Tonight, this board reminds me of the Nashville bus station.

[Freeky]

Well, Phox, once I was sitting here, and some guy came up and started evangelizing to me.

"You live in a bucket of light-brown shit.", he said.

"Don't I know it, brother.", I replied.

"Well, I can help you with that.  You have to dump dark brown shit into the bucket, to cancel out the light brown shit.  Problem solved."

"But then I'll just have twice as much shit in the bucket."

"What are you?", he screamed, "Some kind of troublemaker?"

Then he stormed off, leaving me no more enlightened that I was in the first place.

(ETA:  Parable explained upon request.  It occurs to me that PILLZ HERE.)

Requesting.

[LMNO]

My interpretation (which by no means should be thought of as speaking for TGRR) is as follows.

If you're dealing with something that is fairly confusing, you'll only make it worse by trying to explain it with something equally confusing.

OR

Using bullshit to explain bullshit only gives you twice as much bullshit.

OR

The amount of stuff you have to create from thin air in order to explain a phenomenon is inversely proportional to its effectiveness.

OR

Don't try to explain gravity by saying tiny angels are pulling things to the floor.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Something like that.  Using bullshit like "sigils" to clear your mind is like drinking bourbon to sober up for the drive home.

[Don Coyote]

Something like that.  Using bullshit like "sigils" to clear your mind is like drinking bourbon to sober up for the drive home.

So I should stop drawing sigils on the bar and charging them before driving home?

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Something like that.  Using bullshit like "sigils" to clear your mind is like drinking bourbon to sober up for the drive home.

So I should stop drawing sigils on the bar and charging them before driving home?

If the bartender doesn't mind, I guess it's okay.

But wash your hands when you're done.

[Don Coyote]

Something like that.  Using bullshit like "sigils" to clear your mind is like drinking bourbon to sober up for the drive home.

So I should stop drawing sigils on the bar and charging them before driving home?

If the bartender doesn't mind, I guess it's okay.

But wash your hands when you're done.

I would use bourbon, but..um.....bad things happens.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

The chicken is the one animal that Coyote does not fuck; for the chicken, he says, cannot return your love. I too am proud when I see a fellow Discordian's name in lights, whether it be on the marquee or the lethal injection list, one or the other (or both) will one day involve that pig-fucker's name.

Amen.

[Don Coyote]

The chicken is the one animal that Coyote does not fuck; for the chicken, he says, cannot return your love. I too am proud when I see a fellow Discordian's name in lights, whether it be on the marquee or the lethal injection list, one or the other (or both) will one day involve that pig-fucker's name.

Amen.

Whuuuuuuut?

[The Good Reverend Roger]

The chicken is the one animal that Coyote does not fuck; for the chicken, he says, cannot return your love. I too am proud when I see a fellow Discordian's name in lights, whether it be on the marquee or the lethal injection list, one or the other (or both) will one day involve that pig-fucker's name.

Amen.

Whuuuuuuut?

Dunno.  Was channeling.  PILLZ HERE.

[Don Coyote]

The chicken is the one animal that Coyote does not fuck; for the chicken, he says, cannot return your love. I too am proud when I see a fellow Discordian's name in lights, whether it be on the marquee or the lethal injection list, one or the other (or both) will one day involve that pig-fucker's name.

Amen.

Whuuuuuuut?

Dunno.  Was channeling.  PILLZ HERE.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

The chicken is the one animal that Coyote does not fuck; for the chicken, he says, cannot return your love. I too am proud when I see a fellow Discordian's name in lights, whether it be on the marquee or the lethal injection list, one or the other (or both) will one day involve that pig-fucker's name.

Amen.

Whuuuuuuut?

Dunno.  Was channeling.  PILLZ HERE.

It's the bus station, man.  Nothing's right, here.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Scary thing about places like Bus Stations, you see people that you're CONVINCED you know, but if you walk up and say, "Hey, Jim!  Long time, no see!", the person turns to you and it's NOT Jim, it just looked like him in profile.  So you give a sick grin and say, "Um, whoops.  Sorry.  Thought you were someone else."

Then you go back to sitting in your plastic injection-moulded seat, with all the plastic injection-moulded people, and wonder, "Would the return of the Elder Gods really be all THAT bad a thing?"

[Cain]

I've slept in a bus station before.  Pretty sure my head hasn't been screwed on quite straight since.

There are just some things your mind shouldnt subject you to, even if it is via a night of broken sleep, under those intense, annoying, entirely wrong lights they use.  You know, the kinda glow that ain't entirely natural, it's a sickly yellow, not a white light.  And it seeps in through your eyelids, no matter where you rest.  Awake and asleep, awake and asleep.  You can't get comfortable and no matter what you do, you're aware of that yellow light.  Sometimes, in your dreams, it seems to go away for a minute, but only if you don't think about it.  If you know it's gone, you're awake again.

Except that one time.  The one time when I had woken up, but decided not to open my eyes.  And I came to realise, with a tingle down the back of my neck, it was because someone was standing in the way of the light.  Up real close to me, like.  You know how you can kinda sense how someone is standing close to you?  That feeling of presence, the change of air currents, the slight sounds they make as they move and breathe?  Well, it was nothing like that.

And then, after a minute, that blasted yellow light flooded back in. And I opened my eyes, and the bus station was still empty.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Yeah, the hippies think places develop memories of events and then replay them.  Supposedly, you're more likely to see those replays if you're tired or otherwise not hitting on all cylinders.

So a totally empty place can seem like it's full of people, until you pay attention.

Anyway, that's just what the hippies say, and they say all sorts of weird shit.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

When I was about 6 years old, I had a nightmare.  It was one of those nightmares that you remember for the rest of your life.

My father and I were out in the car, and we stopped at a store of some kind.  He went in to get something - this was back in the days where leaving a kid in a car was no big deal - and while he was gone, the car started to roll away.  More like drive away.  I jumped behind the wheel to steer it, because I was old enough to know that it didn't steer itself.

It was kind of fun at first, it was the way a child would imagine driving a car.  Constant speed, the other cars were all doing the same speed, etc.

But then I realized that I'd left my dad behind, that I didn't know how to turn around on the highway to go get him, and that with every passing second I was getting farther and farther away from him...Which is when the dream turned into a nightmare.  No monsters or anything, just that I was getting further and further away from my father, and I couldn't do anything about it.

Don't know why I just remembered that.  You remember funny things when you're sitting in a place like this.