Wow, this blog still exists
Original Muppet Show Pitch
The original pitch for the Muppet Show promises: "Freaky long-haired dirty cynical hippies will love our freaky long-haired dirty cynical Muppets." and then something about... symbolism? Hm, certainly that's a can of wasps I shouldn't open any time soon, lest I should be consumed by psychotic puppet conspiracy theories.
What's that? Yes, I said can of wasps.
Have you ever seen a can of worms? It's really not that big a deal.
A can of wasps is much much worse.
"The Youth" - Waking Life
“
If the world that we are forced to accept is false and nothing is true, then everything is possible.
On the way to discovering what we love, we will find everything we hate, everything that blocks our path of what we desire.
The comfort will never be comfortable for those who seek what is not on the market.
A systematic questioning of the idea of happiness.
We’ll cut the vocal chords of every empowered speaker. We’ll yank the social symbols through the looking glass We’ll devalue society’s currency.
To confront the familiar.
Society is a fraud so complete and venal that it demands to be destroyed beyond the power of memory to recall its existence.
Where there is fire, we will carry gasoline.
To interrupt the continuum of everyday experience and all the normal expectations that go with it.
To live as if something actually depended on one’s actions.
To rupture the spell of the ideology of the commodified consumer society so that our repressed desires of a more authentic nature can come forward.
To demonstrate the contrast between what life presently is and what it could be.
To immerse ourselves in the oblivion of actions and know we’re making it happen.
There will be an intensity never before known in everyday life to exchange love and hate, life and death, terror and redemption, repulsions and attractions.
An affirmation of freedom so reckless and unqualified, that it amounts to a total denial of every kind of restraint and limitation.
”
“Admit it. You aren’t like them. You’re not even close. You may occasionally dress yourself up as one of them, watch the same mindless television shows as they do, maybe even eat the same fast food sometimes. But it seems that the more you try to fit in, the more you feel like an outsider, watching the “normal people” as they go about their automatic existences. For every time you say club passwords like “Have a nice day” and “Weather’s awful today, eh?”, you yearn inside to say forbidden things like “Tell me something that makes you cry” or “What do you think deja vu is for?”. Face it, you even want to talk to that girl in the elevator. But what if that girl in the elevator (and the balding man who walks past your cubicle at work) are thinking the same thing? Who knows what you might learn from taking a chance on conversation with a stranger? Everyone carries a piece of the puzzle. Nobody comes into your life by mere coincidence. Trust your instincts. Do the unexpected. Find the others…”
| — | Timothy Leary |
Alan Moore, As Usual, Gets It
Some day Mr Moore will be looked back upon as one of the greatest philosophers of our age, and he worships a 2000 year old sock puppet. Life is good.
Enjoy!
I Have No Ass and I Must POOP! A 'Shut Up™' Sermon by TGRR
by: The Good Reverend Roger
For this, of course, we are called all manner of horrible shit by stupid people. “conservopagans” & Magicktards, libertariantards, Democrats, Republicans, teabaggers, the DAR (& other racists), and I’m pretty sure the Rotarians have put hits out on us. It is un-American to point out that things aren’t utterly perfect, that there might be a flaw or two in our glorious system.
We – at least the portion of Discordians that I feel comfortable speaking for – no longer buy into the left/right false dilemma that has been propagated by the media for the last 65 years or so. “Both sides” are moronic Punch & Judy dolls set up for you to throw rotten fruit at. If at this point you find yourself saying “Well, sure, but at least the
And the 3rd party morons? As I’ve said before, just because they’re funnier doesn’t make them better. No, the sad fact is that all politics is utter garbage which must be studied without buy-in…Because, though those police may be a social fiction, their pepper spray and billy clubs are just as real as they need to be.
This applies to ALL politics. Dumb fucking anarchists are buying the same shit in a different wrapper. In fact, anarchy is the STUPIDEST form of politics, because it doesn’t even TRY to put forth a workable agenda, let alone a system that primates can live with. Also, it was invented by the French, and anyone who has studied their governmental history has no further need of any evidence, whatsoever.
Related to politics is, of course, religion. Religion, as defined by us in The Church™, means “any group of people who believe the same things without considering (or even looking at) evidence that contradicts those beliefs”. Religion therefore includes the American Left & Right, all major denominations of all the Abrahamaic religions, Hindus, Zoroastrians, atheists, Bears fans, Free Market retards, communists, Scientologists, television viewers, and people who get their “information” from AM radio. Please note that this is by no means an exclusive list.
All of the above have one thing in common: They steal your Slack™, and then give your formulaic, false-slack pap in exchange. They typically do this by offering you what primates need: An alpha, usually a surrogate one. The character “Jack Bauer” comes to mind, as does the president, the pope, Rush Limbaugh, or anyone else who will take from the masses the burden of thinking for themselves. Typically, this is sold with John Wayne stapled all over it, the only example required to demonstrate this is the recent & laughable “Rick Perry is Strong” ad. Same with the fictional Jack Bauer…He’s hard as nails, and has no time for hippie shit like due process & the rule of law. Don’t you wish we had a Jack Bauer to cut the crap and do horrible shit to really bad people?
If you answered yes, for any reason – for any crime - then you are essentially no different than a Roman citizen in 50 BCE. You are part of the problem, and you need to REPENT, SINNER, or else resign yourself to a lifetime of walking on your knuckles. Know ye well the signs of the End Times, fools, for is it not written that false prophets shall deceive the multitudes? Is it not written that a sucker is a sucker, and should not be trusted with cash? IS IT NOT WRITTEN INDEED, THAT LO, THERE’S LOTS OF SHIT HAPPENING THAT YOU AREN’T TOLD ABOUT?
Indeed. You merely aren’t told. Nothing is hidden from you, because they just have to convince you that many things aren’t worth looking at. They’re “uncool”. “Math is boring!” “That’s crackpot shit.” “You’ll never get a good job without what we have.” “There’s nothing I can do, anyway.” “Watch our special report on the dangers of stepping outdoors, at 9.”
People believe that shit, and it is the fucking ROAD TO PERDITION, paved by The Spider with bricks made out of the purest Conspiracy™. Jesus tried to warn you about this shit, and they turned him into the God of Capitalism. “Bob” tried to warn you about this shit, so they assassinated him a half a dozen times. The Occupy geeks are trying to warn you about something. They’re not quite sure what it is, specifically, but they know there’s something HIDEOUSLY WRONG.
And if a pack of smelly hippies and tragically cool hipsters can figure at least that much out, I expect no less from you. And, not unlike them, I expect you to fucking DO something. But I won't tell you what. Use your fucking head for something more than a glory hole lure, and FIGURE OUT YOUR OWN METHODS YOURSELF. Oh, and then SHUT THE FUCK UP. It's a sad fucking day when 35 year old hipster creepers get more done to fuck the system than we do.
Get the fuck on it.
Or Kill Me.
Anniversary of Lord Buckley's Death
It's certaily wouldn't be difficult to make the argument that Lordy Buckley was for live humorous monologues what Elvis Presley was for Rock n Roll and, more recently, what Eminem was for Hip Hop... he was a honky who got kudos for using something black people invented but received next to no admiration themselves for. And that's true. It's pretty much impossible to argue against.
But unlike The King and Slim Shady, squillionaires both of them, Lord Buckley never really escaped the cult hero ghetto. He died November 12th 1960 at the age of 54 unable to play most venues due to his cabaret card (a necessity in those days to perform) being revoked, allegedly for possession of whacky tobaccy.
He may have used the backstage parlance of his black jazz friends for the amusement of largely cracker audiences, but I'm personally happy I live in a world where Lord Buckley once existed.
Below is Lord Buckley on Groucho Marx's television show "You Bet Your Life"... he's a little stiff in the beginning, but relaxes as the clip progresses and eases into the performance. Despite the onscreen claim, I suspect Groucho and Buckley were already acquainted before he walked onstage. I could be mistaken, but Groucho seems to me to have a little gleam in his eye when he begins questioning him:
And if you want a little sprinkled surreality to your morning Corn Flakes, dig this clip from Bob Clampett's "Beany and Cecil" cartoon which features Lord Buckley voicing the beatnik character of 'Go Man Van Gogh'...
How to Hypnotize a Chicken
Any farm-savvy secret agent can tell you that it’s always a good idea to keep abreast of livestock-stupefying techniques. A chicken’s brain is small enough to be eclipsed by a dime, and is therefore a particularly easy subject. You’ll need A) an ordinary chicken, and B) a finger. In the old days they used chalk, but a plain old finger or a stick does the job just as well.
Start by holding the chicken’s head against the ground, and place the tip of your finger on the ground right in front of the chicken’s beak. Then, while holding the chicken’s head, use your finger to draw a straight line directly away from it. It will quickly enter a trance-like state with significantly reduced heart and respiration rates, and will remain this way for anywhere from fifteen seconds to several hours. Most of the time, it’s on the order of a few minutes before the bird normalizes.
Originally posted on Damn Interesting!, written by Alan Bellows
Tic Tac Toe is Unnatural
A local television interview with RAW from the 1980s... I can't imagine an interview like this taking place today on any local station, even in Frisco.
The woman interviewing RAW is a gem. "If you are familiar with it, you will know that three novels appeared in the trilogy." You can't write lines like that. Well, you could, but it wouldn't be nearly as amusing.
44th Anniversary of the Pentagon Exorcism
Handbill written by Ed Sanders with instructions for Pentagon exorcism.
Next Friday, October 21, will be the 44th anniversary of the march on Washington, D.C. when 70,000 peaceful and very enthusiastic demonstrators gathered in front of the Lincoln Memorial on the D.C. Mall to protest the war in Vietnam. Later that day, 50,000 marched across Memorial Bridge to the Pentagon. Among the demonstrators were Abbie Hoffman, Allen Ginsberg and The Fugs. In addition to protesting the war, the poets, pranksters and musicians had come to the Pentagon to levitate it. Fug member, wordslinger and alchemist Ed Sanders had prepared a magical incantation that would exorcise (exorgasm) the Pentagon and then lift it high into the air.
In the name of the amulets of touching, seeing, groping, hearing and loving, we call upon the powers of the cosmos to protect our ceremonies in the name of Zeus, in the name of Anubis, god of the dead, in the name of all those killed because they do not comprehend, in the name of the lives of the soldiers in Vietnam who were killed because of a bad karma, in the name of sea-born Aphrodite, in the name of Magna Mater, in the name of Dionysus, Zagreus, Jesus, Yahweh, the unnamable, the quintessent finality of the Zoroastrian fire, in the name of Hermes, in the name of the Beak of Sok, in the name of scarab, in the name, in the name, in the name of the Tyrone Power Pound Cake Society in the Sky, in the name of Rah, Osiris, Horus, Nepta, Isis, in the name of the flowing living universe, in the name of the mouth of the river, we call upon the spirit to raise the Pentagon from its destiny and preserve it.
Norman Mailer who attended the march summarized the exorcism ritual thusly:
Now, here, after several years of the blandest reports from the religious explorers of LSD, vague Tibetan lama goody-goodness auras of religiosity being the only publicly announced or even rumored fruit from all trips back from the buried Atlantis of LSD, now suddenly an entire generation of acid-heads seemed to have said goodbye to easy visions of heaven, no, now the witches were here, and rites of exorcism, and black terrors of the night – hippies being murdered. Yes, the hippies had gone from Tibet to Christ to the Middle Ages, now they were Revolutionary Alchemists.”
The Pentagon did not levitate, though some of us who were there may have seen it shudder a bit. As to whether the exorcism worked or not, I think it may have for the 50,000 ecstatic people in attendance - the vibes around the Pentagon would never ever be as sublime as on that afternoon.
In this rarely seen footage, Edward Folger shot some 16mm film during the march and created what he describes as an “impressionistic immersion in the experience of the march.”
The Case Against Color
Yesterday, I overheard a conversation between two homeless men who were waiting in a line for lunch at a nearby shelter. I was waiting for a bus on a bench close to where the two were standing, and happened to overhear one of them mention a 'golden apple'. This, of course, piqued my interest, so I began to listen to the two.
It turns out that the 'golden apple' the one man was referring to was what is commonly referred to as an 'Orange', but he is correct that at one time the fruit was called a golden apple - the conversation centered around the man holding the orange trying to convince the other man that the fruit he was holding was in fact blue, not orange.
"It's like this," said the man. "color works in opposites. When you look at an Orange the light bounces off the Orange, and back to your eye. But, the thing is, the thing is this: the Orange absorbs all the colors of the white light, and only bounces back the color orange to your eye. So, really, the Orange is any color BUT orange."
"I don't get it." said the other man. "Why does it look orange to us, then?"
"Because that's the only color bouncing back to your eye. It looks orange because orange is bouncing back. The eye works on opposites. We actually see things upside down, but our eyes correct the image so that we see it normally. And, we usually see in negative, but the eye corrects for that too."
"That's fucked." the other man answered aptly.
It was at this point that I turned to the two men. "I'll tell you what's more fucked. Color doesn't exist at all."
They both just stared at me. I continued: "Think about this: Everything is made from molecules, right? Well, what color are molecules?"
The one man shrugged, and the other said: "I don't know."
I winked. "Exactly. That's because molecules don't have any color. And, if everything is made from molecules, and molecules have no color, than de facto NOTHING has color."
Before either man could respond I disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Canonization: Cyrus Teed
Cyrus Teed was one of the few who have spoken directly with Our Goddess, Eris Nancy Discordia, and because of not only this, but also for his unflinching devotion to promoting her Divine Madness, he has been canonized in the First Church of Discord.Teed, born in 5839 YD, was a cousin of another who came in contact with some form of Mystical Touch, Joseph Smith, the founder of Mormonism, and while working in his "electro-alchemical laboratory" received an electric shock which sent him into blissful reverie. While in this other world he was contacted by the Goddess, who told him that She alone had created the world, referring to Herself as 'She What Done It All', claiming the well-known Christian Male god had nothing whatsoever to do with the formation, but claimed full credit nonetheless. In doing so, She informed Teed, he had created gross falsifications about how it all worked, and moreover, had allowed scientists to twist the lies even further.
The Universe, She lectured, was NOT as we had been lead to believe, natch. She, however, would enlighten Teed on how things really were, and he would resolve the war between science and religion with the hot scoop: The Universe consisted of solid rock from here until Goddess only knows where . . . one hollow spot in the center of it all is where we live. According to Her divine testimony, human beings live on the inside of the planet, not the outside. Gravity thus does not exist, and humans are held in place due to centrifugal force. The sun is a giant battery-operated contraption, and the stars are merely psychedelic refractions of its light.
If any proof of the Goddess's identity was needed, it may be found in the divinely ludicrous postscript to Her message: that Teed should end racism by uniting the Whites and the Blacks, while keeping the Orientals out of the country altogether, a trait he had in common with another Discordian saint, St.Bean.[The management at DU HEXEN HASE! would like to point out at this juncture that we do not endorse the views on race held by all of our saints. We both love, and despise, people of all cultures and walks of life. So there. -Ed.]
Teed changed his name to Koresh (the Hebrew version of Cyrus) and formed a new religion named Koreshanity, attracting thousands of followers. The group set up camp in Estero, Florida eventually planning to usurp the insane popularity of Christianity. It was, alas, not to be: in 5907 YD Teed was beaten severely by the town marshall, a member of the Illuminati, and died shortly thereafter. His followers, who -like Teed- followed the Goddess's theory of reincarnation, believed Teed would come back to life, so instead of burying him, they propped him up in the traditional Discordian meditation device: a bathtub. After several days, local health officials stepped in due to hundreds of complaints of something smelling worse than a White Castle burger, and forced the burial of Teed, thereby ruining his chances of reincarnating back into the same body, and effectively closing down Koreshanity. Some say you can still hear the Goddess giggling near Estero, Florida to this day.
And so, as Pontifex Maximus, I hereby rename Cyrus Teed as 'St.Teed'.
Combustable Jesus
A six-story statue of Jesus Christ was struck by lightning and burned to the ground, leaving only a blackened steel skeleton and pieces of foam that were scooped up by curious onlookers Tuesday.
The "King of Kings" statue, one of southwest Ohio's most familiar landmarks, had stood since 2004 at the evangelical Solid Rock Church along Interstate 75 in Monroe, just north of Cincinnati.
The lightning strike set the statue ablaze around 11:15 p.m. Monday, Monroe police dispatchers said.
The sculpture, about 62 feet tall and 40 feet wide at the base, showed Jesus from the torso up and was nicknamed Touchdown Jesus because of the way the arms were raised, similar to a referee signaling a touchdown. It was made of plastic foam and fiberglass over a steel frame, which is all that remained Tuesday.
No comment.
A New Teaching
It came to pass one day that two students of Zaurn the Grey were sitting in the school garden, marveling at all their newfound knowledge. Nearby, the Heirophant was quietly reading a comic book.
Pohkaroo turned to ZauZajer and said: 'Zaurn the Wise taught me today about the true nature of solidity. He taught that seemingly solid objects are, in fact, made from tiny particles. They appear to our eyes and fingers as solid, but in reality much space is between these particle, in a relative sense.'
ZauZajer stroked his goatee, which meant he was pondering. 'Interesting,' said he. 'for Zaurn the Erudite taught me today that vision and touch are the results of signals being passed to our minds from the outside world. We see, yet we are verily as blind as a Srizzlefish. For all we know our signals may be crossed and our vision and touch may be all lies.'
Pohkaroo stared for a moment at the flagstones under his feet. 'Do you realize what this means?' he asked.
'I think I do.' ZauZajer answered, with a tremble of fear in his eyes.
'With so much uncertainty, how can we know anything?' Pohkaroo squeaked.
'Yes!' cried ZauZajer. 'With so much uncertainty we ourselves may not even exist.'
The Heirophant, overhearing the discussion of the two students, strolled over. 'I overheard your discussion, because I was eavesdropping.' said he, then went on in this manner: 'If I may, I think I may be able to help you both with your problem. That is, if you would like the help?'
'Yes!' cried Pohkaroo. 'We are lost!'
'Please!' wailed ZauZajer. 'Enlighten us!'
The Heirophant smiled, rubbed his hands together briskly, then put a hand on each of the student's shoulders. He leaned toward them, conspiratorially. Pohkaroo and ZauZajer leaned in, waiting for the answer.
The Heirophant swiftly knocked both of the two skulls together, letting out a ringing GONG sound.
Thus, were both enlightened.
Pohkaroo turned to ZauZajer and said: 'Zaurn the Wise taught me today about the true nature of solidity. He taught that seemingly solid objects are, in fact, made from tiny particles. They appear to our eyes and fingers as solid, but in reality much space is between these particle, in a relative sense.'
ZauZajer stroked his goatee, which meant he was pondering. 'Interesting,' said he. 'for Zaurn the Erudite taught me today that vision and touch are the results of signals being passed to our minds from the outside world. We see, yet we are verily as blind as a Srizzlefish. For all we know our signals may be crossed and our vision and touch may be all lies.'
Pohkaroo stared for a moment at the flagstones under his feet. 'Do you realize what this means?' he asked.
'I think I do.' ZauZajer answered, with a tremble of fear in his eyes.
'With so much uncertainty, how can we know anything?' Pohkaroo squeaked.
'Yes!' cried ZauZajer. 'With so much uncertainty we ourselves may not even exist.'
The Heirophant, overhearing the discussion of the two students, strolled over. 'I overheard your discussion, because I was eavesdropping.' said he, then went on in this manner: 'If I may, I think I may be able to help you both with your problem. That is, if you would like the help?'
'Yes!' cried Pohkaroo. 'We are lost!'
'Please!' wailed ZauZajer. 'Enlighten us!'
The Heirophant smiled, rubbed his hands together briskly, then put a hand on each of the student's shoulders. He leaned toward them, conspiratorially. Pohkaroo and ZauZajer leaned in, waiting for the answer.
The Heirophant swiftly knocked both of the two skulls together, letting out a ringing GONG sound.
Thus, were both enlightened.
The Cobbler And Bean
One hot arid day in the small town of Langtry, the inimitable Judge Roy Bean stuck his head into the doorway of the town cobbler. "Hey there old man," Bean said. "have you ever seen me before?"
The cobbler stopped his work. "No," he replied.
"Then," cried Bean, with a laugh. "how do you know I am me?!"
With that, Judge Bean disappeared in a puff of smoke. Thus, the cobbler was illuminated.
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