO!
(yes, I'm looking at YOU, S.S.O.O.K.N people).
22356
Literate Chaotic / Rewriting the City
« on: May 23, 2006, 11:49:24 pm »
I was still buzzing from the successful break-in of the...whatever it was I had broken into. Research Institute, I suppose. Anyway, I wasn't quite sleepy yet, and being happy with my current progress, I decided to grab a drink. At this time, it would only be dives that were open, but that was OK. A couple of scotchs, somewhere to sit and some music would do me fine. If I was to head north, then skirt around the East Quadrant, then I could cut 15 minutes off...
I was 10 minutes into my walk when I saw some shadows in the distance. In the otherworldly lighting of the streets and the greyness of the night, their black clothing stood out. Most people thought black didn't show up in the dark, but they were wrong. There is always ambient light of some sort, not to mention the synthetic blackness of clothing is too dark, to refined and so picked up by the eyes. I made a shrugging movement as they came closer, causing the garrote to slip into my palm, as my other hand held the gun in my coat pocket. Nothing wrong with being safe, after all.
“What are you doing out at this hour?” a martial voice demanded. My grip on the pistol, if anything, tightened. Either cops or those bastard mercs who pretend to be them. I looked to the one who had spoken, a man in his mid-40s in a black “uniform”, gun slung over his shoulder and a pistol on his waist.
“None of your damn business, rent-a-cop” I replied, irritable at this interruption. “Its been a long day and I want to go to bar. I know thats not a crime, so get the hell out of my way.” I started to step forward as a younger blond man grabbed me by the shoulder and slammed me into the wall.
He spun me around and said “its been a crime since curfew was declared by the Governor this morning, you cocky Limey bastard. Because some raghead terrorist whacked Congressman Keating last night!”
Curfew? There hasn't been a curfew in years, not since the Corporation held the majority stock in Government Inc, at least. They interfered with business, for starters. The assassination was not good news either. Not that I knew who the politician was, but that wasn't the point. The younger man stood back, grinning at my obvious discomfort at this news. I decided to put my hands up, slowly. “OK, we know how this goes,” I said slowly. “I'm unarmed and outnumbered and have just had a nasty shock. So you don't give me time to recover. You throw me off balance, arrest me and process me for the fine in the morning. You make it quick and simple and above all you don't stand so close so I can grab your trigger arm like this, and twist it like this until it nearly breaks and grab your machine pistol and put it to your head like this.” I straightened up, pushing the barrel harder into the blond man's temple.
“You may want to put your weapons down gentlemen, nice and carefully. I get nervous if people move fast around me. Good, and your knives and CS spray too. I'm not stupid, you know. Good, now up this street, yeah, up here. Right, now me and my new bestest buddy here are going to over to this nice dark alleyway here. By the time you get your weapons, and I really suggest you have a weapon if you intend to follow me, I'll be far away from here. Any questions? Excellent."
I kicked the back of the knee out of the mercenary in my grasp, clubbed his head with the pistol, then ran up the alleyway. I then zig-zagged through several more until I was a good distance away. Fortunately, this bought me further away from the Eastern Quadrant and its overzealous attack dogs and closer to alcoholic bliss. Sure, it was false Slack. But it would do, for now.
This assassination though, that was troubling news. Was it the fault of the man I was after? And who are his backers, his employers, if so? This was becoming dangerously complicated. Vasily would pay for it, if that happened to be the case in the near future. Yes, there was more than one way to skin a cat, especially if casual cruelty was your thing. Once the mark was in my hands, I held all the cards. Hell, if I found out the employers names, I could double or triple my price, no problem. I may even give LMNO a cut, for his putting me on this case.
Of course, this was all academic, not to mention the fatigue talking. The show had hardly even begun yet...
I was 10 minutes into my walk when I saw some shadows in the distance. In the otherworldly lighting of the streets and the greyness of the night, their black clothing stood out. Most people thought black didn't show up in the dark, but they were wrong. There is always ambient light of some sort, not to mention the synthetic blackness of clothing is too dark, to refined and so picked up by the eyes. I made a shrugging movement as they came closer, causing the garrote to slip into my palm, as my other hand held the gun in my coat pocket. Nothing wrong with being safe, after all.
“What are you doing out at this hour?” a martial voice demanded. My grip on the pistol, if anything, tightened. Either cops or those bastard mercs who pretend to be them. I looked to the one who had spoken, a man in his mid-40s in a black “uniform”, gun slung over his shoulder and a pistol on his waist.
“None of your damn business, rent-a-cop” I replied, irritable at this interruption. “Its been a long day and I want to go to bar. I know thats not a crime, so get the hell out of my way.” I started to step forward as a younger blond man grabbed me by the shoulder and slammed me into the wall.
He spun me around and said “its been a crime since curfew was declared by the Governor this morning, you cocky Limey bastard. Because some raghead terrorist whacked Congressman Keating last night!”
Curfew? There hasn't been a curfew in years, not since the Corporation held the majority stock in Government Inc, at least. They interfered with business, for starters. The assassination was not good news either. Not that I knew who the politician was, but that wasn't the point. The younger man stood back, grinning at my obvious discomfort at this news. I decided to put my hands up, slowly. “OK, we know how this goes,” I said slowly. “I'm unarmed and outnumbered and have just had a nasty shock. So you don't give me time to recover. You throw me off balance, arrest me and process me for the fine in the morning. You make it quick and simple and above all you don't stand so close so I can grab your trigger arm like this, and twist it like this until it nearly breaks and grab your machine pistol and put it to your head like this.” I straightened up, pushing the barrel harder into the blond man's temple.
“You may want to put your weapons down gentlemen, nice and carefully. I get nervous if people move fast around me. Good, and your knives and CS spray too. I'm not stupid, you know. Good, now up this street, yeah, up here. Right, now me and my new bestest buddy here are going to over to this nice dark alleyway here. By the time you get your weapons, and I really suggest you have a weapon if you intend to follow me, I'll be far away from here. Any questions? Excellent."
I kicked the back of the knee out of the mercenary in my grasp, clubbed his head with the pistol, then ran up the alleyway. I then zig-zagged through several more until I was a good distance away. Fortunately, this bought me further away from the Eastern Quadrant and its overzealous attack dogs and closer to alcoholic bliss. Sure, it was false Slack. But it would do, for now.
This assassination though, that was troubling news. Was it the fault of the man I was after? And who are his backers, his employers, if so? This was becoming dangerously complicated. Vasily would pay for it, if that happened to be the case in the near future. Yes, there was more than one way to skin a cat, especially if casual cruelty was your thing. Once the mark was in my hands, I held all the cards. Hell, if I found out the employers names, I could double or triple my price, no problem. I may even give LMNO a cut, for his putting me on this case.
Of course, this was all academic, not to mention the fatigue talking. The show had hardly even begun yet...
22357
Apple Zone / I like boobs
« on: May 23, 2006, 10:59:45 pm »
Last year, I finished a week earlier. Oh well.
22359
Or Kill Me / For Discordian Alchoholics
« on: May 23, 2006, 12:44:22 pm »
Works for me.
Cain
not only builds his own crutches, but purposely destroys others and lends his out.
Cain
not only builds his own crutches, but purposely destroys others and lends his out.
22360
Or Kill Me / For Discordian Alchoholics
« on: May 23, 2006, 12:37:26 pm »
I think LMNO hit the nail on the head. All I'll add is should you want a copy of Prometheus Rising, I have a pdf I will gladly email. I do agree many of these sort of places have an unhealthy attitude (in my opinion) towards recovery, as they replace it with a belief system while at the same time helping you. Your brain automatically links the two together, when often there is little correlation.
22362
Apple Zone / I like boobs
« on: May 23, 2006, 08:47:13 am »Quote from: Machine Grind Dream
Quote from: Cain
HAAAA!
bandwidth
Also, if you go to college your life expectancy supposedly increases.
Thats a filthy lie. If anything, the stress, alcohol and waking up in the beds of people you really shouldnt will kill you much, much sooner.
22364
Apple Zone / I like boobs
« on: May 22, 2006, 10:03:29 pm »
About 4-6 years higher than yours.
22365
Apple Zone / I like boobs
« on: May 22, 2006, 09:58:51 pm »
We've got universal medical healthcare and a decent life expectency, you dont.