Dear PD...

[Doktor Howl]

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

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

GLORY. PREACH IT.

Peedee has been looking like this for awhile now. The question is, do you WANT to be a character on an R. Crumb comic cover? Do you know what happen to characters in that guy's stories? They end up getting fucked by animal people with tails and shit. RUN.

[P3nT4gR4m]

I got two lives right now. I got the week and the weekend. The week is downtime. I switch off. I endure the mindfuckingly boring bullshit that I have to endure to pay for my weekend. It's always been this way but, until recently my weekends have been unfulfilling and have left me plenty energy to rant and foam about how it's all just a pile of shit.

Lately, tho, my weekends have been so full of epic awesome and win that I look forward to the 5 days of zombie, just to recover and get myself ready for the next friday night.

Truth is I got no energy left over to hate the world the way it deserves to be hated but I'm working on it. I'm working on being at least semi conscious monday thru thursday. As soon as I can muster up the energy to remain awake for those empty, non-existent four days, you'll hear me. Problem is, right now, I pretty much destroy anything that pisses me off without even having to open my eyes to do it 

[LMNO]

YARGANARGANARG.



Every day, they take pieces of you.  Bits of your rage, bits of your anger.  Bits of your patience.  Bits and bits and bits.

You're not being worn down, your being CHIPPED AWAY.  Removing both your defenses, and your OFFENCES.  Shaping you into shapelessness.  Hacking off antennae, radar, sensors, receptors.  Chopping off your pointing stick, your bludgeon hammer, slicing the lips off your yap machine¹.

Till all you are is a formless mass, unable to move, to respond, to act in any way.  Just sitting there, enduring.  And when you endure for long enough, you begin to accept.  And when you accept, you anticipate; and when you anticipate you become eager,and when you become eager, you fall in love.

And so there you are, in love with that which has ruined you.











¹They leave your eyes, though, so you can watch TeeVee.  And they leave you a single finger, because F5.

[Doktor Howl]

Till all you are is a formless mass, unable to move, to respond, to act in any way.  Just sitting there, enduring.  And when you endure for long enough, you begin to accept.  And when you accept, you anticipate; and when you anticipate you become eager,and when you become eager, you fall in love.

I was only doing this to crawl in the belly of the beast for a while, to see what the horrorshow was all about...Then I was gonna do an alien chest-burster thing on my way out.

But somewhere along the way, I became addicted to the crisis mentality.  It makes me feel so alive that I don't even bother with intoxicants anymore.

It's a trap.  A horrible trap.  But the problem is similar to the BIP...where do you go that isn't part of the trap?  Once you get in, it's damn near impossible to get out, BECAUSE THERE ISN'T ANY "OUT" TO GO TO!

And it's not just you and I.  RWHN's job ate him spiritually.  Nigel's career move is killing her physically, though exhaustion and stress.  Stella still can't achieve escape velocity with respect to Texas.  Cain has started stuffing the remains of students into the car "boots" of public officials.  ECH lost his sea legs and grew a replacement butthole.  It's like it's CONTAGIOUS or something.

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

It IS contagious.
Antibiotics don't work.
You could try to SHIT it out, but the required number of laxatives and enemas might prove to be lethal.

[Doktor Howl]

It IS contagious.
Antibiotics don't work.
You could try to SHIT it out, but the required number of laxatives and enemas might prove to be lethal.

I have been shitting like a 200-pounder fire hose since 2007, and I can't break even.

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

It IS contagious.
Antibiotics don't work.
You could try to SHIT it out, but the required number of laxatives and enemas might prove to be lethal.

I have been shitting like a 200-pounder fire hose since 2007, and I can't break even.

But you can't GIVE UP, either, or It wins.

You have to keep shitting.

[Doktor Howl]

It IS contagious.
Antibiotics don't work.
You could try to SHIT it out, but the required number of laxatives and enemas might prove to be lethal.

I have been shitting like a 200-pounder fire hose since 2007, and I can't break even.

But you can't GIVE UP, either, or It wins.

You have to keep shitting.

It's what I was born for.  It's no effort at all.  Just point me at some humans, and get the hell out of splatter range.  I am a GODDAMN SUPERIOR MUTANT, and they should view my butt-nuggets as a SACRAMENT which they DO NOT DESERVE.  Yet I continue to provide it, because I am, after all, a humanitarian.  In the same way that some people are "vegetarian".

[Doktor Howl]

In short:  You do NOT fuck with a Doktor unless he offers you the vaseline personally!

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

You're an example to ALL of us. May high fiber and lactose deliver us to our spiritual advancement.

[EK WAFFLR]

Glory be to the Holy Tub of Dok's Vaseline!

[Doktor Howl]

You're an example to ALL of us. May high fiber and lactose deliver us to our spiritual advancement.

I'm not Discordianism.  I'm just a Discordian.  Consider the book of Richterians, chapter 9, verse 12:

And then ECH stood, considering the horrible pile of droppings, and he spake, saying "Aw SHIT man, it ain't nothing but a thing, a nothing like you ever saw before kinda thing, a little bitty bite you on the ass and leave little teeth marks thing, but pretty soon you die from the venom, dontcha know, and then Discordianism dies with you, and the Doktors die with you, and all them little children left behind haven't got anything to EAT, except a couple pounds of fresh RAW MEAT they carved off of their baby sitters that they tied up and hid in the dryer, and when the cops came they said "NO, officer, we ain't seen no dead chick" and they laughed, and I mean, they just ROLLED...But this thing, now no way it's gonna trip ME up, 'cause I got me a BRAND NEW ASSHOLE ON THIS OLD BUTT...And he continued as he staggered off out of mike range, still ranting, eventually falling on the ground and foaming at the mouth."

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

You're an example to ALL of us. May high fiber and lactose deliver us to our spiritual advancement.

I'm not Discordianism.  I'm just a Discordian.  Consider the book of Richterians, chapter 9, verse 12:

And then ECH stood, considering the horrible pile of droppings, and he spake, saying "Aw SHIT man, it ain't nothing but a thing, a nothing like you ever saw before kinda thing, a little bitty bite you on the ass and leave little teeth marks thing, but pretty soon you die from the venom, dontcha know, and then Discordianism dies with you, and the Doktors die with you, and all them little children left behind haven't got anything to EAT, except a couple pounds of fresh RAW MEAT they carved off of their baby sitters that they tied up and hid in the dryer, and when the cops came they said "NO, officer, we ain't seen no dead chick" and they laughed, and I mean, they just ROLLED...But this thing, now no way it's gonna trip ME up, 'cause I got me a BRAND NEW ASSHOLE ON THIS OLD BUTT...And he continued as he staggered off out of mike range, still ranting, eventually falling on the ground and foaming at the mouth."

And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray for vain shit, publicly and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their stupid UNLIMITED DATA. But humble thyselves and pray ye rather for BRAND NEW ASSHOLES that you may do my work.

[Doktor Howl]

Cain, TGRR, and ECH are stranded on a desert island when they find Aladdin's lamp.  A Genie appears and gives them each one wish.

Cain says "I wish that all the people at PD would just take the fucking time to READ what I'm saying to them, so they'd know who is fucking them and how."

TGRR says "I wish that all the people that have read my works could read well enough to UNDERSTAND my works, so they would SHUT UP."

ECH says "I just wish I had a new asshole, because this one's all worn out and prolapsed from evangelizing to the heathen."

And the Genie says "No, just kidding, I'm actually a hallucination.  You guys are all starving to death on a desert island."