Rant 54: Loose Nuts

[Irreverend Hugh, KSC]

Rant 54
Loose Nuts

,ÄúWe walked unto the edge of the land and found the squirrel not. But upon a wall was written ,ÄúWhy are you reading this?,Äù in large red painted letters. The profundity hit us harder than the tequila. It was then that we decided to write down these irreligious scriptures.
-from the Book of the Tequila M??stica Cabal

,ÄúThou shalt not make unto thee any graven neighbor.,Äù
-the 2nd Commandment of Discordia (from the Apocrypha Discordia)

,Äú[Discordianism is] a shadowy, formless anarchoterrorist cult,Ķa cancer which has spread widely all over the Information Superhighway,Ķits tentacles reach everywhere.,Äù
-Concerned Citizens for a Safe Internet (from the AD)

,ÄúRe,Äôth kijyewgh hwi! My ny vynnav kows Sowsnek. Res yw dhywgh kews Kernewek dhymm, a-barth an Jowl a gyj!,Äù [,ÄúGo fuck yourself! I will not speak English. You,Äôll have to speak Cornish to me, by the fucking Devil!,Äù]
-Tequilarius Malignatus (demonstrating the vitality of the Cornish Revival to an innocent bystander during a Celtic festival)

,ÄúFirst there is Hodge. Then there is Podge. Then there isn,Äôt.,Äù
-Mao Tsu

The pot holes on the highways are caused by the endless flux of chaos eating away at the gray constrictions in the minds of the drivers. The broken stoplights of the city streets are visual clarion calls that mimic your often-ignored intuition. Every time your cell-phone drops its signal, pause and reflect upon Eris. Every time your toilet floods or your urinal  explodes, pause and reflect upon Her messengers and Her messages. Somewhere unbeknownst to certain unmentioned persons, pennies are being slipped into their gas tanks. Somewhere unbeknownst to certain targets of jakery, ancient-looking authentically fabricated hidden Gnostic texts are being sent to them. Somewhere amidst certain cities of millions, certain shadowy Erisian druid-like mages are mucking about with the normal,Ñ¢ weather patterns, changing them to fancy Eris and Her Children. Somewhere, in various yahoo-besieged areas, perfectly duplicated police siren devices are going off randomly during the wee hours of the dark morning. Certain Freemasons are becoming utterly confused and angry due to an assumed Discordian infiltration of their organization which has spread their system of secret handshakes to the general population at large. Stuffed pink bunnies are being placed in the toilets of bars and clubs throughout urban America. Flyers of cut-up experiments with famous biblical texts are being pasted up on light-poles. Kitchen appliances are in rebellion in various people,Äôs homes across the nation. The Hodge and the Podge are seeking balance, and we are making damned sure it fucking well gets it. [Hail Eris! Even as I write this down this afternoon, there is thunder and the sky is black. Doesn,Äôt that last peal of thunder rolling make this feel important? Kallisti! Another peal!] Corporate logo-sigils have been minutely tampered with and the new occult thought-forms are running amok gaining power and experience. Urban gang graffiti has been duly copied and cut-up with the new ensigilized street magic winding its way slowly around the necks of the gray. (Wouldn,Äôt William Burroughs be proud? Who cares? Eris likes it and that,Äôs fantasticallacious enough for us.)

I,Äôm burning the red candles for Chang??,Äîthe mighty Santa Barbara who strikes down the opposition with lightning and fire,Ķthe inner and outer fire that burns ever presently inside the furthest darkened reaches of our souls calling up our suppressed desires which never stay buried for long,Äîproud warrior king who never fails to protect and bring justice. Chang?? is not One to be messed about with. And He happens to like apples, BTW. (But enough about Chang?? as He doesn,Äôt like being discussed too much, in my experience.)

Hail Eris! Praise Bob,Äîwho happens to be Eris,Äôs alleged brother. (That would explain a lot about the pipe smoking.),Äîand pass the tequila! If certain people have it in their hearts to want to thoroughly hang themselves, and then try to make others miserable while doing so, then we Discordians have the fucking right (and possibly even a duty) to provide them with some pretty damned effective nooses. (Preferably the ones with the little barbs in them.) Which is why the Purple Monkey Mafia/Cabal sometimes uses the question ,ÄúHow much rope do you need?,Äù as a motto. Praise Eris! We are not ones to shirk our Erisian duties, except on Fridays, and on Tuesdays, sometimes on Thursdays after 9 or 10pm, and some other times I forget right now. Let it be known from-here-on-out that the nuts are loose. Let,Äôs face it people, we are the missionaries of Eris,Ķthough we do it for the fun and excitement it brings us and Eris, there is some import to what we do, whatever it is, or whether it can be said that we,Äôre doing anything, in as much as it can be said that the Discordian Society are the bearers of working pineal glands.

If your mind doesn,Äôt explode from time to time then you are probably not doing something right. Perhaps Eris has a tickle waiting for you. Perhaps you will run into one of us. Perhaps neither will happen and you will simply explode your own damned mind. Perhaps you will not. Either way, along with some others, the nuts are loose and flying about. And the screws are being deposited in hidden corners of various microwave ovens in offices across the country. Woe to the visitors of the parks who come upon cabbages impaled at the top of pikes and do not understand that sign! Woe to the fast-food customers who do not understand the import behind the golden apples being stuffed into Ronald McDonald,Äôs mouth! Woe to the aneristics who ignore the plastic eggs secretly placed into their shopping bags! Woe to the fools who do not get the meaning behind the banners which say ,ÄúBeware of God! She is ODD!,Äù Woe to the fundamentalists who try to infiltrate our irreligious dis-organizational cabals and spread their mucky-mucking filthy lies about correct ways to approach Our Goddess!  May all who oppose us have their pants or skirts drop in public places! May all who oppose us,Äîrejecting our gift of enlightenment (and it was enlightenment, last time I checked, but I could be in need of an update),Äîbe pied as they try to cross through another allegedly secret Purple Monkey Mafia and Tequila M??stica drunken ,Äòdrink-in,Äô at the local forest preserve. Rest assured, or worried if-you-wish, that the opposition will be illuminated, preferably in the middle of the night by the twin powers of our air-horns and strobe-lights as they leap up from their sleep shouting ,ÄúWhat the fucking,ĶArghhhh!,Äù  If you find that the handle on your case is missing then throw it at THEM. If you can,Äôt get a handle on your minds, you know what to do. And you should know that you have our full support in doing so. Praise Eris, the Spectacular Party Hostess of the Chaotic Void! (Symbolized by the holes in your socks.) Hail Discordia, the Almighty Lady bonking you in the head with pop-tarts! Worship, worship, worship Our Lady of the Loose Nuts! And never forget to forget to know exactly which day it is as you awake from your slumber. As long as you have enough glue and paper clips, you shall never run out of ideas. Fear not those who wish you to be afraid of their grayness, for Our Lady has THEM in Her sights, and Her aim is always right on the mark, unless She has other plans that day. We are henceforth liberating all nuts, wherever they may be imprisoned, from the aisles of hardware stores, to the tool boxes in some people,Äôs garages. Find the nuts which are crying out for release and scatter them all about as a sign of your own Loose Nuts and of the Onward Rolling Golden Apples.

ALL HAIL DISCORDIA!

(Bureaucracy 10th, 3170)

[the dreadful hours]

indeed

[The Good Reverend Roger]

indeed

Why?

[the dreadful hours]

writer's block

[Reginald Ret]

I'm not going to read it completely, it has a low signal/noise ratio.