I hope she gets diverticulitis and all her poop kills her.
Started by The Good Reverend Roger, February 01, 2010, 04:43:04 PM
Quote from: dimoThe Jar Was EmptyBy Dimo, TTLCThey set you up, you know. The Big Man in Charge, he couldn't cut it, so he made you a scapegoat. Sure, it was presented as a gift, but who gives gifts like this without an ulterior motive? "Don't press the shiny, alluring red button, Lil' miss." Yeah, we all know how that always ends up. Yes, they set you up, threw you right under the bus. Someone needed to take the fall, and you better believe it wasn't going to be the Big Man in Charge. He needed to stick around. Who else was qualified for the continuous distribution of Hellfire and Damnation? I mean really qualified. So you pressed the big red button. You opened the jar. Now, they say you released these terrible things to plague humanity. They took advantage of your natural inquisitiveness, made not only a scape goat of Woman, but of all of us that share that same natural curiosity. "What makes this work?" "Why does this happen?" Don't ask now. The Big Man in Charge won't answer. Not only does he not want you to know, but he's not all that sure himself.There's good news to be had here, however. I'll let you in on a little secret. The jar was empty.Those terrible, terrible plagues that you, supposedly, let loose on mankind were already there. They were never in the jar in the first place. They just wanted you to believe that, so you would take responsibility for what they have done.No, the jar was empty. (except for maybe a couple of those springy snake things that hide in a can of peanuts on occasion). Completely empty. Not only were all those baddies not in there, but hope itself was absent as well. Don't worry, though. Hope was never what The Big Man in Charge chalked it up to be. Hope is what keeps people from actually doing something about it. "I hope, someday, to achieve" can now change to "I will achieve." "We must keep hope alive for a better future" changes to "We can create a better future." Hope is a nice, warm pillow that can only help you while you're lying down and defensless. But it's OK now, because now we know that the jar was empty.
Quote from: dimoWhen I was young, chronologically speaking, I used to consider myself a catholic. My parents were catholics, as was most of the rest of my family (not to mention that those of my family that were not catholics were talked about unfavoably while they weren't around) and, so far as I knew, so was the rest of the world. It seemed to make sense. At the time. However, fact and history painted a much different picture, so, as far as I could deduce, there was only one logical step to take. And, while I still had things similar to faith and spirituality within me, I left the church.For a time, I considered myself a punker, and by extention, a musician, a real rebel's rebel. Over time, I started more than a few bands, and proceeded to turn my school into a zoo of howling lunatics. While punk asked a lot of questions, it offered little in the way of answers. Punk, itself, is paradoxical, it exists through non-existence, and furthermore, was treated as a pop-culture fashion, and was stripped of most, if not all, validity. So, while I may retain a rebellious streak and play in a punk-style band, I left the scene.For another moment in time, I considered myself smart. Could you blame me with so many cabbages walking about disguised as people? It's an easy thing to do when you deny that there are some truly intelligent people on this planet, which I did. But, considering myself smart, I had no other options but to recognize and accept my own sheer average-ness. Now, still concerned with seeking knowledge, I left that false comfort behind. At other times, I had considered myself either "single" or "taken," choosing to be either in a relationship or not. Only to come to realize that I am not alone, and I do not belong to anyone. So, while I cherish and enjoy the relationships I have with friends, I could no longer be bothered by the "status" of said relationships.Just recently, I considered myself a Discordian. A "really real" Discordian. The humor, the subversivity, the pseudo-religious attributes harmonized with many things from my past. It got me off of my ass and taught me how to be active in what I beleive. It taught me that new ideas and technology were not things to be shunned. But, just like my first delusion, if it's taken too seriously, it starts to become things that it was never intended to be. So, while I still love a good posterGASM, (un)friendly debate and the introduction of new ideas, I cannot truly say that that is what I am, the whole of my being.So, here I am, emptying my head. And it could be said that I'm not really, fully, anything anymore.And I like it.
QuoteThe Iconoclast's Manifesto We reserve the right to hold heretical viewpoints that you find abominable. We hold true that anyone who feels justified in attacking an individual because they have an unpopular opinion can fuck off and die. We identify ourselves by our willingness to challenge the accepted dogma, theory, doctrine, or paradigm regardless of the consequences to our social status. We acknowledge that the positions we take may result in our being subjected to more intolerance than conventional wisdom would suggest is wise, but we find ourselves refuting conventional wisdom remarkably often. While we generally try to take positions that are based on reasoned arguments, empirical evidence, historical precedents, or any combination thereof, we reserve the right to play devil's advocate just to piss you off and destroy any notion you might have that your ideas are universally applicable. We acknowledge that the original use of the term iconoclast specifically refers to the destruction of religious icons, but we may choose to attack cherished beliefs relating to anything, including but not limited to politics, art, religion, philosophy, and identity. We reserve the right to change or violate the terms of this manifesto as the individual iconoclast deems fit. We reserve rights, period.
Quote from: http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=17054.msg556425#msg556425BIP in unrhymed verseDo you know where you are?These four walls, this ceiling, this floor?This is your life. This is your cell.Welcome to your Black Iron Prison.Don't panic, you're not here to be punished.You were born here.This is your cell. This is your life. This is all you know.Beneath you, you can see the floor made by your parents and teachers.To your left and right, society, media, and your peers make two walls.Above you, there is a ceiling just barely too high to touch: these are your dreams.Behind you, the darkest shadows are cast on the third wall, the wall made by your fears.The light shines through the bars in front of you, through the fourth wall.But this wall is not a wall. The bars are different, somehow.These six sides hold you in, safe within a tiny cell of truth.Take hold of the bars; feel the cold, Black Iron.What are these bars? Why are they different from the other five sides?You made these bars.The light shines through them, but still they hold you in as surely as a solid wall.They are your beliefs, your thoughts, your identity.Every time you tell yourself, "I am this, I am that, I am not these other things," you createanother bar.The stronger your beliefs, the stronger the bars become.You can break some of those bars, if you choose.If you are not afraid.Or you can build more bars, making them thicker and closer together.It doesn't matter which beliefs make the bars; they all block the light.
Quote from: Cainad on October 31, 2009, 12:59:45 AMMissing: One Child Prophet and a Wise TigerYou know who I miss the most? Calvin. I grew up with Calvin; he was always six years old but he was always older than me. He was a child sage, and I didn't always understand him but we had lots of fun together, Calvin, Hobbes, and I. He knew from the very beginning that school was there to beat his mind into shape, and he rebelled not only by outright refusal to be contained, but by shaping parts of his mind before those parts could be squeezed into public school molds. He knew, like all children know, what it means to have a good time, but he knew it consciously at such a young age. What's more, he laughed in the face of anyone who tried to tell him differently, right before dropping a water balloon on their head. Calvin knew the TV was there to satisfy the sweet tooth of the mind, and he let it work its glittering magic on him every once in a while, but it never really got to him. Partly, this was because he knew what exactly it was doing, and partly because of Hobbes.I miss Hobbes too. Hobbes knew what fun was just as well as Calvin did; sometimes he knew it better. He was a voice of reason, but never too much reason. Just enough to keep Calvin from riding that wagon over too high of a cliff, just enough to make sure that chucking water balloons and snowballs was always more fun than the TV. Hobbes was there to put a jolt of Life back into Calvin's existence at the end of the daily public school slog.But Calvin's gone now. I don't know where he went or what he does now, but I think he may have grown up. He probably didn't mean for it to happen; it probably snuck up on him when he wasn't looking. Once he grew up, he stopped really being Calvin, you know? And the worst part is, growing up was the only thing Hobbes couldn't save him from. Without the real Calvin, Hobbes is just a stuffed tiger, and without the real Hobbes, Calvin can't be the real Calvin we all knew. It took both of them to survive in this world, and if we had them here today they'd know how to deal with the ever-growing weirdness and sickness of our society and they'd show us all how it's done.But one cannot exist without the other, and now they're both gone. Maybe if we could find them they'd tell us how to find Curly.I sure do miss them.
Quote from: Cainad on November 08, 2009, 08:09:03 PMThe Worms and Their Little Blue PillsThere are worms in my brain. I don't know when exactly they got in there, but they've been there for quite some time now. My thoughts flow through the tunnels the worms have burrowed through my gray matter, and they themselves sometimes carry my thoughts around. But these worms are not very efficient for my purposes, partly because they squirm around randomly and partly because they have no goal in mind towards which to work efficiently.Of course they have nothing in mind, they're worms, damn it! They are what's in my mind; pay attention to the metaphor!Anyway, the workings of the worms are not conducive to getting things done. Trying to direct them so that my thoughts flow smoothly and directly towards a certain goal is like, well, it's like trying to herd a bunch of damn worms. They don't pay attention to anything but wriggling and burrowing. But that's what the pills are for, these little blue pills.The pills do something I've never been able to do: they force the worms to line up in neat little rows and march in time to the tune of whatever goals I set. How worms can be made to march without feet I don't know, but they're marching all right. In spit-shined jackboots, no less. With the pills controlling the worms, I become a machine. A powerful, efficient machine that runs smoothly as a dream on lubricated bearings. The pounding march of the worms makes sure the trains of my thought all run on time, and the jackboots stamp out errant or unwanted thoughts with hardly a sound. For a few hours, everything runs better than ever before, better than it should. For a few hours, I am effective. Then the pills wear off.When the pills start to wear off, I can't keep the worms in line anymore. But the damning thing is that they keep on marching around in jackboots. With no more rhyme or reason guiding them they stomp all around my brain, trampling everything and my trains of thought go flying off the tracks. I become the machine with half of its bearings taken out, rattling and screeching, performing its tasks with grinding, noisy hesitancy. Everything inside and outside my head becomes a disordered mess and I know that at any moment I might truly begin to laugh and laugh and laugh until I realize I'm screaming.Finally, the jackbooted feet the worms never had in the first place wear off and they go back to wriggling and burrowing. I am no longer the machine, and I can rest until I need to be effective again.
Quote from: Pippa Twiddleton on December 22, 2012, 01:06:36 AMEoC, you are the bane of my existence.
Quote from: The Good Reverend Roger on March 07, 2014, 01:18:23 AMEoC doesn't make creepy.EoC makes creepy worse.
Quotethe afflicted persons get hold of and consume carrots even in socially quite unacceptable situations.
Quote from: Rumckle on October 27, 2009, 01:00:29 AMYou need to get a good job. You need a good job so you can afford that new TV. The one with the 150" screen, and the surround sound that will make your ears bleed. You need that TV so you can forget how shit your job is. And your job is shit, but you can't quit it, otherwise they might repossess your TV. Then what will distract you from how shit your job is?I wish I was immune to this cycle but, alas, I am not. Last time I checked I was about ten grand in debt. I've never owned a credit card, never got a mortgage, never bought a car, but I'm still in debt.Why? Well, I'd like to think it was because I am learning all of this neat stuff, and I am, but that's not the reason. If I just wanted to learn something I could do it for free. No, the reason I am in debt is to get a little piece of paper. A special piece of paper which says that I get to earn a slightly better wage. So I can get a slightly bigger TV, and go somewhere slightly further away on my annual two week vacation.But once you have that nice piece of paper, and a good job, it''s not over, there are still things to learn. For example, you need to learn to like the taste of arse, because you are going to be kissing a lot of it. You need to kiss arse because if you kiss arse you will get a promotion. And if you get a promotion you can buy an even bigger TV. You'll need that bigger TV to relieve the stress of having to get a promotion.But that's not all you get, promotions bring other benefits too. If you get a promotion you may get to move up a floor, and you definitely want to move up a floor. Not because the views are nicer (though that is what they will tell you) but because a higher floor means you are further from the ground. It means you have further to fall when you are tired of your job and want to retire.SPLAT!
Quote from: Eater of Clowns on May 22, 2015, 03:00:53 AMAnyone ever think about how Richter inhabits the same reality as you and just scream and scream and scream, but in a good way?
Quote from: Cramulus on April 16, 2010, 04:53:13 AMFrom the Om Nom NomiconI. The Spagan Text Hearken, and Remember! In the Name of ST. GULIK, Remember! In the Name of CASH MONEY, Remember! In the Name of RICHARD NIXON, Remember! When on High the Heavens had not been named, The Earth had not been named, And Naught existed but the Seas of FAIL, The Original Gangsta, And FAT BLACK WOMAN, the Original Gangsta Who bore them all,