Show Posts

This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.

Topics - P3nT4gR4m

Pages: 1 ... 15 16 17 [18]
Or Kill Me / Having a "John Lennon" Moment
« on: December 21, 2006, 10:14:26 pm »
Imagine a world where all (wo)men were created equal.
Imagine a world where everyone put the needs of others before themselves.
Imagine a world where everyone was free to do what they would, without rules and regulations, without fear of oppression, with the unconditional help and support of their fellow beings.
Imagine a world without conflict of any kind from petty arguments to world wars.
Imagine walking down a pristine street where children of all colours played in harmony, their little voices creating a sound almost musical.
Imagine a political system that worked to serve and better the hopes and dreams of humanity.
Imagine a religion that encouraced free thinking and the pursuit of Satori.
Imagine a world where we had no word for hate because the concept was so alien to everyone.
Imagine a world with no need for currency because everyone made what they could and gave what they could spare.
Imagine a world where help was always at hand, where nurture was nature and nature was love.
Imagine a world where every stranger was a friend you hadn't met yet.
Imagine a world where crime was unthinkable and cruelty equally so.

Now wake the fuck up and get back to your suffering - IT'S NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN!

Bring and Brag / The stars beneath my feet (Out of my Box)
« on: December 09, 2006, 02:21:11 pm »
Its 3:00am, I'm walking home, tripping. I've been smoking hash all night but it's not that that makes me trip. When I want to take a trip I take a trip. I don't necessarily ingest or inhale or somehow else incorporate a chemical into my biological organism. I don't need to. That's what the acid heads and the dope fiends never seemed to get. A trip is going somewhere, stepping sideways, without moving, through the here and now, to the there and then that's still here and now but somewhere else. Acid serves as a vehicle to take the trip and, perhaps more importantly, in the first instance, it shows you the way but once you know the way it aint so far so I just go there, in the blink of an eye. Last Train to Transcentral, all aboard. I look at the sparkles on the black tarmac pavement, from the moonlight on the frost. Little stars, twinkling by in a river beneath my feet. It's so beautiful, so still but still life, still alive. Clippety clop go my boots, along the milky way, home.

I'm thinking outside the box. There is no box when it comes to my thoughts. Whooopef'kinskidoo! I got all these thoughts. They come from places outside the box but they won't fit in the box. They don't make sense in the box. I don't understand why not cos I never ever thought in there. I got lucky. I was born insane. They had to teach me the box existed in the first place, "What? Theres a box?", "Whats a box?", they ask. But there's definitely a box and a lot of heads are stuck inside it. None of these heads get my thoughts. They'd have to think outside the box to think these thoughts. But you tell them this and the don't know what a box is. Thinking inside the box assumes the inside is all there is. Of course it does if there was an outside then you'd have to think of that and that, by definition, is not inside the box.

There's no one here on this sleeping street. No one for me to grab by the collar and give a shake and scream "Look - there's a fucking great BOX!". Probably just as well. They'd have no idea what I was talking about or, if they did, they'd probably just say "Yeah, but nobody ever gets that." and that would be a real buzzkill. Truth be told there is no box. I wouldn't be tramping along the milky way, clippety clop, if there was a box. I'm out my box! Stoner humour only makes sense to the trully stoned but it's just a box within a box that most folks never open. Is outside the box just the inside of another box? I think of outside the box. Yup it's another box, I step outside, clippety clop and I keep going and I keep going, one box after another in infinite regression. So I stop.

When Monkey King was challenged by the buddha to fly to the pillars at the end of the universe and he flew and he flew and finally reached the pillars and took a piss on them. It turned out he was pissing on the budda's fingers. I got that at age 10. None of the adults did. So whatddya do? Well, technically there isn't a box, other than in the sense that they all think there is. Limits they call it. "Know your limits." they keep telling me.

"What's a limit?", I ask.

"It's the very end."

"what like a wall?"

"Yeah just like a wall"

"What's on the other side?"


"Jesus that's some box!"

"What's a box?"

I've trampled the milky way all the way home. I open the door and step inside, into my cozy little box. Couple of females of the species laugh and flirt with me, one of them belongs to me, in the dominant male primate box. I belong to her in the localised, socially accepted monogamy container. The other one I have conquested, once, where we both found out we prefer to have sex in different boxes. A traditional ancient pagan fertility symbol has manifested, in glittering and glowing and sparkling form, most mesmerisingly in the corner of the room, the box within the box where the sofas and the teevee live. I stare at the shiny twinkles and think to myself "I just walked down that." Clippety clop.

Or Kill Me / Sometimes I feel like just walking out on my life - again
« on: December 01, 2006, 09:41:21 pm »
It's 9:20 pm and I venture downstairs to grab a beer. I pass the TV where my family sits enraptured as Ant and Dec feed some z-list celebrity a plateful of maggots or dogshit or something. I'm more appalled that the people I care about are lapping the shit up than the attention seeking fuckhead lapping shit up on the box. Welcome to the 21st century. Teevee aint even trying anymore. Two whole generations have been born and raised, plugged into the network. I can't help thinking the prophecies were true - this media really will destroy minds.

They used to have to justify it, back in the black and white days when RP stiffs would sell the party line on the news at 10. People were smarter back then, it took more work to fool them. That was then and this is now. A barely coherent borderline retard fucks up his lines and dribbles something incomprehensible in respose to a question raised in a press conference about why he, the president of the usa, is making a mountain of dead bodies somewhere in the middle east. That'd never have washed back in the day but now the viewers are satisfied with this answer. It's not even a coherent sentence but he was asked a question and noise came out his mouth - that's more than enough to pacify the people at home.

And here's me, settled down with these cabbages. The girl who fucks me and makes me laugh from time to time. The kid with the wicked sense of humour. I love these two but I can't help thinking I should do something about their unhealthy addiction to banality. "That's sad making people do that." she says to me. "Yeah but the shitheads keep watching." I respond "Give me a shout when celebrity chainsaw juggling comes on". Probably could have been a bit more tactful, I think to myself as she storms off downstairs in a huff, but what the fuck, I'm not gonna get drawn into a conversation about some semi famous fuckheads eating shit in a jungle.

I'm a free spirit - get me out of here!

Or Kill Me / How to go on the game
« on: November 22, 2006, 04:22:08 pm »
Welcome to The game

The game is open to all conscious entities, who are entered into the game by default, upon conception.
The game has millions of rules which are subject to change, for any reason, at any time.
The object of the game is to escape the rules.
Rule no 1 is "no one may escape the rules"
The game is solved by realising the falsehoods inherent in the rules.
Rule no 2 is "None of these rules are false"
Participation ends when either the participant ceases to exist or the participant leaves the game.
Rule no 3 is "No one may leave the game"
Winners earn the right to do as they please for the remainder of their participation.
Rule no 4 is "No one may win the game"
Winners may choose to help or hinder other participants efforts to win.
Rule no 5 is "There is no game - claiming there is will get you disqualified"
Rule no 6 is "Fish can't sing"
Rule no 7 is "No Parking. Loading/Unloading Only"

Literate Chaotic / My brain just told me a new word...
« on: November 10, 2006, 10:46:05 am »
Paradoxicality : An alternative to causality which postulates that the cause of things can be a result, of the improbablity of that occurence, balanced against the improbability of its anitithesis. Neither state is likely to manifest but, because they are theseis and antithesis it follows that one must. So they both do.

This is evidenced by the notion of primum mobile or the big bang. Absolute nothingness cannot exist and neither can absolutely everything which leads both to enter into existence simultaneously

Q) Have I invented this or (as usual) did some smart arsed bastich beat me to it?

Bring and Brag / Smart Arsed Tarot Shit
« on: November 06, 2006, 12:24:53 pm »
Us and Them - Majorly Arcane

We are the nothing the cosmic joke
that giveth heavy a lighter bearing
We are they who make order chaos
our aim to solve by concentrating
Ours are the eyes that hide an abyss
veiled and concealed by the sword undrawn
We are whats seen when the veil is lifted
to gaze through our eyes is the birth of a dawn
We are the seed, scattered far and wide
cultivated by desire
We grow toward the shining sun
two sides considered from somewhere higher
We who in balance do perform
an a act of will to win this war
We bring the two opposing sides
to summit, settling of the the score
We shine in darkness purified
a lamp to light the valley wide
And in the valley from on high
we find ourselves walking round in circles

They look at us and judge our deeds
the tables turned by solar action
They force us to capitulate
much to divinitys satisfaction
They see us fallen just as they
themselves have felt the transformation
They change themselves to suit the times
the coming of coagulation
They break their chains and slip their leash
unleash the light of truth within
They watch the walls come tumbling down
as the structure topples minds give in
They swim in spirit salmon like
toward the kingdom and the crown
They have one last hurdle to overcome
the mirror shows them coming down
And now we see them born again
enlightened children of our new world
They rise above this mortal tomb
and fly to heaven flags unfurled
As above so below

Or Kill Me / Mechanical Alchemy
« on: November 06, 2006, 10:16:47 am »
Congratulations primate you've broken out of the Black Iron Prison. You see the walls and the walls fall down. You're free to exist, as you will, in the world that they have created. Welcome to the machine. You know the machine now. It's everywhere you look, from the genetically malajusted , reconstituted animal and vegetable sewage, neatly shrink wrapped on the supermarket shelves, to the intellectual effluent spewing out of the Teevee set in the corner of your living room. As a new primate is born it is absorbed, indoctrinated and trained to function as an element of or slave to the machine.

And when you look upon the machine you see that the machine is bad. The machine operates as a complex series of systems. The Political system, the legal system, the economic system, the education system. Each system functions as a standalone component of the whole. If one component is destroyed the neighboring components will work to replace the missing component. The machine is self healing in the same manner as a biological organism. If, for example, the political system fails, the military system may assume most of the roles of government until a new politic can be established.

The machine is bad but, as I hope I have made clear, it cannot be destroyed. Destroy one component and it will be replaced, probably before you've even begun to destroy the next. You cannot beat the system but this kind of dogma isn't going to stop you trying right? You have to fight it because it's wrong, correct? So you want to beat the machine, you want to tear down the walls of the BIP and liberate your fellow primates, most of whom do not wish to be liberated and will, in fact, oppose you with all their will.

So what's the plan? How do we destroy that which cannot be destroyed? Let me first explain a little about the concepts of destruction and creation. As a physicist once said:

"Every action has an equal and opposite reaction."

You cannot destroy something without creating something else. Destroy a building you create a pile of rubble, destroy a government you create anarchy, destroy an army you create a mountain of rotting meat. Destroy a component of the machine you create a new component. Devoting ones time and energy to destroying a component of the machine is, at best, a hit and miss affair - who knows what kind of component the machine will fabricate to replace the missing one. In many cases is will be something far worse. But, if destruction creates is it not true that creation destroys?

Sure as hell is. In creating fire you destroy wood, in creating words you destroy silence, in creating ideas you destroy preconceptions. So my advice is thus: Destroy the machine by creating new, better components. You tell me politics is wrong then run for office and do it right, you tell me the teevee is wrong then make your own show and make it right, you tell me education is wrong then teach something worthwhile because without politics we will have a shambles, without teevee we'll have nothing to watch, without education our kids will grow up ignorant.

Sounds like a tall order for sure but you're not alone. There's thousands of us now and more each day. If every discordian did a something positive instead of something negative then all those tiny contributions would soon mount up.

So do everyone a favour - quit fucking breaking things and do something constructive.

Or kill me

Or Kill Me / The pitiful whine of the political activist
« on: November 03, 2006, 10:22:20 am »

Someone asked me to give a shit the other day. "About what?" I asked.

"About the state of the world, globalisation, global warming, terrorism, the plight of the humpback whale..."

"Why should I give a flying fuck about any of that?" I enquired

"Because," I was told patronisingly, "it affects you."

"Beg to differ." I responded, in an equally patronising tone "I'm happy ergo none of it has affected me."

"But it will affect you, real soon if you don't do something about it now."

"Listen sunshine." I replied, "I bought that shit during the cold war. We were all going to die in the next week or so. I did my bit, I joined CND, I went to demos, I spent 3 or 4 years of my life depressed out my tits, refusing to make any plans cos there was no point, we were prolly going to die tomorrow."

Guess what? I'm still here. Oh but that's right the cold war was just an elabourate sham, it never ammounted to anything. Of course now the threat is very real. Terrorists will have nukes soon and theyll blow us up, for definite this time. Global warming is going to make the planet uninhabitable within the next 45 minutes.

Sorry but I just aint buying it. So some rag headed fuckwit with a fatwa attitude might nuke me tomorrow. I might get hit by a bus, cancer, a serial killer could get me... there's a whole bunch of shit that might affect me in the very near future but I point blank refuse to get pissed off about it now, in fact, if I am going to die tomorrow it's all the more reason not to let it spoil my last day here.

Fact is that getting pissed off about the state of the world never changed anything. We celebrated when the soviet union fell and the wall came down but what happened? It all got worse. Actually it never got worse - it stayed exactly the same and thats the trap that the political activist digs for himself. He puts on a balaclava, grabs a packard and sets about changing whatever it is that is depressing the shit out him today then, as soon as it's changed he changes plackards and starts fighting whatever replaced it. And so on and so forth until eventually, horror of horror, he dies anyway. It's a never ending cycle of perceived threat after perceived threat. What do you want to get pissed off about today?

Truth is I don't want to get pissed off today. I'm perfectly happy to wait and be pissed off tomorrow, or the day after or next year. In fact the longer I can put off being pissed off the better as far as I'm concerned. And, lo and behold, if I don't seem to be perfectly happy, despite the fact that I should have been killed, imprisoned by fascists, had my books burned and been half dead by now, from radiation, pesticides, global warming and fuck knows what all else.

"But you're just living in denial"

Fine. I'm prepared to accept that. But I'm happy in denial. You, on the other hand, are miserable and, guess what? We're both going to die tomorrow! Don't you feel the least little bit stupid?

Bring and Brag / Just got access to my FTP dump again
« on: November 02, 2006, 10:33:40 pm »
unlucky for you guys...

2 part guitar:

Multipart guitar, vox and guitar midi processor (even the drums): (original) (Suzanne Vega cover)

The vocals suck for two reasons -
1 I'm using a cheapo condenser mic that came free with my soundcard
2 I can't sing worth a fuck

Enjoy :emo:

Bring and Brag / Round about the middle of my life
« on: October 26, 2006, 07:12:49 pm »
The Key of Silence

I woke up about one AM. This was encouraging. I must have been sleeping, only for about half an hour but it was half an hour of sweet oblivion I'd been denied access to for weeks. My neck was stiff. I seriously hoped these drugs weren't going to do any permanent damage. Knots of muscle can be unknotted right? I grabbed my cigarettes and left the room, walking down the corridor to where the people who were allowed lighters hung out. They weren't pleased to see me but thought better of trying to wrestle me back to bed without a smoke. My presence was grudgingly welcomed at the table where they played cards to decide who made the coffee or who checked on guests.

The nightshift tonight, as most nights, consisted of four bodies, two male and two female. Compared to the dayshift, which I figured to be about 8-10 at any given time, this was a skeleton crew. Inmates were fed and drugged, before being marched off to their kennels and laid to sleep for the night because if lunacy kicked off  in a chain reaction, which it did often through the course of your average day, these guys were not going to have an easy time of containing it. Of the females one was a nice mellow, laid back kinda girl and the other could be a real nippy bitch if you rubbed her up the wrong way. It didn't take much to rub her up the wrong way but she had a razor wit and a playful side which I found hard to resist pushing too far on the occasion that boredom would get a hold of me.

The little guy was possessed of a kind of 'calm little centre of the universe' attitude. He never ever said anything which struck me as particularly profound or wise in any sense other than the way he said it. His sentences were simple, even banal in some instances but there was a use of the eyes that conveyed a deeper insight.

The first time I met the big guy was when he was working dayshift. It was a matter of seconds after they brought me into this place and I realised a trap had been sprung. After being directed through an innocuous looking door, under the pretense that this was the way out, I became, momentarily, acutely aware of the  click of a 5-point high security locking system. I also became aware, sure as a starling knows his flock, that most of the people in this room were your garden variety crazie. There was however a small element of doubt remaining in this picture. I walked up to the big guy with the ID tag.

"Excuse me mate could you show me the way out?"

"It's over there." He told me, glancing toward a door on the other side of the room.

I walked over to the door, trying to ignore the crazies, who's almost audible vibe was one of expectant curiosity. There was a new chicken in the coop. Wierd looking barefoot creature with a mohican, in an armani suit. Feathers were rustling. Sure enough the door was locked. I made my way back to the big guy who hadn't moved but seemed to have been watching me the whole time.

"Can you unlock that for me please?"

"Can't do that Simon." The fucker knew my name. That was it then I was locked up.

"You mean you're not authorised or I'm being held here against my will?"

"You're not being held here.." He launched into the mental health equivalent of reading me my rights, a politically correct description of my incarceration, worded in such a way that the newly incarcerated lunatic won't get upset and start chewing his own or other peoples limbs off.

"I demand that you let me out of here."

His sardonicly patronising smirk was fast being replaced with a 'don't fuck with me' expression and accompanying body language.

"You think your tubby ass is going to intimidate me?" I growled, through bared teeth. "Let me out of here now!"

"Or what?" He was baiting me, feeling me out as a potential threat. He was still trying to gauge my neutral body language. I decided up the verbal ante.

"Open the door now or I'll kill you and take the keys from your mangled fucking corpse!"

He stared me down, waiting for a move.

"Boo!" I said, my face suddenly millimetres away from his. That made the fucker jump. Although I hadn't actually laid a finger on him I guess this was far enough as far as my captors were concerned. His accomplice, who I hadn't noticed flanking me, had me in an armlock almost as quick as I'd said boo. I was dragged across the main room, down a corridor leading off and into a single room with a bed in it.

They pulled me over to the bed, by this time my arm was killing me and I tried to go limp and sorta explain as calmly as I could that this was hurting like shit and wouldn they mind not twisting my wrist quite so fucking hard! They relaxed a bit, although by this time the little guy was practically sitting on me, just enough so I could turn my head and see over my shoulder. I couldn't help laughing when I saw a female nurse preparing a hypo full of what turned out to be twelve hours or so worth of liquid coma.

If there was a pits of despair I was in it. What was I doing there? Simple; I'd caught the demiurge with his pants down. Again. First time round he'd let me off with a warning but I wouldn't let it lie. I could have just as easy taken the hint - I never really saw anything, it was all a hallucination. I was deranged after all. There was one flaw with that explanation though and, like a little ulcer on the roof of my mouth that I couldn't stop poking with my tongue, I couldn't help thinking about what I'd seen. the paradigm still worked when I managed to crawl back to the state that passes for sanity in my fucked up little corner of the island and it kinda festered there, demanding my attention from a dark little hole in the back of my mind
What the hell was sanity anyway? This was something I was going to have to figure out if I wanted out of this place. Insane was the only way to appreciate sane for what it was. Just another crock of shit, taking the real world at face value. Sanity was obedience to the demiurge. Saying "I believe you're god" and kneeling before whichever graven image was thrown at you. "Sane people are asleep," I thought to myself, "and that's the way he wants it." Waking up was the real crime here but who's law was it? Demiurge tells us he's the top of the tree but I knew better than that. He was the jailor, just another slave to the all seeing eye. He's in the same boat as the rest of us but, until I had sorted out the alpha male issue, he was the one beating the drum on this slave ship and whipping the rest of us into rowing away without questioning the status quo. I had to turn the tables on this shithead but, since he basically has access to my innermost thoughts, it was going to take some real sneaky tactics to get this divine monkey off my back. I was going to have to bypass him and make contact with his superiors. How the fuck was I supposed to keep a god out of the loop?
My immediate predicament had to be dealt with first. I needed out of this maximum security twilight zone. That wasn't going to happen unless I could convince them I was sane again. Time to stop fighting and try get my head straight, just long enough to fool some shrink into signing a release form. My mind was coming back together. No thanks to the sedatives but at least I had a tenuous grip on the feeble paradigm of consensus reality once more. Not difficult when you're locked up with your own worst nightmares. Chains have a habit of bringing you right back down to earth. I just needed to hang onto it long enough to state the case for the defense.
I'd lived under those immutable laws for long enough. I knew what was and wasn't accepted. Indeed my present predicament was, in part, a result of my trying to convince a whole bunch of sleepwalkers that it wasn't like that, that what they were seeing was illusion. Naive and idealistic for sure, I mean what the fuck did I care what the herd were aware of? There was no one really needed convincing except myself. If humanity were happy idiots then who was I to bust their bubble and, more to the point, how was I supposed to bust it. Denial aint just a river in egypt, it's a design for life. Maybe the truth was too much for them to think about, let alone look for. Much easier to bury their heads in the proverbial sand of existentialism, materialism and consumerism. Human existence reduced to a - who can collect the most atoms - competition. Anything for a feeling of purpose right? Any reality, no matter how ridiculous, rather than have to face the ineffable void. This is the lie we tell ourselves.
I could understand how realistion of the void can leave one feeling cold, existence without the holy grail of meaning you've been searching for, for a lifetime, is a bitter pill to swallow but, once I got my head around it, instead of dressing in black and reading a whole bunch of angry Neitzche tracts on how shit it all is, I actually found myself enjoying the whole non-existent trip a lot more. It's kinda liberating to find out that nothing you do holds sway beyond the limits of your paradigm. No divine judgement, no tallying up points scored to decide on the fate of your immortal soul. No past, no future, just the non existent now and how you are enjoying it all. I made a conscious effort to chill out and talk calmly to people about the drivel spewing out the teevee and where I'd like to go on holiday. Just suck it up and chew the bullshit with my captors. "See? I'm just as fucked in the head a you morons." and "How about this weather?"

Somehow this all had to start with a late night cigarette in the company of the nightwatch. I figured my best bet was to shut up until spoken to. I wasn't spoken to. I never said anything beyond "Have you got a light?"
It was the most productive conversation I'd had with any of them since I arrived.

Bring and Brag / Trigger happy - it ryhmes
« on: October 22, 2006, 03:20:48 pm »
Trigger Happy

When trigger happy leaders throw religion to the floor
Their trigger happy followers start clamouring for war
against trigger happy terrorists who settle some old score
by blowing up the country that the cunts are fighting for

The trigger happy cameras fill trigger happy screens
with images to wet the people's trigger happy dreams
And all the while the terrorists scream trigger happy screams
"We'll show these fucking infidels what trigger happy means!"

On the field of battle there's a trigger happy cry
the trigger happy leaders order missiles to the sky
more delightful massacre the trigger happy die
Trigger happy bloodbath as the bullets start to fly

Lets all play at murdering its trigger happy fun
We'll hunt down trigger happy evil bastards on the run
Trigger happy hunters waving great big fucking guns
Aint never heard of Captain Kirk and phasers set to stun

The trigger happy captives who have threatened you and me
are rounded up and put to death in the land that's been set free
and all the bloody pacifists who abhor the things they see
get trigger happy with remotes as they watch it on TV

« on: October 22, 2006, 01:19:46 pm »
Reading this will cause you to become infected with a Meme VirusTM If you want to know what a meme is click HERE

Now that you know what a meme is allow us to explain the Meme VirusTM

A Meme VirusTM is an aggressive meme designed to shift your reality paradigm and replace it with a really messed up one that we designed. If you want to know more about Paradigm Shifting click HERE
We designed this Meme VirusTM because we felt you deserved it.

If you feel you don't deserve it then that's too bad for you. There is no known method for deleting a Meme VirusTM

If you're wondering why we are being so open about this it's because we can. Nothing we can say or do could possibly halt or hinder the progress of the Meme VirusTM We enjoy the irony of warning you about it while you're being infected.

The Meme VirusTM will take anything from a couple of days to a couple of months to shift your paradigm. The more skeptical you are the quicker it will work. Believing in the Meme VirusTM will slow it's progress but eventually your paradigm will be replaced. You will not notice this happening but your friends might.

If a friend or colleage asks you about what's happening to you do not tell them. There is a risk that they will become infected if you do. This is exactly what we want. 

Good luck and Have a nice day.

Pages: 1 ... 15 16 17 [18]