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[F?ºr P?ºrse: A Biography.]

F?ºr P?ºrse: A Biography.

With a repertoire stretching back to 1969, F?ºr P?ºrse aims to bring back the spirit and sound of Punk Rock, from the originators to the later generations.  Faced with the prospect of writing songs that sounded like the music they grew up with and loved, they decided to take the more honest route, and actually play the songs that inspired them in the first place. 

A partial list of bands covered by F?ºr P?ºrse:
Black Flag, Misfits, Buzzcocks, Public Image Limited, Replacements, H?ºsker D?º, The Cure, Ramones, Operation Ivy, The Briefs, Magazine, The Runaways, The Pixies, Sub Humans, Supersuckers, Stiff Little Fingers, The Stooges.

Personnel:

GREGORY PECKER, This Guitar:  Brings the Live Free or Die mentality from his years spent in the granite quarries of New Hampshire.  Clearly the most attractive one in the band, Gregory currently spends his days alphabetizing his collection of hearts he has broken.

THUNDERCOCK JOHNSON, That Guitar:  Growing up as a sharecropper in Georgia, Thundercock couldn,Äôt afford a guitar pick, and learned how to sharpen his index finger into a six-string shredding weapon.  Currently under surveillance by the national Security Agency, he is only allowed limited access to public transportation.

DAME ASHBURNHAM, Vocals:  Somewhere in central Massachusetts, a throat was born.  No one knew what planets aligned that day, safe to say it was a configuration like no other.  While its true she has beat Danzig in an arm wrestling match (best 2 out of 3), she is even better known for her 2003 translation of The Iliad, which contains the only correct translation of the epithet of Zeus, ,Äúpetty bastard wanker who owes me twenty bucks.,Äù

PHYLLIS KILLER, Bass:  Straight from Miss Splinter,Äôs School for Troubled Girls, Phyllis holds the record for heart attacks induced via bass cabinet (seven).  She was asked to resign from a promising career as an astronaut when she definitively proved that in space, you can actually hear someone scream.  She was acquitted due to a lack of evidence.

CURBJOB, Drums:  The less said about him, the better.

http://mihd.net/

I'm writing a techno-industrial song called "Too Many Goddamn Vampires" that I intend to get played at the local goth night (it's good to be friends with the DJ).

What I need:

1.  An audio clip of the last line in Lost Boys: "The one thing about Santa lara I never could stomach... too many goddamn vampires."

2.  Things you find funny and annoying about people who pretend to be vampires (for lyrical content).  Rhyming not required.


kthnxbye.

Ok, because I'm way too lazy, I have an idea for any of you aspiring authors out there.

It came to me in a dream (and yes, i actually dream like this).

Jesus made Peter the first Pope.  And Peter's goal was to bring about the second coming of Christ.

Also, since Peter was not Christ, he was the first false prophet.

Simply put: The Catholic Church is the actual Antichrist of Revelations, actively trying to bring about Armageddon.  The Crusades, the tacit acceptence of Hitler, all these things were an attempt to bring about the destruction of the earth. 

Selective SSOOKN tricks can link Revelations to the history of the Catholic Church.

The plot being, basically, the protagonist finding all of this out while on the run from Evil Antichrist Nuns and eventually trying to kill the pope.  Naturally, "evidence" of this horrible truth will be found along the way.




Waddaya thinK?

In the following story, each ----------- represents a page break.  I could really use an illustrator who can draw this for me, please.




This is Johnny.


----------------


Johnny wants to learn about the world.

He decides that his eyes will tell him about the world.


---------------


Johnny sees a bird.
[picture of a sitting bird.  Its wings are folded, and it,Äôs blue.]

It is a blue bird.


----------------


[bird flies off. The feathers under its wings are red.]
Oh, no!  It is a red bird!


Now Johnny knows that birds are blue and red.


----------------


[bird flies into tree, and perches on a branch.]
Johnny sees the bird,Äôs feet.

Oh, No!  They are yellow!

Now birds are blue and red and yellow!

What other kinds of things can birds be?


-----------------


[bird flies off, disturbing an apple, which falls to the ground.]
Look, an apple!

The apple is red.


------------------


[Johnny bites into the apple, exposing the interior.]
Oh, no!  The apple is white!

And the apple is sweet!


-----------------


[Johnny bites into a rotten part of the apple, showing it,Äôs bruise.]
Oh, no!  The apple is brown!

And the apple is bitter!

Johnny knows that an apple is red and white and sweet and bitter.

What else is an apple?


---------------------


[Johnny leans up against the tree and looks up.]
The tree is rough.

And the tree is tall.


---------------------


[Johnny has leaned into a puddle of oozing sap.]
Oh, no!  The tree is sticky!


--------------------


[Johnny looks up to see a much taller tree.]
Oh, no!  The tree is short!

Johnny knows that trees are rough and sticky and tall and short.

What else is a tree?


----------------------


[Johnny points to something off the page.]

Johnny sees HIMEOBS.


----------------------

























[The book simply ends there.]

This topic has been moved to The O:M Forum because it's not finished yet.

http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=12010.0

Give me my goddamn country back!

Leave me the hell alone!

How does spying on us catch terrorists?

They think YOU are a criminal.

Hush!  Uncle Sam is listening!

Closed mouths sink republics.

Black sheep are still sheep.

Don't think

Beware of falling hammers

The pope is dead

Existence is futile

Jesus sells

RESIST THIS IMPULSE

Enough glass in your diet?
smash -HERE- to find out

Care for a penis snifter?

It's not rape if you let them tap your ass.

The police are your friends.

Secure your future: Declare yourself Jesus while masturbating in public.

In the US, TV watches you. In Soviet Russia, you watch TV.

All men are created equal, some more equal than others.

Orwell wasn't right... he was dead on.

Population Growth does not constitute Human Advancement

Now you know how Cattle Feel.

Wait you're worried about your Boss seeing your e-mails? 

There is nothing to worry about, ever, really!

Bliss is a Dirt Sandwhich!

You have 30 seconds to forget this message

We have this area under surveillance

Don't forget to die

Recycle your pets (not mine but it's a classic)

1984 - only 22 years late.

Have your furries spayed and neutered!

Only Mana looks good in a dress, dude.

RUN WHILE YOU STILL HAVE LEGS!

WE WILL MARCH ON A ROAD OF BONES.

The revolution has abandoned you-
       You're on your own now

Sooner or later we'll get your kids

Caution! - Suspicious contents (good for vending machines/mailboxes)

Congratulations! - You've found clue no.3
The man in the green jacket will tell you what to do next.

You SHOULD have picked door number 2!

Forget about your rights and they'll go away.

Boobs are not your friend.

Kill Your Idols.

R.I.P - Habeus Corpus 1782-2006


after birth is before death

Give me my goddamn country back!

Leave me the hell alone!

How does spying on us catch terrorists?

They think YOU are a criminal.

Hush!  Uncle Sam is listening!

Closed mouths sink republics.

the unknown has done nothing to warrant it being something worth fearing

It doesn't matter what you do. you still die.

Freedom can be taken away
but its more likely given away

"The Bucket is Going to Kick You!"

"Just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they aren't out to get you."

THIS IS YOUR TRUE DESIRE.

The mainstream is a sewer.  Learn to swim.

Your time has come.  Make your arrangements.

There is no Santa Claus. It's your parents.
PS. Same goes for Jesus.

"Thank you for your contribution to the mainstream" (to be painted on a toilet cistern)

"Die and be free of pain or live and fight your sorrow"

"Sometimes your best just isn't good enough."

"Average" isn't.

"Life comes at you fast, if you're lucky."

those who don't queston their own beliefs probably shouldn't have any
a belief is just a thought you keep having

"Every statement contains falsehood"

A conclusion is simply where you stopped thinking

Reality is not a persistent hallucination.

"Reality does not give a shit about your opinions."

"Why are you too good to die?"

"With age, ignorant altrusim looks more and more like calculated wickedness."

"Constitution is not just a D&D stat."

Live fast, live slow, die anyway.

Concrete thinking is still a metaphor

All the horrible shit you're paranoid of is coming true.

YOUR MIND IS UNDER CONTROL.

Hot Topic is to rebellion as Hot Pockets are to nutrition.

While you were playing Warcraft, we were saving lives.

While playing Resident Evil, you turned into what you were just killing.

While you were installing Vista, Bill Gates was stealing your identity. 

While you were sleeping last night, we killed your puppy. 

Do what you want to say

If ignorance is bliss, wipe that smile off your face.

If you fuck the system without protection something nasty is bound to happen.

"when you act like someone is your enemy, they'll soon start playing to the role as they feel threatened."

America brought democracy to my country and all I got was tortured.


Consume, conform, OBEY!

"R. J. Reynolds wishes you a happy, healthy, new year."

"We care about your saftey as much as you care about our profit margin. -The Mgt"

"Suicide is against the law!"

"... is for your own good"

"Reason is the Illusion of Reality."

"Reality is the Illusion of Reason."

"I SUPPORT MORE TROOPS THAN YOU."

Those you think are your friends are really your enemies...
and those you think are your enemies are still your enemies...

"Contrary to what you may have made yourself to believe, no one really gives a shit about what you think." 

"Give me liberty or I'll fucking kill you!"

There are no extras in THIS movie.

Read less, live more.

Boredom is counterrevolutionary.

No replastering, the structure is rotten.

We want nothing of a world in which the certainty of not dying from hunger comes in exchange for the risk of dying from boredom.

Plebiscite: Whether we say yes or no, it makes chumps of us.

Don't negotiate with the bosses. Abolish them.

The boss needs you, you don't need him.

Please leave the Communist Party as clean on leaving as you would like to find it on entering.

Be realistic, ask for the impossible.

They buy your happiness. Steal it.

Beneath the paving stones - the beach!

Neither God nor master!

Let's be cruel!

How can one think freely in the shadow of a chapel?

Live without dead time [time of boredom, time at work] - enjoy without chains.

It is forbidden to forbid.

Meanwhile everyone wants to breathe and nobody can breathe and many say, "We will breathe later". And most of them don't die because they are already dead.

In a society that has abolished all adventures, the only adventure left is to abolish society.

The liberation of humanity will be total or it will not be.

The revolution is unbelievable because it's real.

I came. I saw. I believed. [Mimics Veni, vidi, vici.]

Run, comrade, the old world is behind you!

It's painful to suffer the bosses; it's even stupider to pick them.

A single nonrevolutionary weekend is infinitely more bloody than a month of permanent revolution.

Happiness is a new idea. [To be happy is a new notion.]

Culture is the inversion of life.

Poetry is in the street.

Art is dead, don't consume its corpse.

Alcohol kills. Take LSD.

Arise, you wretched of the University. [Mimics The Internationale.]

Even if God existed, it would be necessary to abolish him. [Paraphrases Bakunin.]

Workers of the world, have fun! [Mimics "Workers of the world, unite!"]

Power to the Imagination.

Be young - shut up!

I take part
you take part
he takes part
we take part
you all take part
they profit.

"It's not a benefit unless you use it."

Are you trying to tell me that there was a time before celebrities?

Famous people are delicious.

Even Beyonce's booty can't save ____

The fate of the nation is in my hands and I've got a booger.

Nothing bad ever happens if you don't do anything.

It's only due to modern technology that you can be as pleasingly plump as you are.

Let's go stomp those weirdies for Jesus!

Until you realize the power of an archetype/symbol, it's just another bar in your cell.

If life gives you lemons, build a rocket-powered lemon gun.

If life gives you lemons, find a small child with open wounds.

Too much Freedom can be extremely unpleasant.

Freedom is a VERB.

http://earfatigue.multiply.com/music/item/123

Yeah, it's an X-Post.


Last three on that list, "21st Century Angst", "Veng Test" and "Vexaphod 1".


This is shaping up to be a productive week.

http://earfatigue.multiply.com/music/item/123

New things to listen to:

"21st Century Angst"

"POEEcast Veng Test 2"

"Vexaphod 1"





My computer's back from the dead, apparently.

Ok, it has pretty much been agreed upon that we will never all agree upon the use of BIP as a name or metaphor.  Some like it, some don't.

However, I don't hear anyone saying anything against the contents of what the metaphor stands for.

So, as I posted before, but got buried, here's what we do.

If you don't like the BIP metaphor, write your own metaphor.  That's right, write an essay on what you thing best captures what we're trying to say.  Whether it's the Golden Sphere of Opportunity, The Dream in a Dream, or Happy Funtime Dachau, write it down.

Then, we'll gather all those together, and put out a pdf called "7 Ideas of One Thing", or however many essays we get.  I'm already writing a new BIP essay.



Ok, get to it.  Put money where your mouths are.

Also known as BIP dumpster diving. 

ARCHITECTURE.

DJRubberducky:  From what I can tell, the exterior walls of the BIP are put in place by our existence as humans.  As it has been said before in other treatises, our perceptions are limited by the relatively narrow ranges of our physical senses, and by the fact that our brains can only process so much information at a given time.  Even when we try to expand our sensory ranges by building and using mechanical devices, it's very difficult for us to observe both those expanded ranges and our "natural" ranges - we have to focus our attention on what's under the microscope and can't necessarily notice the fire that just caught in the far corner of the laboratory.  This is why we can never fully escape the Black Iron Prison - we either don't have the sensory perception, or we don't have the mental processing power, and if we try to expand both at once, we end up frying our brains with data overload.  None can look upon the face of God and live.

However, the BIP is chock full of interior walls, and we can smash those to our heart's content because we're the ones who put them there, or who allowed them to be put there (which is almost the same thing).  Smashing those walls doesn't change the fact that we're in prison, but it gives us a little more wiggle room.

One of the troubles in wall-smashing, though, is that many of us knock down a wall, then take those bricks and use them to build a new and different wall.  I actually had that revelation back in high school, but only in a very specific sense - I was complaining about how so many guitarists wanted to sound like Jimi Hendrix because "he was so innovative".  That idea just totally boggled my mind.  They admired Hendrix for being innovative, so they were going to very diligently copy everything he had already done, and think they were somehow better for it.  Hendrix had smashed a wall, and these kids were very meticulously picking up the bricks and building a new one - but it was okay because this was a Hendrix wall and therefore cooler than the other walls out there!

On the other hand, is it bad to rebuild walls in new and different places?  If you knock down too many walls without rebuilding at least one or two somewhere else, do you risk collapsing the ceiling on yourself and going completely mad?  (If you want to argue whether or not going mad is a bad thing, let's do that elsewhere.)  And is it somehow less offensive to live with walls that you have built, since you chose to have them there and you will probably remain aware of their existence?  I tend to think it is - if a girl who grows up reaping all the benefits of gender equality who *chooses* to be a stay-at-home mom when she grows up is (in my opinion) better off than a girl who grew up never knowing that she didn't have to do that if she didn't want to.

SillyCybin:  Awareness of what you're doing is liberation. The truth will set you free. Walls are just a metaphor. You don't knock them down as much as you knock down your own preconceived notions of what power these walls have to contain you.

LHX:  You can rip down walls and use the material to help solidify your foundation.  The grass is never greener in other places, but there is some benefit to be had from viewing things from a different perspective.  Perhaps part of the trick is also to become a expert at putting them up and tearing them down, painting on them then cleaning them up.  Variety.

Nurbldoff:  Maybe the trick is to realize that breaking the walls doesn't necessarily mean you have to escape through them afterwards; the important thing is knowing that you can if you want or need to.  Of course this might lead to laziness if you just convince yourself there is no wall but never actually investigate. Then in a sense you might as well still be locked up.

Jenne:  About the "knocking down a wall just to build another with the bricks of the now-destroyed wall" thing...I think there's also a problem with people WANTING there to be walls.  They are not comfortable with the knowledge and subsequent actions of freedom.  When you've lived in a prison all your life, and you are shown said-prison, you miss the prison when you're able to remove it, even if you've worked hard to break it down.  For some people, anyway.

I mean, whatcha gonna blame everything on now you're free?  Yourself?  Nah.  You've been told over and over that it's your parents, your schooling, your president that have you under their thumbs.  When you remove those thumbs...what's next?

So you run to another thumb, because without that pressure, you're not sure what to do anymore.  Living and breathing on your own, like a newborn babe, is a scary venture, esp for the self-aware.

LMNO:  But what about this:  Order and Disorder balance, right?  The structured order of words inside the poetry of ee cummings, et al.  So, when you break down all walls, you've removed all structures you can control.  So, what do you do?  Where do you go?  You've essentially obliterated all internal aspects of reality.  In order to function in the external reality, you need to rebuild.  Only this time, you can draw up the blueprints.

Jenne:  In other words, drawing up that blueprint is rather a process, isn't it?  And it's not easily taught, because it's different for every person.  So, if you suggest to people that they tear down that security wall (remember, the prison protects you even as it protects others from you), you have to give them the CAD to draw other blueprints,Ķ Well, you do if you want your impression to last and not be discarded for just another mf.

You accuse people of being jailed (rightly so), but in showing them how to destroy said cell, you leave out the part of what to do next?  That will create as many problems as it does solutions.

Ok, the fact that "Black Iron Prison" is a PKD ripoff has come up a few times, so I hereby announce a challenge:


Please come up with a new name for the BIP metaphor.  Hopefully, one that can still use the original essays with only minor edits.



Go.

So, I was at a party the other night.  As I am of a certain age, it was a cocktail party, wine, hors de oeuvres, all that stuff.  Anyway, I was shooting the shit with some yuppie woman who works with my wife, and the subject of philosophy came up.  After a bit of back and forth, I decided to broach the subject of the BIP principles.

,ÄúSo, the first think I think is that people need to think for themselves.,Äù

,ÄúYeah, of course.,Äù

,ÄúWell, the second thing is that because of the way we perceive things, we,Äôre limited in the amount of  the Universe we can objectively sense.,Äù

,ÄúMmm-hmm.,Äù

,Äú,ĶAnd, um, so we,Äôre sort of trapped by our own frameworks of the way we see reality.,Äù

,ÄúOkay, sure.,Äù  But her eyes were as dead as any corpse.

And that,Äôs when I realized something:  A lot of what we,Äôre trying to say here are things that just about everybody will agree with.  I mean, who,Äôs going to disagree with a suggestion to think for themselves?  The main problem isn,Äôt that people don,Äôt understand the BIP, it,Äôs that they don,Äôt think it applies to them, or that they,Äôve already dealt with the problem.  How many American Idol fans think they,Äôre independent thinkers because they voted for one of the losers? 

Is this, then, one of the ,Äúreally real,Äù reasons behind O:M?  To make people really understand these principles?  How can you make a person who,Äôs convinced that they think for themselves and believe that they understand the scarcity of their perceptions actually realize it?

Then another thought struck me:  What if the BIP simply doesn,Äôt matter?  What if it,Äôs just another artificial construct that we thought up to try to make ourselves seem important and insightful?

At that point, I got drunk and ornery, and my wife drove us home.

What's the best way to deal with the Black Iron Prison?

I feel I'm missing something, here.

[The Golden Sphere of Possibility]

The Golden Sphere of Possibility

So, a bunch of us were hanging out in a bar, and I came across this flyer:

Hello, friend.  Welcome to the Golden Sphere of Possibility.

You think you just woke up here one day, right?¬† Think again.¬† It was your whole life that brought you to this.¬† Fact is, you were born to be here.¬† Go ahead, look around.¬† I,Äôll be here when you get back.

Looks smaller than it is, don,Äôt it?¬† It doesn,Äôt even feel all that bad.¬† But sometimes, you look through the shimmering concave arc, and you see all that you,Äôre missing.¬† Abandoned ambitions.¬† Best-left-forgotten dreams.¬† Things that could-have-been.¬† Here, put your palms up to the Sphere, touch the surface, let me show you something.

Feel that?¬† That,Äôs all the books you,Äôve read.¬† And that parabola over there is your adolescence.¬† Look up:¬† It,Äôs your CD collection.¬† The pallet you woke up on?¬† Your parents.¬† Like I said, you were born to be here.¬† It,Äôs your life, it,Äôs the golden encapsulation of your own existence.¬† You painted yourself into this vessel.

So, now you,Äôre wondering why you feel that anything inside your sphere is possible, in your own life.¬† Why now, why today, can you see the sloping sides of a Golden Sphere of Possibility, that you made for yourself?¬† Because you stopped reacting inside of it, and took a couple of steps forward.¬† You thought you could do the impossible, you tried to be self reliant, and bang.¬† You smacked your head against the sphere.

What,Äôs that?¬† Yeah.¬† That,Äôs when the knowledge of the end of the Possible sets in.¬† When you didn,Äôt know you were inside, everything was fine.¬† But now that you know, you can see your entire, tired, call-and-response life stretch out before you, enclosed in this curved wall, this round capsule.¬† Breathe, kid.¬† It,Äôs just abject panic that you,Äôre feeling right now.¬† Some even say that this is what death feels like:¬† An unchanging life, immune and unfeeling to what you really want.

Look around you.¬† Look at these golden, curved walls.¬† The glimmering ceiling.¬† The hard ground.¬† That,Äôs your universe.¬† That,Äôs the world you,Äôre going to be living in for the rest of your life here in the Sphere.¬† You,Äôre going to live out your life only being able to do what,Äôs limited to what you have created.¬† Or, not so quiet if you decide to take the rifle/bell tower route.¬† Either way, long or short, it,Äôll feel the same.¬† Static, unchanging.¬†

So, if you,Äôre interested, I,Äôd like to invite you pop the bubble,Ķ

Just turn around.


I turned to the group and said, ,ÄúSo, we have the same metaphor, with different words.¬† That is to say, the Black Iron Prison and the Golden Sphere of Possibility both say, ,ÄúThere is a limit to what you know, shaped by how you see it, physically, mentally, and emotionally.¬† See it as a prison, preventing you from what's outside your knowledge, see it as a sphere, containing all you know within it:¬† What's the difference?,Äù

Then RWHN said, ,ÄúI know, ultimately, it's the same idea but I can see the Possibility vs. Prison being seized upon.¬† They could seem to be different ideas.,Äù

,ÄúWell, that's an interesting side digression, in an optimist/pessimist way,,Äù I replied.¬† ,ÄúAngle:¬† The BIP implies we are held back from knowledge, and we desire a way out.¬† The Sphere implies that we are comfortable in our ignorance.,Äù

RWHN frowned.¬† ,ÄúPerhaps some of us, I'm including myself, cling to the BIP metaphor too much, maybe?¬† Do we need a new name?¬† Do we need a name?,Äù

I replied, ,ÄúWe need new metaphors.,Äù

LHX interjected, ,Äúfuck yeah there needs to be a new name.¬† Either a new name or no name.¬† Because it is a gold sphere just as much as it is a black iron prison.,Äù

Triple zero piped up, ,Äúabout the optimist versus pessimist way...¬† Yes, at first I thought ,Äòbut what if people will say, but I LIKE it in here, and I am not getting out either way,Äô?¬† Prison makes people wish for a way out, a comfortable golden womb of existence just makes people want to snuggle in and make sure they've got enough for their comfort.

,ÄúIsn,Äôt the basic premise of what we are looking for in the BIP that it isn't comfortable? at least, not just right now but if I work just a little longer and harder I might get upgraded to the cell which doesn't leak from the ceiling?

,ÄúAbout the name...¬† Well, I think LMNO has demonstrated here that some names work better than others...
And the Discordian network...¬† Well...¬† It's not really catchy enough to catch on, I think...¬† How about the Abstract Container?,Äù

,ÄúNo emotional resonance,,Äù I replied.¬† ,ÄúBasically, I think we should work with the BIP, Machine,Ñ¢, System¬Æ, CoN, et al until someone has a breakthrough that changes our perceptions.¬† We can try to rephrase, re-parcel the concept and see what becomes of it, such as: The Property Line, The End of our Fingertips, The Goldfish Bowl, The Frying Pan and the Fire, or some such.¬† Each of these new imaginings will lead to new ways of looking at the metaphor.,Äù

,ÄúThis place is like 'build-your-own-belief-system',,Äù chuckled LHX, ,Äúand then launch it to see how far it goes.,Äù

,ÄúHell, I stole my personal concept of the BIP from RAW's "reality grid" idea,,Äù I retorted, ,Äúso it's not like we're working with brand new material here.,Äù

,ÄúWhat about ,ÄòGolden Paradise Concentration Camp,Äô?,Äù asked Benaclypse.

,Äú,ÄòHappy Funtime Dachau,Äô,,Äù I shot back.

Ignoring us, SillyCybin said, ,ÄúLHX, I think you're on to something with 'build-your-own-belief-system'.¬† Many criticisms, including mine, of BIP in general are the negative connotations, reactive vs proactive.¬† 'Prison' is a threat; 'build your own' is opportunity.¬† I suggest an instruction manual for DIY belief: Paradigm Schematics, Metaphysical Knitting Patterns, Black Iron Blueprints... BIP exposed a problem. The sequel should be possible solutions.,Äù

After thinking about it a bit, LHX said, ,ÄúJailbreak is more the theme than BIP.,Äù

,ÄúReconstruction,,Äù added Cain.

,ÄúYeah,,Äù replied LHX, ,Äúin a way, that seems to be what a lot of the writing here is about; offering a new observation and launching a new proposal to the common situation (even tho it gets interpreted as 'us' = good, 'they' = bad).,Äù

,ÄúI loved that bit in BIP,,Äù said SillyCybin.¬† ,Äú,ÄôYou're invited to a Jailbreak,Äô (paraphrased) but then it all got a bit ,ÄòYou're in Jail,,Äô ,ÄòJail is bad,Äô... there were positive ideas but they tended to get drowned out in all the doom and gloom.¬† You could just call the sequel 'Jailbreak'.¬†

,ÄúI,Äôm just riffing here, but here are some ideas: What it looks like out there - a guide to recognizing your escape vector.¬† Black Iron Blueprints - some of the metaphysical diagrams that have been posted lately and probably before I even got here.¬† Picking the locks on your own mind - psychological reverse engineering and paradigm shifting from beginner to advanced (mantras, koans, self hypnosis, deconditioning.. etc).,Äù

,ÄúI think just observing our cell is one of the main keys,,Äù I said, ,Äúseeing that it's there, and what it's made of begins to offer specific, personal solutions that one doesn't need to share, because it's specific to your own BIP.,Äù

Triple zero spoke up.¬† ,ÄúWhat if we made it into a board game?¬† Basically, it would contain a whole bunch of both good points and bad points of all the religions and ideas we (and anybody) can come up with.¬† For example, Christianity in all its virtues and flaws; same for Buddhism, Islam, Discordianism, flying spaghetti-ism, paganism, Cthulhu worship etc.¬† Then the kid starts to play with it, put different concepts together, and notice what works and what doesn,Äôt.

,ÄúSo for that to happen,,Äù he continued, ,Äúthere need to be ,Äòethical challenge,Äô cards in it.¬† Stuff that tests things like ,Äòdoes your current religious allow for raping 6 year old girls?,Äô, and more difficult challenges can become puzzling.¬† ¬†For example: ,Äòhmm, but to obtain all those ,Äòsave the dolphins,Äô points, I would need to play this ,Äòkill 11/12 of humanity,Äô dogma-card.,Äô¬† Also, it should not really mention the actual religion the rule is lifted from.

,ÄúAnd the ethical challenges should be up for discussion. Even though there should be no difficulty about whether it's good or not to allow for molesting little children, it would not be a good idea to state this explicitly in the rules, since that would kind of go past the idea of the game.¬† This way, the problem of finding out if something is good or bad is a long, long philosophical and/or ethical debate which doesn't come up with a clear solution.¬† Maybe this game is not really for ,Äòkids,Äô.,Äù

,ÄúWow, this ,Äògame,Äô of yours could easily be called ,Äòteach your kids to become sociopaths,Äô,,Äù I said.

,ÄúThe question is,,Äô asked LHX, ,Äúin this game, can a model be constructed that is all-inclusive and stands up to everything that is thrown at it AND is pertinent in the realm of barstools?¬† Barstool is a staple; not preaching to anybody who doesn,Äôt want to hear it is a staple.,Äù

,ÄúYou get the Barstool.¬† Do not pass Rebirth, do not collect 200 Karma Points!,Äù I shouted.

LHX mumbled, ,ÄúWe already seem to be playing this game,Ķ,Äù

,ÄúI would think that there would be a different approach between children and adults,,Äù said RWHN.¬† ,ÄúChildren are more of a blank slate, generally, as far as belief systems go.¬† I don't think you'd necessarily want to give kids all these ideas, good and bad, about religions, philosophies, etc.¬† At least, not literally.¬† I think with kids you need to do things on a more symbolic level.¬† For example, allowing a kid to do something, that while it seems totally incongruous to you, as long as it doesn't maim or kill them, just let them have at it.¬† For example, eating applesauce with their elbows.,Äù

Triple zero interrupted.¬† ,ÄúSo what is the change we're trying to create, again?¬† To tell people how to play the game?¬† To make the game more interesting?¬† To stop spoiling the game for others?¬† To make them more skilled at playing?¬† Or the clich?©, to take it less seriously.,Äù

,ÄúI say, to show the possibilities available,,Äù I said.

,ÄúHmm, not really good enough, I think,,Äù he replied.¬† ,ÄúAlso, there needs to be an incentive for the people to explore the possibilities.¬† I'm afraid just showing the possibilities to them is not always going to be enough to make them actually explore them.,Äù

,ÄúOk, to realize there aren't too many negative consequences to exploring the many available options?,Äù

,ÄúLet me take this somewhere different,,Äù SillyCybin broke in.¬† ,ÄúThere are two possible paradigms for the BIP - Static and Fluid.¬† Static is, by definition, already as good as it's ever going to get.¬† Fluid is the only kind that has a chance of improving.¬† The question we ask is "Do you want to improve your existence?" If the answer is "Yes" then the static paradigm IS the BIP. By adopting, and yourself actively designing, the fluid paradigm one has, in doing so replaced the BIP with a bunch of building blocks.

,ÄúI never felt BIP was static, said Mangrove.¬† ,ÄúI mean, if a person is unaware of BIP, their BIP is still being changed & shaped by their experiences.¬† However, i think that becoming aware of the BIP metaphor means that a person chooses to modify their cell, either more quickly, or¬† consciously (and this is probably the most important bit).¬† Some BIP cells change faster than others.¬† Sometimes it's through deliberate, directed action, sometimes it's just the slow, inevitable process of time passing.,Äù

,ÄúBut if one is aware of the BIP,,Äù interjected RWHN, ,Äúhas taken into consideration how they got there, what influences it, etc., etc., and they choose to stay in their cell, then, at least, they've seen the options.¬† Just because someone can see it, doesn't always mean they are going to want to leave it, change it, whatever.¬† And nothing is permanent either.¬† I think we all experience bouts of fluidity and static-ness.¬† The idea is to know where you are going, or not leaving from.,Äù¬†

I replied, ,ÄúI guess there's a difference between seeing the BIP and realizing you can reconstruct it.,Äù

,ÄúYeah I think you got me on that one,,Äù said SillyCybin.¬† ,ÄúBIP is fluid but it's someone/something else thats making it shift.¬† The difference between going and being led, maybe?,Äù


,ÄúYeah, I,Äôd go for that,,Äù said Mangrove.¬† ,ÄúThe only way I can see the BIP being totally static is if someone reaches a state whereby they cease to have experience.¬† It kind of goes back to the dreaded Crowley essay we were talking about earlier. When the monad capable of experience (a hadit) meets one of the possibilities available to it (nuit) it is a conjunction represented as 'love'.¬† However, when the hadit chooses the experience, it is 'love under will'.¬† Or, if you prefer your terminology, 'going or being led'.,Äù


At this point, we were out of beer, so we made Mangrove go and get us another pitcher.

[Oh No, More Discordian Bullshit:  On the Eris-Specific terms of Chaos, Order, and Disorder.]

Oh No, More Discordian Bullshit:  On the Eris-Specific terms of Chaos, Order, and Disorder.

When a bunch of pretentious Erisians get together to talk Shop, they usually babble away at each other with no real understanding of what anyone is talking about.¬† It,Äôs like the United Nations.

Anyway, to help, some of them came up with some terms and concepts to help figure out what they hell anyone is saying.

So, to start with, the Universe is Chaos.  Please keep in mind, this is a Discordian specific definition of Chaos.  So, this says that in the Universe, and every nanosecond that passes, something different is happening.  If you were to be able to observe the entire universe completely, down to the last quark, it would be impossible to discern what the hell is going on.  Simply put, Shit Happens.

Now, when you put a Human into the mix, they don,Äôt see Chaos.¬† The Human brain is wired to seek out patterns.¬†

When the Human sees patterns that follow some sort of progression that Human understands and can follow, we call that ,ÄúOrder,,Äù as well as ,ÄúThe Aneristic Illusion,Äù.¬† Those patterns are still just Chaos, but the Human mind has decided to separate it from its Universal surroundings.

When the Human cannot see a pattern, or cannot understand that a pattern exists, we call that ,ÄúDisorder,,Äù as well as ,ÄúThe Eristic Illusion,Äù.¬† The absence of a recognizable pattern is still just Chaos, but the Human has decided to differentiate this from ,ÄúOrder,Äù.

In this way, Erisian say that those who hold Order over Disorder, or Disorder over Order, are both deluded by their Illusions.

For shits and giggles:




Hello, friend.  Welcome to the Golden Sphere of Possibility.

You think you just woke up here one day, right?  Think again.  It was your whole life that brought you to this.  Fact is, you were born to be here.  Go ahead, look around.  I,Äôll be here when you get back.

Looks smaller than it is, don,Äôt it?  It doesn,Äôt even feel all that bad.  But sometimes, you look through the shimmering concave arc, and you see all that you,Äôre missing.  Abandoned ambitions.  Best-left-forgotten dreams.  Things that could-have-been.  Here, put your palms up to the Sphere, touch the surface, let me show you something.

Feel that?  That,Äôs all the books you,Äôve read.  And that parabola over there is your adolescence.  Look up:  It,Äôs your CD collection.  The pallet you woke up on?  Your parents.  Like I said, you were born to be here.  It,Äôs your life, it,Äôs the golden encapsulation of your own existence.  You painted yourself into this vessel.

So, now you,Äôre wondering why you feel that anything inside your sphere is possible, in your own life.  Why now, why today, can you see the sloping sides of a Golden Sphere of Possibility, that you made for yourself?  Because you stopped reacting inside of it, and took a couple of steps forward.  You thought you could do the impossible, you tried to be self reliant, and bang.  You smacked your head against the sphere.

What,Äôs that?  Yeah.  That,Äôs when the knowledge of the end of the Possible sets in.  When you didn,Äôt know you were inside, everything was fine.  But now that you know, you can see your entire, tired, call-and-response life stretch out before you, enclosed in this curved wall, this round capsule.  Breathe, kid.  It,Äôs just abject panic that you,Äôre feeling right now.  Some even say that this is what death feels like:  An unchanging life, immune and unfeeling to what you really want.

Look around you.  Look at these golden, curved walls.  The glimmering ceiling.  The hard ground.  That,Äôs your universe.  That,Äôs the world you,Äôre going to be living in for the rest of your life here in the Sphere.  You,Äôre going to live out your life only being able to do what,Äôs limited to what you have created.  Or, not so quiet if you decide to take the rifle/bell tower route.  Either way, long or short, it,Äôll feel the same.  Static, unchanging. 

So, if you,Äôre interested, I,Äôd like to invite you pop the bubble,Ķ

Just turn around.

The Apocrypha to the Vengeful Testament of Eris
Chapter I
http://earfatigue.multiply.com/music/item/123

Thanks, Cain.

Here's the LHX sound file, turned into a song:

http://earfatigue.multiply.com/music/item/123

Go to "LHX BIP".

::flexes Modz muscle::

Ok, here's what I'm gonna do:  I'm not gonna delete anyone's posts, but any post that doesn't have some sort of propogandist material or link in it will be split off into some sort of "sieve" thread.  That way, no one will lose anything they've written, but the content will be easy to get at.


LMNO
-Little man with a gun in his hand.

Over at http://earfatigue.multiply.com/music/item/123 there is Mangrove's "Liber 812, Part 1", audio-style.

This is me Bragging:

My other band, the one that does Punk covers, now knows:

Suspect Device - Stiff little Fingers
I Got A Right ,Äì The Stooges
Havana Affair ,Äì Ramones
Boys Don,Äôt Cry ,Äì The Cure
Last Caress ,Äì Misfits
Surrender ,Äì Cheap Trick
You Say You Don,Äôt Love Me ,Äì Buzzcocks
Cherry Bomb ,Äì Runaways
Police on my Back ,Äì Clash
Shot By Both Sides ,Äì Magazine
Knowledge ,Äì Operation Ivy
Religious Wars ,Äì Subhumans
New Shoes ,Äì Briefs
Debaser ,Äì Pixies
Black Coffee ,Äì Black Flag
Newest Industry ,Äì Husker Du
Public Image ,Äì Public Image Limited
Betray ,Äì Minor Threat
Waiting Room ,Äì Fugazi
Tooling For Anus ,Äì Meatmen
A Good Night for my Drinking ,Äì Supersuckers
Big Takeover ,Äì Bad Brains


Fuck, yeah.  We're the best band I know.

Here's a PDF that was created for the Machine,Ñ¢.

http://www.sharebigfile.com/file/68444/mach-001-pdf.html

I'm gonna send it to syn for hosting, too.


Prof Cram, I'd like to get you (and everyone else's) opinion on this.

Ok-- listen up, people.

I have an easy recording setup at my house.  I am volunteering to record anyone's rants, which will then be POEE-casted.

Further, if anyone has video skillz, they should take the audio track and create some sort of visual accompaniment.


I am asking all ranters to volunteer their work for recording.  I will strive to record them (within reason) in accordence to whatever presentation instructions the original author's wish, with the caveat that if I think I have a better idea, I'll go with that, instead.

So, who wishes to hear me read their rants?

This morning, I was in that hypnogogic state, and a concept popped into my head.  It's unclear, but it had to do witha king, a yardstick, and a pun on the word "ruler".

The point that it seemed to be making was "it doesn't matter how good your tools are; you still have to know when and how to use them."


So, I'd like to offer this skeleton of a stepping stone to anyone who wishes to write a parable based around this. 

Hey, congrats.¬† You got this far.¬† Through fair means or foul (and I,Äôm not putting anything past you, that,Äôs for goddam sure), you managed to shake off the blinders, and see the CoN, the Machine,Ñ¢, the Black Iron Prison, the light, whatever the hell you want to call it.

You woke up to a hideous truth, and you didn,Äôt run away screaming.¬† Good for you.

Now, strap yourself in, because here it comes again.¬† What, you didn,Äôt think this was a one-shot deal, did you?¬† Hell no.¬† I guess we should have told you when you signed up, but that was the easy part.¬† To be honest, who gives a crap that you shook off a little external conditioning, some social expectations, or even the illusion of patriotism?¬† I mean, really.¬† The best is yet to come.

I,Äôm sure you,Äôve been walking around the place with your chest puffed out, bragging that you know what,Äôs really going on, but guess what?¬† You,Äôre still as dumb as a sack full of hammers.¬† Only now, you,Äôre dangerous.

You see, you may have cast off the pre-conceived notions that you think society chained you with, but you still have to deal with the crap you came up with all on your own.¬† What? You think you,Äôre infallible, and that it,Äôs only the external crap that was messing you up?¬† Hell, bad ideas adhere like barnacles, and unless you scrape them off every season, it,Äôs just gonna slow you down.¬†

And yes, it,Äôs gonna hurt.¬† Because those bad ideas were like your babies.¬† You thought them up all by yourself, mommy and daddy and Mrs. Kerbopple didn,Äôt have to feed you your lines this time!¬† But guess what?¬† Your idea still sucks.¬† Which idea, you say?¬† Well, I,Äôm not gonna tell you.¬† Go back and test them yourself.¬†

And then do it again.

And again.

You get the picture.

So, in my punk cover band, we've finally decided to try our hand at writing our own stuff.  I thought I'd try to incorporate some BIP material into the lyrics.

Be warned:  This is a first draft.  It kind of sucks.  Any suggestions would be wlecome.


"Black Sheep are Still Sheep"

To all you sleeping
This is a message to all you sleeping
It,Äôs all passing you by
So get off your hands and knees.

You,Äôve got two feet
So you better fucking use them
And run while you still have legs
Run while you still have legs!

So go ahead,
Try to break away
Try to change your mind
While you still can.
But just remember
As you try and swim upstream
That being a black sheep
Just means you,Äôre still a sheep

It,Äôs a two man con, and you,Äôre the mark
And you can,Äôt even tell what side you,Äôre on

,ÄòCuz it,Äôs the same side
Always, the same side
So what the fuck are you gonna do about it?

(solo)

Of course you,Äôve heard it before
And you pretend to listen
And you think you,Äôve got it all figured out

But it,Äôs all tunnel vision
As you march lock step in line
Being different, just like everybody else.


So go ahead,
Try to break away
Try to change your mind
While you still can.
But just remember
As you try and swim upstream
That being a black sheep
Just means you,Äôre still a sheep

aneristic strife

This is from another thread, but I thought I'd throw it in here & see what happens.


I have a lot of work to do right now, but I promise to address it later.

Kick the phrase around, let's see what happens.

Just filling the coffers with the stuff I saved offline.

On the Nature of Reality:

You,Äôre mostly blind. But this isn,Äôt really your fault; it,Äôs because of the shell of meat you,Äôre happening to live in right now. Think, for just a moment, at the nearly infinite amount of things happening right now all around you. I,Äôm sure you can think of quite a few things. Now, let,Äôs talk about them.

You can,Äôt see any of the infrared or ultraviolet light spectrum. Unfortunately, this cuts out quite a lot of things your eyes were built to see. Sorry about that.

You can,Äôt hear anything below 20 Hz, or above 20 KHz . You can definitely feel about 12 Hz, if you play it really loudly. Go on, give it a try.

With just those two examples, if you hadn,Äôt before, now you can really start to understand all the stuff you simply can,Äôt perceive. I,Äôm sure you can think of five more examples of an immense class of Things that you can,Äôt notice are right in front of you.

But it gets worse.

Stop for a moment, and try to notice as many possible things in your environment that you can, simultaneously. Notice that, as you start to identify more and more objects, sounds, smells, and tactile sensations, you can,Äôt keep them in your head all at once. When you notice, for example, the pressure of your shoe against the ball of your foot, that distant bird chirping seems to fade from your attention.

And let,Äôs not forget about how much stuff you weren,Äôt paying attention to when you started reading this. Let,Äôs face it: We all live our lives with blinders on. We only allow ourselves to pay attention to 1% of what we physically can perceive, which is an infinitesimally small percentage of all the stuff in the Universe.

And that fraction of a fraction of a percent is what we usually call ,ÄúReality,Äù. We call it ,ÄúReal,Äù, as if it,Äôs an unshaking firmament of solid Truth, that what we see is all that,Äôs really ,Äúout there,Äù. But you,Äôre not even paying attention to the 99% of stuff that you can even sense.

And this ,ÄúReality,Äù is what we base our judgments on how the Universe ,Äúworks,Äù and what ,Äúshould,Äù be Out There. We construct our actions and reaction to this 1% of available information, and reject everything else in the Universe. And then some Authority comes along, and tells you that they know what,Äôs really real, and that you should do as they do. Talk about the blind being led by the blind,Ķ or in this case, the blind being led by the incredibly stupid.

,ÄúOkay, big guy,,Äù you say, ,ÄúSo what,Äôs really out there, if you,Äôre so smart?,Äù I have to tell you,Ķ

I don,Äôt know. I have the same blinders that you do. I live in the same kind of box.
But I will say one thing. My saying ,ÄúI don,Äôt know,Äù doesn,Äôt mean, ,ÄúI don,Äôt know, and I don,Äôt care, because there,Äôs no way to escape the biology of my sense.,Äù I say, ,ÄúI don,Äôt know, but I want to find out. I want to try and see and feel as much as I can, I don,Äôt want to take somebody,Äôs word for it, I want to keep exploring, and figuring shit out. I want to walk out of my Prison Cell, even if I just end up in another one. I,Äôm not content only seeing a fraction of what,Äôs out there.

Because hey, who knows what kind of fun I,Äôm missing?

There has been much talk regarding a bunch of posters piling on another, and how this is wrong.

I think this opinion is bullshit.  On any board, especially one as vocal and opinionated as this one, when a poster has something to say, they will say it.

So, when it turns out that only one poster believes that puppies should be eaten alive, and 20 believe that they should be grilled first, you will get a post ratio of 1:20.

This is not ,Äúpiling on,Äù, this is ,Äúan unpopular opinion,Äù.

Do y,Äôall really think that the 20 pro-grilling people will elect a spokesman to debate the puppy eating issue one-on-one?

Hell no.  Each person will give their viewpoint.  Especially since even if they all agree that puppies should be grilled, each one will have a different opinion of how they should be grilled.

So enough with the accusations of ,Äúpiling on,Äù.  A person with an unpopular belief should know that it is, and be prepared to defend themselves.

The Machine™ is what makes people send other people to diee for abstractions.

The Machine™ is what drives people to spend 40 hours a week doing tasks they dislike.

The Machine™ is what encourages people to want things they don't need, and makes them feel guilty for not having.

The Machine™ wants you to be in debt to a corporation.

The Machine™ is a punishing father figure.

The Machine™ beats you up for your lunch money.

The Machine™ knows what is RIGHT, and what is WRONG.





What is The Machine™ for you?

So there I was, in a pissy mood, standing on a roof in the dark, slightly drunk, watching enormous explosions in the sky, while the radio was blaring the signature caterwaul of Steven Tyler.

And damn, I couldn,Äôt get into it.  Past years, for all the Bush-led half decade, I could lose myself in the fireworks, thinking of what got it here, about how even though this country is in pretty rough shape, it still hasn,Äôt torn itself apart yet, and there,Äôs a chance we can still pull through.

Plus, huge fireworks are cool.

But not that night.  I thought about the revolutionary war; not in the specifically cynical, a-bunch-of-rich-white-slaveowners-didn,Äôt-want-to-pay-taxes kind of way, but in the archetypical way, the ,Äúhey, get off my dick,Äù way.  A group of people felt like they weren,Äôt being represented, that their government was almost an alien force, with no thought of the governed.  That the government was a brutal, controlling force that took with no mercy, and gave no reward.

Not even a reacharound.

And the governed, sick of all the bullshit, decided to do something about it, and (unbelievably) actually stood up and kicked some ass.  Whether or not that history actually existed, it,Äôs a symbol of the idea that you DON,ÄôT have to put up with the vile, incompetent, and willfully ignorant leaders that ignore you while committing atrocities in your name.

So there I stood, with not a single candidate I voted for in office, disagreeing with just about every domestic policy decision made, while unjust wars and saber-rattling turn ,ÄúAmerican,Äù into an even worse pejorative than before, and while humans of all nations, (including mine) are being slaughtered for the illusion of democracy.  And I was watching the ossified ritual in honor of our ancestors who said, ,Äúnon serviam,Äù, but now is usually associated with the belief of, ,Äúmy country, right or wrong,Äù.

I usually find myself saying, ,ÄúI love most of my country, but I hate most of its leaders,,Äù but at what point does the disagreement trickle down to such a fundamental level that you feel like a stranger in your own nation?  When do you reach the point that the country you love simply no longer exists, except in your imagination, and perhaps a few roadside diners here and there?


And at what point do you do something about it?

http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=10000103&sid=aExjz5yCwf8c&refer=us

Well, this and the Canada raid has finally cut that last leg out from the Bush administration.


Not that this will make them stop saying that stupid phrase, but at least there,Äôs something to point to, now.

Didn't we have an Erisian Creation Myth around here somewhere?

I can't find it.  

Any help?

This is for Wolfie, Kai, and any other Noobs.  

O anonymous Modz, could you sticky it?

So, welcome into the bosom of that crazy bitch Eris.  The house is a bit of a mess, we're planning a party.  Well, it's sort of a jail break.  It's a long story.

Anyway, this would be a good a time as ever to discuss the groundwork behind the ancient, decades-old religion of Erisianism.  Some of the crankier old people around here won't touch the stuff, but others (like myself) get off on it.

To business!  Let us discuss the following:


1.  There is no goddess but Eris, and she is your goddess.
2.  Eris is chaos; chaos is Universe.
3.  What we consider Order, or Negative Entropy, is fleeting at best, and at worst, a purely human/social construct, one which Eris laughs at us as we encounter things that simply make no sense.
4.  Order and Chaos always balance... The imposition of order = the escalation of disorder, and vice versa.
5.  There is order; there is disorder.  There is creation; there is destruction.  The old chart had this laid out in a 4-box grid, to show that the both the creative and the destructive contain order and disorder, and that embracing the creative seems to be a better option.  This has been expanded into the New Chart:



And should be contemplated deeply before venturing into any activity.

6.  Greyface is the imposer of sin and guilt; he is the one who taught us that chaos is negative, that only Pure Order is righteous.  he is severely out of whack, and as Discordians, we do what we can to correct his errors.
7.  We are all free.  The lies we tell ourselves to make it through the day are naught to Eris, she has given us the power to cast off our self-imposed shackles, to say "no" to the Grey, and to put mayo into the machine.

This is as good a starting point as any.  Let those who are willing to talk shop about Eris post here; if you don't believe, then don't post.


LMNO
-Extending a hand.

[The Black Iron Prison]

The Black Iron Prison

Hey, kid.  Welcome to Prison.

You think you just woke up here one day, right?  Think again.  It was your whole life that brought you to this.  Fact is, you were born to be here.  Go ahead, look around.  I,Äôll be here when you get back.

Looks a little smaller than it is, don,Äôt it?  Sometimes, it doesn,Äôt even fell all that bad.  But still,Ķ You look through those bars, and you see all that you,Äôre missing.  Hopes.  Dreams.  What could-have-been.  Here, grab the bars, let me show you something.

Feel that?  That,Äôs all the books you,Äôve read.  And that entire wall over there is your adolescence.  Look up:  It,Äôs your DC collection.  The floor you woke up on?  Your parents.  Like I said, you were born to be here.  

I know, you,Äôre wondering why you feel trapped here, in your own life.  Why now, why today, can you see the bars of a Black Iron Prison that you made for yourself?  Because you stopped reacting, and took a couple of steps forward.  You though you could do what you wanted, you tried to be self reliant, and bang.  You smacked your head against the wall.

What,Äôs that?  Yeah.  That,Äôs when the claustrophobia sets in.  When you didn,Äôt know you were trapped, everything was fine.  But now that you know, you can see your entire, tired, monotonous life stretch out before you, trapped in these 4 walls, these 6 sides.  Breathe, kid.  It,Äôs just abject panic that you,Äôre feeling right now.  Some even say that this is what death feels like:  An unchanging life, immune and unfeeling to what you really want.

Look around you.  Look at these cold, black bars.  The colorless ceiling.  The hard ground.  That,Äôs your universe.  That,Äôs the world you,Äôre going to be living in for the rest of your life here in Prison.  You,Äôre going to live out your life in quiet desperation.  Or, not so quiet if you decide to take the rife/bell tower route.  Either way, long or short, it,Äôll feel the same.  Dead, unchanging.  

So, if you,Äôre interested, I,Äôd like to invite you to a jailbreak,Ķ

Just turn around.

Here,Äôs something I learned from the past couple of weeks I,Äôve been unable to post regularly to these boards:

Perhaps it,Äôs a coincidence, but it seems some of my creative energies have been banked somewhat, in that I haven,Äôt had a decent idea about a story, a creative insight into chaos, or even a decent rant building up.  Hell, even my standard template, pseudo-gnostic esoteric in-jokes, doesn,Äôt seem to be able to help.  

In short, what I,Äôm missing is the constant stream of non-linear consciousness that only PD.com seems to be able to provide.  And you know what that means, boys and girls,Ķ

Since this board seems to contain 30% rants and Catology (i.e. non-theology, i.e. insights into Discordianism), and 70% blog/cookies/pie/fluff, I can only conclude that a mind such as mine can only be properly maintained when it is getting a certain amount of so-called ,Äúuseless,Äù information along with the straight-up ,Äúshit your hate,Äù posts.

Some may think pointless, silly, and downright stupid threads only detract from the ,Äúserious business,Äù at hand, but I now say that it is precisely threads such as those that feed a mind and spur it into creative areas.  The rants and essays are welcome products, but they have to start somewhere; and the po-type ideas (,Äúpo,Äù being the confluence of two seemingly unrelated things) found in blog and fluff strings are the perfect breeding grounds for such new ideas.  

PD.com can appear utterly pointless at times.  But much like a glass of water super-saturated with sugar, give it a light tap on the side of the glass, and amazing crystalline structures can form.  Out of the chaos of a hundred fluff posts, a brilliant rant or parable can be constructed.


In short, I miss you guys, and I can,Äôt seem to get back in the creative groove.  Boo hoo.  Guess I,Äôll just plunge fishhooks into my eyelids.

From my NaNoWriMo novel, with any non-TOS words removed.  Feel free to "insert" your own, & repost!



,ĶEd turned to the stocky guy, and said, ,ÄúDave, I,Äôm going to be here a while.  Why don,Äôt you go back to Paul, and work over that little redheaded _______until this boy here is softened up a little more.  You won,Äôt even recognize him.,Äù  Ed reached back, and brought his free hand down with a smack on the upturned cheek of Steve,Äôs _______.  ,ÄúIsn,Äôt that right, _______?,Äù  Dave just nodded, and left the two to their own devices.  Or Ed,Äôs devices, anyway.  He reached between Steve,Äôs legs and found his flaccid _______, still sticky with Sarah,Äôs _______.  He pushed his other hand deeper into Steve,Äôs _______, and began prodding his _______, wanting to humiliate this hairless _______as well as abuse him.  His touch suddenly became surprisingly gentle, as his fingers traced Steve,Äôs soft _______, and caressed his low-hanging _______, just minutes ago begging to spill their _______.  Steve could feel his _______ begin to accommodate the man,Äôs fingers, and even though the burning hadn,Äôt really subsided, he could feel the manipulations of his _______and _______beginning to have the mechanical biological effect Ed was looking for.  Steve tried to will away his _______, but was unable to fight the sensations emanating from his _______.

Ed chuckled.  ,ÄúLooks like you,Äôre kinda familiar with this stuff, huh?  Don,Äôt worry kid, you,Äôll get yours.  Maybe.,Äù  Ed withdrew the two fingers from Steve,Äôs _______, spat a thick wad of spit and phlegm directly into his swiftly-closing _______, and then added another finger to the mix, driving his hand back into Steve,Äôs _______.  Steve groaned, the conflicting sensations of the fingers stretching his burning _______and his hard _______making him dizzy, and nauseous.  Ed let go of Steve,Äôs ______, and gave him another vicious slap across the _______, Steve,Äôs reaction being to grind his hips into the pommel horse, trying to escape the sting, and the grinding once again giving himself pleasure as he rubbed against the soft leather.  Steve thought he knew what was coming next, and there didn,Äôt seem to be any way out of it, so he tried his best not to struggle, hoping his attacker would be brief.

When Ed felt his _______compliance, he knew he had won the first round. Now, to break him down further.  God, I love doing this, he thought.  He drew his hand from his _______almost completely, tucked his thumb into his palm, and savagely thrust back inside with all four fingers, pushing hard to get his thumb past the muscled ring of Steve,Äôs _______.  He could instantly feel Steve tense up again, and he yelled in pain.  ,ÄúShut up!,Äù shouted Ed, grabbing Steve by the hair and slamming his face down on the pommel horse again, fresh blood spurting out of his nose and dripping off the floor.  Ed dragged his hand through the puddle of blood collecting on the pommel, and then grasped his own hard _______, a thin but lengthy piece of savagery now bright red, and lubricated with Steve,Äôs blood.  Ed played with _______for a minute, trying to force the rest of his hand into Steve,Äôs _______, and then, releasing his _______and making a fist, punched the small of Steve,Äôs back as hard as he could.  Steve,Äôs body spasmed, and Ed jammed his other hand as hard as he could into his _______.  Steve felt something tear in his _______, and then an enormous mass was filling him up.  He tried to scream, but couldn,Äôt get any air into his lungs, and when Ed saw him try to regain his breath, he smashed Steve,Äôs face into the pommel horse again.  Ed felt the tight warmth of this boy,Äôs _______wrapped around his fist, and Ed,Äôs _______got even harder when he saw his wrist rimmed with a line of red.  Little _______,Äôs _______will never be the same, he grinned to himself.  He looked around for someone to share his little victory with, but Dave had already headed back to Paul, apparently.  Ah well, Ed thought, more _______for me.  Grinning, he started working his hand deeper.

The revolution will probably be televised.



The revolution will be born in some stoner,Äôs basement.  The revolution will be an ongoing prank in History class.  The revolution will not be defined.  The revolution will be acknowledged with a quiet nod.  The revolution will gain momentum.

The revolution will be identified by recent college grads with Graphic Design and Marketing degrees burning holes in their pockets.  The revolution will be pitched to CEOs of multinational corporations.  The revolution will be analyzed, autopsied, sliced, diced, and stuck to corkboards with pushpins.  The revolution will be cleaned up, polished, waxed, packaged, and tied in a nice bow.

The revolution will be leaked to the media.  The revolution will show up on the catwalks of Paris, Italy, and Japan.  The revolution will have its own burger.  The revolution will have its theme song in heavy rotation on MTV.  The revolution will be on Leno, Letterman, Conan, and The Daily Show.  The revolution will turn down an appearance on Carson Daly.

The revolution will be sold at Hot Topic.

The revolution will be identified as a ,Äútrend,Äù by CNN.  The revolution will be reported on by self-proclaimed Experts In The Field.  The revolution will be blamed for teen pregnancy.  The revolution will be synonymous with the ,ÄúTwinkie defense,Äù in courts of law.

The revolution will host a concert series to help the homeless.  The revolution will be managed by financial advisors, lawyers, ad agencies, and media planners.  The revolution will be publicly traded in the stock market.  The revolution will be remixed by P. Diddy and released exclusively on iTunes.

The revolution will have sub-genres.  The revolution will suffer an anti-revolution backlash.  The revolution will appear on an episode of Walker, Texas Ranger.  The revolution will generate buzzwords that will be used by your parents trying to sound hip.  The revolution will be in a Cadillac commercial.  The revolution will be adopted by pre-pubescent girls trying to act ,Äúgrown up,Äù.

The revolution will be derided by Bill Mahr, Rush Limbaugh, & Al Franken.  The revolution will be mocked by Jon Stewart, Steve Colbert, and Tina Fey.  The revolution will appear on Best Week Ever.  The revolution will become an automatic punchline.  The revolution will be relegated to a question in the next edition of Trivial Pursuit.

The revolution will be televised.  After all, there's market share to consider.

I finally found a place to post my music.  for free!

http://earfatigue.multiply.com/

Have a look, have a listen...  Let me know what you think.

I love October.  There,Äôs a certain smell to it.  That crisp smell, on the edge of death, the land is going to sleep.  The monotonous green of the trees and grass, punctuated only by the harsh colors of flowers, painted up like some garish whore, gives way to the subtle, muted colors of the turning leaves.

The oppressive humidity and heat of the summer, with the only repast being thunderstorms and hurricanes, is tamed by a cool breeze coming from the North.  The rattling and buzzing of years-old air conditioners hanging out of windows like an obese fratboy,Äôs ass at a kegger, is silent.  Curtains move gently as they respond to the natural airflows that waft through the house, bringing the scents of that final barbecue, the crisp tang of a dying leaf.

There,Äôs a reason the Wiccans claim October is the last month of the year.  It,Äôs the last time to enjoy your life outside before the winter comes to freeze the world.  The world is dying, to be sure, but there,Äôs still enough time for a fucking party to go down.  All that red wine, dark beer, and whiskey that was just too thick to deal with in August is now free for the taking.  The harvest will be done soon for all you vegetarians, and for us carnivores, hey,Äîwho wants some lamb?

To walk outside without sweating or shivering, in the dry, clean air of Autumn: That,Äôs the gold you find in October.

Ok, it doesn,Äôt hurt that my birthday is the day after Halloween, either.

October is the fuckin,Äô best month of the year.

http://postsecret.blogspot.com/

Wow.  This is a really cool site.  You mail in anonymous postcards with a secret of a confession on it.

Instead of just writing it down, people have made tiny works of art, often with deep resonance.

Who cares if the secrets are true or not?

Fuck this.

I have fucking had it with all the bitching whining and moaning on this goddamn board.  What started out as a fun way to pass the day has become a tedious and uncomfortable experience.

So I decided. ,ÄúIf I can choose my own reality, why the hell should I stick around this place, where the sheer amount of negativity is enough to choke a horse?,Äù

So, that,Äôs it.  I,Äôve got better things to do.  To you, Eris might be strife, and pain, and sarcasm, and humiliation, but to me, she,Äôs simply the unexpected, and you better get ready to deal with whatever she throws at you next.  

I just don,Äôt want to deal with slogging throw meaningless arguments that do nothing to forward personal growth, but are just petty circuit 2 domination/submission games disguised as circuit 3 debates.  You guys are merely flinging shit.  It would be much more honest if you admitted it was all about whose ego needs to get stroked more.

I,Äôve made my point clearly about how I feel regarding the fluff posters, so don,Äôt think this is about you.  Your positive optimism helps keep me afloat in this Grey job I wade through.

As for you other assholes, I,Äôm done.  See ya.  And no, I,Äôm not finishing LMNO-PI.  What,Äôs the point?



Much love to those that deserve it,
LMNO


::grabs razor, slits wrists up, not across::




BOARD SUICIDE!

[Report 235A From the S.S.O.O.K.N. ,Äì Government Designation 1742q11: A Study Concerning the Non-experiential Elements and Effects of Psychotecture | Parts M-Q: Qabala and Numerology {Excerpt}]

Report 235A From the S.S.O.O.K.N. ,Äì Government Designation 1742q11:  A Study Concerning the Non-experiential Elements and Effects of Psychotecture | Parts M-Q: Qabala and Numerology {Excerpt}

Submitted by Throat Warbler Mangrove XVII

This report, and the Occult Practices within has been authorized and sanctioned by Government using Chapter 25 Paragraph 3 circumventing the Non-Standard Reasoning Act of 2013


,ĶThe word CITY, typed into the JEW3000 Gematria processor produced SITY or Samekh, Yod, Teth, Yod.  Samekh was used as there,Äôs no soft ,ÄòC,Äô sound in Hebrew.  Such an entry rendered numbers of 60 + 10 + 9 + 10 = 89 which, as we will see, is a number with much interest and significance.

Each individual letter yields up a wealth of information. Starting with Samekh (equivalent to ,ÄòS,Äô in English) we have the meaning of a ,Äútent peg,Äù.  The tent peg symbolizes a connection between heaven and earth.  The peg holds the tent down, fastening it to the earth, while the tent poles themselves hold the structure up.  While this may seem obvious, consider the skyline of the modern metropolis; specifically, a skyscraper.  Human Nature seems drawn to creating massive structures.  Whether a pyramid or the fabled Empire State Building, mankind are driven by a need to stretch up from the earth and penetrate the sky.  And as studies have shown there has been a 130% increase in shoplifting in The City ,Äì a practice so named from the days of markets when one could ,Äòlift,Äô up a shop (tent) and purloin an item or two.

A brief Digression:  This symbolism is not merely relegated to Qabalists.  Taoists imagined a universe being held up by a large pole.  An immense pole that they named T,Äôai Chi or Supreme Pole.  The T,Äôai Chi symbol is generally what the typical citizen calls a ,Äòyin/yang,Äô sign.  Describing it by its apparent duality misses the point as it applies to this study, but the T,Äôai Chi symbol shows up in the odious Discordian hodgepodge, as well.  It seems that the dastardly crew has tried to align itself with the heart of The City itself.

The closest thing in Hebrew to a letter ,ÄòI,Äô is Yod, which can double up as a ,ÄòY,Äô, which is why it appears twice in our analysis.  The Yod means ,Äòhand,Äô and has the numerical value of 10 (as a single letter or twenty when the word is spelled in full).  This aligns with the connection of 2 hands = 10 fingers, the key instrument of creative expression for Homo sapiens, and the advent of the Decimal System.  The development of the opposable thumb through evolution* has led to precision grip and great dexterity.  No thumbs = no tools = no buildings = the lack of The City itself.

Next is Teth or ,Äòserpent,Äô that represents ,ÄòT,Äô.  The so-called Fall of Man,Ñ¢ in the Holy Bible is blamed on Eve,Äôs relationship with the serpent and yet, the Egyptians, builders of the pyramids, venerated the snake as the ureus perched upon the 3rd eye as a symbol of enlightenment.  This also relates to the hedonistic tantrics driving their kundalini up their spines.  The undulating movement of the serpent has been used to symbolize the flux of life & death.  The relation to The City becomes obvious when related to the words of Urban Poet Laureate (post mortem) Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five:

   A baby cries and a mother dies
   And tears fall from the doctor,Äôs eyes
   Because in this room and on this day
   The good Lord giveth and taketh away.
                  New York, New York (1982)

Another Yod on the end completes CITY,Ķ2 hands driven by knowledge and an upright spine, constructing our skyscraper monuments to unite heaven and earth perhaps,Ķ



* Note: Evolution, in this sense, is used purely as a theory, and is not in violation of Penal Law 7784.

What with Scribe's new Shadow-hunting adventure, and Sepia's tentative foray into Detective work,  I would like to suggest, and open up to all writers, an idea for a collection.

A series of semi-connected stories/writing dealing with The City, the psychotectured monstrosity of human tragedy and triumph.

That is, the common thread of the stories will be that they take place, in, around, or somehow at least mention The City.

When we've got enough material (or the stories finally end), we'll collect them, edit them, and perhaps even publihs them on something other than a PDF format.

So, calling all writers/poets/scribblers!  What do you say?

"Governments fall from sheer indifference. Authority figures, deprived of the vampiric energy they suck off their constituents, are seen for what they are: dead empty masks manipulated by computers.

"And what is behind the computers? Remote control, of course.  Look at the prison you are in, we are all in. This is a penal colony that is now a Death Camp. Place of the Second and Final Death.

"Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape.  I don't intend to be there when the shithouse goes up.

"Nothing here now but the recordings. Shut them off, they are as radioactive as an old joke."

-- William S. Burroughs from "Soul Killer"

Oddly enough, this is about the PD.

Maybe I should ahve posted it in the "Recipies" forum.

Anyway, I was thinking about the order/disorder/creative/destructive chart, and my pineal gland said:

Creation
Destruction
-and-
Order
Disorder

Yields:

Creative order
Destructive order
Creative disorder
Destructive disorder

But:

Creation
-and-
Destruction
-and-
Order
-and-
Disorder

Yields:

Creative order
Creative disorder
Creative destruction

Destructive order
Destructive disorder
Destructive Creation

Orderly Disorder
Disorderly order



But what are these four new terms?  and how can we design a chart that reveals this new pineal insight?

The City.  Cold, grey, full of angles jutting at odd, predictable angles.  A place where anarchy lies just a gunshot away from the uneasy order that has slowly taken over.  Gee, I miss the suburbs.

It was a grey morning, as I groggily lifted my head from my desk.  I vaguely wondered who had cracked open my brain pan & replaced it with charcoal in mid-burn, when I noticed the bottle next to me, a half-inch of amber liquid left.  Right.  Another night of self-pity, in the City that doesn,Äôt care.  Coming fully into painful consciousness, I grabbed the bottle & poured the rest of the cheap scotch into last night,Äôs glass, fighting the nausea of a new day.

I leaned back in my chair, and looked out the window, at the concrete prison of Ideas that is the City.  There was little traffic this morning, as most people only come to the City when they have to.  Government, Inc. had proclaimed today to be a holiday for tax purposes, so the worker bees stayed in their hives, fearing to tread in the unpredictable streets.

Hearing the outer door open, I ran my fingers through my hair.  Graying already, my temples turning the color of the pavement.  The knock came as I straightened my tie, trying to make it look like I didn,Äôt spend the night passed out in an alcoholic haze.

When She walked in, it was like a Krakatoa sunrise.  Short red hair trained to hold the curves of her skull like it was the president of the Clara Bow fan club, and a dress to match.  Legs that went for miles, all standing unsteadily on a pair of heels that could be used as weapons.  What the fuck was she doing here, in this room, in this building, in this City?  She was the kind of woman who threw the unfeeling vastness of the City into pure focus, just by standing there, radiating life.

,ÄúAre you LMNO?,Äù
,ÄúSome call me that, yeah.,Äù
,ÄúI hear you,Äôre a dick.  I need someone to be a dick for me.,Äù
,ÄúDid I mention I,Äôm a fan of double entendres, as well?,Äù  

She smiled, a quick, no-teeth smile of condescension, but I could tell from her eyes she was holding something back. It took a lot to stand the City.  We all have our armor, some of us just hide it better.  ,ÄúWhat can I do for you,,Äù I asked.

,ÄúIt,Äôs this,,Äù she said, tossing a playing card on my desk.  I picked it up, and noticed it wasn,Äôt a playing card, but a Tarot card.  The Tower, to be exact.

,ÄúOuch.,Äù

She looked worried, and in that moment, it seemed like the entire Universe wanted to protect her, reassure her. ,ÄúWhat is it?,Äù she asked.

,ÄúAre you trying to tell me something?  Dames like you don,Äôt just walk in here and throw Tarot at me.  I usually leave that to the Gypsies.,Äù
,ÄúSomeone slipped this into my box last night.,Äù
,ÄúWhat did I tell you about entendres?,Äù
,ÄúLook, LMNO,ÄîWhat kind of name is that, anyway?,Äù
,ÄúMy parents were librarians.  They liked keeping everything lined up.,Äù
,ÄúI,Ķ See.,Äù She gave me a look like she wasn,Äôt sure whether to believe me.  ,ÄúWell, I,Äôve been getting mysterious phone calls over the past few weeks, and now this.  I,Äôm frightened.,Äù
,ÄúWhat kind of phone calls?,Äù
,ÄúIt,Äôs embarrassing.  I won,Äôt tell you, unless you want to take the case.,Äù  

I thought about next month,Äôs rent, and the dwindling case of scotch in the closet.  What the hell, I thought, at least it,Äôll be interesting,Ķ  ,ÄúSure, dollface, I,Äôll work with you.  Now why don,Äôt you tell me about it from the beginning,Ķ,Äù