- Welcome to Principia Discordia.
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TESTEMONAIL: Right and Discordianism allows room for personal interpretation. You have your theories and I have mine. Unlike Christianity, Discordia allows room for ideas and opinions, and mine is well-informed and based on ancient philosophy and theology, so, my neo-Discordian friends, open your minds to my interpretation and I will open my mind to yours. That's fair enough, right? Just claiming to be discordian should mean that your mind is open and willing to learn and share ideas. You guys are fucking bashing me and your laughing at my theologies and my friends know what's up and are laughing at you and honestly this is my last shot at putting a label on my belief structure and your making me lose all hope of ever finding a ideological group I can relate to because you don't even know what the fuck I'm talking about and everything I have said is based on the founding principals of real Discordianism. Expand your mind.
Recent posts
#91
Apple Talk / Re: Dispatches from the Bone Y...
Last post by Doktor Howl - August 11, 2026, 03:01:04 PMOh, wait.
"Task Manager Not Responding."
"Task Manager Not Responding."
#92
Apple Talk / Re: Dispatches from the Bone Y...
Last post by Doktor Howl - August 11, 2026, 02:59:59 PMMy computer at work is just a little old.
I tried to open another tab to check the weather and it locked up solid for 5 minutes, and apparently, I cannot be trusted with task manager.
I tried to open another tab to check the weather and it locked up solid for 5 minutes, and apparently, I cannot be trusted with task manager.
#93
Apple Talk / Re: Open Bar: Subpoenaed by Co...
Last post by MMIX - August 11, 2026, 11:49:13 AMQuote from: Doktor Howl on August 10, 2026, 03:51:06 PMQuote from: Faust on August 08, 2026, 09:25:44 AMYep, people have voted with their wallets.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we got him"
The problem is I dont agree with the court of public opinion on this, and think the end result is stupid, and shit.Quote from: MMIX on August 09, 2026, 08:39:00 AMYep. I love how we have become societies where we demand higher standards of personal behaviour from people who write comic books than from politicians and presidents or attorneys general . . .
Is anyone surprised?
The obscenely wealthy own the ball and the ballpark. You will not worry about billionaire pedophiles, you will follow the thundering herd of tumblristas against George Takei and Warren Ellis.
Never mind that Takei was exonerated when the person who complained basically admitted he was trying to make money off of the notoriety.
I don't see a problem with believing the victim first. But eventually, I have to see some evidence. If that evidence isn't forthcoming, then I start questioning the narrative.
I am told this makes me part of the problem, etc, etc, and why can't I wear a safety pin in my lapel to show my commitment to Sparkle Motion™?
Yep. The proof of the pudding is in the evidence
#94
Discordian Recipes / Cooking Regretcipes.
Last post by DishpitDipshit - August 11, 2026, 10:11:20 AMOnce I tried mixing sweetened tropical kool-aid powder into scrambled eggs. Turned out far worse that expected. It an almost sandy texture, bright pink/orange color, and a flavor between sulphury water and Hi-C. Might try finding a picture. (If I still have the picture around)
#95
Featured / Re: The Subtitle Says This Is ...
Last post by Abbot Mythos - August 11, 2026, 07:03:53 AMOne of the consequences of my boat's "extended deployment" was the following:
This is a very short article, so I'm not posting any quotations from it.
And, to put this in prospective, the last of our combat troops had left South Vietnam on March 29, 1973. So, there was little chance that my boat would have to endure another "extended deployment" at the end of our "normal" six month Mediterranean cruise scheduled for 1973-74. And, the next cruise was not extended, even though it was memorable in its own right.
But, those of us who had nothing to do with instigating those "Two Days of Racial Unrest" called it exactly what it was: A mutiny.
Now, back in the day, aircraft carriers should have been equipped with revolving doors, as sailors going AWOL from them was a common occurrence. And, given the high crew turnover, and a carrier's very high demand for warm bodies, many of the dregs of the fleet eventually found themselves assigned to aircraft carriers. Still, we seemed to have had a lot more serious troublemakers coming aboard in the summer of 1973 than we had had before the previous "extended deployment." There was also a lot of grumbling, and fear, in the ranks about the possibility of yet another "extended deployment" in 1973-74. But, "racial unrest?" No, not so much.
I don't remember the exact day, but walking through the hanger deck in the early afternoon I saw that the weather was near perfect, the hanger deck was near empty, and the ship was barely moving. And, that meant nothing was landing or taking off, which is definitely not normal for an aircraft carrier steaming in broad daylight, in good weather, during Carrier Qualifications. Then an acquaintance approached me and said he had heard that something was going on up on the flight deck. As neither of us knew what was happening, we decided to go up to the flight deck and see for ourselves.
When we got up there, we saw a tight cluster of about 400 people standing in the middle of the catapult launch area, just forward of the island structure. When we asked people watching from the sidelines what was going on, all anyone could tell us was that the group had stopped flight operations. Now, the watching group was less than half the size of the group blocking the flight deck. But, members of the masters-at-arms force were among the watchers, and doing nothing.
While my acquaintance and I watched in stunned silence, we heard a voice behind us say something to the effect of, "I can't believe this. I'm going to take a picture, or no one will believe me when I tell them about it."
Turning to look at the photographer, my first acquaintance and I both recognized him as being a mutual acquaintance. (On a ship with over 4,000 people aboard, you have your circle of friends, a larger circle of acquaintances, and a big boatload of strangers.) But, as soon as the photographer raise his camera, a master-at-arms rushed towards him, and demanded that he hand it over.
And, without even thinking about it, those of us nearest the photographer closed ranks, blocked the master-at-arms, and opened a path for the photographer to run to the back of the island structure to take the crew's ladder back down to the hanger deck. This particular master-at-arms was smarter than most, in that he did not try to force his way through us. And, when he tried to go around, he was told, "Lay a hand on him and you're going over the side. The mutineers are over there. Deal with them." And, as the flight deck of an aircraft carrier is a long way above the water, he wisely gave up the chase. But, nether that master-at-arms, nor any of his cohorts made any move to break up the mutineers.
After that, the mutineers broke into smaller groups, and rampaged through the ship for two days looking for sailors to beat up who were foolish enough to be walking around alone. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured, while the officer corps walked around with marine guards, and did nothing.
When the violence finally petered out, we pulled into port, and the mutineers disappeared from the ship. A couple of weeks later, while out at sea again, I heard that the above little article about the mutiny had appeared in The New York Times, but I never thought I'd ever be lucky enough to get a copy of it.
Oh, and after the mutineers disappeared from the ship, the officer corps came down on those of us who didn't mutiny like a ton of bricks. But, they quickly got tired of being told that those of us left aboard were not the ones who had mutinied, and they wisely backed off.
The aftermath of all of this came the following year when the ship had to go into dry dock in the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard, for repairs to damage sustained in the North Atlantic during our return to the states from the Mediterranean. It was then that we learned, from some of the mutineers themselves, that the US Navy's punishment for mutiny was shore duty at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard, and not being allowed to reenlist.
One of the oldest jokes in the Navy is to ask someone, "Do you know the difference between a fairy tale and a sea story?" If the answer is the usual, "No," they are then told, "Well ... a fairy tale begins, 'Once upon a time.' But, a sea story begins, 'This is no shit!'" And, the above is a rare thing, being that it's a sea story that's 100% true. But, if you don't believe me, I don't give a shit.
This is a very short article, so I'm not posting any quotations from it.
And, to put this in prospective, the last of our combat troops had left South Vietnam on March 29, 1973. So, there was little chance that my boat would have to endure another "extended deployment" at the end of our "normal" six month Mediterranean cruise scheduled for 1973-74. And, the next cruise was not extended, even though it was memorable in its own right.
But, those of us who had nothing to do with instigating those "Two Days of Racial Unrest" called it exactly what it was: A mutiny.
Now, back in the day, aircraft carriers should have been equipped with revolving doors, as sailors going AWOL from them was a common occurrence. And, given the high crew turnover, and a carrier's very high demand for warm bodies, many of the dregs of the fleet eventually found themselves assigned to aircraft carriers. Still, we seemed to have had a lot more serious troublemakers coming aboard in the summer of 1973 than we had had before the previous "extended deployment." There was also a lot of grumbling, and fear, in the ranks about the possibility of yet another "extended deployment" in 1973-74. But, "racial unrest?" No, not so much.
I don't remember the exact day, but walking through the hanger deck in the early afternoon I saw that the weather was near perfect, the hanger deck was near empty, and the ship was barely moving. And, that meant nothing was landing or taking off, which is definitely not normal for an aircraft carrier steaming in broad daylight, in good weather, during Carrier Qualifications. Then an acquaintance approached me and said he had heard that something was going on up on the flight deck. As neither of us knew what was happening, we decided to go up to the flight deck and see for ourselves.
When we got up there, we saw a tight cluster of about 400 people standing in the middle of the catapult launch area, just forward of the island structure. When we asked people watching from the sidelines what was going on, all anyone could tell us was that the group had stopped flight operations. Now, the watching group was less than half the size of the group blocking the flight deck. But, members of the masters-at-arms force were among the watchers, and doing nothing.
While my acquaintance and I watched in stunned silence, we heard a voice behind us say something to the effect of, "I can't believe this. I'm going to take a picture, or no one will believe me when I tell them about it."
Turning to look at the photographer, my first acquaintance and I both recognized him as being a mutual acquaintance. (On a ship with over 4,000 people aboard, you have your circle of friends, a larger circle of acquaintances, and a big boatload of strangers.) But, as soon as the photographer raise his camera, a master-at-arms rushed towards him, and demanded that he hand it over.
And, without even thinking about it, those of us nearest the photographer closed ranks, blocked the master-at-arms, and opened a path for the photographer to run to the back of the island structure to take the crew's ladder back down to the hanger deck. This particular master-at-arms was smarter than most, in that he did not try to force his way through us. And, when he tried to go around, he was told, "Lay a hand on him and you're going over the side. The mutineers are over there. Deal with them." And, as the flight deck of an aircraft carrier is a long way above the water, he wisely gave up the chase. But, nether that master-at-arms, nor any of his cohorts made any move to break up the mutineers.
After that, the mutineers broke into smaller groups, and rampaged through the ship for two days looking for sailors to beat up who were foolish enough to be walking around alone. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured, while the officer corps walked around with marine guards, and did nothing.
When the violence finally petered out, we pulled into port, and the mutineers disappeared from the ship. A couple of weeks later, while out at sea again, I heard that the above little article about the mutiny had appeared in The New York Times, but I never thought I'd ever be lucky enough to get a copy of it.
Oh, and after the mutineers disappeared from the ship, the officer corps came down on those of us who didn't mutiny like a ton of bricks. But, they quickly got tired of being told that those of us left aboard were not the ones who had mutinied, and they wisely backed off.
The aftermath of all of this came the following year when the ship had to go into dry dock in the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard, for repairs to damage sustained in the North Atlantic during our return to the states from the Mediterranean. It was then that we learned, from some of the mutineers themselves, that the US Navy's punishment for mutiny was shore duty at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard, and not being allowed to reenlist.
One of the oldest jokes in the Navy is to ask someone, "Do you know the difference between a fairy tale and a sea story?" If the answer is the usual, "No," they are then told, "Well ... a fairy tale begins, 'Once upon a time.' But, a sea story begins, 'This is no shit!'" And, the above is a rare thing, being that it's a sea story that's 100% true. But, if you don't believe me, I don't give a shit.
#96
Or Kill Me / Re: Fuck you.
Last post by Pope Mome Apocrypha - August 11, 2026, 01:11:03 AMQuote from: trix on August 10, 2026, 09:12:25 PMGroup grief counseling sounds like a good idea, actually. I might look into that. Less generic TV-therapy bullshit and more actual pain sharing with other hurting people might really help.
Groups for shit like this have always left me better off than anything 1-1, kind of gives you a place that automatically acknowledges that yeah, it was real, and it fucked me over.
Also makes it easier to think about, cause you talking helps the others talk and vice-versa. It's easier to work on things when other people are working on things too, and all that.
#97
Or Kill Me / Re: Fuck you.
Last post by trix - August 10, 2026, 10:24:28 PMI desperately hope there is an afterlife, but I have a strong natural resistance to believing something to be true because I WANT it to be true. Rather, the more I want something to be true, the more I tend to believe it probably isn't.
Especially when it comes to any form of religion or spirituality or magic.
On the other hand, my mom was older and much wiser than me. She's turned out to be 110% correct about so many things that I was absolutely certain she was wrong about, that I can't/won't dismiss something she was that convinced was true, especially when I don't have any evidence either way.
Especially when it comes to any form of religion or spirituality or magic.
On the other hand, my mom was older and much wiser than me. She's turned out to be 110% correct about so many things that I was absolutely certain she was wrong about, that I can't/won't dismiss something she was that convinced was true, especially when I don't have any evidence either way.
#98
Or Kill Me / Re: Fuck you.
Last post by Doktor Howl - August 10, 2026, 09:20:14 PMQuote from: trix on August 10, 2026, 09:12:25 PMGroup grief counseling sounds like a good idea, actually. I might look into that. Less generic TV-therapy bullshit and more actual pain sharing with other hurting people might really help.
It worked for my dad. I hope it works for you.
QuoteAs for the pop music, our version of that would probably be our shared interest in certain shows (old doctor who was a big one) and books, but every time I try that it brings me down instead of up and I get into the spiral of crying and apologizing to the empty air.
Yeah, it kind of has to be mindless to work. Watching Dr Who requires focus. Listening to Elton John or Abba doesn't even require a lizard brain.
QuoteMy mom was a big believer in ghosts/spirits/etc, while I never was. She once promised me that after she passed, she'd do her damnedest to give me some sort of sign or signal that she's around in some form, so I could know that she was right and there is something beyond death instead of nothingness.
I've been watching for it, for anything like that, but so far I've been disappointed.
There's probably RULES in the afterlife. Something something about fucking with free will or outing God's troll.
Or maybe your priorities shift. By definition, supernatural activity is spooky action at a distance. Even in biblical days, people could only see a hint of what was going on. Did Jesus walk on water, or was he standing on the back of a whale? Both are miraculous, both have the same effect, but you can't see the mechanism.
So it's possible that she's signaling, but you interpret it as background noise. Or she just knows stuff you don't know and isn't signaling based on that new knowledge. Again, if it's supernatural, then by definition you can't see the whole picture.
I refuse to accept that there is no afterlife, because it seems very unlikely to me that the universe will stop fucking with me just because I died. That is why the only reason I would ever kill myself is if I have some unbearable physical failure. Emotional or mental stuff won't be improved, so why hurry?
#99
Or Kill Me / Re: Fuck you.
Last post by trix - August 10, 2026, 09:12:25 PMGroup grief counseling sounds like a good idea, actually. I might look into that. Less generic TV-therapy bullshit and more actual pain sharing with other hurting people might really help.
As for the pop music, our version of that would probably be our shared interest in certain shows (old doctor who was a big one) and books, but every time I try that it brings me down instead of up and I get into the spiral of crying and apologizing to the empty air.
My mom was a big believer in ghosts/spirits/etc, while I never was. She once promised me that after she passed, she'd do her damnedest to give me some sort of sign or signal that she's around in some form, so I could know that she was right and there is something beyond death instead of nothingness.
I've been watching for it, for anything like that, but so far I've been disappointed.
As for the pop music, our version of that would probably be our shared interest in certain shows (old doctor who was a big one) and books, but every time I try that it brings me down instead of up and I get into the spiral of crying and apologizing to the empty air.
My mom was a big believer in ghosts/spirits/etc, while I never was. She once promised me that after she passed, she'd do her damnedest to give me some sort of sign or signal that she's around in some form, so I could know that she was right and there is something beyond death instead of nothingness.
I've been watching for it, for anything like that, but so far I've been disappointed.
#100
Apple Talk / Re: Tucson Irregulars
Last post by Doktor Howl - August 10, 2026, 09:07:28 PMThings are bad.
People in Tucson congratulate themselves on not being in America.
People in Tucson congratulate themselves on not being in America.