Eris doesn't need worshippers like that limp rag of a Christos. His hand-wringing supplicants are a plague upon the World already. She asks for no bent knees, no pious penitents, she offers no absolution, nor bids her faithful to be washed in the sacrificial gore of some scapegoat's stolen life.
She don't roll like Jeehobah, she doesn't need constant validation from a flock of frightened, sinful sheep, mumbling empty prayers under the judging eyes and false shepherding of a Priesthood full of bastards, mountebanks and charlatans. If she bestows upon you, your hearts desire, it is not as some reward for unswerving faith, or dutiful worship.
Nay, it is with the casual indifference of a good natured feaster tossing the remains of the meal to her Hounds. Her gifts are not something that one should strive towards, for she is nothing if not fickle and capricious towards mortals. Would Paris have been so blind in his pursuit of Helen, had he known the terrible price that would be demanded of him?
To incur the displeasure of Hera, and the abandonment of Athena, just so he could play "Hide the sausage" with a Spartan Queen, stolen from under the nose of her Atreides Husband?, Had he known every King of Greece was to wage war upon his beautiful Troy? It wasn't even the first time sluttish Helen had been "stolen away" for her beauty, oh no. But the first time, by a Hero so pure he would not bespoil her virgin loins with his mighty seed?
No, it was a good, stiff cock that girl yearned for, not the weak, dribbled seed of old man Meneleaus. Her womb demanded she till it's fecundity with the hard stiff, fucking of a young, strong Prince like pretty Paris. And Lady Eris? They fucking SNUBBED Her! Fuck those preening Olympians and their pet Kings and Heroes!
Peleus and Thetis should have as their wedding gift, to see their Olympian Gods and Goddesses for the self obsessed, spoiled bitches and thundering spineless bastards they really were. The vanity of woman, exemplified beyond mortal comprehension by the greedy squabbling of deific entitlement.
"For The most Beautiful one" She tossed her Hesperidic Apple into the sight of the three most vain, self obsessed, spoiled bratty bitches ever cut from the flesh of a demented child devouring Titan. So greedy, they couldn't even let Thetis, though sired by Zeus himself (but don't tell Hera) and their own half Sister, be "the most beautiful" one, even at her own fucking wedding feast!
Even in her glorious wrath, Eris (who loved a good game above all else) left an option for redemption. All they had to do was let Thetis claim the Apple as her wedding gift. Behave in a way fitting, not for Olympian Gods, but as Guests in the House of their hosts on the day of their Wedding.
Daddy Zeus, cock of the fucking block, patron of Hospitality and the bestower of a guest's right to be treated with respect, he could have put his mighty foot down, and slapped his squabbling family of bitches into line with a single word. But no, so spineless was he, so reluctant to have to go back to the Mountain with Hera's haughty disdain and icy cold psyhcopathic plotting of revenge, he abetted their appalling behavior.
He said he would mediate the issue, then delegated responsibility to Hermes. Who bottled it too, and picked poor Paris, watching his goats on a hillside. Then each would be pretty Goddess, in order to be bitchiest bitch in the bitch pile, and Apple owning Queen of the spoiled sulk, tried bribing the fucking judge. Unbelievable. Monstrous arrogance. Self obsession taken to it's ugly and catastrophic extreme, with not a thought of consequence, or twinge of conscience. Just as Eris had foreseen.
"Consequence, my pretty ,posing, shamefully behaved progeny? Oh, Grandmother Eris is going to teach you ALL about fucking consequences, you primped up over-privileged priapic bunch of superpowered toddlers! Game on, motherfuckers! (Technically, sibling fuckers, but hey, who's going to point THAT out to Zeus and Hera?)
Eris in one fell move, became Dungeon Master of the Olympian D&D Cabal. The mortal play people that Olympus had for so long been at a loss what to do with, they were going to make some fucking demands of their Gods now. They were going to have to work for their Ambrosia habits. Learn some diplomacy. How to make concessions, how to back the fuck up a bit, and let these Mortals have their head. Learn some fucking boundaries. Rules. Gamesmanship.
Either that, or it was War in Heaven. With canny Hades, down below, with the souls of all the dead at his command. and jealous plotting, bitter, tricked brother, Poisiedon under the waves, played for the chump again. Waiting for his chance to topple Zeus, and take his rightful turn as crowing cock, King of that dunghill Olympus. No thought for the fact the Earth would be once again under his Ocean, nope, not with him up the Mountain, guzzling barrels of Ambrosia all day long. Thus went the dreams of Posiedon.
And poor Paris, his hard on for Helen was pre-destined to humble the mighty Greeks, to grant them victory over Troy, but to pauper them in the process. Agamemnon, proudest and most ambitious King of Mycenae, and Meneleaus, his Brother King of Sparta, but only by dint of his marriage to (soon to be stolen away) Helen of Sparta. Most puissant Queen that mortal man had ever spawned. Original Trophy Bride, the face that launched a thousand (yet to be built) Ships. Wife of an Atreides, the King of the Spartans, mightiest Warriors ever to pick up a Spear. And not really a man who would take being cuckolded by a mere Boy Prince of some far off City with good grace.
This Queen, Helen, was the glue holding the loose confederation of Greek City States together with her dowry, her beauty, and her placement at the tip of the triumverate of powers, Sparta, Athens, and Mycenae.
Casually promised to pretty boy Paris, as his reward for Judging in favour of Aphrodite. Her of the bottomless cunt. So the greedy eyed, cock hungry Daddy's girl, gets what she wants. A fucking Apple. With Kallisti wrote upon it's golden skin.
"Cock-a-doodle me, prettiest of the three you two ugly bitches, bow down to me"
Wisdom was not this jiggly titted honey dripping slut's forte. Olympus's in house rutting whore, Hungry cunted Goddess of sluts, skanks, and cum guzzling slags everywhere with a libido that surpassed even Zeus himself. Her proudest party trick was a cock in each hole, one between her pouty lips, and one in each hand, then bringing them all to bone juddering climax simultaneously, to the enthusiastic applause of those living up the Topside. Proto-Bimbo-Barby slut guts. (Still would though, know what I mean?)
"Attagirl" Zeus would say, under his breath
because Zeus openly admiring any female that wasn't her just sent Hera off into one of her squawking rages.
Slowly, the events set into motion by these blustering bragging irresponsible Olympians were coming together, mortal man's day was here, these unconsidered playthings, whose whole existence was so carefully guarded by Foresight and his brother, Hindsight , (Prometheus and Epimethius) and bought at such price and risk from Zeus;s wrath, now had the teeth that Zeus always feared they'd have.
Now do you start to see the depth of Eris's gamesmanship? See how her carefully planned vengeance would teach them ALL to behave a little bit better? Now Zeus would really have to put the family to work! Each Olympian designated a sphere of mortal influence, having now to barter their good graces to this scurrying thing, Man, for goats and prayers and promises of fealty, and should they waver in their diligence, the balance between the triumverate Sons of Cronos, Posieden, Zeus and Hades would crumble, the Kraken would awake, and the World would be lost.
The Demigods Zeus had so carelessly spawned with any woman shaped thing his dick fancied poking, had founded the dynasties of Man's Kings, and they all looked to Olympus. They could withhold their worship, or turn away, towards other new Gods. (They even had to flee, hide in Egypt and disguise themselves with Animal heads while Heracles sorted the Titan "threat" out for them. (He freed Prometheus too) And in this way, with acts of service, Man's Heroes, Heracles, Theseus, Perseus, Bellerophon, Achilles, Atreus, Orpheus, all had Zeus's blood in them, and all founded Dynastic Houses, dedicated to their patron Gods. . . Deific inter-personal politics had to be learned by Olympus. The ages of Man grew, from Archaic, Classical, Hellenistic, slowly Greece became more and more apart from it's Gods. The mystery cults of the Orphic Mysteries, the Oracular Pythonesses, and their attendant Priesthoods now held sway, and spoke for the Gods.
Eris sits back in her rocking chair, playing Donkey Kong on her old Nintendo Gameboy, while Zeus bemoans the eventual fall of Greece to Rome, and the quick "shufty" to Romanised forms in order to survive. Eris, although Grandmother of Zeus, and older than the first thought, still as quietly powerful as ever (since her Game had never depended upon people's belief) rocks slowly, her hand rolled fag hanging from her smiling lips says
"Sack up, Boy, you had your day in the fucking sun didn't you? You did deeds, great and small, noble, and base, your name is still written in the dusty books of Epimetheus's little side project, Man,right?"
Zeus nods glumly.
"They still sacrifice to you, The Thunderer, don't they? Your bolts of lightening still get to feed you, Zeus, now and again?"
"They strap the sacrifices into a chair of wood, Grandmother. HUMAN sacrifices. They begin to show the disease of Cronos, in the way they
feed upon each other, their young, their Wars, all so senseless"
"And where did they get that trait from then? You! You sticking your priapic pecker into their women, you passed Cronos down to them,.. . They are just doing with the gene what they have to, NEED to!"
"And Zeus" said Eris, Zeus looks up. "Since when did you, an Olympian and God, the Mighty Thunderer, Zeus, first of the mighty age of Gods, since when did YOU even give a fuck?" Her eyes twinkle . . .
"Since you fucking MADE us all give a fuck, Grandmother. . . you scheming old Bitch . . .I CARE now, I feel things like . . like I suppose mortals do" Eris nodded, sagely. Waiting for her once slow witted thuggish Grandson to follow his thoughts . . .
"Are we to die like mortals too? Is that what we have come to? An Ignomious death, falling in the dirt and leaving our bones to bleach under the Sun of the next fucking SunHero the monkeys nail up?"
"What am I, some kind of Agony Aunt for your morose moody grumblings? Get up, you moody emo twat, I didn't raise me no whiny lil bastards! Well . . . I did, but you're all grown up now . . . Grown. You're big grown badass son of fucking Chaos, get up and act like it. . .
You don't like your sacrifices all Human and fried? Tell them! Make them fucking listen. You're a GOD, for God's sake. You still have a Crew of other Gods, shake them up some, get a rocket under their arses too, go and do some fucking Godding! I mean it, now get up, and fuck off! I'm sick of the sight of your droopy mawkish face!"
Zeus, stung by the rebukes, and as always, more than a little afraid of this flapping old crone (funny, she was beautiful, young, and vibrant not five minutes ago) gets up, and slouches towards the door. "Forgetting something?" She says. "I don't think so" says Zeus.
"COME HERE AND GIVE YOUR GRANNY A FUCKING KISS YOU LITTLE BASTARD" She screeches at him, all crackly fire and sour piss now, incandescent. Afraid, but more afraid of not doing her will, he kisses her . . . "And"? . . ."I love you Nan" he says, as hopeless as any other seven year old boy and his cranky old Grandmother.
"I'm proud of you Zeus, you know that? Out of all my ill-considered brats, and their own whelps, you are the one I was always so hard on (I said hard on, she giggled) You know why?" "No" he said . . .
"Because YOU were always the slowest witted, the stupidest, the dummy, the one everyone else took the piss out of. event hough you were the one that could take any three of the others on and whup their sucky arses, Zeus the Goose, what's the use? they'd sing.
You think you outwitted Posiedon? I had to get in there first and dose him up with Cough syrup and Ativan so that you'd not be the one swimming around with the fucking fishes! Pffft, Now get the fuck out, and don't come back until you've done whatever the fuck it is you're going to do . . . And when you do come back" she paused . . . "Bring us back a bottle of Harvey's Bristol Cream Love, can you?" "Yes Nan" . . . .
She don't roll like Jeehobah, she doesn't need constant validation from a flock of frightened, sinful sheep, mumbling empty prayers under the judging eyes and false shepherding of a Priesthood full of bastards, mountebanks and charlatans. If she bestows upon you, your hearts desire, it is not as some reward for unswerving faith, or dutiful worship.
Nay, it is with the casual indifference of a good natured feaster tossing the remains of the meal to her Hounds. Her gifts are not something that one should strive towards, for she is nothing if not fickle and capricious towards mortals. Would Paris have been so blind in his pursuit of Helen, had he known the terrible price that would be demanded of him?
To incur the displeasure of Hera, and the abandonment of Athena, just so he could play "Hide the sausage" with a Spartan Queen, stolen from under the nose of her Atreides Husband?, Had he known every King of Greece was to wage war upon his beautiful Troy? It wasn't even the first time sluttish Helen had been "stolen away" for her beauty, oh no. But the first time, by a Hero so pure he would not bespoil her virgin loins with his mighty seed?
No, it was a good, stiff cock that girl yearned for, not the weak, dribbled seed of old man Meneleaus. Her womb demanded she till it's fecundity with the hard stiff, fucking of a young, strong Prince like pretty Paris. And Lady Eris? They fucking SNUBBED Her! Fuck those preening Olympians and their pet Kings and Heroes!
Peleus and Thetis should have as their wedding gift, to see their Olympian Gods and Goddesses for the self obsessed, spoiled bitches and thundering spineless bastards they really were. The vanity of woman, exemplified beyond mortal comprehension by the greedy squabbling of deific entitlement.
"For The most Beautiful one" She tossed her Hesperidic Apple into the sight of the three most vain, self obsessed, spoiled bratty bitches ever cut from the flesh of a demented child devouring Titan. So greedy, they couldn't even let Thetis, though sired by Zeus himself (but don't tell Hera) and their own half Sister, be "the most beautiful" one, even at her own fucking wedding feast!
Even in her glorious wrath, Eris (who loved a good game above all else) left an option for redemption. All they had to do was let Thetis claim the Apple as her wedding gift. Behave in a way fitting, not for Olympian Gods, but as Guests in the House of their hosts on the day of their Wedding.
Daddy Zeus, cock of the fucking block, patron of Hospitality and the bestower of a guest's right to be treated with respect, he could have put his mighty foot down, and slapped his squabbling family of bitches into line with a single word. But no, so spineless was he, so reluctant to have to go back to the Mountain with Hera's haughty disdain and icy cold psyhcopathic plotting of revenge, he abetted their appalling behavior.
He said he would mediate the issue, then delegated responsibility to Hermes. Who bottled it too, and picked poor Paris, watching his goats on a hillside. Then each would be pretty Goddess, in order to be bitchiest bitch in the bitch pile, and Apple owning Queen of the spoiled sulk, tried bribing the fucking judge. Unbelievable. Monstrous arrogance. Self obsession taken to it's ugly and catastrophic extreme, with not a thought of consequence, or twinge of conscience. Just as Eris had foreseen.
"Consequence, my pretty ,posing, shamefully behaved progeny? Oh, Grandmother Eris is going to teach you ALL about fucking consequences, you primped up over-privileged priapic bunch of superpowered toddlers! Game on, motherfuckers! (Technically, sibling fuckers, but hey, who's going to point THAT out to Zeus and Hera?)
Eris in one fell move, became Dungeon Master of the Olympian D&D Cabal. The mortal play people that Olympus had for so long been at a loss what to do with, they were going to make some fucking demands of their Gods now. They were going to have to work for their Ambrosia habits. Learn some diplomacy. How to make concessions, how to back the fuck up a bit, and let these Mortals have their head. Learn some fucking boundaries. Rules. Gamesmanship.
Either that, or it was War in Heaven. With canny Hades, down below, with the souls of all the dead at his command. and jealous plotting, bitter, tricked brother, Poisiedon under the waves, played for the chump again. Waiting for his chance to topple Zeus, and take his rightful turn as crowing cock, King of that dunghill Olympus. No thought for the fact the Earth would be once again under his Ocean, nope, not with him up the Mountain, guzzling barrels of Ambrosia all day long. Thus went the dreams of Posiedon.
And poor Paris, his hard on for Helen was pre-destined to humble the mighty Greeks, to grant them victory over Troy, but to pauper them in the process. Agamemnon, proudest and most ambitious King of Mycenae, and Meneleaus, his Brother King of Sparta, but only by dint of his marriage to (soon to be stolen away) Helen of Sparta. Most puissant Queen that mortal man had ever spawned. Original Trophy Bride, the face that launched a thousand (yet to be built) Ships. Wife of an Atreides, the King of the Spartans, mightiest Warriors ever to pick up a Spear. And not really a man who would take being cuckolded by a mere Boy Prince of some far off City with good grace.
This Queen, Helen, was the glue holding the loose confederation of Greek City States together with her dowry, her beauty, and her placement at the tip of the triumverate of powers, Sparta, Athens, and Mycenae.
Casually promised to pretty boy Paris, as his reward for Judging in favour of Aphrodite. Her of the bottomless cunt. So the greedy eyed, cock hungry Daddy's girl, gets what she wants. A fucking Apple. With Kallisti wrote upon it's golden skin.
"Cock-a-doodle me, prettiest of the three you two ugly bitches, bow down to me"
Wisdom was not this jiggly titted honey dripping slut's forte. Olympus's in house rutting whore, Hungry cunted Goddess of sluts, skanks, and cum guzzling slags everywhere with a libido that surpassed even Zeus himself. Her proudest party trick was a cock in each hole, one between her pouty lips, and one in each hand, then bringing them all to bone juddering climax simultaneously, to the enthusiastic applause of those living up the Topside. Proto-Bimbo-Barby slut guts. (Still would though, know what I mean?)
"Attagirl" Zeus would say, under his breath
because Zeus openly admiring any female that wasn't her just sent Hera off into one of her squawking rages.
Slowly, the events set into motion by these blustering bragging irresponsible Olympians were coming together, mortal man's day was here, these unconsidered playthings, whose whole existence was so carefully guarded by Foresight and his brother, Hindsight , (Prometheus and Epimethius) and bought at such price and risk from Zeus;s wrath, now had the teeth that Zeus always feared they'd have.
Now do you start to see the depth of Eris's gamesmanship? See how her carefully planned vengeance would teach them ALL to behave a little bit better? Now Zeus would really have to put the family to work! Each Olympian designated a sphere of mortal influence, having now to barter their good graces to this scurrying thing, Man, for goats and prayers and promises of fealty, and should they waver in their diligence, the balance between the triumverate Sons of Cronos, Posieden, Zeus and Hades would crumble, the Kraken would awake, and the World would be lost.
The Demigods Zeus had so carelessly spawned with any woman shaped thing his dick fancied poking, had founded the dynasties of Man's Kings, and they all looked to Olympus. They could withhold their worship, or turn away, towards other new Gods. (They even had to flee, hide in Egypt and disguise themselves with Animal heads while Heracles sorted the Titan "threat" out for them. (He freed Prometheus too) And in this way, with acts of service, Man's Heroes, Heracles, Theseus, Perseus, Bellerophon, Achilles, Atreus, Orpheus, all had Zeus's blood in them, and all founded Dynastic Houses, dedicated to their patron Gods. . . Deific inter-personal politics had to be learned by Olympus. The ages of Man grew, from Archaic, Classical, Hellenistic, slowly Greece became more and more apart from it's Gods. The mystery cults of the Orphic Mysteries, the Oracular Pythonesses, and their attendant Priesthoods now held sway, and spoke for the Gods.
Eris sits back in her rocking chair, playing Donkey Kong on her old Nintendo Gameboy, while Zeus bemoans the eventual fall of Greece to Rome, and the quick "shufty" to Romanised forms in order to survive. Eris, although Grandmother of Zeus, and older than the first thought, still as quietly powerful as ever (since her Game had never depended upon people's belief) rocks slowly, her hand rolled fag hanging from her smiling lips says
"Sack up, Boy, you had your day in the fucking sun didn't you? You did deeds, great and small, noble, and base, your name is still written in the dusty books of Epimetheus's little side project, Man,right?"
Zeus nods glumly.
"They still sacrifice to you, The Thunderer, don't they? Your bolts of lightening still get to feed you, Zeus, now and again?"
"They strap the sacrifices into a chair of wood, Grandmother. HUMAN sacrifices. They begin to show the disease of Cronos, in the way they
feed upon each other, their young, their Wars, all so senseless"
"And where did they get that trait from then? You! You sticking your priapic pecker into their women, you passed Cronos down to them,.. . They are just doing with the gene what they have to, NEED to!"
"And Zeus" said Eris, Zeus looks up. "Since when did you, an Olympian and God, the Mighty Thunderer, Zeus, first of the mighty age of Gods, since when did YOU even give a fuck?" Her eyes twinkle . . .
"Since you fucking MADE us all give a fuck, Grandmother. . . you scheming old Bitch . . .I CARE now, I feel things like . . like I suppose mortals do" Eris nodded, sagely. Waiting for her once slow witted thuggish Grandson to follow his thoughts . . .
"Are we to die like mortals too? Is that what we have come to? An Ignomious death, falling in the dirt and leaving our bones to bleach under the Sun of the next fucking SunHero the monkeys nail up?"
"What am I, some kind of Agony Aunt for your morose moody grumblings? Get up, you moody emo twat, I didn't raise me no whiny lil bastards! Well . . . I did, but you're all grown up now . . . Grown. You're big grown badass son of fucking Chaos, get up and act like it. . .
You don't like your sacrifices all Human and fried? Tell them! Make them fucking listen. You're a GOD, for God's sake. You still have a Crew of other Gods, shake them up some, get a rocket under their arses too, go and do some fucking Godding! I mean it, now get up, and fuck off! I'm sick of the sight of your droopy mawkish face!"
Zeus, stung by the rebukes, and as always, more than a little afraid of this flapping old crone (funny, she was beautiful, young, and vibrant not five minutes ago) gets up, and slouches towards the door. "Forgetting something?" She says. "I don't think so" says Zeus.
"COME HERE AND GIVE YOUR GRANNY A FUCKING KISS YOU LITTLE BASTARD" She screeches at him, all crackly fire and sour piss now, incandescent. Afraid, but more afraid of not doing her will, he kisses her . . . "And"? . . ."I love you Nan" he says, as hopeless as any other seven year old boy and his cranky old Grandmother.
"I'm proud of you Zeus, you know that? Out of all my ill-considered brats, and their own whelps, you are the one I was always so hard on (I said hard on, she giggled) You know why?" "No" he said . . .
"Because YOU were always the slowest witted, the stupidest, the dummy, the one everyone else took the piss out of. event hough you were the one that could take any three of the others on and whup their sucky arses, Zeus the Goose, what's the use? they'd sing.
You think you outwitted Posiedon? I had to get in there first and dose him up with Cough syrup and Ativan so that you'd not be the one swimming around with the fucking fishes! Pffft, Now get the fuck out, and don't come back until you've done whatever the fuck it is you're going to do . . . And when you do come back" she paused . . . "Bring us back a bottle of Harvey's Bristol Cream Love, can you?" "Yes Nan" . . . .