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We all know that the number of Americans who speak a second language is pitifully low. The most common second language is Spanish, and that's only because we share a border and many, many citizens of ambiguous status with Mexico. Any foreign country that isn't Anglophone knows the first step in making money on the international scene is to learn English. The Francophone countries tend to be the most pissed about this, but they deal with it for the most part. Asian countries learn English like it was the recipe to turn lead into platinum; many of them will PAY native English speakers just to talk to students.

This is totally unfair. Obviously something needs to be done to make American citizens on the whole more multilingual, because this "Foreigners can learn to speak English or fuck off" attitude will probably bite us in the ass sometime in the future. There are probably a zillion psychological articles about how being bi- or multi-lingual makes people smarter, but it may well be that the simple act of talking to someone in their native language will improve their opinion of Americans just a little bit.

So this is what should be done: the USA should massively boost incentives to learn other languages, and make sure that education is available to make American citizens fluent in Spanish, French, German, Italian, Russian, Arabic, Farsi, Swahili, Mandarin, Cantonese, Japanese, Vietnamese, and Thai...










...this isn't working.

[A Tale of the Prudish One]

I originally posted this on POEE.co.uk, and I figured whoring my kopyleft work a little more wouldn't hurt. Most of this is written in the vein of the Principia, because, like most young schmucks who discover Discordianism for the first time, I once thought I was gonna write the next <insert Latin word here> Discordia. It seems we've generally come to agree, that the BIP, the way it is now, is basically good, but perhaps too antagonistic and in need of the goofy formatting that makes the Principia and Apocrypha so amusing to read.

So burn a couple brain cells on this:


*The author apologizes for any offense this text may cause, but isn't really sorry*

A Tale of the Prudish One

Zarath the Confused Sage, whilst joyously throwing acorns into a river and at the occasional squirrel, a man walked up to him and asked, "Why do you throw acorns?"

After a moment's speculation, Zarath replied "Because it is more enjoyable than eating them, and it is safer than throwing hand grenades."

"But why interact with them at all?" asked the man.

"Well, why not? It does no harm," Zarath replied.

"But what is the reason for throwing them? Does it serve a purpose; is it part of a plan; what is gained from it?" the man pressed for an answer. Zarath became irritable.

"What is your problem, man? Does it bother you that I have no organized plan of action for dealing with these acorns? Perhaps I do it so the acorns will be carried downstream, where they might find a place to take root."

"But you should find a place to plant the acorns yourself if that is your reason," the man said, not understanding Zarath's irritation, for he was too disturbed by the confusing, un-purposeful nature of the Sage's behavior. "There are more efficient ways to plant acorns; you should not waste your time if you do not have a plan."

"Why are you so prudish? What care I if my throwing of acorns yields no future benefit to me? I throw them because I wish to, as it pleases me. If an acorn does take root because of my actions, then something has been gained, otherwise, nothing has been lost."

"Why should you wish to do anything at all, if it is not part of a plan for future gain? Idle pursuits are sinful!" the man seethed, himself becoming annoyed with the apparent lack of order in Zarath's mind. He worked himself half to death to maintain a particular order in his own thoughts and actions, so it seemed wrong, even offensive, that someone could be so contrary to his values. "The world is orderly in nature, and we must ourselves be organized in all things. Else we shall engage in the destructive ways of chaos and disorder!"

"Know-nothing!" screamed Zarath. "Without chaos, there can be no creativity, only mindless repetition and eventual stagnation!" With that, Zarath threw his remaining acorns at the prudish man and began hopping around, making chicken noises (bwauk, bwauk, bwaaauk!). The man fled and returned to his dull, comfortable life, and willingly bloted out his confusion with predictable, orderly thoughts of lunch and tax forms.

Zarath realized that he had met his nemesis.
-----

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==Haiku==
The Tao of Eris
Many things to think about
Best to forget them

==Limerick==
On Tuesday I read a book,
'Cause I thought it was worth a look.
I found it quite boring,
By the end I was snoring,
So a nap is what I took.

The Book of Dewlap
Zarath the Confused Sage was speaking with his companions during teatime (being an American, who was in America at that time, this meant he was having tea at the proper, Greenwich Mean Time when it was the middle of the working day according to his local time zone. It made no difference), when one of them asked a question of him:

"Zarath, the conundrum that we know as the 'Chicken or the egg' argument has vexed me lately. Which came first?"

Sipping his tea, Zarath realized too late that the tea was very hot, and he proceeded to burn his tongue. Unable to answer the question, he waved his hand in an attempt to get another to speak for him.

Rising to meet the Confused and now Slightly Burned Sage's needs, a perceptive young companion spoke aloud: "What Zarath means to say is that neither the chicken nor the egg seems to give a damn which came first, so we may conclude that they were born, simultaneously, from a wombat."

Satisfied, Zarath shrugged and those present were enlightened.
-----

A farmer told a man from the
city: "My cows are invisible, good sir."
Disbelieving, the city fellow looked into
the farmer's field,
And Lo! he could not see any cows.

If I find Jesus, does that mean the game is over, or is it my turn to hide?

Concerning the Number Eleven
*A Numerological Principle*

• Wherefore, if there are exactly eleven people present at a party, it shall be nigh impossible to divide the cake into eleven pieces, making it necessary to acquire more cakes of the same size to make eleven, or some multiple thereof.
• Wherefore, be it known that eleven is therefore an impractical and awkward number to use in any situation
• Wherefore, any person interested in promoting Holy Discord should attempt to apply the number eleven as often as possible, for obvious reasons.

The Reverend Gamalost was known
to wax philosophic very often,
because philosophic tended to lose
its glossy sheen all too easily.