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We are at the cusp of something truly amazing. We are, each and every one of us, are at the perfect place and the perfect time to seize what is ours.

Can feel it?

Can you feel the wave of success coming our way?

Not just for us humble devotees to the cause, but for all those carrying the burden of living in developed world. It is a burden because the weight of providing a model for lesser nations, a goal they may through earnest effort and prudence one day achieve, is a heavy one. I'd love to speak on the successes of these other nations but they, through apathy and a strong lack of the internal fires which propel the worthy (I presume) have none to speak of.

Instead we focus on the civilized world where out efforts will be of lasting value. It is here, after all, where value is measured. Our meticulously cared for and well regulated markets, our constantly refined methods of production, and our pride filled sense of service are the stuff of dreams to nations who find themselves impoverished. They hold the light of their civilization to ours and strive to attain the brightness we have been given.

Though to be fair, there are those among us, friends and neighbors, who find themselves unable to rise to the heights that Providence has set for us who are blessed enough to experience True Freedom and Prosperity. These filthy piles of scum cannot rise above the surface they skim along, collecting whatever they can scrape off and sit in disfigured silence waiting for their next opportunity to feed. They will never have the capacity to do so, despite the subtle and profound urges of Providence, because they reject the gifts we have earned through faith.

You have seen them. Slovenly dressed, rude and insolent manner, disgusting habits and no sense of taste or hint of sophistication.

Make no mistake: Their failure weighs us down.

We all have our roles to play in this world. Those dispersed in lesser nations play theirs, and we ours. They produce, we enjoy. Our demand is their windfall. This is elementary.

But those who cannot enjoy the fruits provided due to inability to demand appropriately are very simply DOING IT WRONG. It doesn't even make sense. Why wouldn't you want a 50-inch flat screen television? Why wouldn't you want an X-Box as well as a PS3 and a Wii for the kids? Why would you go without cable TV if you CAN afford it?

Why would anyone reject the ability to earn enough to afford it?

This does not help the developing world. We are their shining star, we lead them to a better tomorrow. If our light fails where will they turn to? The answer is clear.

There are some of us who see the clear solution, a fast, simple, and expedient method to eliminate the problem. With significant finality.

However those methods are not for the delicate and there are too many among is without the stomach for serious work.

But do not fear. These loafers, these failures will disappear on their own. As the brightness of civilization grows and grows their kind will not be able to withstand it. They will reach for that light, or they will burn in it.

NOW is the time. Do YOUR part. Be civilized! Attain! WIN!

OR KILL THEM.

Except I can't. It's just too fucking easy.

Easy for them:

Let's not kid ourselves, there are people who really do go along with The Program, the one set out there. You know the one. Each and every one of us uses little programs every day, sometimes we're even smart enough to write our own. Which is cool, like brewing your own beer or writing your own stories. It's good for you, you learn a lot. No reason not to, really.

But don't think it's going stop people from drinking Budweiser like it was gonna run out tomorrow. Just as it's easier (for me anyway) to spot bullshit than Truth, it's easier to see the things and people and places that will always and forever go with the flow, help push that flow along.

I used to rage at these people and avoided them at all cost and that cost was great, because there is no clear line between us and them and even the pinkest of pinks have that good old fashioned human value. Even the real douche-baggy ones. Besides, they're fun. Like mutant, rabid, drunk kittens.


Easy for us:

Let's not kid ourselves, even those of us here who don't work for The Man help the big flow and none of us are going to stop it. And any one of us can fall into it with ease, poise and grace without even realizing it.

Then again, most Discordians I know, whether self-proclaimed or those Discordians who have no idea what the fuck you're talking about but boy do they argue like a champ and like to fight, are very naturally resistant to that sort of living. That's another reason why those sharp divides between us and them are worthless.

I snuggled up close to Them, made some friends*, actively took part in some of their lives, I raged directly in their faces and made them think I was kidding because they were already giving me looks. And I realized, after a year, that I was slowly becoming one of them.

It's all too easy to say you're too tired to shatter the dominant paradigm or rage at the violence inherent in the system.

But oh man, I just yanked myself right out of there. And just in time, I was in deep. hadn't realized how deep, and I'm not going back in because it's just as terrible as I remember. And warm.


*With the violent, lazy, and uncomfortable drunken ones as it turns out.

[health]

Nobody knows what the hell health means.

1.
the general condition of the body or mind with reference to soundness and vigor: good health; poor health.
2.
soundness of body or mind; freedom from disease or ailment: to have one's health; to lose one's health.
3.
a polite or complimentary wish for a person's health, happiness, etc., especially as a toast: We drank a health to our guest of honor.

General, soundness and complimentary being the key words.

The WHO defines it as:

A state of complete physical, mental, and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity.

Jesus. Seriously? Social well-being, too? I am most certainly in poor health. I think we all are.

What bothers me most about that definition is that it's too open to interpretation. Both undereducated and self-assure quacks as well as over-paid men and women who should hardly be allowed the honor of wearing a white lab coat take advantage of it. That may be the nature of the beast but it still bugs the fuck out of me. It also raises the question of what the hell the medical industry thinks they're doing.

There isn't a single person that can tell me our dependence and dealings with insurance companies is contributing to our positive mental health. Or much, much worse, our inability to depend on and deal with them, the price paid for daring to be too poor to place bets on our inevitably fragile bodies. Don't get me started on the nature of geriatric care (before even considering the abuse recently mentioned). Do you know how much dermatologists make? Do you know how much geriatric physicians make? Hint: Think north and south poles.

And hell, we in the civilized world have it good.
We have all the supplies and knowledge and ability to provide substantial benefits to the body and outstanding overall health. Sure, there's the unwillingness on individuals to take advantage of those things. I could sure use some more cardio in my life.

That's certainly part of the problem, a big part.
We don't want health, we want to be healthy naturally. With, I dunno, a pill or something.

But then what the hell are we trying to say when we say healthy?

Definitions are good, I like them. When they work. Those above don't do it for me. I doubt I'd get one that would satisfy me because it's not really the definition but our collective perspective that bugs me.

SOMEONE I SENT THIS WAY CALLED PD A BIG CIRCLEJERK.

I couldn't let that slide.

I destroyed that MOTHERFUCKER, but not without some sacrifice:















The Terrible God of the Frozen North does not Fuck Around.


















Cornea Corrosion after an abrasion didn't heal after my GF jabbed me for tickling her. Good thing it's the lazy eye. I did the same thing to my mom when I was a toddler and it opened up ten years later, hurt as much then as the first time she said.



ETA: SRSLY though, someone I sent here called y'all a circlejerk. I thought...uh, I guess you didn't read the newsfeeds. Or much else.

My understanding is we're not supposed to discriminate against people of different religions solely because they're a part of a certain faith. And generally I agree.

We all have people in our lives who do not share our values, morals, silly beliefs (just about everyone has SOME kind of silly belief floating around). Sometimes their funny hats are simply shaped differently than ours. And that's OK.

You can't go around assigning unwarranted values to people just because they believe in fairy-tales. I can't go around saying "I fucking HATE Christians. All of them, they oughtta be launched into the sun right along with Mac users." My sister is one for chrissake. A Christian, that is.

And yet...

Sitting at home with various progeny:

"Hey guess what?" says Mah Boy#1, age 5, without looking up from a coloring book.

"What?" says I.

"You should choose your friends carefully."

"Now that is some stellar advice, buddy. Did you learn that at school?"

"Yep! And you know what else?"

"What?"

"When you look at other people's private parts God turns your heart black." He says.

Neither words nor smilies can properly explain my emotion at this time.

I explain to him, at length, that that simply isn't true and he was being lied to. Adults can look at other adult's private parts when they both want to (he starts shaking his head violently, I persist) but kids cannot. They need to wait until blah blah blah.

He wonders why he was lied to.

"Because they don't think you're smart enough to understand this, buddy. But I think you are VERY smart and want you to understand this."

SO, not a little bit but very much enraged I go to the Korean Open-Door Presbyterian daycare* called ...wait for it...Morning Star Christian School** and ask the teacher very calmly "What the shit?"

The teacher says her hands are tied, she doesn't agree with it but that's what they have written out in the books they teach from, the ones the school issues or uses from a network of Korean Open-Door Presbyterian churches I suppose.

This place, much like other churches I am very familiar with in town, instituionlizes needless shame from the very moment children are capable of understanding it.

And sure, if Wiccans had enough organization or focus or sheer numbers they would probably accomplish the same just different. See: points raised in gender thread RE: ending up eating your own bullshit.

But they DON'T. Even if it's because they CAN'T they DON'T right now.

So I don't worry about Wiccans. Or other minor and/or stupid religions. I worry about the one's with numbers and money and a history of fucking shit up while saving you. I would never want to take away their right to teach children that an invisible man in the sky will blacken your heart and turn you into an evil subhuman because you dared to look at another person's junk. That would be wrong, right?

But they genuinely scare me.

The lady that runs that daycare is the nicest and smiliest person you could ever meet. Until she saw me reading a book on Tarot a few years ago. That smile dropped like a sack of bass. What would she do if she had the opportunity to impose those values on all aspects of my life? What kind of real life consequences does an imagination (or lack of) like that dream up for the black-hearted? History is pretty clear there, humans of all types and faiths do all kinds of fucked up shit.

I treat them all equally, but I fear some more than others. And I suppose that's discrimination too.

I'm OK with that.

OR KILL ME.







*Look, I know I get to choose where my kids go to daycare. Except I can't. It's not just my choice, and that coupled with convenience (not mine) laziness (again, not mine) and money (sigh) I have to use this daycare right now. I would love a different one but...at least he's safe at this one. Quality, affordable non-cult daycare with two openings is hard to find in Anchorage, kay? Plus, this one is going to public school this fall where I'm sure the quality of his education will improve. Ha. Ha.

**What in the FUCK is up with that? Their translations can NOT be that bad? No Christian, no Human is so stupid as to...well, nevermind.

...but a bounce. 

Far from being bored or mad because you're all DOIN' IT WRONG I love this place. I find interesting and funny and wonderfully horrible things everyday. 

Aaand that's just the problem. I've been slacking hardcore and lack focus at the best of times. I need to finish my book. I need to start finishing my book. Ive cut out Facebook, I've cut out most of my social circle. This place draws so much of my attention. 

I'm posting this here in the hope that if I show my face a multitude of spags will rain down an ocean of shit and ask me what in the fuck I'm doing here when I have a Christ ton of writing to do. 

Also, I wanted to let Roger know that I haven't forgotten my Holy Quest, I just don't do things well unless I put a lot into them. 

I'll drop by with some rants and such when the only other option involves mass violence and suffering. 

I've been here over a year and have gained so much perspective and feel that I've got my head on somewhat straight after living for years in a mental fog. 

I LOVE YOU PD. 

And I'll be back. Maybe with more substance. 

Eris is not here strictly for your amusement. Sure, if you can get on the joke that's swell. But not required for the smooth-running bowels of Discordia.

So many people, including myself, fail to understand Eris.

I saw her just this night. Eris came to me and spoke and she said:

"FASTER you whiney little bitch, FASTER."

2 minutes before I had been deeply immersed in Batman and Legos. I was fatigued, sore sinuses and ears, worn down from a days worth of a very curious childs questions. I was enjoing an oreoandthenBAM THE TOILET IS VOMITING.

It's overflowing with a days worth of sewage onto the floor, the chain is bound and holding up that damned rubber piece again which has been making it run the pump a-motherfucking-gain causing a never ending cascade of filth.

I put my hand in the tank to hold down the stopper to stop the flow of water. Of well water. Of Alaskan well water on a very cold march night. Once the tank is full and I'm sure the stopper is in there good I grab the plunger. After cramming into the bowl of filth and hammering it a few times NOTHING HAPPENS.

It's then, when I'm brutalitizing that toilet with the plunger, an overflow of fury attacking that piece of porcelain shit spewing shit, THEN I see her. Well, hear her. I hear Eris laughing at me, the voice is rising out of the toilet and she's laughing at me and saying:

"That's right FASTER! This is what you signed up for right? And the mess outside? And the mess inside everyone else? That's what you wanted, otherwise you wouldn't have called me."

I asked her, "You're never around when I need you, where is it that you go when you're away?"

She said, "Shut your goddamned mouth! You think this is some kind of namby-pamby footsteps in the sand moment? Are we gonna fucking hug now? You want me help you wif your wittle pwobwems? Here let me help you with that."

AND the stopper pops back out because my dumbass didn't bother to readjust the chain when I had the chance. AND the overflowing again AND the filth.

AND that's right where Eris is. She is not the kind of deity that DOES SHIT for you. She's not supposed to. It's always YOU looking for HER. She's THAT kind of lady. The places you can't find her are the one's you are afraid to go.

Discordia is one's own, and we all See Her a bit differently, but most of us are here because we see her a little bit the same. And the fact remains that the things you learn here are things you look for.

So look, if you can. The Ugly, The Weird, The Horrible. That shit is everywhere, it's overflowing.

I know you love this holiday, and while I said last year that I would grin like a genuinely unwell person and bear it, prop it up with my bones and spew it back onto an unsuspecting public, I no longer have any obligation to do so. I was going go do that for my family because I didn't want to be the only person around hate-shitting, and I didn't want to hate-shit on people I cared about too much. My ass was getting cold hanging out there by it's lonesome. 

And now that I'm back in retail I can RIGHTEOUSLY hate this holiday and it feels good. The sludge cup I just had is fueling that fire. 

BUT there is one thing I need for this Christmas. For every Christmas. Everyone I know needs it too, even if they don't realize. 

I need that video of yours. I can't find it. Could I trouble you to repost it? Please?

Jesus fucking christ, SRSLY?

A) You take the one religion that doesn't require anyone's approval or any community and you talk about it? What's there to say that would matter? You're fucking up my reason for avoiding social dynamics.

B) Whatta pack of assholes.

As in another flavor.
As opposed to bitter, or sweet, or sour.

And that saltiness preserves me dammit.

I can be too much of one thing. But I can avoid those other course flavors with ease.
Bitterness being distasteful to me. Sweetness becoming tiresome and ultimately painful. Sourness having its obvious and immediate faults.

I stick with the salty.

I don't have any other words to further this point and for that I am sorry.
Maybe I should just keep it to myself but for now it's all I have.
Overwhelming, undeniable, coating my tongue forever and ever.

You.

Yeah YOU.

The one topped off with righteous indignation over having your junk groped or exposed for a TSA goon's phone camera. You think your whiny little Facebook posts are going to do anything more than offer your dying soul a brief reprieve from the overwhelming helplessness that is your waking nightmare of a life?



Oh man, YOU have no IDEA how much joy that brings me.
Listen, I know you just got to the party, but I've been expecting this since the very day of 9/11. And the REASON why I knew this was coming is because I've had my eye on YOU.

YOU let this happen.
YOU have sat back for the last nine years in maybe the most comfortable war America has ever been engaged in.
YOU let people go and die for no good goddamnned reason in the wrong goddamned country for reasons that you snidely brush aside as you focus on your precious and pathetic sense of wholesome security.
YOU watched as the TSA popped up and began their little theatre with ZERO complaints until BOOHOOHOO you had to take your shoes off.
YOU ignored all the people who would sweep by security with whatever they felt like bringing through, or picked it out of trash cans the TSA just left sitting there.
YOU didn't even notice that kind of thing to ignore it.

And now, NOW, after YOU comfortably gave away OUR liberties, now that the Wrong Man is in the White House and you don't want your junk fondled...well...now you're angry.

Well, not really angry. YOU lost the ability to feel anything like real anger a long time ago.

Bland, bland righteous indignation is all you have left.

I have news for you, friend. I'M not going to let YOU enjoy it. Your righteousness is weak and it fills me with a kind of rage you couldn't taste if you were eating it out my asshole. And I'm going to dump it all over you any chance I can get, because it's what you've earned.

Oh and BTW, even if you could get angry, it wouldn't do you any good. See, I've been angry since day one and it hasn't done any good. What do you think YOU can do about it now? YOU don't have tools or weaponry to fight this war. YOU are all done.

Fuck YOU.

OR KILL ME.

[FURRY!]

I don't really get along with men.

Ive been a misandrist for many many years. Though maybe that's not the right word, it's not hatred exactly. More like paralysing fear. It manifests as cold indifference, a wall of vague contempt for anyone with extra meaty bits between their legs. Beneath that lies a fear I can't describe because everytime I think about men my mind gets all tangled.

Coming here, with a bunch of strapping, often competitive, very confident in word and deed men has been nervewracking for me, but also eyeopening.

Anyhow, considering my feelings toward men in general one could see the difficulty in being sexually attracted to them. Not to mention the fact that I AM ONE. I've never had a boyfriend and those that thought they were were treated poorly by me in many ways. I got to enjoy the power I could exert over men using my sexuality MUCH more than actual sex with them.

So, in a constant battle to fight my near instinctual habits of avoiding, belittling, ignoring, and rejecting men I have made a special effort to get to know men better, to try to understand them better, to understand myself better.

So I gay.com, and manhunt, and now grindr it because I can't manage to talk to them in meatspace without my tongue turning into a shoe. And now, with babies, and the baggage of being a 26 year old without ever having a boyfriend and unable to ever give up on women...I find a man.

He's my type, short-n-hairy, funny, cute, confident and capable.

He knows just how to talk to me.

He's perfect.

He's....a...mother....FUCKING.....FURRY!

I didn't want to post this in that fail thread. I didn't want to come off pedantic and plus...well the smell in there is atrocious.

When I post from my phone the little icon shows me posting from a PC. If I start a topic it shows me posting from my phone. From what I've observed other smartphones always show up as a phone.

Is my IP address the same when I post from my phone no matter where I'm at on the network?
Of course it would be different using wifi.

First, watch THIS:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yY3CehyfUko






















Sorry,

Then watch THIS:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TcoekyMCWzg

Well, wanted anyway.

Cross posting 'cause, you know, I'm making signs tonight and want to see if you spags want to join the fun and Apple Talk is where the Hot Action is.
http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=22907.0

I enjoy calamari. I enjoy fried foods of all shapes and sizes and it'll probably kill me in the end considering my family history.

Anyhow, I ordered some tonight to go along with the beer I was drinking and it was the chewiest, nastiest li'l baby squid I've ever had. Blech. Gonna get a cheeseburger NAO.

My question is WTF happened? What does this to delicious food? How does one prepare calamari properly?

You know, all I really want from anyone in the whole world....























is a bunch of really gay unicorns.

1. Forget texting, I know asking you to refrain from doing EVERYTHING while driving is a waste of time. If the fact that you're more likely to kill someone doing that than if you were drunk won't stop you (and it won't) nothing will.
However, if you could restrict your activites to stoplights and stopsigns, I think that would be just super. Really, anytime you can find to use your phone when the car is not moving is just top- notch.

2. The Internet and vast social networks, while awesome, useful, and providing of important human experiences are not to be favored over real, meat-space life events to the point of absurdity or detriment to your health and/or interpersonal relationships. The balance between the two is easier to maintain on a computer because you can walk into another room and leave it. When it's tiny, in your pocket, and used heavily for multifarious purposes it's more difficult to let go.
OR
Won't somebody PLEASE think of the children!?!


3. You probably use your phone as an alarm clock. Regardless, when you go to bed set the phone away. Don't sleep with the fucking thing. That's when it drinks your soul.

4. Stop your self-righteous, holier-than-thou, my phone is better because of *blank* and this other ones are STOOOPIDNEENERNEENER horseshit. Nobody cares and you sound like a douche. These things are little miracles even when they're pieces of crap. Use your miracle, do good deeds, STFU.

5. Meals are important. See 2.


EDIT: For less really fucking stupid. 

Just 'cause they're human, don't mean they're 'murrican.
       \


This gay conservative pastor I know (lol) posted this charming picture on his FB:


I haven't yet gotten to the point of telling him it was a damned good thing those fences weren't around America's borders when those beagles came over from Britain, otherwise this country might look a little different, but I'm working on it.

That isn't to say I know what the hell we're supposed to do about our southern borders. I care less for the aftermath or what will happen than I care for the violence and stupidity that leads to people being killed for no good reason. I care about the latter quite a bit. But that's Business As Usual. What do I do beyond caring?

What always shocks me, has done so for years now, is the blithe and uninteresting way people forget that we weren't the first ones here. That we, in fact, raped, pillaged and committed genocide on our journey towards the American Dream. All Americans enjoy the fruits of this carnage. All of them. Us. Me.

And really, what are we gonna do about it now? Give it all back and say sorr-ah, ahahaha no, that's not even anywhere near on the menu. I'm not saying we should DO something about that because I wouldn't know where to begin.

What I do suggest is that people who forget this fact receive a gentle reminder that, "Hey, I know you have concerns, and those are important. Not trying to knock your outlook or anything. But, please, do STFU and think about our history for a moment. KTHX."

Of course, some people won't take a gentle reminder.
You can't even start with that because they're so far gone into their own ass-backwards social programming they think that shit above is ADORABLE with ZERO sense of irony.

No, with these the only answer is to deport into them all the way back up the source of our existence. Maybe once we launch them into the sun they'll understand.

http://m.anchoragepress.com/articles/2010/09/02/mobile/news/doc4c7ea1c9738f6090189303.txt

This really pisses me off.
If you're going to set yourself on fire fucking DO IT.
Fucking pansy.

I'm not upset the giant picture of a dead fetus doesn't pop up while I'm face-deep in funnel cake. Then again, I don't go to the state fair anyway.

HELP ME.

All right, Discordia, I could use some help.

I own a recliner that is just chock-full-o-cat-pee. To my knowledge there's not a damned thing that's gonna get that smell out. Either way I hate the fucking thing.

All my furniture, as well as all every other possession of mine, is crammed into one small room that I share with the little Altys and it's not helping my day to day state of mind.

The pee-chair needs to go. I'd donate it, but can't find any crazy cat ladies who wouldn't mind the smell, and I don't want to be the kind of dick that just drops off a nasty urine-laced recliner at the Salvation Army.

However, as I take shit from people for a living now, I have a MIGHTY URGE to be the kind of dick that leaves a urine-laced recliner in some place it totally doesn't belong.

My first thought was to haul it as quickly as possible into the indoor ice-rink in the center of one of our malls, but would have to go directly in front of the security guard station to do so, and that just wouldn't last long. Shootings have happened at that mall recently and they don't fuck around.

I'm mulling it over and will do something tomorrow, but I wanted to see if you all had any ideas.

********************************
This started as a response to some general stuff regarding pseudoscience and paranormal that was being discussed, but turned into something a lot more personal to me.
********************************

I'm a Reiki Master. That's not something I mention often anywhere cause it sounds pretentious. At least, I've always thought so. 

I don't know how much you know about Reiki, but it's a healing art. It was founded in Japan as a quiet spiritual practice, taught in a dojo as a way of life, then when it came to America it got turned into something plastic, sellable. You know the story. 

To practice Reiki you have to have an attunement. Think of it as turning the dials on your aura because that exactly what it is. Once set to a matching frequency of a Master the body is able to channel universal life force into the top of the head, the mind, the heart and out through the hands. 

At least, that's what a Reiki Master would explain to you. 

When I got my Master Attunement a very strange thing happened. Shortly after sensing an ENORMOUS presence behind me coming from the Master performing the attunement (a strong, powerful male force [shaddap]), I had the distinct sensation that I should "look up".

My eyes were closed but as I looked up I saw something I will never forget. A semi-circle of faces were peering down at me from an impossible distance. They could be described in no other way than Angelic. Long, drawn, elegant, noble, androgynous. In the middle of them was the one closest to me and I felt a deep connection with this one, as though it had been patiently waiting for this moment and was pleased to see me. 

I felt that if there were any challenges in my life, this being would be there to guide and support me. 

After some time I looked down eventually came back to a solid sense of reality. This was provided by the Master grounding me, an essential piece of the process. 

Do I believe any of that?

I don't know. I don't really care of it was real, imagined, a very complex set of internal...somethings that showed me what I needed to see to feel better about my life, more in control. 

Because, you see, maybe six months after that this I got this woman pregnant. I had known her for a few months, been with her two weeks before she went out with other dude and guilt-dumped me. Still, I was determined to do right by her and be there in any way she needed. 

Then, after one(1) discussion about how to school the child she fucking left. She's gone. And so is my son. I've never seen him or touched him or heard him laugh. I don't know where she is, but I intend to find out within the next year and/or filing a paternity suit. And my life's greatest shame (so far) is that I have not already done so. 

But that's not the point. 
The point is REIKI is not going to stop THINGS from happening. It's not going to bring about THE GREATER GOOD in every situation, even life changing, horrible ones. 

It's not going to make me make good decisions or fix the bad ones I've made. It's not going to kick my dumbass out of a pathetic self-pitying, suicidal funk. 

Therefore, I don't give a shit about Reiki or God or Ghosts or Magic or any of that shit. If others do, fine, that's got nothing to do with me or my family. And more importantly, I don't care one shit if my family and friends say they have experienced or believe that kind of thing, it's totally and completely irrelevant to who and what they are to me.   

But being a bitter, hatefilled sonofabitch I tend to treat those things themselves poorly. Also, I like to make fun of them.

Hate the sin and not the sinner, amirite?

That may be a hypocritical or unfair approach to these subjects. 
And I'll be sure to fix that right up.
Any second now.



Alty,
Spiritually an Apathetic Agnostic. I don't know and I don't care. 

People yell at me all the time these days. 

And having just exited a career where everyone I worked with irrationally loved the fucking crap out of me I find it a jarring transition. I touched people and they appreciated it. 

Now I work for The Man everyone just loves to shit hate on. And always for the wrong reasons. 

Don't take this as me complaining. I love my job. It pays, it keeps me moving, I learn new things every day. Plus, I'm at the frontline of something very intense happening in America; I'm witness to the aching nub of our depravity, selfishness and greed, which mingles with shame, loathing, and an acute awareness of SOMEBODY getting none-to-kindly fucked in the ass. Again, they always pick the wrong target. Hint: they complain about having a sore dick/vagina. 

It's hard to know where to begin, but I will say this:

The handmade, the handcrafted, the beating/living pulse that so many consumers claim to crave...you know what I mean...authenticity in the products and services they demand: HORSESHIT. 

People want plastic. They want plastic miracles that give them instant gratification and soothing relief from the petty woes of their pitiful lives. They want the people that offer these services to be made of plastic as well. 

Indestructable, without need of maintainence, without need of any of the common requirements for a human being to be just that. Whether it's a break for food, or the need to attend to screaming young, or something as mucky and oily as dignity, theses pimps in whores clothing want to hear none of it. Unless it's theirs. 

The worst part about this is they will seek out (with unknowing and quiet desperation) ANYTHING that is raw and unfiltered. But, because they have no other way, they will only accept raw and unfiltered so long as it is anything but. 

Raw and unfiltered becomes just another filter, a quaint display of something they once held inside themselves. A recollection. A whisper. 

Thus, their rage is weak and worthy only of contempt. Their hateshitting lacks any link with reality or hint of true passion. 

Meanwhile, I am happy to supply them with their plastic needs, and add in any way I can to their hopeless, plastic lives. 

Which is just like mine. 

I meant what I said, that I want to speed this horrible machine up. Money--->Mouth

I'm sore all over. 

  

"Dogma of any kind gives me a rash I enjoy spreading."
-Me, just now.  

This is end of the buffet line.

And boy, when they say All You Can Eat, they ain't kidding. I have fattened my soul up on: Taoism, Buddhism, three different flavors of Jesus Juice, a small taste of Hinduism, Wicca, Satanism*, a smorgasborg of Newage tripe that makes me ill to think about now. The GORGING. Blech.  

Why did I ingest so much of that stuff? Why does anybody? For the lulz? (rarely) For the money? (often) For comfort? (almost always) The comforting position that not only is there a truth, but it's right here, freely available. And pity the poor saps who haven't figured it out yet.

I remain wary of belief, but one thing I have yet to give up on is that people DO want the truth. They do. They just don't want the itching, burning pain that comes with it. Much in the same way everyone would rather fuck without a condom.

If people weren't looking for truth why would yogis spend countless hours in excuciating positions seeking that single spark of GAWD inside them? Why would monks sit outside a mountain doorway, freezing tiny pieces right off their bodies waiting for a chance to seek boundless nothingness? Why the HELL would any normal human being wake up early on Sunday to go to church?

But these rote measures of truth are all the same in the end. Each one is unable to withstand pressure ruthlessly applied to them, crumpling beneath the weight of an ocean of reality as soon as the inevitable weak spots are located. Some people are simply more prone to applying that pressure than others. It's not just tangible reality I'm talking about here. I'm terrible at math and have a tenuous grasp of physics. From a day-to-day, personal mishmash of experience and non-scientific thinking: THIS SHIT STILL DOESN'T ADD UP.  

Are those things worthless? No. They have their place. Just not in my life. They have no complete unarguable essence of TRUTH to them, no firm bottom

Where is the firm bottom? I could go with the easy, obvious answer and say:


But there's something MORE.

I'm not sure there IS a bottom, not for us humans. There may be something like it somewhere out there, but I don't think we're close to finding it yet. Sort of how cro-magnon wasn't able to find something decent on television.

What's more important than finding the bottom, the thing that may lead us to finding it one day is at the heart of discordia.  

Discordia offers a real live method for actively removing the "solid" bottom we carefully lay beneath our feet. It is the nagging, incessant doubt that reminds you over and over to Think For Yourself, Shmuck! no matter how hard that may be.

It does in fact illustrate how much FUN that hardship can be if you let it, it shows you how to ENJOY it, encourges you to GO OUT AND LOOK FOR IT.

To return to the start of my now-mangled metaphor:

You don't eat discorida, she eats YOU.

Discordia eats you up and does not spit you out. She rolls you through her horrible digestive tract and TEACHES YOU TO LOVE WHAT'S SHAT OUT.  

Do you have any idea how many things in this world do that? Maybe you do, and therefore know just how rare such a thing is.

I think that's why you're here.

OR KILL ME.  



*A small note on Satansim: It is said by satanists that one doesn't become a satanist, you're either born that way or not. And I have to agree. For one thing, every satanist I've talked to has been an irredeemable shit-neck with no hope for salvation of any kind.

However, I feel this attitude applies to discordia as well. People who like to cause trouble, who can't help but open their mouths to say "yanno that's retarded, right?" with no regard for the sacredness of the subject seem to be "built" that way.

*shrug*  

It sounds like you messed up your hands pretty good. 75 stitches.  Good lord, Jim. You gotta be more careful. In fact, you may just want to stay out of funhouses for awhile until you get your shit together. 

Don't get angry. It's for your own good. 

You see, walking into those places, the first thing you're gonna see is mirrors. There may be some other attractions, but not until you get past those damned mirrors. I'm sure you've noticed they don't sit still, huh? At first it looks like an optical illusion, but I assure you it's not. 

The reflections you see, the ones that shift and stretch amd widen and shorten into next to nothingness, they're not just images. That'd be nice, but no. The mirrors themselves change shape. Sometimes they move around, shifting from left to right, backwards and forwards. Sometimes they grow legs and walk right out the funhouse door, never to be seen again.

I now it seems unlikely, but that's the funhouse for you.  

That can be awfully unsettiling, Jim. I know. And yet, it's no reason to stay out of the funhouse altogether. And it certainly is no reason to rush in there and smash as many mirrors as you can. 

Look at your hands, Jim. You've nearly ruined them. And for what? So you don't have to see what those mirrors have to show you? So no one else has to see what they've shown you?

That's just selfish. And anyway, just because you've smashed them doesn't mean they're still not there. 

So take a breather, Jim. Let those hands heal up. And when you're ready, get back in there and have a good time.


Alty,
Been there and doing just that.   

Just how much is enough?

On one end there are people who feed their egos all day, every day, people who can't set themselves aside for even one second to consider the fact that other people might, perhaps, exist and have needs, emotions, or physical space.   

On the other end there are people who, through social conditioning or religious justification, suppress their egos to the point of near nothingness. I don't think you can wholly void personality, but you can get awfully close. No opinions, no voice, just breathing meat capable of doing what you need how you need it, but with no desire for much of anything outside of pleasing others. This is just as undesireable, IMO and personal experience.  

How does one find the middle? What's the means of balancing the ego? 

I'm starting to think it has something to do with social interaction, that maybe the mirror of other egos is the only way to see it.   

I was out the other night, trying new things, making new friends, eventually getting laid. Woot.

But there was this incident that took place in the bathroom at the karaoke bar that troubles me. It's something that has happened consistently through my life, and coupled with my desire to be less complacent, it has left me perplexed.

I was standing at the urinal, conducting business as usual. Two gym-rat meatheads walk in.
One goes to the urinal next to me. The other stands in the corner waiting.

The first one says "Hey dude, don't worry, this guy is almost done."
The second says "Yeah, but would anybody mind if I pissed on him?"

Now...this is just the sort of male dick shaking that I've tried to avoid my whole life. And I've been at the receiving end for as long as I can remember. Despite never having been in a fight, my first desire is to shove my fist into his throat for talking to me like that. Or, at the very least, to ask him what the fuck his problem is and why does he have to be such a cock.

But, as per usual, I act like nothing was said, wash my hands and go about my business. I'm at the point now where something like that doesn't leave me anxiety-ridden for weeks, questioning my worth as a human being.

But what the fuck is the APPROPRIATE response to something like that? How the hell would YOU react to that?

I'm thinking about buying a taser/pepper spray all in one thingy.

[[Negrin] then told victim to kneel down and say 'your sorry'.]

Granted, his supervisor was a dick for commenting on it/mocking him.

Rolando Negrin, 44, had a pretty good life including a steady job with the Transportation Security Administration.  However, when he stepped into a full body scanner during a training session and it revealed him to have rather small genitalia, he quickly became the butt of his supervisor's jokes.

Filled with rage at the insults to his manhood, Negrin confronted his boss in the airport parking lot, armed with a police baton.  He struck the man on the arm and back.  A police report describes, "[Negrin] then told victim to kneel down and say 'your sorry'.  Victim stated he was in fear and complied with [Negrin]."

http://www.dailytech.com/TSA+Worker+Assaults+Boss+After+Body+Scanner+Reveals+Small+Genitalia/article18329.htm

************
This has been brewing since I wrote my first rant here. Now's a good a time as any.
************

Love. This word, this word I and countless others before (and certainly after) have obsessed over. This word that does not often appear in the context of discorida, except in the most peripheral, personal way. Though most other religions go to desperate lengths to define it, to own it, to gain full and complete understanding of this vaporous term.

Indeed many already claim it as their own. And they are not alone.

Every level of our culture seems, at least, quietly obsessed with love. And I do not intend to dissuade anyone from continuing this obsession. No. As I've said before, I seek clarity in all things. Clarity and genuine, tangible reality.

So, when I see an advertisement for the latest Nicholas Sparks smarmfest, or walk into a Hallmark store, or spend Valentines Day as a fully-formed and functional biped with a relentless hunger for truth and watch Business-As-Usual I can't help an urge to rip these illusions to threads.

After all, we know love isn't so straightforward, right? It's plain to see that beneath the saccharine superficiality that is the image of LOVE lies something else. So far, I can make out the vague shape of a sweating, panting, stinking BEAST. "A dog from Hell" as Bukowski put it. (Though have no fear, I won't be using him as a general authority on these matters.)

One thing I can promise, I will at no time try to define love.
I'm not so arrogant.

I will only attempt to peel away some of the layers of untruth, and maybe come to a closer understanding of what's really underneath. Maybe it's not a beast at all. But that top layer so many people take for granted...that's got to go. It has no more substance than a bag of Cheetohs or Newage* "philosophy".

And I hate it.

Or Kill Me.



*Which, as the satanists are fond of saying, rhymes with sewage.

Its the strong bars that are the worst.   

My own prison is missing a few of them, those real sonofabitch iron bars that just up and leave, and you're left wonder what you'll fill them with. That's what these bars do. 

What makes me still laugh about all this, all this misery and horror and stupidity that we put ourselves through, is just how hard we cling to it. 

These bars, these solid bars, the ones that support the bulk of your presumptions and delusions, they are the ones you miss the most. Especially right away. 

These bars give shape and structure, they defend frequent assault with ease. 

And when they go, well you've sees how people can become agitated about this sort of thing. 

We wrap our arms around these bars and tell them to never let us go. And if you think for one second that this isn't you, no couldn't POSSIBLY be you also, then I envy you. 

Oh, you've got them, YOU are cluthing them tight. You just don't know it. Yet. Maybe never. 

I envy you because that how these iron bars work, you don't want them to go away. You want them to stay. Please stay. 

Please? 

Then again. 

It's better that they're gone. One less thing. 

I WAS PROMISED THETANS YOU PIG-FUCKERS! WHERE ARE THEY?

Holy shit.
So...the last time I went to a bar was about three years ago. Actually, it's been about that time since I went to any kind of social situation I didn't have control over. That said, even when I did go out, I swore I would NEVER go to Chilkoot Charlie's. I was under the assumption that I would get my ass beat within the first five minutes.

Yesterday I got some kind of bug up my ass and needed to take a risk.
This was the first time ever in a bar where I didn't clam up and retreat into a corner avoiding eye-contact with people.

I had an awful lot of fun, actually.
Proof!:

Why yes, that IS an awful lot of underwear.


The original Bird House got its ass burned to the GROUND. I wonder why. There was sawdust all over the floor of its bite-sized version within Koots.

Also,

LOOK at that thing. That fucker could flush a whole...well, a whole ME if it came down to it.

FUN!

[-The Deck-]

Okey-Dokey.

I've made reasonably sure I wasn't stepping on Peleus' toes, or at least that he didn't mind if I did, before I did this.
If you guys don't like this, just say so and I will nuke it, or let it sit and rot, and keep my piece to myself concerning this project and just go along with whatever.

If the job I'm doing gathering is not up to snuff, if I've overlooked or missed something, or if I've made some erroneous attribution, please let me know and I will correct it. Or if you think it could use some tweaking, also let me know.

The goal here is to create a repository of info concerning this deck so that we can gether as much info and input as possible, then blend for consistency. Whatever the deck looks like in the end should be up to all of us, in as much consensus as we can manage.

I will gather details throughout the peedy thread and update this OP as needed so we all know where we are, who requested what, and so on. My personal thought on the matter is that we'll do well to just throw out as many ideas as possible, and then extract the very best. Whatever that means.

The important thing to remember is THIS IS ALL SUBJECT TO CHANGE AS WE SEE IT.

-The Deck-

Unfinished Business:
-Five suits have been discussed, possibly just as the number 5. Are we doing this y/n?
-If so, what should the 5th suit be?
-Is it the fnord? I'm not clear on this.

-Do we definitely want these to be the theme of the suits?
-If not, what then?

-Adding an additional court/face card has been discussed. What will it be?
-What will the nature of our court/face cards be?

It has been mentioned using certain PD.com memes/common subjects/obsessions and integrating them into the deck.

Example:
The Suit of Wands = Dildoes
The Suit of Cups = Mustaches
The Suit of Discs = 0's

Our suits thus far are:

Dildoes
Caramel Apple of Dildoes
Bicycle of Dildoes
Tricycle-of-Dildoes
Geometry of Dildoes
Pyramid of Dildoes
HalfaDozenoftheOther of Dildoes
Chinese Take-Out of Dildoes
Hot Pepper of Dildoes
Catfish of Dildoes
Purple of Dildoes

Court
Ratatosk - Squirrel of Dildoes
Horseman of the Apocalypse of Dildoes
Elvis Impersonator of Dildoes
Eris of Dildoes

Sharps
Apple of Arrows
Bicycle of Camping Knives
Tricycle of Potato-Chip-Bag-Opening Utensils
Geometry of Utility Knives
Pyramid of Occams Razor Rusting
HalfaDozenoftheOther of I Ching Wand Carving Knives
Chinese Take-Out of Cleavers
Hot Pepper of PaperCuts
Bass of FishHooks
Purple of Grape-Peeling-Axes

Court
Squirrel over Lawnmowers
Horseman of the Apocalypse of Razor Blades
Elvis Impersonator of Hairstylists
Eris of the Most Unkindest Cut of All

Zeros
Apple of Zeros
Bicycle of Zeros
Tricycle of Zeros
Geometry of Zeros
Pyramid of Floppies
HalfaDozenoftheOther of Zeros
Chinese Take-Out of Zeros
Hot Pepper of Zeros
Halibut of Zeros
Purple of Zeros

Court
Squirrel of Zeros
Horseman of the Apocalypse of Zeros
Elvis Impersonator of Zeros
Eris of Zeros

Mustaches
Apple of Mustaches
Bicycle of Mustaches
Tricycle of Mustaches
Geometry (Topology) of Mustaches
Pyramid of Mustaches
HalfaDozenoftheOther of Mustaches
Chinese Take-Out of Mustaches
Hot Pepper of Mustaches
Goldfish of Mustaches
Purple of Mustaches

Court
Squirrel of Mustaches
Horseman of the Apocalypse of Mustaches
Elvis Impersonator of Mustaches
Eris of Mustaches




major/trumps

Unfinished Business:
-Are we going fully traditional? y/n?
-Are the people laying claim to the card being featured in it AND working on the card? This is actually a general question for the deck.


Wiki's
0    The Fool
1    The Magician / The Juggler
2    The High Priestess / The Popess
3    The Empress
4    The Emperor
5    The Hierophant / The Pope
6    The Lovers
7    The Chariot
8    Justice
9    The Hermit
10   Wheel of Fortune
11   Strength / Fortitude
12   The Hanged Man / The Traitor
13   Death
14    Temperance
15    The Devil
16    The Tower / Fire
17    The Star
18    The Moon
19    The Sun
20    Judgment / The Angel
21    The World

out of order
0 The Fool
1 The Sucker
2 The Goose in the Bottle
3 The Sacred Chao
4 The Garden
5 The Bureaucrat
So of S.:O.:
6 Love
7 ROADTRIP!!!
8 Slack (tm)
9 Trickster
10 Meta
11 Curiosity Killed Schrödinger's Cat
12 Sex and Death Candy
13 Darwin Award
14 Elements
15 the devilWild(er)ness  Weirdness
16 the tower Stupidity IR SMRT
17 Everything is true
18 Angst The Emo
19 Dr. Marten's Boots Wade's boots
20 Grandmotherly Kindness
21 Space time

ddeck's
1 Sacred Cow: a sacred cow.
2 A Pope: querent, i.e. for whom the cards are read, or anybody really.
3 The Initiate: one who seeks knowledge
4 The Illuminate: one who dispenses knowledge
5 The Believer: one who accepts ideas
6 The Skeptic: one who rejects ideas
7 The Flower: sex, drugs, hedonism
8 The Trout: humor and laughter
9 Conspiracy: the plot behind all coincidence
10 Joker: wild card, means whatever
11 Net of Synchronicity: the cosmic force behind all coincidence
12 This Discordian Deck: this deck
13 The Big Bang: eristic creation
14 The Great Pyramid: aneristic creation
15 Radioactivity: aneristic destruction
16 The Tower of Babel: eristic destruction
17 The Discordian Society: folk of chaos
18 The Bavarian Illuminati: folk of order
19 Greyface: person of order
20 Eris: person of chaos
21 The Golden Apple: eristic forces
22 The Pentagon: aneristic forces
23 The Sacred Chao: balance of hodge and podge



Regardless of our choices, people have laid claim to these cards:

Courts

King of Swords -
Queen of Swords - Sparkley Pink Shit
Knight of Swords - Cain
Page of Swords -
Princess of Swords -

King of Wands - Cram
Queen of Wands -
Knight of Wands -
Page of Wands - Enki][
Princess of Wands -

King of Cups -
Queen of Cups - Mistress Freeky
Knight of Cups - Joh'nyx, EoC (fight to death)
Page Of Cups -  000
Princess of Cups - Nast

King of Cups -
Queen of Discs - Nigel
Knight of Discs - Jason
Page of Discs -
Princess of Discs -



major Trumps

These are nowhere near in order yet.



IR SMRT - yatto I don't know what this is.


0    The Fool (1) -  Dimo
1    The Magician - Doktor Howl
2    The High Priestess - Jenne
3    The Empress - Suu
4    The Emperor -
5    The Hierophant -
6    The Lovers - Pix/Payne (Has been suggested, no verified)
7    The Chariot - Faust
8    Justice - Cramulus
9    The Hermit - Herbertina Merrique V
10   Wheel of Fortune -
11   Strength - 000 (suggested not confirmed)
12   The Hanged Man - LMNO
13   Death - NotPublished
14    Temperance - EOT
15    The Devil - Peleus
16    The Tower - Babylonhoruv
17    The Star - Nigel
18    The Moon - Squid aka Turdley
19    The Sun - Mistress Freeky
20    Judgment -
21    The World - Roaring Biscuit

For simplicity's sake I will keep these cards attributed to their Rider-Waite labels until we've got this all sorted.

I do not care one tiny motherfucking bit if the truth for a given situation is HATE or JOY or LOVE or CRUSHING DISAPPOINTMENT. Because as permeable as the truth is, you can always sniff it out from amongst the bullshit. Unless, of course, you've stuck your nose so far into bullshit that it's become the only thing you are capable of recognizing.

I may not know what THE TRUTH is, but I have a pretty good idea of what it's not. And I will set that shit on fire whenever I get the chance. Especially when it's inside me.

OR KILL ME.

For this recipe I used about 4lbs of corned beef. But I only have one pot big enough to hold any piece of meat that size and this one barely fit.

BEEF

-Hunk of Corned Beef. As much as you can handle, baby. I used The Real McCoy beef I found at The Store.
-Two bottles of beer (I usually keep dark beer in the house, and prefer it).
-Water.
-Spice packet that came with beef. If your beef didn't come with a spice packet I cannot help you.
-Potatoes (as much as will fit with the carrots).
-Carrots (as much as will fit with the potatoes).

Place beef in pot.
Pour beer in.
Cover with water
Bring to boil then simmer, covered, for about 4 hours (or 1 hour per lb.)
In the last 20-30 minutes, add potatoes and carrots.

But where, you may ask, is the freaking cabbage?
I don't really like throwing it in with the meat. It's just too bland, and I really like good cabbage.

So...

CABBAGE

-One head of cabbage.
-Half a slab of bacon.
-Five cloves of garlic.
-As many mushrooms as you damned-well please.
-Sausage, one handful of. I like summer sausage because it is delicious.

Cut bacon into pieces, I cut them about the size of the upper part of my thumb or so.
Fry bacon until browned slightly.
Cut cabbage in half, remove core, then slice.
Add cabbage to bacon.
Coat top layer with pepper, add salt to taste.
After cabbage has cooked down a bit, add cut up garlic. (I smash it with the flat of a knife, then chop).
Add sliced mushrooms.
Cook down a little more.
Add sausage.

It's done when you think it looks mindbogglingly delicious and when the meat has had the living fuck cooked out of it. 1hr per pound.

EAT.

I find the cabbage alone is a good meal with rice.

It's no wonder Ive never heard of you, it's been over a decade since you bothered to pay AK with anything more than a light sprinkling.

You get that God status by pussyfooting around or what?

Oh sure, you can get the east coast. That's easy. Where's the challenge?

So come on, BRING IT!


I've never once had a snow day off from school or work.

I FIND OWL(s) FOR YUO!


Found this fella googling "danger owl".

And these two:

with "owl of mystery".

...teh herb.

Three things have inspired this:

1. My desire for employment that pays enough money for a car and an education (for it's own sake.).

2. A quote from TGRR (Rest his soul), "Makes me stop hating people." Paraphrased. I've been far too passive since I turned 18. There are things everyday, and things over the course of years, that deserve my horrible, horrible attention. They have slipped passed me without receiving the mauling they deserve. No more.

3. RWHN's arguments in the LEGALIZE IT thread. They were compelling and sensible, and while I don't agree with legislation that affects people's intake of substance that doesn't make them think they're bullet-proof, I still feel as though there's something better. For me and my kids.


As an added bonus: Noticed my increased productivity the last few days? Yeah.

[Hello! Welcome to Life™.]

**********************************
Seeing as hostile takeover by our future corporate overlords is inevitable, I thought I'd jump the gun and create an introductory pamphlet to life befitting the corporate model. It is meant for infants, and also as a primer for learning to read. Any critique or suggestions for improvement is welcome. Or, if it's complete shit, just poomp in a box and FedEx it to me.
**********************************




Hello! Welcome to Life™.

We, The Company™, would like to take this time to help You™ familiarize Yourself™ with Your™ new surroundings and what You™ can expect from Your™ duration.

Initially, You™ will be unable to read this document as Your™ brain has not received the training and mentoring required to read. However, as Your™ parents were trained in a similar fashion, they will use this document as a primer so that You™ will be able to grasp the fundamentals from which all Policy™ is derived.

What follows is a basic outline of what Life™ has to offer. We hope that You™ find it enjoyable and informative.


The World Outside

The world is a big place, and it is easy to lose Your™ way. Fortunately, we have laid down the tracks to provide You™ with a clear path on Your™ journey.

Your™ Domicile:

You™ and Your™ peers have each been provided with living quarters. As of now, You™ live with Your™ parents*1. However, once You™ are fully able to attend to Your™ bodily functions and are ready to become a part of The Workforce, and the Individual™ currently occupying Your™ predetermined domicile is deployed into retirement, you will reside within your fully customizable*2. home-space.

It is replete with: Postural Enhancing Sleeping Nook, Entertainment and Information Portal, Waste Management Equipment, Homeostasis Control (Set for Warm or Tepid, depending on your geographical location.), and more.

Your™ Peers:

We will provide You™ with a group of peers, with whom You™ will share life-experiences, commonalities, character traits*3. and shifts as well as responsibilities within The Workforce.
When in doubt*4. consult Your™ peers first, then fill out an official incident report with Your™ nearest Supervisor.

The Workforce:

The Workforce is more than Your™ contribution to the very society that feeds, clothes, and comforts you. The Workforce provides You™ with something that no other source can offer: Meaning. There is meaning in even the smallest act of focused, productive work. Whether Your™ role within The Workforce is "menial", such as caring for those in retirement, or coveted, such as the role of a Supervisor, You™ will find an abundance of purpose and personal fulfillment in giving Your™ everything to the tasks set before You™.

For more information on The Workforce, please consult Sub-Article K-98 "The Workforce: You Path to Meaning and Purpose."


The World Inside

If You™ are anxious about the chaos and uncertainty of the World Outside, the World Inside will only increase Your™ emotional trepidation.

The World Inside poses a myriad of corners, gaps, and unseen challenges. It is far easier to navigate the World Outside. Emotions, thoughts, concerns, these fly unchecked through the mind into places where Supervisors are (thus far *5) unable to provide evaluation. What is worse, some Individuals™ intentionally keep parts of the mind hidden. We cannot guess as to why a content Individual™ would seek to do so. All we can do is correct the behavior through rehabilitation, or failing that, through punishment to set an example to future Individuals™.

A Final Word:

This is meant to be an introduction to Your™ education of Policy™, the guide and outline to Your™ life. It is not meant to be exhaustive. Once Your™ grasp of this document is complete You™ will move to more a comprehensive education on the nature of Policy™ as it pertains to Your™ life.

We hope that You™ have enjoyed this document, and we look forward to future interactions.

Thank You™ and Have a Nice Day.



****
A Note to Parents.

As You™ are intimately familiar with this document You™ will understand what must be done with it. Please do not neglect Your™ responsibility, and ensure that Your™ infant receives the very best from the very start. You™ are urged to read this document to Your™ child as soon as Your™ certified pregnancy is confirmed by shouting it at high volumes whenever Your™ free time allows.
****
















1. See: Sub-Article C-34 "Permission for the Sharing of a Domicile with a Family or Certified Partner for the Purposes of Furthering the Population."

2. See: Sub-Article J-58 "Customizing Your™ Domicile, Rules, Limits and Guidelines."

3. See: Sub-Article E-21 "Non-compliance with Character Trait Standards and Regulations." as proscribed by Sub Article D-71 "Character Traits, Standards and Regulations: A Guide to Behavior.".

4. See Sub-Article S-36 "Doubt: The Dangers Of."

5. See Sub-Article W-43 "Accessing the Hidden Map of the Human Mind™."

If there has been any one thing my, now defunct, career has taught me, in a very tactile way, it is this:

WE ARE ALL MEATBAGS.

I don't mean that as some kind of nihilism, some depressing, hopelessly existential moping of a confirmed misanthrope. When I first came to this realization I was relieved beyond measure. For once, after years of looking, I found the common denominator, and one so simple, so obvious I was amazed it took me so long to see it. Politics, religion, philosophy, ideology in general, while very important and as tangible as intellectual constructs can be (Their dream becomes Your reality, etc, etc.), have no affect on our meat in isolation. They are GAMES we (WE) highly developed animals play to pass the time and, more importantly, as a way to reach across the gulf of meat the separates us from one another.

It is a paradox that we are social creatures, yet one of the more common human circumstances is searing, vast, enduring loneliness. I think it's fairly safe to say that most people never really free themselves from this. There is always this gap, that only shared experience fills, and never for good.

Maybe this is why we're so prone to acts of violence to one another. Deep, deep down we want to connect in a physical way, to share that basic commonality in a socially acceptable way. Hugging is out for the most part, seen as the flippant circle-jerking action of the soft and weak. Touch, if sexual, is compartmentalized meticulously, or if platonic is either distrusted, paid for, or accepted so long as several qualifiers are met.

Why are we so reluctant to touch? Why are we repelled by the physical contact with one another as strangers and sometimes as more? Perhaps we fear the most common and all-accepted form:

A fist right on the nose or in the gut. Or a bullet ripping through flesh too fast to see, too quick to regret. Or, THE BEST: blind, thundering, all-destructive force unleashed from a safe distance brought on by a sanctified and authentic source of reason. Now THERE you've finally got something. Something we can all understand and sympathize with.

Make no mistake that we constantly seek to connect with one another on as tangible a scale as we can muster.

But that wasn't my point, just things as I see it.

My point is this:

There is ALWAYS this commonality. Meat.

And you can divide people into sheep, and cabbages, and zombies, and THEM, and US all you'd like.

But they're meat. And you're meat.

And that's okay. WORK WITH IT DAMMIT.

[You]

Dear Stupid Hippie,


Due to your passive-aggressive, cowardly, inability to fire me, as well as your general passive-aggressive "management style", paranoid delusional behavior (I don't LIKE turkey, lady. Why would I steal yours? I ate yours at the pot-luck to be polite. Look where that got me. Also, I handed out my business cards because you haven't bothered to put me on yours and people ask how to spell my name all the time. Where would I send them? These patients you accused me of trying to steal? Your place is the only one I can send them to without a referral. I was trying to increase YOUR business.), and general nastiness I, being of sound mind, resign my non-existent position as an LMT at <removed>.

Honestly, when I began working for you I thought it would be a great opportunity to learn things from an experienced, wise person committed to healing. My mistake.

You will no doubt be happy to know that I am leaving the health-care field entirely. You have been the final step in realizing that the life of a healer is just as bitter and disappointing as any other. And for the record, caring about the environment is no excuse to ignore your manic behavior towards people.



With the utmost sincerity,


MY NAME, OHAI GOOGLE.



P.S. I know this letter is very, VERY unprofessional, but I wanted to give you the satisfaction of being Right that you so desperately crave. Enjoy.

There are so many "little things" that don't get brought up ITT, non-thread related things.
We post so many links and pics that other sites or people have done, but there are SO MANY cool things right here. They change in and out, and I thought it would be nice to keep them all someplace as we see them. Also, most people here are pretty modest about these things and don't do them for the attention that they often deserve.

So...


Hey Kel, I really like your sig.

Like, a whole fucking lot.

I have this thing about pink things.

how well Diesel/Heavy Equipment mechanics fare in these troubled economic times?

As much as I'd like to get a regular degree, it doesn't seem too likely right now.
Besides, I would still enjoy a career where I can assess, manipulate, and repair some sort of complex system with my hands. One that would put foods in my mouth would be awesome too, and since AK has the highest pay-rate for diesel mechanics in the US I think I'd have that covered.

I like diesels, have held a weird sort of fascination with them for years now.

I'm not really worried about having ZERO mechanical know-how as I entered massage the same way.

http://threshold.ca/usui-do/faq.html

I found this stuff years ago, above is one link I could find right now. Can't say it's very reliable, but it definitely makes more sense than the story brought over in the 50's as to the origin and method.

Usui was the founder of Reiki and he was a buddhist. For whatever reason, and by whatever method, he developed a practice that was supposed to give a sense of peace and comfort, a law of fives deal with the intent of promoting and living with kindness and appreciation for life. This was based mostly on a set of affirmations, distilled for our pleasure it is roughly as follows:

"The secret method of inviting blessings, the spiritual medicine of many illnesses (Shôfuku no hihô, Manbyo no rei yaku)

Just for today (Kyo dake wa):

Don't get angry (Okoru na*)

Don't worry (Shinpai su na)

Be grateful (Kansha shite)

Work hard (Gyo wo hage me)

Be kind to others (Hito ni shinsetsu ni)

Mornings and evenings sit in the gassho position and repeat these
words out loud and in your heart (Asa you gassho shite kokoro ni neji kuchi ni tonaeyo)

For the improvement of mind and body (Shin shin kaizen)

Usui Spiritual Healing Method (Usui Reiki Ryoho)


The founder, Mikao Usui (Chossô, Usui Mikao)"

Ok, still some woo in there. However, the man lived a simple poor life without charging a lot of money, in fact barely able to pay for his own dojo. So while there was some soothing woo, at least he wasn't completely full of shit. He didn't say that his method would cure cancer, it wasn't intended for health care purposes.

This other fella, Captain Chuujirou Hayashi, he applied that stuff to it, and, I presume, instigated the hierarchical nature it exhibits today.

Now, it arrived in America in the 50's when buddhism wasn't just bandied about, and the only way Hawayo Takata (the woman who brought it to the U.S.) could get it accepted by the public (and make a shit-ton of cash with it) wa to create a whole slew of lies and bullshit.

Usui was a Christian yearning to discover the nature of the Healing Power of Christ, he charged large sums of money for initiation because people who didn't pay didn't appreciate it. And then she turned it into snake oil.

So, while still based in woo, it was not the same thing that costs $1000 for the 1st Degree, $5000 for the 2nd, and $10,000 for the Master Level and is laced with New Age garbage today.

The book Essential Reiki did not help this.


Usui-Do was a law of five method for serenity (and poverty), Reiki is condensed, homogenized magic.

I will look for further links when I have the time.

[spiritual, medical, and nutritional belief systems]

Not because of Catcher in the Rye, though I loathed that book. I may have judged it in error anyway. I was a lot dumber when I read it, and perhaps I found it so dull only because so many people had coveted it before me and its themes were too imprinted into society for me to see it as anything but a statement of the obvious. At the time of it's publication I'm sure it was incendiary. Also, I may just have horrible taste.*

No. His failure had little to do with his work. His was a social problem, shared, no doubt, by others who just happened upon concentration camps or witnessed similar horrors. You get the bad taste of humanity in your mouth, nothing really washes it away for good.

He did what so many like him have done: He Sought. He sought and sought. That fucker looked everywhere. He seemed to have rejected Dear Sweet Jesus right away, and I can't reall blame him for that.

Wikipedia:

After abandoning Kriya yoga, Salinger tried Dianetics (the forerunner of Scientology), even meeting its founder L. Ron Hubbard, but according to Claire he was quickly disenchanted with it.[70][71] This was followed by adherence to a number of spiritual, medical, and nutritional belief systems including Christian Science, homeopathy, acupuncture, macrobiotics, the teachings of Edgar Cayce, fasting, vomiting to remove impurities, megadoses of Vitamin C, urine therapy, "speaking in tongues" (or Charismatic glossolalia), and sitting in a Reichian "orgone box" to bathe in "orgone energy."[72][73][74][75]

I read that and I could feel this icy grip, shaming me, humiliating me. Not only had much of my own "studies" and practices been done to death well before I was capable of understanding that Shit's Fucked Up (or understanding anything at all for that matter), but they were shared by a distant (ha) somewhat aloof (haha) recluse, who died mostly alone (BAAHAHAHAHAHAHA).

What this shows me, as much as it shows me anything, is that in all his religious searching and explorations of other belief based systems of thought, he never got to discordianism. Or, at least, he didn't GET IT if did get to it.

One thing that discordianism has shown the value of is the ability to Stick Apart Together and HAVE SOME FUCKING FUN. I feel Salinger could have used those lessons.

Many of us want to rip the core of the earth apart and have been left with a deep distaste for the status quo (whatever the fuck that is). Some of us just hate generally, up and down and across the board. And that's okay. Nothing wrong with hate. Beats apathy or forced Positive Thinking hands down, IMHO.

But that doesn't mean we lock ourselves away, or find some mountain cave to hide in. Monks and priests and the anti-social make this excuse, that truth can be found in solitude, in quiet contemplation. But this is a lie, another "escape" that amounts to no more than spartan window dressing.

This is also the biggest flaw in analytical philosophy. All that jargon, just another mountain to hide in. You can tell because any FUNCTIONAL system of belief or truth or explanation must be catered to nature of humans as SOCIAL animals.

These things, these beliefs, even Mega-dosing Vit.C. They are often just ways to avoid needing people, being close to them, and feeling the very real ups and downs that people bring with them wherever they go.

You need people, I need people. J.D. Salinger thought he didn't need people. And maybe he didn't, maybe he was just happy as a clam tucked away with is supplements and Ancient Texts and no one to talk to but his typewriter.

I don't want that. For me, that is just another kind of hell. The Hell of the Lonely Bastard, and until recently it was the same hell I was heading towards.

Now though, I'm going to go ahead and do what he was afraid to do, what I've been afraid to do.  I'm going to risk myself and see if I can't make some motherfucking friends. Even ones who occasionally tell each other to go fuck themselves. Even if I lose some here and there. There's a risk there, as with anything worth doing. Hell, I'm taking a risk just by posting this for you vicious bastards to read.

It's better this way, better than living death.



*Burns has countered this and I am liable to put my faith in his judgement.

...no one's laughing?

It scares me because I've been led to believe that evil had this cackling, maniacal laugh, that evil took pleasure in what it does. This belief must have been born of a childhood in front of the television, I'm fairly certain. Where else did it come from? My peers? Where would they have gotten it from? Their parents? No. Well, yes, but the source is the same for all of them: The TEEVEE.

And what has that Great God of Legitimacy told THEM about evil?

Evil laughs as it pulls the switch that rains doom upon humanity. It takes PLEASURE in hurting others. God damn, this is such an obvious lie. You can see that just by looking into the face of your neighbors and co-workers. Your family. Hell, you might just get a glimpse of it in your god-damned mirror. I pretty sure I've seen it in mine.*

Seems to me evil tends to have the slow, passive, well-oiled movements of the professional who takes no pleasure in their work but gets the job done. Like the serene no-face of a good undertaker, only without the good taste to wait until their client has passed before getting to work.

The bareness of an executive's personality and imagination. The callousness and total lack of sympathy, empathy or any other emotion of a health care professional. The slick, glittering confidence of a Ford salesman. The anti-septic Adherence to Policy that is the insurance industry.

In fact, that seems to be the most popular theme: Clean. A place for everyone and everything, and, well you know.

And that's not the worst. Nope.

The worst is that blank, glazed, uninterested stare of The Apathetic Youth. It's the worst because they didn't choose that stare, they did nothing to earn it. They've inherited it. They were born into it.

So I'm scared, because NO ONE is laughing. And that can't be good.


*Actually, the only reflection I've seen it in has been those shed by the people around me. It seems I fit their sense of it just fine.

I don't have a car. Lame. But, it provides me ample time/space to take pictures. Here are some from winter thus far. I should have some pretty ones in the summer.


Here's one from Thanksgiving, right outside my front door.


Another from same day.
BRB MEAT THERMOMETER.


Outside work. I like it when the trees get crystally.


Here's ship creek. People do a lot of fishing here in the summer. I wouldn't. This little bit of nice is surrounded by industrial stuff.

Let me start by saying what others here and elsewhere have said: I FUCKING HATE CHRISTMAS.

I know, I know. Another Christmas rant. It's almost a cliche.

Even worse is the story about a someone like me who learns to embrace this obnoxious holiday and finds true value in it.

Yet, I am going to embrace it. Let me explain.

I gave up on Christmas as soon as I was far enough away from my family to do so. 2000+ miles. My very favorite Christmas was the one spent alone, working graveyard in a big empty building. Just me, paid hours (time and a half at that), and a laptop. Right the fuck on. That was 2006.

Every year since then, even after moving back closer to my family, I have flat-out refused to celebrate it. I would get righteously, gloriously drunk on the solstice. But the gifts, spending time with my stupid family, the Christmas Fucking Spirit, nuh-uh. No sir. And I liked it that way. I also enjoyed spewing my hatred for the holiday whenever I had the chance; which, was whenever I opened my mouth from Black Friday until Jan. 1st. I liked that too.

But now....shit. I don't have a bloody choice.

Every relationship involves some level of compromise, and mine with Mrs. Alty has surprisingly little need of it. Thank Gawd. However, she loves Christmas. This ordinarily would not stop me from unleashing my internally justified hate. But we has the babies, and apparently your are a fucking MONSTER if you do not lie to your children about a fictional fat man in a red suit who brings you presents even when you act like a little shit*. I figured that shit out when I was six years old and gained nothing but churlish resentment.

But it's not really compromise that compels the decision that I've made. Honestly, I just do anything to make Mrs. Alty smile the way she does when the babies open their presents.**

So, because I'm a sucker, a mushy-hearted fool-for-women, I am going to get festive.

But, that doesn't mean it's going to be pretty.

You see, when I say I'm going to embrace Christmas, I really mean it. I am going to get intimate with Christmas. I am going to snuggle up to it, and love it, and get it nice and cozy. And then I'm going to fuck it in the ass.

With tinsel for lube.

I am going to fuck Christmas raw.

I am going to be the worst thing that's happened to Christmas since Charles Dickens***.

I am going to take Iptuous' advice and make this plastic holiday my own, with my own horrible traditions that will make carolers puke mid falla lala la.

My sweaters will be the tackiest, most hideous things I can find on ebay. The decorations outside of our house will make the Korean Open-Door Presbyterian Church-goers shit their pants driving past us. I will come up with other hilarious ideas I cannot think of at the moment.

I am going to shove this holiday right back into the unsuspecting faces of the people who were foolish enough to shove it in mine.

So MERRY MOTHERFUCKING CHRISTMAS MOTHERFUCKERS! YO HO, YO HO!

Wait, that's pirates. Fuck.












*WHO THE FUCK GIVES THEIR KIDS COAL FOR CHRISTMAS? FUCKING NOBODY! AND WE BLOODY WELL OUGHT TO!


**I do not, however, enjoy the complaints that we don't have enough for the kids and that makes her a shitty mother. That just seems stupid to me, considering there will be kids who will not only not get ANY fucking presents but will starve to death, et al., on that Magical, Joyous day.

***The pig-fucker.

God dammit. 
GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!

I finally figured you out. Your fuckup, that is.
 
Years I spent making excuses, for myself, for others, as to why you fuck up so badly over and over again as though you were doing it on purpose. 

The truth is this: you just won't learn. Simple really, when you look at it like that. You refuse to learn anything. 

And not just in love, plenty of us have a hard time with that. It's understandably confusing. No. You refuse to learn anything about anything.
 
Language (the one you speak every day for example), technology, current events, music. Show me a topic/field/new piece of information and I can show you something you refuse to absorb. Calling someone to get directions for a part of town you are unfamiliar with (disregarding that you've lived here for 20+ years.) is utterly beyond you.  

It is not that fucking hard. 

You fuck up, realize what you lost, and do things motherfucking differently so it doesn't happen again. 

How hard is that? 

But no. Nonono. Not you. You have to fuck up in exactly the same way overandover. Like a fucking child. And really, that's exactly what you are, a child. You have all the sensibilities and comprehension levels and emotional maturity of a stupid 15 year old. You FUCKINGSTUPIDPIECEOFSHIT! God dammit, you do nothing but piss me off now. Every word that's spewed from your gullet fills me with rage. Even banal things.

Especially those. 

What the fuck will it take, huh? What do you need in order to pull your head out of your own uptight asshole and start acting like an adult? How did you make it all these years without someone pointing this out to you? How did you survive?

I fucking hate you right now and I don't see that changing any time soon. 

Today I am going to be a guest speaker for a classful of highschoolers (mostly girls as it is a Health Occupations class) about the wonders to be found in a career as a Massage Therapist.

I never prepare for these kinds of things, I just vomit words and do my best to smack the bored, psuedo(and also quite genuine)-insolence, and apathy out of their eyes, usually by getting them to laugh about something terrible.   

Does PD have any lessons or bits of wisdom that I can* pass on?







*but probably shouldn't.