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Topics - Mesozoic Mister Nigel

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Discordian Recipes / WTF is Nigel eating
« on: January 01, 2009, 10:59:10 pm »
My contribution to the Discordian recipe threads.

Right now I'm having rockfish in spicy tomato sauce.

Step 1:

Get a bunch of tomatoes, onions, garlic, and jalapenos
Simmer them for hours, can them for later

Step 2:

Get some rockfish
Simmer it in that tomato stuff, with some salt

Remove fish, reduce sauce

Serve over rice.

Bring and Brag / Breaking up
« on: December 17, 2008, 09:30:21 pm »

He started distancing himself as soon as her husband moved out. Maybe he couldn't deal with her availability, and what that meant about her feelings for him, even though they were on the table long before that. He is a mess in a lot of ways, and she is a mess in a lot of ways, and together, they are just a compounded mess. In some ways they have been good for each other, but in some of the same ways they've been good, like allowing each other a respite from the harshness of their respective situations, they've also been unhealthy, by taking it to the point of drunken irresponsibility. A respite should not be an escape, and a relationship based on escapism has nowhere to go.

She feels lost in the lack of support from him. She grew dependent on him, and now that he's not here she doesn't know what to do. She can't even seem to get much work done, she hasn't been productive at all this week. It's funny because it seems like she hardly leaned on him at all when she was processing the really hard part of losing her husband... this part... but now that she's losing him, it's even harder because there's just a void where he used to be, and she wants to go to him but she can't. There's nothing there for her to go to.

And... she just misses him. He is completely unique and unlike anyone else she has ever known, and he is the only person she's ever met who really, truly seems to fit her. Except she misses what they had, not what they have. So she thinks this is the right thing. She cannot, at this point, cope with being rejected sexually and intimately, scooted to the sidelines of his life, and deal with his selfish, manipulative wife moving back into his house, to either hear about them getting back together, or know that he's withholding details of his life to spare her. Either way, the situation is unsalvageable. The only way for her to salvage HERSELF is to walk away from this completely, permanently.

Maybe her complete withdrawal will help push him back into an unhealthy marriage even more completely... but she can't afford to know, or allow it to affect her decision. She is going to wait a couple weeks, then ask him to please drop off her laptop and any other stuff she left at his house over at her sister's. She figures that if she gives it a couple of weeks, it won't seem as much like an angry symbolic gesture as like simple closure. Or, maybe he'll just do it on his own.

So, she's drinking tea instead of wine and trying to sleep at night and sometimes she stands in the kitchen and screams and screams at the unfairness of life, or it hits her in the middle of checking her mail or feeding her pets and it hurts like she's been punched in the gut, and she know that she will always miss him and always love him, but that in time it won't hurt so much, and then it won't hurt every day, and then someday she will only think about him part of the time, and someday, she will think about him hardly at all. And things will be OK.

Or Kill Me / Therefore, the gods are DICKS
« on: December 15, 2008, 11:27:22 pm »
I believe that sometimes, the gods make people who are so different from the usual mold that it is a challenge for them to simply live a normal life.

And they say, This one will have a hard time in life, they will see more and feel more, and it will make them love us more closely, because they will understand the nature of reality a little more keenly.

And they take these ones for themselves, and make them very different from others, though they seek to live the same kinds of lives.

They live as best they can, struggling, and many people love them, but they always feel a little lonely, and not quite find a pure meeting of minds.

The gods say, I will take and take this one, and he will be a complement to this other one, but they will not meet soon in life. They will have to wait until life has overcome them, and they have learned from it.

They will meet many others who admire them and want to be close with them for a while, who will love them and have good things together, but they will not be able to meet and be truly happy together; they are not the complement to this one.

After a time the unusual ones become guarded and close, they become fearful, and not able to give themselves wholly, because they have given themselves, and not been wholly accepted; they have not found their complement. If they were to open themselves and ask the gods, What am I do do? They would receive their answer, but they have closed themselves and cannot hear it until they open again.

But when they open again, they will hear the answer, when they have learned enough for them to know their complement. Even though life has been difficult, when they are ready and they have struggled through obstacles and become strong enough in living to be able to know their partner, this part of life will open and they will recognize their helpmeet, the one who is loved enough by their own gods to be the complete match for them, the one who will love them for all the unusual qualities they hold, nourish them and hold them in all their wholeness, and when this happens all parts of their life and consciousness, and everyone they touch, will be richer.

Think for Yourself, Schmuck! / Intermittens #4
« on: December 11, 2008, 05:33:18 pm »
Now accepting submissions for Intermittens #4... I am thinking this will be the "Lollercaust issue" and you know what that means!

For this issue can we all just knock the fuck off with the "but not all" qualifier? I think that people here are literate enough to TOTALLY GET that if you MEANT "ALL", you would have SAID "ALL".

Adding more words does not always convey more meaning.

Am I way off base here? I think it just trains people to think they DO mean "all" unless specified otherwise. If anyone misunderstands "some" to mean "all" they need to STOP BEING SO FUCKING LITERATELY LAZY.

"Some" "Most", and "Many" DON'T MEAN ALL. We get it.

post edited for legal reasons

Apple Talk / Shameless whoring
« on: November 29, 2008, 03:47:23 pm »
Last night I killed myself putting beads on the Internet.

Literate Chaotic / Epiphanies
« on: November 29, 2008, 04:16:36 am »
Earlier today I wrote about an epiphany I had at one point in my life and what it meant to me; how it shaped my Discordianism. Then I started thinking about such epiphanies in general, and wondering if there might be a lot of good stories out there, so I thought I'd start a thread to ask you guys whether you have any interesting epiphanic stories you'd like to share? I'll repost mine:

One day about seven years ago, I was driving home from work. It was evening, late summer, absolutely gorgeous out with the sunlight sliding from golden to plum as the sun set. The leaves on the trees were just starting to yellow. It was the hardest time I've ever gone through in my life: A man I had fallen in love with, hard, had recently broken my heart and moved to Chigaco. My husband had left me a little over a year earlier, with a two-year-old and a six-month-old baby. I had the kids six days a week, but was paying my ex child support due to an "error" in the divorce paperwork, wherein my ex had calculated child support as if he had full legal and halftime physical custody. I'd just hired a lawyer to file for an adjustment to our parenting plan/child support, and my ex was being vindictive. I was getting up at horrorshow-thirty to drive the kids to their babysitter before work, working a full nine hour day, and then picking them up after, going home, making dinner, putting them to bed. I paid the babysitter $400/month, my ex $265/month, and the house I was renting and trying to buy was $700/month. My piece of shit 1977 Plymouth Arrow leaked fluids like an open wound, stalled out at every full stop, the passenger door flew open every time I took a sharp left, and the muffler had rusted through some time before. Problem was, I only made $12 an hour.

So I was feeling kind of sorry for myself. Actually, I was severely suicidally depressed, on tranquilizers most of the time, and the only thing that kept me going was my children.

And then, as I rounded a corner and my passenger door flew open, I had an epiphany; things could get, arbitrarily, infinitely worse at any moment with no warning. My home could burn down, my children could die, I could become catastrophically ill and unable to keep my house or care for my kids.

And then the world was beautiful again, and I relearned how to be happy.

For the most part my Eris is a reflection of the arbitrary universe I see around me, sometimes beautiful and sometimes devastating, and it is up to me to be the comforting, stable mother-nurturer. I don't need an external one.

Literate Chaotic / Why are you here?
« on: November 20, 2008, 07:17:45 pm »
I was thinking about the various reasons different people come to this board and the extremely varied topics here... obviously, most people enjoy certain types of threads and projects more than others. Why are you here?

I'm here to have fun. I like the repartee, the funny, the exchange of ideas. I like the argument. I like the bizarre things people share about their thought processes and their lives. I like that it gives me things to think about, to keep my mind sharp and quick, and diversify my thought base. I like watching ideas evolve from sensical to completely nonsensical and then back into something sensical, but completely different from where they started. I like reading about prank ideas and sharing my own prank ideas. I'm not here to create my Discordian legacy, I'm not here to change the political landscape, I'm not here for Deep Important Things, but if something I tap out on my keyboard ends up being worth saving, that's rad.

What are you guys here for?

Literate Chaotic / The positive side of classical Eris
« on: November 20, 2008, 02:58:29 am »
I was just reading Wikipedia (yeah, I know) and came across this:

In Hesiod's Works and Days 1124, two different goddesses named Eris "Strife" are distinguished:

    So, after all, there was not one kind of Strife alone, but all over the earth there are two. As for the one, a man would praise her when he came to understand her; but the other is blameworthy: and they are wholly different in nature.
    For one fosters evil war and battle, being cruel: her no man loves; but perforce, through the will of the deathless gods, men pay harsh Strife her honour due.
    But the other is the elder daughter of dark Night (Nyx), and the son of Cronus who sits above and dwells in the aether, set her in the roots of the earth: and she is far kinder to men. She stirs up even the shiftless to toil; for a man grows eager to work when he considers his neighbour, a rich man who hastens to plough and plant and put his house in good order; and neighbour vies with his neighbour as he hurries after wealth. This Strife is wholesome for men. And potter is angry with potter, and craftsman with craftsman, and beggar is jealous of beggar, and minstrel of minstrel.

I had always thought the ancients perceived Our Lady as a royal bitch and pain in the ass, it's kind of nice to see that they recognized that there was a Hodge to her Podge.

Think for Yourself, Schmuck! / What to do about Intermittens #4
« on: November 16, 2008, 05:54:29 am »
... nevermind

post edited for legal reasons

Bring and Brag / That story
« on: October 07, 2008, 03:17:09 am »
How about that story where the girl is in love with the guy, and has been for a long time, and he's basically her best friend except that they sleep together? Also it gets more complicated, but there's no real reason to go into that. It's complicated in the way everyone's lives are complicated, with divorces and kids and friends who don't know and damaged hearts and things that haven't been worked through yet and drinking problems and money problems and communication problems.

But in that story, which you already know because we all already know it, the girl is in love with the boy. The boy loves the girl but he isn't IN LOVE with her, for whatever reason, maybe because it's the wrong time or he's not over his ex or she's not the right girl. It doesn't matter. He's not cruel. He doesn't want anything to change because he likes it the way it is, the closeness and the friendship and even sometimes the sex. She likes it too. The sad part is that she likes it in a way that makes her feel like the only right and natural thing would be if he looked at her the way he used to look at his ex, which is also the way the girl looks at him. He avoids her eyes sometimes. The sad part is that she can feel in her little red fluttery meat heart how right it would be if they ate together, paid the mortgage together, slept together every night, were THAT THING for each other.

The sad part is that she knows she should cut it short, should walk away from the eyes that don't look at her that way and the hands that don't touch her that way, but she won't, because she loves him and she hopes that someday he will love her too, that way.

Or Kill Me / The Girl with a Girl's Tender Heart
« on: October 06, 2008, 05:20:38 pm »
(I wrote this last year about my friend The Enucleator.)

She is not malicious. She is not calculating, she is not manipulative. She is not unreasonable. She is not making things up. She is not crying because she is trying to make you feel bad, she is crying because she feels bad.

Look at her. She looks like a girl. A woman, but we call ourselves girls. A mother. She is hard as iron, tough as nails. She endures like a mesa, bends like a fir in strong winds, stands upright after the storm. She is soft; she has curves, warm breasts, smooth arms, a nape on her neck that is made to be nuzzled. She is pretty. She has lips for kissing, eyes that can call for silence or snap and rage or fill with tears.

And she cries. A lot. More than she thinks she cries, because girls are made for crying. Crying and loving and holding people. And her heart is a soft, soft tender girl's heart. As strong as she is, as tough as she is, her hard hard heart softens at a moment's notice, and lets in the biggest baddest wolves as long as they talk gentle, move slow, and tell her the right stories. Because girls aren't made to be suspicious, aren't wagers of war or hostage negotiators. And it's too bad, because the hostages are our own hearts, our very tender not-lying-when-they-cry hearts.

Girls are amazing. There is no code; we are deceptively simple. We will tell you, in plain simple words, what we want. Love me. Be there when you say you're going to be there. Tell me what you want from me. If you listen, you can hear it. Don't complicate us; we aren't speaking in tongues. Don't pretend you don't understand. Don't pretend you never heard us. Just listen.

Just listen, and remember that inside the girl you are looking at is a girl's tender heart. Try not to hurt it. And when you have it, remember that she isn't very good at guarding her heart, so that will be up to you. That's a thing a man is good at.

Apple Talk / Cramson and Delailah
« on: July 15, 2008, 07:18:48 pm »
And it came to pass afterward, that he loved a woman in the boards of, whose name was Delailah.

And the lords of the WOMP cabal came up unto her, and said unto her,
Entice him, and see wherein his great strength lieth, and by what means
we may prevail against him, that we may WOMP him to afflict him; and we
will give thee every one of us an humorous manipulated image.

And Delailah said to Cramson, Tell me, I pray thee, wherein thy great
strength lieth, and wherewith thou mightest be WOMPed to afflict thee.
And Cramson said unto her, If they afflict me with seven green n00bs that
were never tried, then shall I be weak, and be as another man. Then the
lords of the WOMP cabal brought up to her seven green n00bs which had
not been tried, and she afflicted him with them. Now there was Payne and 000 lying in
wait, abiding with her in the chamber. And she said unto him, The
WOMP cabal be upon thee, Cramson. And he trolled the n00bs, as a thread of
AKK is trolled when it toucheth the forum. So his strength was not known.

And Delailah said unto Cramson, Behold, thou hast POSTERGASMed me, and told me
jokes: now tell me, I pray thee, wherewith thou mightest be bound. And he
said unto her, If they annoy me fast with outlandish pinealists that never were
occupied, then shall I be weak, and be as another man. Delilah therefore
took new pinealists, and annoyed him therewith, and said unto him, The
WOMP cabal be upon thee, Cramson. And there were SUCKers in wait abiding
in the chamber. And he brake them from off his pics like a thread.

And Delailah said unto Cramson, Hitherto thou hast POSTERGASMed me, and told me
jokes: tell me wherewith thou mightest be bound. And he said unto her, If
thou WOMPest the seven pics of my head with the web. And she altered
it with the MSPAINT, and said unto him, The WOMP cabal be upon thee,
Cramson. And he awaked out of his sleep, and went away with the WOMP of
the MSPAINT, and with the web.

And she said unto him, How canst thou say, I love thee, when thine heart
is not with me? Thou hast POSTERGASMed me these three times, and hast not told
me wherein thy great strength lieth. And it came to pass, when she
pressed him daily with her words, and urged him, so that his soul was
vexed unto death; that he told her all his heart, and said unto her,
There hath not come a razor upon mine upper lip; for I have been a Discordian
unto Eris from my mother's womb if I be shaven, then my strength will go
from me, and I shall become weak, and be like any other man.

And when Delailah saw that he had told her all his heart, she sent and
called for the lords of the WOMP cabal, saying, Come up this once, for
he hath showed me all his heart. Then the lords of the WOMP cabal came
up unto her, and brought pics in their hand. And she made him sleep
upon her knees; and she called for Payne, and she caused him to shave
off the golden locks of his Moustachios; and she began to afflict him, and his
strength went from him. And she said, The WOMP cabal be upon thee,
Cramson. And he awoke out of his sleep, and said, I will post as at
other times before, and shake myself. And he wist not that the Moustache was
departed from him.

Bring and Brag / I wanna be abraded
« on: June 24, 2008, 05:25:34 am »
Why in a poem is something
almost always bruised?
I tire of bruised. Bruised
with passion, with violence,
maybe just a plummy color
of sunsets over apricot
orchards, always adding
atmosphere to someone's
poetic darling, their sneeze.
Bruised skies, bruised thighs,
bruised bloodshot pinpoint eyes,
bruised fruit from trees with
bruised bark under bruised
clouds in a lowering sky
under God's bruised pride.
I tire of bruised.

Let's all get abraded.

Bring and Brag / Bitter divorce poems
« on: June 22, 2008, 05:25:33 pm »

My heart is like a raisin
shriveled by your love.
Oh wait, that wasn't love;
that was just you
pretending to be the sun.

Apple Talk / Shit fuck damn
« on: June 20, 2008, 01:07:12 am »
I accidentally clicked the "Mark all read" button. :(

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