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[Jihad]

Jihad (or Allah Loves Wonderous Diversity)

I say    No! No! No! You can't take me
   No! No! No! I won't bend
I say   No! No! No! You can't make me
   No! No! until the bitter end.

You strap on a bomb and you blow up a market
The blood of the infidel washes away
~ Every sin that you may have committed

And the sins of the children who died here today
Leave the tears of the mothers to baptize the lucky
'Cause the salt of their tears are all they have left

You rub salt to the wounds of your people
Offer salt for the wounds of your people

I say   Yes. Yes. Yes. They can break you
Yes. Yes. Yes. You must hide
I say    No. No. No I can't save you
From the men who believe in the "other" guy.

They'll come pick you up in a black hellicopter
And whisk you away to Guantanamo Bay
They'll strip off your clothes, and they'll have you committed.

They'll leave you to rot in your own little cell
Don't you know that you rot in your own little cell?
You rot in your own little terrorist cell.

No matter what you do or say
No matter what you do or say

I say    Fools. Fools. Fools go to battle
Without cause. Cause. Cause or remorse
I say   What? What? What are you cattle?
To ascribe to the belief that there's no other course.

I once had a talk with an old friend of mine
It must've lasted all of three minutes
And when we were through we had deeply resolved

That ev'ry man wants love and all blessings
Ev-er-y man wants love and all blessings
Everyman wants love and all blessings

There is no other guy
There is no "other" guy

It's easy to write a song about love.
It's easy to write a song about hate.
I want a song that I can UNDERSTAND
I think therefore I am - Descartes is out to lunch.
And I can't find a seat at Rousseau's brunch.

She said maybe I will join you for the ball
You how much she loves to be indiscreet
She don't dance to music and she don't feel the beat
From the tip of her cerebrum to the soles of her feet

Everybody's working for the hump day
Everybody seems like Wednesday's child
We shuffle up our playlists and we cry like crocodiles
Lamenting that our nature's not sufficiently wild

She asked me how I felt - I almost fell
And I stammered on my way down to the floor
faltering and falling I said I feel the light
as we drifted into some unprivate hell

It's easy to write a song about love.
It's easy to write a song about hate.
I want a song that I can UNDERSTAND
I think therefore I am - Descartes is out to lunch.
And I can't find a seat at Rousseau's brunch.

IF I HEAR OR SEE ONE MORE FUCKING PROGRAM ABOUT 2012, I SWEAR I WILL FIND EVERYONE AND KILL THEM ON DEC 23, 2012

I will punch "Dawg the Bounty Hunter" square in the nuts. 

Hi all. I'm Torodung, and this is Harry The Hippo. I'm pretty much a newb, but you can see that from my post count, so be sure to tell the newb how you liked the picture.

"Harry The Hippo" is a character a friend of mine invented. Any person who walks into a crime scene and starts moving bodies, working without gloves, etc. in his stories was deemed "A Hippo." The guy was pretty heavy into CSI, and I drew his cartoon Hippo for him, and people at his fictional detective agency would dress up as Hippos and talk to the kids like "McGruff the Crime Dog."



Enjoy.

[four]

Imagine, if you will, an airplane full of passengers. They are wonderful, happy passengers. They get their drinks off a cart, and they play with their portable devices, and they are altogether pleased with the fact that they are 30,000 feet above the ground.

Their plane, of course, is on fire. They can't see the fire.

Some numbers to get out of the way. The plane is subdivided into first class and coach. It has 23 rows, yet the last row is row 24 because some superstitious bastard decided to skip row 13 when numbering.

In coach, each row has five seats, on the left (facing forwards) are seats "A" and "B," and on the right are seats "D," "E," and "F." Again, the bastards decided to skip something, perhaps to save money. In first class, the seats are "A," "B," "D," and "E" and there is some debate as to why there is no seat "F." No one mentions the lack of a seat "C," however.

And as this plane burns, the folks in first class (rows 1-5) don't even notice the smoke, because it is being carefully pumped into the tail section of the plane. They sip their wine, and smear their pate, and not a one of them notices a thing but how pleasing it is to be sitting in rows of only four seats, with service, and the accompanying smug sense of superiority.

Behind the curtain, in rows 6-10, passengers are frightened, but assured of their survival as they hunch over in a "duck and cover" position, provided for by the safety instructions contained in the seat back pockets.

In rows 11-14, the 15 passengers loudly argue about the fact that the plane might catch fire, that the plane will catch fire, and should the plane catch fire, that there aren't enough parachutes. This loud speculative ranting is the cause of most of the fear in rows 6-10.

In rows 15-24, as the smoke from the front of the plane pours in through the vents, people are just happy that the captain has turned off the "no smoking" sign, and since there's no point in fighting fate, they light up and smoke whatever they can find. They cheerily sing the song "Disco Inferno" and would dance in the aisles, if they could find them through all the smoke.

William Shatner sits in seat 24F and stares outside at a man on the wing. "There's a man on the wing of the airplane!" he exclaims. No one has seen that episode, so they ignore him.

THE PROPHET is alone on the wing of the airplane and whereas the passengers cannot see the fire, he cannot see the plane. He is, of necessity, on fire, dancing about like a maniac and screaming at the top of his lungs at the folks in the cabin. He says one or all of the following:

a) Oh my GOD I'm on fire! IT BURNS!
b) Did you notice there's no row 13?!
c) Did you notice there's no seat C?!
d) Does anyone have a flame retardant parachute?!
e) I hate you all for burning me like this!!

He bears a ticket stub, with seating assignment 13C.

Was going through my old links and turned up this:

http://www.netherworld.com/~mgabrys/william/index.html

Pure gold. Click on the "previous" link to see the complete list.

Enjoy.