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i've had this song stuck in my head last coupel weeks. i think it's pretty funny. alot of irony to it. a decade of fuckign shit up, of shitting your hate. teh natural progression is to turn to jesus and stop thinking. or forget the jesus part and stop thinking. and of coruse the reaction to that is to burn it all down. you're unhappy, so you have to do your best to fuck up the shit for at the very least your neighbors.

Its just one a those days when you dont wanna wake up
Everything is fucked, everybody sucks
You dont really know why, but you wanna justify
Rrippin someones head off
No human contact, and if you interact your life is on contract
Your best bet is to stay away mother fucker
Its just wanna those days

REFRAIN:
Its all about the he said she said bull shit
I think you better quit, lettin shit slip
Or youll be leavin with a fat lip
Its all about the he said she said bull shit
I think you better quit, talkin that shit

Its just one a those days
Feelin like a fraight train
First one to complain, leaves with a blood stain
Damn right, Im a maniac
You better watch your back
Cuz im fuckin up your program
And if you feel stuck up, you just mucked up
Next in line to get ffucked up,
Your best bet is to stay away mother fucker
Its just one of those days

REFRAIN

So come and get it

I feel like shit
My suggestion is to keep your distance
Cuz right now Im dangerous
We've all felt like shit,been treated like shit
All those mother fuckers
That wanna step up

I hope you know im like a chain saw
I'll skin your ass raw
Aand if my day keeps goin this way I just might
Break something tonight (2X)
Im like a chainsaw
I'll skin your ass raw
And if my day keeps goin this way I just might
Break your fuckin face tonight

Gimmie somethin to break (3X)

How bout your fuckin face

I hope you know Im like a chainsaw (what)
A chainsaw (what)
A mother fuckin chainsaw (what)

So come and get it

REFRAIN

So come and get it

so get out there and do something. do anything. especially if it's breakign shit. because this is the orthodox better by definition discordioxy. this is the we participate in cookies and pie and then call everyone else down for it discorthodoxy. this is the i fanyone else but the Approved memberships of the anti elite non clique(sorry not taking applications for membership at this time) 169% TROOF SO BRING A BAGGY FOR YUOR TEEF! IAWTC and we've heard it all before and again and repeatedly and soem of us find it sad how you manage to sucker a enw sucker, and old sucker, the girl who hates the drama and joins int eh lynch mob and the guy who starts the shit and blames everyone else for dragging it out. because there's no reason not to be cool. there's no reason not to be on our bandwagon. and when you speak, it's for the whole forum, and when you speak it's Truth. and when you speak it is the song of saints on thei rmartyrdom. liek jesus, only bitter old and not all like jesus. unless of course, jesus treated his apostles like toys, he urged people to disurb shit for the sake of disturbing shit. because Discordian is un compromisingly the epotmy of the above song. yes, it's jsut one fo those days. yes, you are blind and deaf and dumb and born to follow. what you need is some one strong to guide you like...


well, if you don't know who wants to be your shepherd, then why do you beck at his call? afraid to be a mehum. afraid the lynh mob will roll you over? or somehow convinced that you're not doing what you're doing?


if youdon't mind, take a good look around. let it settle. do some thinking abotu it. not all at once. leave iton teh backburner. or don't take a day. or a week. or whatever. don't over do it, but give it soem time. some consideration. look at it form some angles.

remember, people who pay to know what they REALLY think, are called scientologists.

The people who tell people what they REALLY think are called subgenii.

be very afraid to be a mehum. be anything, but do not be yourself. and especially, do it at the expense of others. this is the golden path.

i support your right to oppress those that would oppress you.

j/k.


stfu you lying methhead whiny bitch loser.

these are the names of folks who in particular will dish it out, but will not any other circumstances take it.


east coast hustle(justin stain)
the good reverend roger
fn0rdiscordia(machine grind dream)
fizzywitz glorypoop(eric)

when they start bashing on you(and they willl), just ignore em. pointing out he obvious will only earn you further venom an da vicious smear campagin. even funnnier- other posters will back them up in this malicious lynch mobbing.

fair warning to the n00bz.


someone mind stickying this please? newbs have a right to know what they can expect here, adn that they need not concern them with the suggestions in the other forum, because eventually, these four will shit their hate all over you. because this is their therapy in disguise.

freinds, discordians, forum members, lend me yoru ears.


i made a big mistake.

i called soem folks a bad name. these folks of coruse didn't deserve this name. they didn't earn it.

they aren't the ones that repeatedly remidn you how your forum is dead.

these aren't the people that call you a cunt after you post.

these aren't teh people that tell each other what they really think of you in pm's while pretending to be yoru freind in public.


these aren't teh people that cannot allow you to hav ea conversation without beign the authority on it.

but remember, i am a liar.

because htese aren't teh people that start flirting with youa s soon as they learn yoru gender.

these aren;t the people that decide you're worthelss as soon as you disagree with them.

I am a Liar. you knwo this. you know that i have been lying to you with every word from day one.

because these are the people you know you've been marginalizing.

by naming a forum after them

by making them a moderator after they whien about being oprressed fo rmonths.

because i am lying.

because i am delusional.

because i am out of touch with reality.

these are teh people who thank you for hosting a forum by using it to inform people what is right. and how youa re very wrong.

these are teh people who demand they get their way.

these, are the alpha's, teh better people by definition.

these are the people who would tell you what a discordian is, andcertainly what it isn't

and if you don't like drama,then you're definitely not a discordian.

because of of course i am a liar.

i am a meth head.

i am delusional, and a smear campaigner.

i tell you what you may and may not do.

and i jump on you and follow you avcorss the interent to remind you that i am always right and you are always wrong.

remeber that, but msot of all, remember i am a liar.

good night, and good riddance.


ps, mgt, don't forget to sell teh forums to turd, i think he'd make a fine admin. really.

while you were out with soem hawt babes, i was hanging out with one fo the most annyoing people on earth, helping some freinds drink his beer and smoke his weed while pwning everyone in halo. the level design is shit, and despite never having played it before, nobody killed me for for a good half hour. they were playing drinking games, but i don't play thsoe things,so i jsut kept taking double shooters of whatever gawdawful whiskey that fool doug likes. of course i've been out of practice, so after soem gumbo, ad way too many shots, i floated home. i actualyl don't remember teh truip home, btu i do remember the gumbo takign it's revenge on my toilet when i go tback in.

all in all teh highlight fo the night was a shared w00t! among the 3 of us as we loaded up blood gulch. too bad you're stuck witha  stupid fuckin rpg, and the warthog is a piece of shit.

...it's your own trip so be my guest but please be advised that there is a warnign on that one...
-soem guy during woodstock. allegedly.



think for yoruself shmuck

-or-

you took to much too much man youo took to much man too much ...chew on a pineal gland...
- fear and loathign right inside yoru own skull.

-or-

...buy the ticket, take the trip...
-hst, on soemthing i forget.


So you've read the principia discordia and immidiately dismissed it as bullshit. you're hating on everyone who calls themselves a discordian or hangs out at discordian websites, encluding yoruself, because you hate hypocrites and you hate yourself.

or because you suck at life mroe than you suck at whatever it is you're currently deluding yoruself into beleiving your good at. or whatever.
if you're not on what 'm on a bout don't worry, neither am i. nevertheless, you've missed the mso timportant truth of th eprincipia discordia, which will not be revealed here. you'll have to find that one yoruself.

easy for you to say! you don't REALLY know. there probaly is no secret! it's all busllhit!

maybe, but mayb eit didn't make you giggle the first read through, or tantalize the ol thinking processes jsut a bit. maybe it didn't start a slow but cascading, and eventually catalcysmic reaction inyour brain chemeistry  that eventually resulted in being liek an arrow shto straigh tto hell.
that's a metaphysical metaphor btw, for teh direction one's life is sent when one starts opening one's eyes and lookign about.

iinvariably, the variables will completely fuckign confuse you. mr mother fuckign mammamoto's nose? who teh fuck cares who ate it? his brother mr momamotoa te it? no correction,  it was in fact mr. mamamoto who ate his own nose. or was it hsi brothers? and you drink coffeee for teh temperature and the sweetness of the sugar adn ceam, not the flavour. obviously. even if cold coffee is disgusting, frapacino's aside, consider that that damned pink bopok that you hide everytime someone comes over, (or possibly have long ago hidden or destroyed, preferably shat upon then  burnt) did tickle your head just a bit. maybe you still consider what hte answer may b eto the mathematical propostition forwarded in one aspect of the book which i do not care to reference by page number nor by paragraph title, if one should exist.

consider that for all teh half truths, and lies, outright, obsecene and admitted to underneath, but in juxtapostion(maybe, i forget- fuck it) to the allegedy lie blasphemy or urgings to porcreate your own species or that of otheer species, was not only a gag, but a badly planned shit disturber for th efrotnal lobe of that lovely sub molecular machine encased in that thick skull fo yours.

there is a 700 word limit
-the rules

i don't know i fi'm coming clsoe here or not, but let's say i've repealed the law that bind men and women together and keep tehm apart for the moment, and then sell the word limit into human slavery. consider that we are not only not free, but we are each destined, fated even to ahve to make teh choices we make, lament tha this is not how it's sposed top be and curse free choice. this is teh predestination we are dmaned with. this is yoru mother speaking.

you see we are not anymore alive than a car or a motehrfucking toaster is alive. we are machines. you coudl say we are the cadilac, the mercedes benz of real ultimate power, the ultimate species which controls all of us robots, the genome.

if you obey justice, move zig
-katz

this monster of a motherfucker is so unliek and alien to understanding in terms of thinking, reporducing , and doing whatever it is that they/it/she/he yo momma! does, that you will undoubtedly have better luck proving the existence of wmd's in iraq, that aliens control teh jewish nazi bankers which paid the republican party to crash that plane into the wtc on september eleventh whatever the fuck year it was, and the existence of god and his or her or whaetver gender specification yor prefer and the damn things direct interevention into our lives on a daily basis, including the horror that is touched by an angel(WEEEEEOOOOOOO!!!!)


so if i may digress, and get abck to teh matter before us, we are here, wherever we may be temporally, we aare here in this place, these forums, digitally, how we came here? probaly looking for someone to talk abotu this damend book, teh principia discordia. alot of us by now have realized that there's not much to it, and have added. some of us have felt slieghted by this inanimate object, bound in pink or yellow, and have sought to tear it down. others, simply come fo rthe cookies and pie. who are we to judge or strike them down?

talk about jesus christ as if you know the reasons why, and he did it all for you... - perfect circle

you see if jesus did come up in this motehrfucker, hed be like i forgive you, and then he'd use hsi uber powers of wrathfulness to turn us into dust, for the bible tells me so. either way, no one gets otu of here alive. so greet death smiling, and blow that ol whore a kiss. she's only doing her job like 9 out of every ten cops on the beat. get over it. we're all hurtlnig through space on this motehrfucking rock tryign to figure out double yoo tee eff is goign on, how to get ahead, for ebtter or worse, at our own expense or others. this is the tao, there's no getting around it, no confinining it further than the confinement already imposed by the soup we  swim through daily, and the time we're condemend to serve here, by our jailor, the universe. damanable as it mayu be, wether you beelive in i tor not, it is the way it is, adn that' sjst how it is. bitch and whine, it doesnt' give a damn, not because it's cruel, or mena, but because it simply is what it is.

"The most thoroughly and relentlessly Damned, banned, excluded, condemned, forbidden, ostracized, ignore, suppressed, repressed, robbed, brutalized and defamed of all Damned Things is the individual human being. The social engineers, statistician, psychologist, sociologists, market researchers, landlords, bureaucrats, captains of industry, bankers, governors, commissars, kings and presidents are perpetually forcing this Damned Thing into carefully prepared blueprints and perpetually irritated that the Damned Thing will not fit into the slot assigned it. The theologians call it a sinner and try to reform it. The governor calls it a criminal and tries to punish it. the psychologist calls it a neurotic and tries to cure it. Still, the Damned Thing will not fit into their slots. -robert anton wilson writing as hagbard celine in the illuminatus trilogy.


there is no maybe anywhere.

Code Select Expand

did he give you the word jubella?

no i cut out his toungue wnd burned his eyes with phsphur, btu he did not speak the word

many of us here would be members of the so called pd.com cabal, a community with an absentee episkopos, and a pentatiate of of powers. there is no criteria for members hip save for the first trial.

which is ever on going,maybe.

so i introduce to you the inner doctrine of teh outter circle.

there are among us the masters of this, and who we are is unknownm, perhaps even unto our own selves. and this is, so shall it be.

initiate
adept
justified
illuminate
master

are the five levels to this conspiracy.

am nto teh founder, but merely a poor sage who prefers teh brown path.

you may coem unto me and declare your will tobe master, and yet if you aren't lo i shall el oh el unto you. maybe.

for my words are silence.

it's not ture unless you laugh george, adn you don't understand it until you cry.

there is but one who is known to be adept. he has shown himself to have passed the first trial. unless i am lying.

perhaps i or the other masters, will stoop to show others as such, or unto the lower levels. or not. where you stand is often unimportant, do not hasten your climb by vexing yourself over such trivialities.

it is largely inconsequential.

we will stick apart adn work together, for this is the tao.

i say again, you may if you wish, fall unto yoruself to hear if you are higher than an adept, but lo, it is better to know, than it is to wonder aloud.
you might be surprised.

the masters illuminate and accepted among us, may not pass here often, and yet, they aare of the outside inside.

speak in silence, and do not grovel. for what i say unto you three times is a convincing argument(the secret of this is apparent).

so as it is written rings the divison bell. reverse doplar here sings the toll.


edit: i changed a name of the one of hte imaginary titles to "justified" from accepted.

he's presumes that he's bette rthan you because as a newbie stranger to these forums, he pontificated and told you how to behave and you called him names for it, which, is very childish!

you don't know his work, or anythign abotu him, so therefore he is in every position to tell you what to say or read, because you don't have the mental capacity to do it for yourself!

he will tell us what WE need, but he not of us. he is a stranger we know nothign about!

he will imply that post count is mroe than occasional amusement for us, despite obvious evidence to the contrary!


he will say, our ritulaistic and time honoured initiation into the pd.com cabal is discoruragement, and yet you have stuck around! OMFG! DID YOU IGNORE THE ROGER TO STICK AROUND?


remember tho WE ARE BULLIES! so says teh stranger who i snew and no one knows!


this will reconvened at poee.co.uk. because fuckin hate being told i'm immoral by some cunt ass moralsitic dick eating contest champion.

starting a rough sketch on a series of short stories i'd liek to write.

these are a handful of charachters i've given some thought too.
charachters:

the blind man(no name as yet)- the last warrior of a nation destoryed by the saints of(?) he wears a blind fold at all times as part of his cutlure's elite military tradition. he favours a singlesword, but is exceptionally skilel din hand to hand and becomes quickly familiar with any weapon he picks up. quiet and severe eh speaks little but is serious when doing so.probaly the main charchter otuside of the story teller. tirlessly seeks revenge agains the saints who razed his nation whole.

the frmer hero. (no name as yet) formerly the local hero in the town of falstem, as well respected as one whow oudl put himself befor eothers, but after giving his sword to the saints upon their arival became locally hated and became an alcohilic while his fellow townsfolk were slaughtered by the saints frequets teh bar in which the story teller works. joins the party secretly seeking a way to redeem hismelf, tho redemption may not be as it seems.

the brother - younger sybling whoa lways stood int eh shadow of the former hero, he pledged his sword to the saints and helped butcher his own townsfolk. it is him in particular whom teh story teller seeks her revenge.

the gnome and hte tall man - met by the party neart the twon where the wizard's tower is. although amialble an dgood humoured onjteh surface these two have ulterior agendas and join the party for convenience. the gnome is armed with a sword breaker and sticks of dynamite, alogn with a flintlock of his own design. the tall man armed with several flintlock pistolsalong with a long dagger whch can be affixed to teh barrel  of his specially designed flintlick rifle, with which he boasts the ability to hit any mark at 1000 yeards.

the boy magician - born with a gift and orphaed at a young age, the local wisman/wopman pleads with the blind man to take in the young boy so he can fulfill his destiny. he can throw fireballs by pointing at somethin, but he wants tolearn the sword. very severe boyof 14 or 15 ish(maybe16??)

the elf knight - met by th eblind man after being seperated from teh rest of the party whiel fleeing a saints patrol. he dreams of seeing the world outside his isolated elven village, and has trained with swords and bow for over a century. reticent in the elven way but considered a joker amonng elves. he befriends and join the blind man on hsi quest because he is curious about what coudl drive a man so far.

the elf sorceress - a freind fothe elf knight, she is very young for an elf, jsut 50. saves the life of the blind man by distracting the saints leading htem away after he is injured, she is the object of an obscure elf prophecy and believes th eblind man is key in fulfilling it. she keeps her relatively novice powers hidden and utilizes a bow or spear instead.

the story teller- meets ht eblidn man in teh first village(falstem) and begs that he let her coem with him as she has nothing left and cannot stand to live there anymore. he agrees and hten later asks if she would trade her lfie for vengeance. she doesn't knwo what to say but later tells him she would and he begins training her in combat.

The Law of the Internet.
or
SERIOUS FUCKING BUSINESS!

I apologize in advance as my secretary's assitant's janitor's apprentice forgot the diagrams for today's presentation.

Law #5- All "women" you meet on the internet are really 16 year old boys and 40 year old men.

Law #4- All your base are belong to us!

Law #3 The internet is shit.

Law #2 The internet is only for pr0n. any pretence to the contrary is a cover for a pr0nography addiction, and the affected user pried away from their computer- if possible.

Law #1: if you read it on the internet, you know it's true.

abotu america.

listen to the beatle's i am the walrus and wait until the near the end when it switches to musicale concrete(the sampless bit> and you will fidn yourself at the center of what became of the great republicwhy it went there and why it deserves to be as such.
oh i'll quote too.

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HAHA EVERYBODY HAHA EVERYBODY HAHA EVERYBODY HAHA EVERYBODY HAHA EVERYBODY HAHA
hwmdf's longest rant ever.

like pigs from a gun look how they run.

speak for thyself!

as Emperor of canada and protector of cuba(since a few years back! lol), and grand vizier in exile of liechtenstein(almost a full yeasr now, and stikll no response to our diplomatic packages from teh corrupt and evil regime of evil an dwweapon o fmass destructon!-probaly)i hereby declare the vast membership of these fora to be moranis dumbassinus eroticus(that latter becaus i'm, feeling horny) in ternit or until the internet starts eating small children to app-ease it's voracious appetite for inconsequential figurative posturing.

carry on with god's speed on your work gentlemen and ladies.



terry schiavo lives!

think again.


and use that fuckin noggen.

cancel your prejudices and preconceptions and try to,using multiple pov method, figure out a number of conclusions based ont eh given evidence.

if you can't com eup with more than five (if you try) they you = moran and terry schiavo is still alive motherfuckers!

then you're not listening to what i'm not saying.

use that fuckin noggen already.

get the fuck off yoru knees n00bz.

when the fuck did worshipping come into the motherfuckign equation?

i'm stupid enough to submit to Her will via the tao(which is a really exotic way of sayin g i go with the flowand am serious about being laid back). but ffs, not even i am retarded enough(and by retarded i mean forest gump minus the savant edge and sweetness factor) to do so.

Even if she wanted you to worship her, she';d jsut start kicking you in the face for giggle and for you to prove to her that you really do worship her, while you drooled at every glance in your direction. does this sound familar? maybe so, the analogy i'm draing here is as clear to me as my vision after five hit sof acid and a joint only slightly longer and wider than my penis.

ok ok, a coupel years abck i waschillin at the point of view drinking and incoems some girls i met at a party i crashed a few months before that. they sit down and we're chillin out chatting away. we get ont eh subjec tof love adn she's talking about this guy who worships her and she let's follow her around and how she fuckls with him because she knows she's got him by the balls and he reminds her of it every minute. she doesn't like him because of it, she can't find the capacity to respect someone who  would debase themselves as ssuch(and would? i agree it's mean, but wouldn't you give him a kick in the teeth just to ask forgivness for whatever it is he did to deserve it?). but she'
s mroe than happy to let him mix her drinks but none for himself, give her all his money so on and so forth.

adn that is the parable of today's article., eris, is alot like this girl i was chattign with at perry's that night, soem vain bitch who will ripp your balls off if you let her know how much of a spinless nancy boy you are by getting on your knees and fellatiating her metaphysical didlo fo worship.

so get off yoru knees motehrfuckers and parole yourselves from teh motehrfucking prisons of your fucking sexual desire/sexual image.

penis =/= brain =/= index finger.

your penis is not yoru brain is not you index finger.

we made a house
that stood on water
and made as wamp
by shitting on our front lawn
and then we pissed
upon our furniture
and wondered why
it's smlled liek a dump.

/tear

and lo the brown sage waxed and cursed the foul deeds fo the holy adn the infidel alike, and waxed and waned uponthe wearing of the moon wagglign hsi finger fiercely at it, adn the apostles gathered before what had coem together,. the last fo those who reamined, and cursed unto them, when ye meat anotehr of yer wretched granfalloon, greet them merrily with a fuck off and punch top the nose.

and with that the brown sage left the wilderness of men, giving it the middel finger and then lighting a ciggarette. and then chuckling to hismelf began whistling it's a long way to tippurary while emptying  hsi bladder.

lick my hairy balls hagbard celine.

i was walking upon the path and though t back to that timein my childhood, the fifth or seventh time i cheated edath, the 37th time i got beat up by other children, the time i won the contest and got to eat all the candy i wanted, play war on a pooltable, argue with the teachers abotu eurasia's continentisisty,, get strangled at morning vy the vblonde chick, the tim ei could look into her eyes ever again. sometimes it seems, like every moment before this one here, this one now, s just some kind o fmotherufckin illusion, liek the motherfucker at the source is just like, turning on th elight switch on and off, and giving me, altering my bits of memory or th eillusion thereof. was this already written ere to this point? or did someone else write it and i find myself finishing their sentence sitting in their chair which i rememebr as being mine but really does not belong to me at all. maybe the parable of the dog doesn't strike you that way, and maybe you've forgotten the most important warning She ever gave, tomorrow in teh courtyard by th ewater fountain children throwing stones at the old leper and life is like a merry go round.

ech thinking of cain.

<a psalm for imagineers.>

strange and silly
goes the horn
laughter blinds our choreaic fair
taste teh rotten things here
smile and dance the fire bright
burn your whole with delight
in kind winter's furnace
won't we meet
some kind of
siamese parakeet?

in to town to carve a doll
there is no writing upon the wall
clean and neat
neat and clean!
what a very shiny machine!
always moving
always today
throw away your yesterday
dare to dream
even in the mean
we wake we go
easy flow.

i prayed to eris yesterday at work. i forget what about.

later i was in teh thrd freezer grabbign some stuff, when a japan flank steak struck me from above in the skull.

<a psalm for those who walk>

run run
run araound!
dive headfirst into the ground!
ocean's virtue
fire's babe
sung by th esong teh singer isdreamed
lo once upon and ever will
chance is certain
ignore the curtain

free to roam within a prison cell
listen to the broken bell
well unto the days are gone
are we all to see the dawn

i looked into her eyes adn i was one mind and thinkign from teh metaprogrammer whiel speaking relvantly to eh matter at hand. i fear those eys ebcause it is the onyl justifiable, worthy fear to me, woman. thi soman, my mind's and heart's and body's desires wrapped in flesh andblood and spirit adn green eyes. i blinked and i fought to hold my eyes on her's. and iw as enlightened by it, as i often am, no greater an nlightemnt than any other's from any other mundane experience, as the often are. it brough t to mind another fear, the one i developed a coupelyearas ago wheni went tothe mountain. well moutnains. not some emtaphysical ellegory, i ran up that mountain, and smoked of the herb of Her root, and exhaled thebreath of Her son, andfelt the weight fo her words. i loked upon teh scene before me. hundreds ofmiles of near wilderness, moutnains which were formed of theillusions i witnssed when i tasted ofth esarement of thelsd not more than five years before, not less than 2. i saw them, adn saw the magnitdue, an dtheir majesty. for I was so smalll, and thebarest scratch of land in a universe which was infinitely larger than my ability to comprehend so large. i saw then, adn knew, adn was humble, and i coudl feel the weight fothe hundred thosuand tonnes of the slushy mixture we cal air weighing upon me. and i crawled back down from that mountain as quickly as my hands and knees woudl take me. for i feared, to the depth of my bones i feared, to look up to the sky.ti was not that my eyes burnt, it was in fact, that the feelign, that inescapable buzz that has accompanied many o fth egreat insights that have revealed themselves to the voice inside my head, accompanied everytime i looked up. i woudl automaticall y guesstimate teh disatance, nto in terms of measurement and science, but in the lonely distances, teh lifetimes and the sore feet and the heartaches and the goodbyes adn the cyalaters and the never agains and the punches to the noses that i measured their distances in. the clouds were bad enough. the stars...

good goddess teh stars. i can glance up, now, for a few moments, on as ober night. if i haven' t been sober for too long. if i am drunk, it depends, when i am stoned on teh green herbwiththered hairs... i do not dare even glance. Shecursed me to measure them thsi way,knwogni that i had no want o fquantificatoion, knowing me and knowing my fearsand my deepest secrets kept even from myself, the lies that are truths, that are happiness, that is sadness.

and so i wandered, over the hills and through te valleys, seeking, perhaps, or resting. or seeking to not seek. or simply moving because i was bidden by the chromosomes that bid me to do so. by the mtoviations and manipulations of my brain chemistry that bdi me wake up each morning, to eat and brush my teeth. to rebel against rebellion agaisnt rebllion against rebellion. a circle always. soemtiems wider, sometiems narrow to a point which ahs no circumference save as a location. a mathematicla abstraction. sometimes, adn awlays and never, with an infinite circumference adn no center.

he asked, when itold him why i feare  to look up, as i saw it at that time, at that moment ont hat night peering at teh aurora borealis spread across teh viel of the night "r--, do you fear death fear nothingness? fear what may come, what you do not know?" i lied and told him it was not so much in as that, dsilution may eba relief, whatever may coem may be a releif. maybe or a greater hell,. i did not know. i was nto a fraid, i lied again, but i was in no large rush to go back home." i sang in teh midngiht choir that night and many others. until a few weeks ago when i sang no more, for i have an ulcer, adn that method of communion, that numbe too real, and somehow fake expereicne cannto be mine for a time at least, and i have been sober int eh chemical sense for a wekk or three now, to acertain extent, as i consuem toxins, adn the thruth is., i do fear it and mnay other things. i do not fear whati cannto see, adn rish in as a fool blindly, for i am wise to trust that i will ot know all tings, andwill surive best with confidence in that darkness. adnthis amy be alie as well, a comfort to allow me to place on efoot befor ethe other tho i cannto see, and make itfrom ym stairwell to my bedroom door. tho fear of the dark, in physicality, is not mine. yet tho, i do race home, smoking my cigarettes and dreaming of immortality, whiele copmparing sunsets, lookin gfor that flash of greenand eprfection, knwoing that teh world is inf act perfect, right down to every last flaw. it is a truth i hodl dear, tho it very much is a lie again.

she said"peopel think if they acept _____ into their hearts, and ask him... their lives willbe compelte, they will instantyl lose weight, they will feel whoel and compelte and want not"(to paraprhase loosely). adn i meditated upon it, and knew it was teh jsut as i had thoughts once or twice befre, the journey adn everyman is jobe askign why and being smited for it, and this is hwo it is, a struggel teh embrace, ebb and flow, current, and udnertow. the river adn the fall, a passing moment in an hour,  pebble on the beach.

and lo, did the pilgrim come unto him, the brown sage, bowing and scraping and prostrating himself before him lamenting;
Oh ye great sagaciosu one, from whence does thy wisdom lie? impart to me, thou faithfaul pilgrim, thy knolwedge of the ages hencforth, so forthwith wisdom might be mine and the people's who ears i will lather upon with it verily.
to which the brown sage, takign a drag of a ciggarette did rply unto the pilgrim;
get the fuck off the ground mother fucker. what the flyin fuck is all this abotu then. jeez louise and her sister the tease, what are you on about? wisdom? i'll give you wisdom, ask that fine lookin lady over there with the apron if she'd be so kind to bring me another of these fine fresh badboys(gesturing symbolicaly unto his ice cold beer), and i'll give you some wisdom.
and lo, the pilgrim did do unto this, what was asked unto him by the brown sage, asking after the fine young lady with the apron on for a beer, and after recieving the gift of spirits did returneth to the brown sage, happily in his task of compeltion, asking unto the brown sage.
Oh ye, great and wise master fo the ages, virtuous in all ways and an adonis among men, impart they insight to mine ear so that i may know the splendor of thy divine knowledge, so on and so forth.
to which the brown sage did reply, after takign a hearty swig of his ice cold  lager;
i dunno any wisdom or knowldge or virtuousness or any of that hoopla, but i guess i coudl rip something off for ya. lemme think here. a man once mistook another man for god, and went up to him and asked him, "hey god, why is the sky blue" to which the other fellow, who had missed the god bit because he was adjsuting his sprinkler and misheard it for todd which oddly, was his given name,replied "i dunno man, i didn;t do it. maybe martha knows. HEY MARTHA< WHY"S THE SKY BLUE??" the last bit beign shouted into his house. martha, in reply shouted back, "BECAUSE BILL GATES IS FILTHY RICH AND HE CAN GET HSI KICKS ANYWAY HE CHOOSES. NOW STOPW ASTING TIME AND FIX THE SPRINKLER ALREADY!" hearing this, todd shrugged adn wished the passing stranger well.
and lo, did was the pilgrim enlightened, knowing not what he intended but soemthign totally unexpected adnnew,and waxed upon thsi in confusion, stumbling otu of the bar several hours later missing his left shoe.

in lieu of the article(s) i was talking abotu here, in the following, i'm posting a ocnversation between my self and our resident buddhist monk dude. there are soem subjects touched on here, he and i have been discussing lately, that i though at thetime, and upon rereading, are valubale uh things.

BMW says:
Yo horab, whatz Up?
grimwin says:
BMW. To better serve our customers, all chat histories are stored and maintained by NCsoft. If you do not agree to have your chat records stored, close the chat window now. For more information regarding this issue, please visit our home page at www.ncsoft.com.
BMW says:
Ah, playin games, are we?
BMW says:
And what does grimwin mean anyway?
grimwin says:
jsu ta name i made up
grimwin says:
iw as gonna write it into a story
grimwin says:
but never wrote the story yet
BMW says:
Cool,cool...you seem distracted.
grimwin says:
jsut got killed
grimwin says:
tried to take on too many monsters at once
BMW says:
heheh.
grimwin says:
on account some guy gave me a badass wepaon i can't use
BMW says:
Sounds like the Brown Sage to me.
grimwin says:
and i jsu tsold it for beetter armopur and sword
grimwin says:
lol
BMW says:
The further and further I go into Erisianism, not only do I become more and more confused, but I realize more and more that it is where I belong.
grimwin says:
lol
grimwin says:
well she is the goddess of confusion
grimwin says:
many ppl forget that
BMW says:
I am not bothered by the confusion.
BMW says:
Its just a side affect of getting in touch with reality.
grimwin says:
yeah
grimwin says:
reality is very confusing
grimwin says:
man yppl seem to think it's jsut baout discrod and chaos and whatnot
grimwin says:
but it's realyl mroe about confusion i think
grimwin says:
the mroe confused you become the more clarity you have
BMW says:
Meh, confusion is just the manifestation of Discord upon our psyche.
grimwin says:
yeah
BMW says:
All people live with it.
grimwin says:
it's definitely an aspec to fit
grimwin says:
and vice versa
BMW says:
But most people tend to ignore it.
grimwin says:
yeah i agree
grimwin says:
or refuse to accept it
BMW says:
I think this conversation could turn out to be a nice sermon...
grimwin says:
perhaps so
BMW says:
Hmm...
grimwin says:
iv';e been trying to write an article on thsi subject for months
BMW says:
Really? Well, then, I'll leave it to you, as your wording and spelling style will be much more eloquent than my version. ^_^
grimwin says:
well feel free dude
BMW says:
Nah, then I'd be a threadjacker.
grimwin says:
i've had soem godo insights on it lately tho
grimwin says:
the christian chick who said she thought life was simple
grimwin says:
adn verithane's latest threads
grimwin says:
and nothign wrong with thread jacking
BMW says:
Well, I don't have any of those insights, just an idea dealing with the relationship of confusion as the direct manifestation of Eris in the Psyche.
BMW says:
And thats it.
grimwin says:
possibly
grimwin says:
if you don't mind i may include this ocnversation in the article
BMW says:
Go right ahead.
BMW says:
I hope it turns out good. I know it'll be better than my writing.
grimwin says:
you shoudln't sell yorusel short
BMW says:
I do because its an excuse to not do something I dislike greatly.
grimwin says:
lol
BMW says:
I have never liked writing.
grimwin says:
well you do a good job of it for someone who does't liek to
BMW says:
Yeah, but you won't hear me admiting it.
grimwin says:
lol
grimwin says:
fair enough
BMW says:
Besides, I like reading what other people write far more.
grimwin says:
soemtimes i do sometimes i don't
BMW says:
I do. I read all the time. And have been since before I can remember.
BMW says:
I was reading 500 page adult novels by third grade.
grimwin says:
yeah me too
grimwin says:
but in 2nd
grimwin says:
i read jurassic park in 3rd
grimwin says:
lol
BMW says:
Same here!
BMW says:
Oh, I told you that...sorry.
BMW says:
I repeat...myself.
grimwin says:
i almso tfaield1st grade because my teacher didn't think i coudl read or write properly
grimwin says:
no worries i do all the time
grimwin says:
what's eatign you dude?
grimwin says:
you seem rathe rself depricatory lately
BMW says:
Oh, Its just my life right now. Im trying to find a place for myself.
BMW says:
And I don't mean a house.
grimwin says:
yeah i hear ya
grimwin says:
nto the easiest part o fth ejourney
grimwin says:
btu not the hardest either
BMW says:
And Im alwasy self depricatory, I just don't show it around aquaintances.
BMW says:
Only around people who really know me do I show brutal lack of self esteem.
grimwin says:
well you've jsu tbeen more so than usual
grimwin says:
lol
BMW says:
Ive been thinking.
grimwin says:
i'm sorta the opposite i guess
grimwin says:
btu i don't really care about my self esteem
grimwin says:
but go on dude
BMW says:
I don't know, Ive just been thinking. I know that Im missing physical relationships right now, and that is something I need. After my last girlfriend broke up with me (which is a story of self depriciation in itself) I lost an important pillar of my emotional self.
BMW says:
And Im still trying to figure out if I should go looking for something to fill it, or just wait on it for a year or two.
grimwin says:
yeah i hear that
grimwin says:
iv' ebeen thinkign on the same subject myself
grimwin says:
and what i'm going to do about it, and what i'm willign to do about it
grimwin says:
and so on
grimwin says:
and able as well
BMW says:
And then, when I consider going out and looking, then the weight falls from the ceiling and I am forced to remember all my past relationships where, not only was I the one dumped on the corner, but it was because I screwed up because Im a clingy, needy bastard.
BMW says:
Plus the fact that I tend to hurt the ones I love.
grimwin says:
well nobody moves and nobody gets hurt man
BMW says:
?
BMW says:
What does that mean?
grimwin says:
meditate on it
grimwin says:
i can't give you that answer
grimwin says:
btu when i went mad i had that saem concern
grimwin says:
and i meditated heavily on that catechism
grimwin says:
and i think it helped a great deal
BMW says:
Okay. I will meditate upon it.
BMW says:
And on another note, Ive been real tired recently, partly because I have become sleep deprived and energy deprived over these last few weeks of classes.
BMW says:
And the constant checking of the web forums, of course. I think it is becoming my life...the social part, anyway.
grimwin says:
yeah
grimwin says:
it's a big part of mine
grimwin says:
but sincei started th enew job i'v ebeen so brain dead from work i've just been skimming
BMW says:
I try not to, even tho' its my natural inclination.
grimwin says:
i'vebeen too taired to even play coutnerstriek much or half decent this past week
BMW says:
But sometimes you kinda have to, I mean, to search through all the fluff to get to the good stuff.
grimwin says:
i need to start smokign weed againa nd give my midn a rest
BMW says:
Too tired for counterstrike?
grimwin says:
yeah
BMW says:
Man...that suxor.
grimwin says:
i've been really sucking when i have played
grimwin says:
new mmorpg is a good sub tho
grimwin says:
don't ahve to have reflexes either
grimwin says:
jsut click on things
BMW says:
Or instead of smoking you could eat it...better for ya.
grimwin says:
lol
grimwin says:
i liek to smoke
BMW says:
Why?
grimwin says:
even cigs 90% of th etime
BMW says:
Why do you liek to smoke?
grimwin says:
ltos fo reasons
grimwin says:
none good
BMW says:
Well, at least you have reasons.
grimwin says:
i spsoe
grimwin says:
as far acigs go it's jsut very poor excuses
grimwin says:
fordope
grimwin says:
i used to have reasons
grimwin says:
i spose
grimwin says:
but now i admit it's 60% for pleasure
grimwin says:
30% for sleep
grimwin says:
/brain relaxation(once th eprimary buzz wears off)
grimwin says:
and 10% sagacious/mystic
BMW says:
lol
grimwin says:
used to be alot more for mystic/sagacious than 10%
grimwin says:
and added religion in there too
grimwin says:
but that's anoteh rarticle i want to write
BMW says:
So THATS where you get those awesome phycadelic poems from!
grimwin says:
lol
grimwin says:
i thin k when i wrote those i was largely sober
grimwin says:
abotu a year after i quit acid
grimwin says:
less than a year
grimwin says:
and had quit weed out of lack of money an djob and stuff
grimwin says:
was jsut banging around stuff
BMW says:
Oh...
grimwin says:
i uaully cant' really write when stoned
grimwin says:
at all
grimwin says:
i can draw
grimwin says:
write music
grimwin says:
btu not write
BMW says:
Well, you could always scan and post some of your drawing... or some of your music.
grimwin says:
wel the music i usually jsu tused to bang aroudn on my gear
grimwin says:
dont' have that so much available
grimwin says:
nto realyl into music as much as i once was
grimwin says:
drawing
grimwin says:
yeah
grimwin says:
i'll get aroudn to scannign mroe of it sometime
BMW says:
That would be cool.
grimwin says:
it tends tobe rather psycahdelic
grimwin says:
if not in quality then in concpet
grimwin says:
havent' done much of that lately
grimwin says:
been msotly concentratignon writing
BMW says:
*sigh*
BMW says:
Im in awe of a person who can just let his life flow with the Chao.
grimwin says:
and photography
grimwin says:
lol
grimwin says:
i have no choice really
grimwin says:
which is to say i made my choice and will live and abide by it
BMW says:
Well, still, I think about the fact that you earn your living at where ever you can get it, and then you create in your free time. I don't know, I once would have though such a life would be crappy. But I see you living it and obviously enjoying what you are.
grimwin says:
well i enjoy it to the extent that i can
BMW says:
Maybe its just how I was brought up.
grimwin says:
i don't think it;s for everyone but it';s good fo rme
grimwin says:
in some ways it realyl limits me
grimwin says:
adn whati can do in life
grimwin says:
it's hard to get a gf at my age with no car or driver';s lic.
grimwin says:
but i want niether a car or a driver lic.
grimwin says:
hard to have a family with none fo those things
grimwin says:
or even jsu twithout a car an ddriver license
grimwin says:
let aloen a goo dpaying job that provides for th t family
grimwin says:
i knew when i decided to becoem a monk o  our lady, it would be impoverished an d submitting to her will
grimwin says:
maybe i didn't know it as well as i ahve come to
grimwin says:
but that is essentially what monasticism is all about
BMW says:
You really are a Discordian monk.
grimwin says:
lol
grimwin says:
yeah
BMW says:
Thats cool.
grimwin says:
oen of the few things in life i'm very serious about
grimwin says:
ikn a way
BMW says:
So, how am I doing as a wannabe?
grimwin says:
alright in my books
grimwin says:
no one can set the terms of your monasticsm and your journey but you and Her
grimwin says:
so to say
BMW says:
Hmmm...that makes sense.
grimwin says:
and only you can be the judge of your measure
BMW says:
I think my study monasticism will be focused on the study of the connection of Chaos between the human and non-human relm of Terra.
BMW says:
Or something leik that.
grimwin says:
perhaps so
grimwin says:
you;ll fidn yoru way wether you realize it or nto
grimwin says:
with or withotuquantification
BMW says:
True.
BMW says:
Eris guides us in subtle ways.
grimwin says:
yes in mysteriosu ways
grimwin says:
jsut liek the u2 song
BMW says:
What, "She moves in mysterious ways"?
grimwin says:
yeah
grimwin says:
nto a hug efan of u2 either
BMW says:
Me either.
BMW says:
But I like that song.
grimwin says:
and bono is teh sux0r
grimwin says:
fuckin bono
grimwin says:
do you save logs on you msn?
BMW says:
Yes.
grimwin says:
can you email this one?
BMW says:
At least, the good ones.
BMW says:
Yes I can.
grimwin says:
i dunno if conversations in game will eb saved like normal
grimwin says:
cool
BMW says:
Okay, its almost one here, Im gonna go to sleep now.
grimwin says:
ok
grimwin says:
ngith dude
grimwin says:
and taker easy eh
BMW says:
Goodnight.
BMW says:
I will.

keep in mind, in regards to thebit about it being between you and Her, one must be honest with one's self, totally. if you refuse to be honest, you're essentially walking backwards whiel tellign yoruself you are walking forwards, until you beleive you are doing th eopposite of what it is in reality you are doing, and are unabel to distinguish from reality and your perceptions(whioch may or may not be the same thing).

anyone remember that part of shrodinger's cat trilogy where there's a dinner aprt with soem scientists a pirate and a buddhist monk and the monk's only purpose in life is to say on eline at the party? and his contentment with the knowlesdge of it being so?

probaly bullshit, but in it lies an important analogy.

you're purpose in life is to be doign whatever it is youv'e done and are doign and will do, whatever that may or may nto be, for better or worse, better or worse often being interchangable depending on perception and theperceptual effect on the observers and so on and so forth, as causlaity bounces in and wave forms turn yoru presense in this existence into a further out reachign wave deal interacting with other wave deals, ebbs and flows and cancel outs an dpeacks and synergetic dynamicty and all that fancy schmancy whatnot.

have faith!


for wether or nto it's a roll of the dice for Her or part of Her masterplan, let us remidn oruselves that in and of itself for now and ever as far as we can be concerned is this life and our existence in it. be content or nto be angry, be happy, be blisful or be however you want to be, or simpyl are, or how others want you, if that's what you want, for even if it is all her fault, adn it's all pre-destiny, then we still ahve the illusion of Free Choice, and so that whatever choice we make is pre-destined, we still are responsible ourselves fo rth echoices, and that's ht eway it is, catch 22 or not, because the catch 22 is an illusion, a philosphical detbate of the mind. which may or may not relate significantly to what is improtant, but that's nto important here. the point is, well i will quote everyone's favourite middle class sammy davis jr loving racist:

what is is; what will be, will be; what was was

i was at a chinese buffet the other day, a man came up to the buffet at the saem time as me, he said "how
s it goin?" i said not bad, you?" he said, cant' complain, not that it'd matter anyway, because even if they listen they don't really care, and if if they do care, they're nto really listening"

this may or may nto be true, but maybe that was tha tman's purpose in life, to tell me that over a chinese buffet in ogden calgary. i mean fuckin eh eh?

anyone remember that part of shrodinger's cat trilogy where there's a dinner aprt with soem scientists a pirate and a buddhist monk and the monk's only purpose in life is to say on eline at the party? and his contentment with the knowlesdge of it being so?

probaly bullshit, but in it lies an important analogy.

you're purpose in life is to be doign whatever it is youv'e done and are doign and will do, whatever that may or may nto be, for better or worse, better or worse often being interchangable depending on perception and theperceptual effect on the observers and so on and so forth, as causlaity bounces in and wave forms turn yoru presense in this existence into a further out reachign wave deal interacting with other wave deals, ebbs and flows and cancel outs an dpeacks and synergetic dynamicty and all that fancy schmancy whatnot.

have faith!


for wether or nto it's a roll of the dice for Her or

let us remidn oruselves that in and of itself for now and ever as far as we can be concerned is this life and our existence in it. be content or nto be angry, be happy, be blisful or be however you want to be, or simpyl are, or how others want you, if that's what you want, for even if it is all her fault, adn it's all pre-destiny, then we still ahve the illusion of Free Choice, and so that whatever choice we make is pre-destined, we still are responsible ourselves fo rth echoices, and that's ht eway it is, catch 22 or not, because the catch 22 is an illusion, a philosphical detbate of the mind. which may or may not relate significantly to what is improtant, but that's nto important here. the point is, well i will quote everyone's favourite middle class sammy davis jr loving racist:

what is is; what will be, will be; what was was

i was at a chinese buffet the other day, a man came up to the buffet at the saem time as me, he said "how
s it goin?" i said not bad, you?" he said, cant' complain, not that it'd matter anyway, because even if they listen they don't really care, and if if they do care, they're nto really listening"

this may or may nto be true, but maybe that was tha tman's purpose in life, to tell me that over a chinese buffet in ogden calgary. i mean fuckin eh eh?

ok so i caughthte last half hour of the new doctor who series on teh space station this evening while doing laundry at my mom's house.

wow. they really fucked the goat on this one.

let me begin by saying that this wasn;t all bad. the doctor admitted he had been drunk udner the table by the british prime minister on previous visits to 10 dowling st or whatever it's called. eat my shorts "gallifreyans can't get drunk" miss ag comp :P tho i half suspect they stole that directly from me, as i said on these very bards that that was teh maner in which i got him to sell teh tardis from me many years from now/ago. which is niether here nor there. that was the good.

here comes the bad.

the plot was well udner way by the time it had gotten to teh bit i tuned in on, i'm assuming. there was some pig on a table, and some lady runnign after the doctor, who mysteriously disapeared only to reshow up several minutes later for no apparent reasonthan to antagonize the companion an dher associates(motehr boyfreind etc). perhaps this will be explained int eh next episode, or perhaps it was explained before i tuned in, with luck we'll never know.

and the ugly.

well i'll start with thenot so ugly ugly. aside fromt eh badly photoshopped logo on teh advertisement cut screne, the graphics were simply, tripe. no, scrap that, tripe isn't strong enough a word, and frankly it's an insult to tripe. these special effects owuld've looked bad in an 80's sci fi b film. i daresay the special effects featured int eh older series' were cosniderably better.

adn the horrible abomnably disfgured ugly-
teh tardis interior. allow me to compare the interior of the tardis, the new interior, yes new, to that of the reverse side of genric mounstide prop #4 from star trek tos. you didn't misread that, i mean the side you don't see on the television. it's a lovely shade of vomit green, through out,with instead of miscaleanously mysterious knobs and dials and instrument panels an dbutton and whatnot, we get soem levers and a flatscreen monitor. all int eh same shade of vomit green. in one scene we see the doctor foolin about soem circuit boards that could very well be 56k modems pressed together, msot certainyl because they rpobaly are, with what is aparently a plastic model deflsher, sans blade. mho: they should've stuck with the original interior set.

so in closing, i suggest a great deal fo alcohol and marijuana when viewign this abomination. i'm gonna go write to bbc or whoever owns it for a remake of Space 1999.

nto as so much a rant, btu on fluff, cookies and pie, putting one's foot in one;s mouth, and beign frstrated by the way.

2
WHEN all the world recognizes beauty as beauty,
this in itself is ugliness.
When all the world recognizes good as good, this in
itself is evil.

Indeed, the hidden and the manifest give birth to each other.
Difficult and easy complement each other.
Long and short exhibit each other.
High and low set measure to each other.
Voice and sound harmonize each other.
Back and front follow each other.

Therefore, the Sage manages his affairs without ado,
And spreads his teaching without talking.
He denies nothing to the teeming things.
He rears them, but lays no claim to them.
He does his work, but sets no store by it.
He accomplishes his task, but does not dwell upon it.

And yet it is just because he does not dwell on it
That nobody can ever take it away from him.

-lao tzu, translated by C. H. Wu(shambhala pocket edition.)

ch.0

i suddenly found myself in the flesh, sitting on a toilet in a stall in some washroom. i wiped my ass and pulle dup my pants. she has soem kinda sense of humour thats for sure. i gently prod at the door. solid. in the flesh. double yoo tee eff i mutter, and unlatch it. i take a look at the mirror. and i need a shave. the suit is decent, and i can feel the waeight of nancy on my kidney. trusty nancy, with her by my side i could take ont eh paniverse. but one thign at a time. i wash my hand and splash water on my face, run my fingers through my hair. i'm balder and i need a shave, but it's all good. it's been years since i've aged, or had flesh to age, so no complaints. dryignmy hands on the bleached mulched flesh of a tree, i walk out the door and on down the hall. a bar or a public house, it's dark and a karaoke machine is being weilded by a japanese man who is givign his heart and soul to love me tender while elvis is rolling somersaults in his grave. i saddle up on a stool and nod at the waitress. she gives me a smile and i giver a wink. canadian i drawl, and she crouches to a fridge under the bar and poppnig off the lid passes me ice cold sunshine. i give her a smile and thanks, and take a swig.
a smoke appears from midair held out by a striking woman with dark red brown almost brown or black and eyes fierce and soft and seductive and everythign in between, i take the smoke without a word and without taking my eyes off of hers, knwoign a man could lose himself in them or even die from them.
you're looking well H, not even gonna say hello?
hey babe, i've never felt better, cept when i ws dead.
well what's tehuse of a dead god when only flesh will do?
cut to the chase sister, we don't got all night.
you're right we got eternity and a half H, why don't you go sign a song for me?
the karaoke impressario shouts onhis mike "strangerinteh brown suit, come on up an dsing a tune for us tonight!" i i glare at Her and mozie on over, i say to him house of the rising sun? it's nto a question and hte rhtmic music is pullsing as i lay upon th emic with a voice remincnesent of a biker scraping across a hundred meters of pavement praying the girl on teh back goes quick, tears on my eyes as teh feeling washesout teh rapture of ten thousand apocalypses. i put the mic back after muttering my thanks to a crowd that didn't hear a word, and go back over to my stool.
did i ever tell you you have the saddest eyes i've ever seen H?
i'm sure you didn;t call me back to seduce me babe, so give me the good word already.
I need a hero H, the world needs a hero. you know any sueprheros H?
if i see any i'll eb sure to ysend em your way.
Someoen you knwo needs a superhero H, you always gonna walk away?


when i stumbled outta th ebar 6 hours later, i didn't know wherei was going, but i knew where i was going, straight into the abysmal depths of eternal hell.

[AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH]

my oh my we dropped two tabs and teh walls started moving, i found myself sitting in a booth a karaoke apocalypse vibratign all around me and a dimefull of dozens of drinks consumed simulataneous by pinkfleshpots to congest their systems satisfactorly. the bald guy with the moustache gets up and falls down, head bleedign and women screaming, and i yell out cackling, soemone give that man some pants damn you! paul said rab your'e up and i got up and unleashed soem roadhouse blues and time shifted adn the singularity formed in the middle of the dance floor, deleting sprites from teh matrix in the blink of the eye, and holly was complimenting my fashion sense and i met carl again for the 6th time. and of course crystal was oddly, and the new waitress says come in on monday and we'll chat. ohhh kay i say, but i'm broke babe, but i'll see what you can do. never endear yourself to a woman who knopws she's beautful, the only way to deal with that sort is to play it cool then sing hey jude followed by comfortably numb in near mumbles ceopt fro teh screma when you unleash a whoel fuckin AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH which of coruse catches them off guard and makes them look wide eyed as i smile  crooked and mellow eyed, sharp minded. yes that is the way i designed it.

[/code]

sisters, brothers, edible pets, and inteligent wildlife,

i am confused.

i know, i know, this comes as no surpise to you, the heathen faithful.

but i ahve a question, what exactly is the cookies and pei you are referign to?

and what has cookies and/or pie ever done to you?

i mean, cookies tend to be, soem sort of flour and possibly egg based hard small cake deal thing, roundish, soemtimes with cohcalate chips, i spose it depends on you really, pies a sort of crust filled with delicious fruit filling, or whatever comes tomind, such as blackbirds or small children, and covered in a softer crust, or the same crust, i never really worked that one out myself.

or, what, she's talkign to me again, thank ya eris, hell yeah!

she's told me cookies and pie are the non serious discussion that take place on any given message board ont eh interent.

such as word games, or rambling, meanderign discussions, that travel over the hills and under the valleys, sitting on trees that anotehr threadmay have pissed on, and laughing alot.

well what exactly is wrong with that?

are we sposed to go around and discuss not funny things and try to be not funny or lighthearted? andbe very serious and grumpy an d say "hey this world sucks, let's blow it up! or soemthign to that effect?

i'm nto really sure. and she keeps distracting me with tickles and giggles and hey you don't touch me there when i'm typing please. thanks.

because you see, it's all fine and stuff to want toinitiate and carry through with a change, but then the last two world wars were helluva a change and many though tthey'd seen the end of war.

but boy were tehy wrong. there's still racists in germany, an d in adition, there's alot of really kinky shit there too, which would make the most promiscuous vampire sadomasochists in north america red with embarrasment. i spsoe that's nto really what teh allies had intended, btu it's popular these days. sex on tv and the like, wage slavery and image, andallt eh at stuff. in fact, in many ways you coudl say we've taken a step or few back from world war two, and from one, or not. i'm not really sure, you see it's all backwards and sideways from then, but scertainyl there has been a lot of positive change or ot.

who can say?

oh, she says i'm going off topic here. ouch!

ahh where was i cookeis and pie?

well i don't really get it. i'm nto so sure if it's so much a discordian thing, as msot of the places i've been to, uh forums i mean, on this internet deal thing, were largely uh silly games and meanderign discussions ebtween peopel who were by all appearances freinds. soemof these message baord forum things even had uh seriosu sections. now these uh serious sectosn really scare me, they're home to people who are imppassioned, peopel, who have a cause or who care. and most of all tehse people are idiots. seriously. tehse places fill up with htread s with names like"do you think george dubya bush is jsutified in invading iraq" which is followed by a psot telling you wetheror not he was, and why, and often with the worst of reason. often these sorts of threads degrade into soem sort of general anti or pro americanism, or anti and pro whateverism. or jsut anti whateverism, or pro whateverism.


ladies and gentlebeigs of the jury i present exhibit a (which after a glance looks alot milder than when i was there, posting icnredibly obnoxiosu things, includin- in a thread discussing the validity of homosexuality, "if i were gay, i'd shove a shotgun up my ass and pull the trigger", however, i didn;t lookat the religious section, which was at many times, a haven for anti religion atheists to chasitze and poor soul who wandered in)

of course, if you go to exhibit b you may notice quite  aidfference int eh attitude and atmosphere, tho it's all cookie's and pie.

these may eb bad examples. i stay away fromt eh place. i pissed off pretty much all the decent posters with my obnoxiousness, btu hey it is a video game forum, adn that is what they're there for.

of coruse by that same token, i was a troll, in the purest sense, me and soem kingdom mates woudl go on down whiel chattign on irc and give awesoem advice to n00bs, and flame idiots who gave terribel wrong advice, we'd maek fun of them by giving baltantly bad advice, adnworse have them agree with teh bad stuff, game related, we'd go and join serious discussions and give retarded arguments, often int eh fom stated above near ex. b. my kd mates, were a cross section of the world americans, candians europeans, we all got a great kick out of it, and enlightened absolutely nobody. well maybe one or two folks, but we got our kicks, any way, and temp banned quite often.

but then it wasn;t my backyard, iw as trollign someone' else's community, where it was someone else beign retarded, close minded, open minded with no one soprtign, or drivign as it were, adn the like.

and so it comes down to the thign that killed 23ae. was it really a database crash? or was it soem guy who argued passionately that everyone tehre was a bleeding hear tliberal? was it the other guy who posted werid ass ad peppered posts? was ti the fella who posted photoshoped pens art collages?

i dunjno man, but ti certainyl wasn't cthulu, or cookies, or pie.

nto that i'm worried abotu this baord dying. this baord will eb alive and well long after i no longer have the interent for soem reason or ayother, long after the interent explodes from too many blogs, and too little pr0n.
verily, will many thigns come to pass.

what the fuck are you on about horab?

i dunno man, i'm pretty confused.

ARE YOU THERE?
ARE YOU REAL?
I SAW YOU'RE PCITURE, YOU ARE HAWT, BUT HWO THE FUCK ARE YOU?
FRECKLES, FRECKLES ARE HAWT, YOU VOICE IS HAWTI

IDIDN;T SE EIANY OF YOU'R EMOVIESI'M TOO CHEAP AND TOO GENROUS TO WATCH YOUR MOVIES

BUT, I WILL SEND YOU A PICTURE OFTHE SUN.

whoah caps lock dude,. wtf?

i can japan motherfucker. you gonna test? good, i hoped so, now let's have some not sushi burgas. let's eat american food and pretend it's foreign and exotic, let's enjoy the cultural expereince of living where we live here and now in our time now and here. 20 yeara go? way too late. the radio? wher eis it? i can't see it! you don't understand. or maybe you do. if you'r readinthis, you probaly don't knwo how to contact me,if you're readin this,you proably don't klnwo where to look, or maybe you do, and maybe this isn't an illusion, a carpet rolel dover waht is by thsoe mdaned fuckin ggarnde gnomes and their hideous plots to subservuate the flowers an dht epeple san dthe movinig things!

no, you are to late, that was 23 years ago, and 3 months and 15 days.

yes, i can japan too motherfuckers.

if you haven't read james joyce's portrait of the artist as a young man
i totally recomend it, great book. a great isnight into a great many things.

if the chirstians are at all right, here's adescriptor of what we may expect.

Time passed.

He sat again in the front bench of the chapel. The daylight without was already failing and, as it fell slowly through the dull red blinds, it seemed that the sun of the last day was going down and that all souls were being gathered for the judgement.

-- I am cast away from the sight of Thine eyes: words taken, my dear little brothers in Christ, from the Book of Psalms, thirtieth chapter, twenty-third verse. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

The preacher began to speak in a quiet friendly tone. His face was kind and he joined gently the fingers of each hand, forming a frail cage by the union of their tips.

-- This morning we endeavoured, in our reflection upon hell, to make what our holy founder calls in his book of spiritual exercises, the composition of place. We endeavoured, that is, to imagine with the senses of the mind, in our imagination, the material character of that awful place and of the physical torments which all who are in hell endure. This evening we shall consider for a few moments the nature of the spiritual torments of hell.

-- Sin, remember, is a twofold enormity. It is a base consent to the promptings of our corrupt nature to the lower instincts, to that which is gross and beast-like; and it is also a turning away from the counsel of our higher nature, from all that is pure and holy, from the Holy God Himself. For this reason mortal sin is punished in hell by two different forms of punishment, physical and spiritual.

Now of all these spiritual pains by far the greatest is the pain of loss, so great, in fact, that in itself it is a torment greater than all the others. Saint Thomas, the greatest doctor of the church, the angelic doctor, as he is called, says that the worst damnation consists in this, that the understanding of man is totally deprived of divine light and his affection obstinately turned away from the goodness of God. God, remember, is a being infinitely good, and therefore the loss of such a being must be a loss infinitely painful. In this life we have not a very clear idea of what such a loss must be, but the damned in hell, for their greater torment, have a full understanding of that which they have lost, and understand that they have lost it through their own sins and have lost it for ever. At the very instant of death the bonds of the flesh are broken asunder and the soul at once flies towards God as towards the centre of her existence. Remember, my dear little boys, our souls long to be with God. We come from God, we live by God, we belong to God: we are His, inalienably His. God loves with a divine love every human soul, and every human soul lives in that love. How could it be otherwise? Every breath that we draw, every thought of our brain, every instant of life proceeds from God's inexhaustible goodness. And if it be pain for a mother to be parted from her child, for a man to be exiled from hearth and home, for friend to be sundered from friend, O think what pain, what anguish it must be for the poor soul to be spurned from the presence of the supremely good and loving Creator Who has called that soul into existence from nothingness and sustained it in life and loved it with an immeasurable love. This, then, to be separated for ever from its greatest good, from God, and to feel the anguish of that separation, knowing full well that it is unchangeable: this is the greatest torment which the created soul is capable of bearing, poena damni, the pain of loss.

The second pain which will afflict the souls of the damned in hell is the pain of conscience. Just as in dead bodies worms are engendered by putrefaction, so in the souls of the lost there arises a perpetual remorse from the putrefaction of sin, the sting of conscience, the worm, as Pope Innocent the Third calls it, of the triple sting. The first sting inflicted by this cruel worm will be the memory of past pleasures. O what a dreadful memory will that be! In the lake of all-devouring flame the proud king will remember the pomps of his court, the wise but wicked man his libraries and instruments of research, the lover of artistic pleasures his marbles and pictures and other art treasures, he who delighted in the pleasures of the table his gorgeous feasts, his dishes prepared with such delicacy, his choice wines; the miser will remember his hoard of gold, the robber his ill-gotten wealth, the angry and revengeful and merciless murderers their deeds of blood and violence in which they revelled, the impure and adulterous the unspeakable and filthy pleasures in which they delighted. They will remember all this and loathe themselves and their sins. For how miserable will all those pleasures seem to the soul condemned to suffer in hellfire for ages and ages. How they will rage and fume to think that they have lost the bliss of heaven for the dross of earth, for a few pieces of metal, for vain honours, for bodily comforts, for a tingling of the nerves. They will repent indeed: and this is the second sting of the worm of conscience, a late and fruitless sorrow for sins committed. Divine justice insists that the understanding of those miserable wretches be fixed continually on the sins of which they were guilty, and moreover, as saint Augustine points out, God will impart to them His own knowledge of sin, so that sin will appear to them in all its hideous malice as it appears to the eyes of God Himself. They will behold their sins in all their foulness and repent but it will be too late and then they will bewail the good occasions which they neglected. This is the last and deepest and most cruel sting of the worm of conscience. The conscience will say: You had time and opportunity to repent and would not. You were brought up religiously by your parents. You had the sacraments and grace and indulgences of the church to aid you. You had the minister of God to preach to you, to call you back when you had strayed, to forgive you your sins, no matter how many, how abominable, if only you had confessed and repented. No. You would not. You flouted the ministers of holy religion, you turned your back on the confessional, you wallowed deeper and deeper in the mire of sin. God appealed to you, threatened you, entreated you to return to Him. O, what shame, what misery! The Ruler of the universe entreated you, a creature of clay, to love Him Who made you and to keep His law. No. You would not. And now, though you were to flood all hell with your tears if you could still weep, all that sea of repentance would not gain for you what a single tear of true repentance shed during your mortal life would have gained for you. You implore now a moment of earthly life wherein to repent: In vain. That time is gone: gone for ever.

-- Such is the threefold sting of conscience, the viper which gnaws the very heart's core of the wretches in hell, so that filled with hellish fury they curse themselves for their folly and curse the evil companions who have brought them to such ruin and curse the devils who tempted them in life and now mock them in eternity and even revile and curse the Supreme Being Whose goodness and patience they scorned and slighted but Whose justice and power they cannot evade.

-- The next spiritual pain to which the damned are subjected is the pain of extension. Man, in this earthly life, though he be capable of many evils, is not capable of them all at once, inasmuch as one evil corrects and counteracts another just as one poison frequently corrects another. In hell, on the contrary, one torment, instead of counteracting another, lends it still greater force: and, moreover, as the internal faculties are more perfect than the external senses, so are they more capable of suffering. Just as every sense is afflicted with a fitting torment, so is every spiritual faculty; the fancy with horrible images, the sensitive faculty with alternate longing and rage, the mind and understanding with an interior darkness more terrible even than the exterior darkness which reigns in that dreadful prison. The malice, impotent though it be, which possesses these demon souls is an evil of boundless extension, of limitless duration, a frightful state of wickedness which we can scarcely realize unless we bear in mind the enormity of sin and the hatred God bears to it.

-- Opposed to this pain of extension and yet coexistent with it we have the pain of intensity. Hell is the centre of evils and, as you know, things are more intense at their centres than at their remotest points. There are no contraries or admixtures of any kind to temper or soften in the least the pains of hell. Nay, things which are good in themselves become evil in hell. Company, elsewhere a source of comfort to the afflicted, will be there a continual torment: knowledge, so much longed for as the chief good of the intellect, will there be hated worse than ignorance: light, so much coveted by all creatures from the lord of creation down to the humblest plant in the forest, will be loathed intensely. In this life our sorrows are either not very long or not very great because nature either overcomes them by habits or puts an end to them by sinking under their weight. But in hell the torments cannot be overcome by habit, for while they are of terrible intensity they are at the same time of continual variety, each pain, so to speak, taking fire from another and re-endowing that which has enkindled it with a still fiercer flame. Nor can nature escape from these intense and various tortures by succumbing to them for the soul is sustained and maintained in evil so that its suffering may be the greater. Boundless extension of torment, incredible intensity of suffering, unceasing variety of torture - this is what the divine majesty, so outraged by sinners, demands; this is what the holiness of heaven, slighted and set aside for the lustful and low pleasures of the corrupt flesh, requires; this is what the blood of the innocent Lamb of God, shed for the redemption of sinners, trampled upon by the vilest of the vile, insists upon.

-- Last and crowning torture of all the tortures of that awful place is the eternity of hell. Eternity! O, dread and dire word. Eternity! What mind of man can understand it? And remember, it is an eternity of pain. Even though the pains of hell were not so terrible as they are, yet they would become infinite, as they are destined to last for ever. But while they are everlasting they are at the same time, as you know, intolerably intense, unbearably extensive. To bear even the sting of an insect for all eternity would be a dreadful torment. What must it be, then, to bear the manifold tortures of hell for ever? For ever! For all eternity! Not for a year or for an age but for ever. Try to imagine the awful meaning of this. You have often seen the sand on the seashore. How fine are its tiny grains! And how many of those tiny little grains go to make up the small handful which a child grasps in its play. Now imagine a mountain of that sand, a million miles high, reaching from the earth to the farthest heavens, and a million miles broad, extending to remotest space, and a million miles in thickness; and imagine such an enormous mass of countless particles of sand multiplied as often as there are leaves in the forest, drops of water in the mighty ocean, feathers on birds, scales on fish, hairs on animals, atoms in the vast expanse of the air: and imagine that at the end of every million years a little bird came to that mountain and carried away in its beak a tiny grain of that sand. How many millions upon millions of centuries would pass before that bird had carried away even a square foot of that mountain, how many eons upon eons of ages before it had carried away all? Yet at the end of that immense stretch of time not even one instant of eternity could be said to have ended. At the end of all those billions and trillions of years eternity would have scarcely begun. And if that mountain rose again after it had been all carried away, and if the bird came again and carried it all away again grain by grain, and if it so rose and sank as many times as there are stars in the sky, atoms in the air, drops of water in the sea, leaves on the trees, feathers upon birds, scales upon fish, hairs upon animals, at the end of all those innumerable risings and sinkings of that immeasurably vast mountain not one single instant of eternity could be said to have ended; even then, at the end of such a period, after that eon of time the mere thought of which makes our very brain reel dizzily, eternity would scarcely have begun.

-- A holy saint (one of our own fathers I believe it was) was once vouchsafed a vision of hell. It seemed to him that he stood in the midst of a great hall, dark and silent save for the ticking of a great clock. The ticking went on unceasingly; and it seemed to this saint that the sound of the ticking was the ceaseless repetition of the words - ever, never; ever, never. Ever to be in hell, never to be in heaven; ever to be shut off from the presence of God, never to enjoy the beatific vision; ever to be eaten with flames, gnawed by vermin, goaded with burning spikes, never to be free from those pains; ever to have the conscience upbraid one, the memory enrage, the mind filled with darkness and despair, never to escape; ever to curse and revile the foul demons who gloat fiendishly over the misery of their dupes, never to behold the shining raiment of the blessed spirits; ever to cry out of the abyss of fire to God for an instant, a single instant, of respite from such awful agony, never to receive, even for an instant, God's pardon; ever to suffer, never to enjoy; ever to be damned, never to be saved; ever, never; ever, never. O, what a dreadful punishment! An eternity of endless agony, of endless bodily and spiritual torment, without one ray of hope, without one moment of cessation, of agony limitless in intensity, of torment infinitely varied, of torture that sustains eternally that which it eternally devours, of anguish that everlastingly preys upon the spirit while it racks the flesh, an eternity, every instant of which is itself an eternity of woe. Such is the terrible punishment decreed for those who die in mortal sin by an almighty and a just God.

-- Yes, a just God! Men, reasoning always as men, are astonished that God should mete out an everlasting and infinite punishment in the fires of hell for a single grievous sin. They reason thus because, blinded by the gross illusion of the flesh and the darkness of human understanding, they are unable to comprehend the hideous malice of mortal sin. They reason thus because they are unable to comprehend that even venial sin is of such a foul and hideous nature that even if the omnipotent Creator could end all the evil and misery in the world, the wars, the diseases, the robberies, the crimes, the deaths, the murders, on condition that he allowed a single venial sin to pass unpunished, a single venial sin, a lie, an angry look, a moment of wilful sloth, He, the great omnipotent God could not do so because sin, be it in thought or deed, is a transgression of His law and God would not be God if He did not punish the transgressor.

-- A sin, an instant of rebellious pride of the intellect, made Lucifer and a third part of the cohort of angels fall from their glory. A sin, an instant of folly and weakness, drove Adam and Eve out of Eden and brought death and suffering into the world. To retrieve the consequences of that sin the Only Begotten Son of God came down to earth, lived and suffered and died a most painful death, hanging for three hours on the cross.

-- O, my dear little brethren in Christ Jesus, will we then offend that good Redeemer and provoke His anger? Will we trample again upon that torn and mangled corpse? Will we spit upon that face so full of sorrow and love? Will we too, like the cruel jews and the brutal soldiers, mock that gentle and compassionate Saviour Who trod alone for our sake the awful wine-press of sorrow? Every word of sin is a wound in His tender side. Every sinful act is a thorn piercing His head. Every impure thought, deliberately yielded to, is a keen lance transfixing that sacred and loving heart. No, no. It is impossible for any human being to do that which offends so deeply the divine majesty, that which is punished by an eternity of agony, that which crucifies again the Son of God and makes a mockery of Him.

-- I pray to God that my poor words may have availed today to confirm in holiness those who are in a state of grace, to strengthen the wavering, to lead back to the state of grace the poor soul that has strayed if any such be among you. I pray to God, and do you pray with me, that we may repent of our sins. I will ask you now, all of you, to repeat after me the act of contrition, kneeling here in this humble chapel in the presence of God. He is there in the tabernacle burning with love for mankind, ready to comfort the afflicted. Be not afraid. No matter how many or how foul the sins if you only repent of them they will be forgiven you. Let no worldly shame hold you back. God is still the merciful Lord who wishes not the eternal death of the sinner but rather that he be converted and live.

-- He calls you to Him. You are His. He made you out of nothing. He loved you as only a God can love. His arms are open to receive you even though you have sinned against Him. Come to Him, poor sinner, poor vain and erring sinner. Now is the acceptable time. Now is the hour.

The priest rose and, turning towards the altar, knelt upon the step before the tabernacle in the fallen gloom. He waited till all in the chapel had knelt and every least noise was still. Then, raising his head, he repeated the act of contrition, phrase by phrase, with fervour. The boys answered him phrase by phrase. Stephen, his tongue cleaving to his palate, bowed his head, praying with his heart.

-- O my God! --
-- O my God! --
-- I am heartily sorry --
-- I am heartily sorry --
-- for having offended Thee --
-- for having offended Thee --
-- and I detest my sins --
-- and I detest my sins --
-- above every other evil --
-- above every other evil --
-- because they displease Thee, my God --
-- because they displease Thee, my God --
-- Who art so deserving --
-- Who art so deserving --
-- of all my love --
-- of all my love --
-- and I firmly purpose --
-- and I firmly purpose --
-- by Thy holy grace --
-- by Thy holy grace --
-- never more to offend Thee --
-- never more to offend Thee --
-- and to amend my life --
-- and to amend my life --


He went up to his room after dinner in order to be alone with his soul, and at every step his soul seemed to sigh; at every step his soul mounted with his feet, sighing in the ascent, through a region of viscid gloom.

my apologies for the length of it.
see yall in hell!

say it.

jsut fucking say it already. everyone invloved, get it the fuck out there.

what i did to that poor eric fellow was brutal, but at least it was honest.

it was childish, it was malign.

what's going on, what's been going on is worse.

dont' post it in pm's, post it here, dont' talk no bullshit about bush or poltics or savign the world. post waht you see to be teh truth about it.

or don't.

or tell me to leave if that's what you want. i'm not really sure, but this is looking like a good way to see that done, tho don't take that as a threat either. i'll go because i don't liek the noise. i liek msot of the folks here, i liek how because of the forum name and address, new and strange peopel come here now and then, and some of them stick around for a while.

i have nothing more to say on this to anyone- except

if you think this crap is a midnfuck, it's not, it's teh same old workplace drama that ruined, or at the very least impaired my lame ass burga career, my own responsibility not with standing, it's nto funny, it's nto thought provoking, it's the same shit why my parents are divorced. it's shit i cant; stand in people. i can very well damn well understand peopel ebign touchy at teach otehr, i can very well damnwell understand my own part it in it, you've got soemthign to say to me, i am all ears. or eyes. i'm touchy too at times, butthis was outta hadn before, it's outta hand again.

and no, this isn;t about me. but i'm the only reference post i'm weilling to sacrifice, the only reference i'm know well enough.

i may be a fuckign madman, but at least i have the balls to say it.

:/

the date is undecied, but me and hoshi have decied to tie the ol knot as it were. she willeb the nija, i will eb the lumberjack, we need a minsiter or pastor or episkopos to priside. everyone is invted but you msut bring cookies and get drunk, and bring us beeer and cookies. the wedding cermony will eb followed shortly after by the happy couple being divorced, from which i will receive a beer, adn hoshi will get soem tofu. also everyoen ahs to get drunk twice, as per the pre-nuptial agreement.

shock1 :
VERB:   1. To deprive of courage or the power to act as a result of fear, anxiety, or disgust: appall, consternate, daunt, dismay, horrify, shake. See FEAR. 2. To affect with a strong feeling of moral aversion: scandalize. See RIGHT. 3. To cause to experience a sudden momentary shock: electrify, jolt, startle. See EXCITE, SURPRISE. 4. To inflict physical or mental injury or distress on: traumatize, wound. See HELP.
terror:
NOUN:   Great agitation and anxiety caused by the expectation or the realization of danger: affright, alarm, apprehension, dread, fear, fearfulness, fright, funk, horror, panic, trepidation. Slang : cold feet. Idioms: fear and trembling. See FEAR.
ths man is a terrorist:

faced with a choice between poverty and joining the cause, he is recruited into a cell and sent to training school where he isbroken down mentally and physically and rebuilt into a fanatic   a killing machine willing to sacrifice his life to destroy the livelyhoods of others at the whim of a few madmen.
When men on the chessboard get up and tell you where to go...
And you've just have some kind of mushroom and your mind is moving low.

Go ask Alice I think she'll know
When logic and proportion have fallenly dead.
And the white knight is talking backwards and the red queen's off with her head
Remember what the dormouse said

Feed your head

in development here. but ok as follows:

the episkopos: we have been brought together today not just to get drunk and have a good time, but to witness the death of this happy couple by matrimony.

marriage is the sort of thing that one does not enter into lightly. verily, it's the sort of thing one is dragged into kicking and screaming and trying to hold onto door frames and the like.

(to the bride): do you wish to marry this poor sunnuvabitch, to cook him dinner from time to time sleep withhim at least once a week, to tell him who really wears the pants in this family and spends the money?

(bride):yes

(the epeiskopos): ouch.

(to the groom): do you wish to marry this poor woman, to slave away at your job then come home to do chores, to give her foot messages, and call things cute, to never come home drunk or late and stuff?

(groom): sure

(episkopos):shittybuzz for you n00b!

marriage is a plague, a blight upon society. in yoru time to gether, you will argue, you will do it, you will put up with each other's bullshit, and you will bitch and nag at eachother. you may have children, which will jsut make thign even more exciting. msot of all you will forever be d00med to n00blarosity, wether by juxtaposition proposition, or by your adolescent offfspring. worse you'll have to change diapers, and not have sex with other people anymore. truly marriage is teh sux0r.

by th epower invwested in my by She who's Five Fingered Hand Moves What Is, and the (province/state) of (province/state name) i pronounce you husband and wife until the raputre and even after that unto the 200and fiftieth millionith generation of cockroach thereafter. may eris have mercy on your souls. sim sim sala bim bam b00m abracadbra!~ gimem a beer

(bride hands the episkopos a beer)

gimme a smoke

(groom hands episkopos a smoke then lights it)

let's get drunk.

(the activity degnerates.)

i thinki got th elink from ehre, it was in my favourites, so i signed up and scriblled on their forums.

i'm going to steal their women to add to the glory of teh bsoms of our lady of confusion and uber teh hawtness!

i created the loonie to punish the canadians for the sin of celine dione, that their pockets may wear out mor equickly than normal, and know mywrath.

eris hjas jsut told me the following:

margerine is sick.

such as it is, it is divine writ, for verily, so on and so forth, un'er o'er gratem.

I,His totally awesomeness, Horab wilmachin mikarion danger Fibslager. Emperor oF canada and protector of mexico, do hereby claim for the empire of canada and protectorate of cuba, the formerly soverign nation of Liechtenstein. may all tehir base are belong to us at least until 2050.

[discordianism]

i am confused. maybe i'm not a discordian after all. all these folks that keep saying thing about discordianicity seem to subscribe to assholism rather than marveling at the counterpushpull of the hodge podge, which in it's incestual lust creates teh vibes we call strife, discord, chaos, whihc push against order and control. or something.i always had the impression it was about havign a laugh, being funny in an odd sorta way, sending people weird letters for kicks, writing on dollar bills and altering billboards. not making some poor janitor somewhere have to clean up soem pile of shit because you plugged the toilet, not attacking other people's view jsut for them having them. i think it has mmore to do with pies and cookies than killing and rudeness. i think it's great that soem of yall are realizing where america is going, and that's great. some of us don't live there. soem of us don't care. soem of us are doing things, and some of us are doing nothing. and it is all good. i mean it's not for  any of us to judge, and how coudl we, given the evidence?

there was apoint to that, but i forget now. oh yes, this is discordianism not assholism.
if you don't want to leave high school, that's fine.

defiling the graves of ancient trees,
i'll bring you to your knees,
flesh of this,
flesh of that
prejudicial dish
in judgement you sat
let she who is without
pierce me now
and drink of my water
and feast of my bread
for now
only i walk among the dead
wandering spirit
trapped in a cage
mindful always of the
tenthousand plagues!
the perfect state
in full bloom stagnates.

i've been trying to write about this for a long timewithotu givign anything away. the story is rich and complex, so it's very dificult task to say what it's about, aside from sayign there is no filthy pointy eared culry shoed devilish bastard elves in it. so here is this fromt eh website isntead:

The Wheel of Time turns and Ages come and pass. What was, what will be, and what is, may yet fall under the Shadow. Let the Dragon ride again on the winds of time.

With this phrase, millions of readers have entered a world strikingly real, rich in detail and complexity,Äîthe world of Robert Jordan's The Wheel of Time. A world of kings, queens, and Aes Sedai,Äîwomen who can tap the True Source and wield the One Power, which turns the Wheel and drives the universe: a world where the war between Light and Shadow is fought every day.

At the moment of Creation, the Creator bound the Dark One away from the world of humankind, but more than three thousand years ago, Aes Sedai, then both men and women, unknowingly bored into that prison outside of time. The Dark One was able to touch the world only lightly before the hole was soon sealed over. But the Dark One's taint settled on saidin, the male half of the Power, and every male Aes Sedai went mad. In the Breaking of the World they destroyed civilization and changed the very face of the earth, sinking mountains beneath the sea and bringing new seas where land had been.

Now only women bear the title Aes Sedai. Commanded by their Amyrlin Seat and divided into seven Ajahs named by color, they rule the great island city of Tar Valon, where their White Tower stands, and are bound by the Three Oaths, fixed into their bones with saidar, the female half of the Power: To speak no word that is not true, to make no weapon for one man to kill another, and never to use the One Power against another except as a weapon against Shadowspawn or, in the last extreme, of defending her own life or that of her Warder or another sister.

Men still are born who can learn to channel the Power, or worse, who will channel one day whether they try to or not. Doomed to madness, destruction, and death by the taint of the saidin, they are hunted down by the Aes Sedai and gentled, cut off forever from the Power for the safety of the world. No man goes to this willingly. Even if they survive the hunt, they seldom survive long after gentling.

For more than three thousand years, while empires rose and fell, nothing has been so feared as a man who can channel. But for all those three thousand years there have been the Prophecies of the Dragon, that the seal of the Dark One's prison will weaken and he will touch the world once more, and the Dragon, who sealed up that hole, will be Reborn to face the Dark One again. A child, born in sight of Tar Valon on the slopes of Dragonmount, will grow up to be the Dragon Reborn, the only hope of humanity in the Last Battle.

A world of kings and queens, nations and wars, where the White Tower rules only Tar Valon but even kings and queens are wary of Aes Sedai machinations. A world where the Shadow and the Prophecies loom together.

This is the world Robert Jordan invites all to enter. This is the world of The Wheel of Time.

i think turd'll back me up here when i say this is a damned good series, worthy of many, many long hours on the couch or udner a tree reading while everyone else is wasting time doing stuff. i want them to mak ean mmorpg out of it, because i think more than any other series of books or universe, this sotry would make a great setting for roleplaying.

Like infinity unfolding
The space between opens up
The sky's maw grins wide
And the heavens spill themselves
Upon the manifestation of my mind

I open my eyes as i fall awake
A normal oddity, a common rarity
No longer do i drown in the sunshine of your Smile

Cast adrift upon the endless tides of a forever Ocean
I land upon Your beautiful shores
Shipwrecked forevermore
Isolated within the the island of your
Love

I will ask for much
But never for more

originally posted at jasidog.com
from teh "drunk philosopher colelction(what i'm callign the series of stuff that the waking #xyz poems are from today)

i will woo alanis morrisette into shagging me. how? i will tell her that despite not likign her music, she is teh hawt baez0r, and goddess told me it is my holy mission to give her pleasure.

hoefully this turns out better than hte quest for the 2 foot tall 3 elbowed midget...