Story Time: Exchange Students

Welcome, Dear Reader, to Easter at the LoL…

*Wait… /rubs eyes… didn’t we start yesterday’s post with that tweet from Cade, Clicky?*

*Ah, okay. Thanks, Clicky…/pats snout… Gotcha…*

Today we are delighted to be able to present for you one of Cade’s stories from the latest Underdog Anthology, ‘Transgenre Dreams’. Enjoy! ❤

*******

Exchange Students

by Cade F.O.N. Apollyon

The days have lost their darkness. Like all of the seasons, Spring brings many of its own wonders. Some we like, some we don’t. Some we notice, others…not so much. One of the wonders that Spring brings, at least in this part of the world, is the erasure of the embedded darkness in the days.

Many seem not to notice, but it is there. A hazy, embedded darkness in each and every Winter day, that keeps Sol’s heat at bay so that Winter can do her work. Spring carries a key to releasing the grip of this Winter darkness. It usually happens over the span of a single day in late Winter, each year, and for those who are looking, it is very easy to see.

Today’s date is the 22nd of March in the year 2019 CE, and by my own accounting, the darkness first started to be released a week or so ago. You can tell, because the shade of the sky is…different. Brighter at a certain time of the day than it was at or around the same time on the previous day. That embedded darkness will not return until Fall and Winter return. And, there will be several more increases in the light over the coming months. The brightness will reach its peaks in the months of July and August; the months in which here, the temperature will usually rise to oppressive levels. Day after day of a sweltering and inescapable heat. No embedded darkness to shield us.

Why am I writing about all of this darkness and light business, you might ask? Perhaps you are one who enjoys seeing wonders, and never knew that such a thing even existed. This phenomenon of a change in the sky’s opacity and luminescence is not something that you can actually sit, wait and watch to happen. You just need to be mindful of it. If you watch the sky enough, you can train yourself to notice variations in the shades and colors of the skies.

Today, I am sitting out back, banging away on the laptop, and thinking about the sky I am currently seeing. Thinking about the skies I’ve seen. Comparing those skies in my mind to what I am actually seeing in real time. All the while, taking some notes.

It occurs to me to suggest that this darkness phenomenon is akin to seeing the sky go dark, then turn light again during a solar eclipse. Winter brings an embedded darkness to our days, ands Spring bri…woah!

Apologies for the interruption, but something just flew in front of the Sun; a plane I’m guessing. There was that rapid change in the Sun’s brightness that lasted for but a fraction of a second. I suppose my heart is beating so fast and my mind racing because I am, ironically, writing on just this very topic.

Um…it just happened again. That blip of a rapid change in the Sun’s brightness, and it happened in less than a minute after the previous. I know a bit about aviation, so I know enough to know that aircraft are spaced further apart than that. A bird perhaps? Circling vultures or some large bird of prey? They are quite common here. Busy airways in this area, so there are many possibilities at this point.

There is a high, thin layer of cloud today, but the Sun is still very bright, and plenty of blue sky. I only mention this because that blip just happened for a third time, then almost immediately a fourth. I see no planes, I hear no planes, I see no birds. Of course I am stopping my typing occasionally to observe, and I know that I am somewhat straying off topic, but this whatever it turns out to be is interesting to me. I have observed this phenomenon many times before, but never with this frequency. Not even close.

It is still happening, and I’ve now lost count of how many times it has happened. I cannot look directly at the sun, but I certainly cannot see anything on the perimeter of the Sun’s disk that might be causing this. The frequency is too often. Something very odd happening here. Almost like someone waving their hand rapidly in front of the light bulb on a lamp. But in this case, I cannot actually see what is causing the Sun to be blotted temporarily.

My heart is beating out of my chest as I write this. The frequency and duration have both dramatically increased, and I suddenly feel I’m at some weird daytime Rave. I’ve experienced some weird shit in my life, but this is completely fucking new.

WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK!!!

OMG!!!

I CANNOT BELIEVE WHAT I AM SEEING!!!

Gotta stop writing.

Be right back…I hope.

***

I just had…the weirdest fucking conversation…that I have ever had in my entire life.

Um…give me a second to get my bearings so that I can accurately relate the completely fucked up shit that just happened to me. My heart is pumping hard in my chest again, but it’s only because I’m trying to figure out what in the fuck to do at this point. How to try and grasp the meaning of what happened and how to relate it. Perhaps even if I should. If so, to whom?

OK…I’ve already dismissed the urge to contact MUFON and file a report. Police? Not a fucking chance. The military? Yeah right. A friend? Fuck no…I have no friends, not for something like this. Local government? NASA? Ghostbusters? Who in the fuck do you call? What do you do?

This is something, that in all my years of watching Bigfoot, UFO and other weird documentaries, I have never considered before now. Now what? You wanted the experience, you got it, now what?

The fucker is now gone, but as you may have guessed, yes, I just saw a goddamn UFO. I’ve seen plenty of UFOs in my lifetime, but there are only a very few of my own personal sightings that I cannot explain. This fucker, just landed in my back yard, no bullshit. I seem to be able to explain this one just fine…or maybe not. Digress.

I’m sitting outside in one these fucked up sun-chaser outdoor recliners, typing all that bullshit above about the sky changing, then all that weird crap started happening. I stopped writing when I finally saw what was dancing all wiggly in front of the sun and causing that rapid “micro-shade” or whatever it might be called. Just when I thought I was going to have a seizure from all that flashing, this purple and green…ship…came into full view. It descended down from right above me, and plopped itself down in this tiny-assed backyard of mine.

Weird, because the fucker looked HUGE in the sky, but the closer it got to the ground, the smaller it got. No idea how it fitted in this tiny yard. Made no sense whatsoever, and I don’t want to speculate about the shrinking and growing possibilities at this particular junction. None of this shit makes any sense. Least of all…that totally bizarre and completely fucked up exchange between…us. I have no idea what that was. But yes…us.

***

I am sitting here, hands shaking, trying to get my head wrapped around all this crap, what to tell and how. But holy SHIT…all I can think about is that conversation I just had. Yes, an “alien” got out of their spaceship, and they fucking talked to me.

You know what? Fuck this noise. I’m gonna play transcriptionist here, and try my best to make an accurate record of the conversation while it is still fresh in my mind.

My mind…my fucking mind.

Jesus H. Christ…where in the fuck is my fucking mind right now?

***

Alien: Where is your mating orifice!?

Me: ???

NOTE: I said nothing of course. But if ever in my life there was cartoon bubble containing question marks floating over my head, it was precisely at this exact moment in time.

Alien: Do you speak?

Me: Yes, I speak.

Alien: Then you likely also have the capacity to hear. Where is your mating orifice!?

Me: Um…I don’t have a mating orifice…that I am aware of.

Alien: All beings having mating orifices! Where is yours!?

Me: At work?

Alien: At work. Ah, so it is already currently active in a utilization sequence?

Me: No, not that I’m aware of. It better not be anyway.

Alien: Is your culture one that speaks only in riddles?

Me: Not…always, no.

Alien: Then explain how your mating orifice can be in an active utilization sequence when you do not know where it is located!

Me: I was thinking of my girlfriend.

Alien: You think of others while your mating orifice is in use?

Me: No, I don’t think of…wait. I, do not have a mating orifice. I think my girlfriend does though.

NOTE: It was at this point in which I realized, that my childish desire to please had suddenly taken a turn. Am I, completely by accident, about to inadvertently pimp out my girlfriend to an alien?

Alien: I have traveled the length and breadth of the great void and seen its many wonders, and I tell you, that I have never encountered a being that does not have a mating orifice! Where is yours!?

Me: And I’m telling you, that I’m pretty sure to an accuracy of almost 100%, that I do not have a mating orifice. I was simply thinking that I may know where one is.

Alien: Where is it? And why it is there and not here!?

Me: My girlfriend. Your unusual request initially made me think of my girlfriend. She’s at work.

Alien: This girlfriend has a mating orifice?

Me: Maybe. Before I came to my senses, it had occurred to me to perhaps call her.

Alien: Her?

Me: Yes, her. I’d thought to call her.

Alien: Call?

Me: My girlfriend.

Alien: Girlfriend?

Me: On the phone.

Alien: Phone?

Me: At her job.

Alien: Job?

“Me: My girlfriend, she’s at work, I’d have to call her, on the phone, at her job, to verify the mating orifice…status.”

Alien: WHY ARE THERE SO MANY INTERMEDIARIES BETWEEN YOU AND YOUR MATING ORIFICE!!!

Me: Now that I think of it, that’s a damn good question.

Alien: If this query is in fact good, why have you not obtained an answer to it!?

Me: That’s an even better question.

Alien: Where do you currently stand in your quest to obtain these answers!?

Me: Your questions keep getting better and better. Keep this line of questioning up, and you could probably rule this planet in the span of a week if you wanted.

Alien: I have no desire to rule your planet! I seek a mating orifice!!

Me: If anything, that’s one point we both seem to be clear on.

Alien: You are trying to deceive me with your riddles in order to hide your mating orifice?! Immediately remove your veils for verification!!

Me: !!!

NOTE: Now, I admit that I’d been sitting outside in the sun, nothing on but a t-shirt and jogging shorts, not wearing any underwear, and it occurred to me that it would be real fucking simple to answer a whole lot of questions and possibly solve a lot mysteries if I were to simply pull my shorts down posthaste and forthwith. But there was no fucking way that I was going to drop-trou just because some alien shows up, looking to get laid, all whilst experiencing some gender confusion in this particular quadrant of the galaxy, then demands that I present my junk for their inspection. And so, at the speed of light I might add, that’s exactly what I did.

Alien: Ah, I see. Not very well, but I do see. You are Pleggbah. Equipped with doingy doinger…like Muuk!

Me: If there is a God, I pray to them now, that you are Muuk?

Alien: I am Muuk…The Pleaser.

Me: Pleased…er sorry, to meet you…Muuk…The Pleaser. I’m not sorry to meet you, was just going to say “pleased to meet you” and kinda got tripped up.

Alien: A simple “greetings” would have sufficed in this exchange.

Me: Noted protocol for future reference. My name is Phillip. You may call me Phil if you like.

Alien: Phillip called Phil, you are in fact not equipped with doingy doinger like Muuk.

Me: I’m continuing to make mental notes of the pertinent details whilst dealing with the flood of data. Some contextual clues are beginning to form some pictures for me though.

Alien: While making notes, do not again use subversion to covertly ask Muuk about the existence of God.

Me: Noted…no religion, and I’m guessing no politics either?

Alien: Guess all you care to! Met God once or twice. Unpleasant type. No sense of humor.

Me: That revelation would not surprise me in the least were it not for the bullshit that is currently going down right here and now.

Alien: Going down like veils that previously concealed Phillip Phil’s doingy doinger?

Me: Among other things.

Alien: Save your existential riddles for your institutions of higher learning!

Me: Will do. And, for the sake of clarity, a “doingy doinger”, I’m guessing, is in fact this thing right here between my legs that I’m about to go to jail for unleashing in public even though I’m in my own back yard?

Alien: Correct. Muuk has many doingy doingers.

Me: Ironically, I sense a monologue in my very near future. With no pun intended there.

Alien: Many mating orifices exist in the void. Many dimensions to cover, many needs, much work, and there is only one Muuk. One Muuk has many doingy doingers for many occasions.

Me: You have many of these things? And before you respond, I’m going to take what you tell me as gospel truth at your word. I don’t require visual confirmation of any kind whatsoever, even though I admit that a video camera would come in really fucking handy at this precise moment for all kinds of reasons.

Alien: Muuk, known as The Pleaser, evolved many a doingy doinger over many cycles of time to please many a mating orifice through the ages.

Me: I could see where that might come in handy for the right… Pleggbah? I think it was?

Alien: Being with doingy doinger is Pleggbah. Muuk is Pleggbah. Phil…is…slightly above the curve according to initial rough estimates.

Me: I’m going to sleep the sleep of angels tonight in that knowledge.

Alien: Muuk has utilized my ship’s surveillance units during conversational exchange to take the dimensions of your doingy doinger. Will craft duplicate. May come in handy for Muuk.

Me: My dimensions sometimes come in handy for me.

Alien: Muuk may encounter being that desires displeasure or dissatisfaction.

Me: Thanks for that exclamation point on the matter.

Alien: My pleasure. Hararar rarah! That was humor since pleasure will be Muuk’s.

Me: You laugh at your own jokes. I have that problem too.

Alien: Laugh at own jokes is only problem Muuk have. Phil have Muuk at numerical disadvantage in the category of problems to have.

Me: That sleep of angels coming tonight will be haunted by nightmares of demons shitting on every second of it.

Alien: Displeasure is need like any other.

Me: I’ll spend the rest of my days knowing an exact replica dick of mine is causing displeasure and dissatisfaction all over the Universe.

Alien: Everywhere but here.

Me: What?!

Alien: Everywhere but here…Phil.

Me: Uh…I…

Alien: Utilization. Proper utilization of available supplies or components. Old universal parable… ”It is not the dimensions of the craft, but the vectors of the matter.

Me: We sorta have that same saying here… “It’s not the size of the ship, but the motion of the ocean”.

Alien: You say tomato, I say vincherapine.

Me: I guess I can relate to that…somewhat…eventually perhaps. Maybe after some heavy cycles of Thorazine and Quaalude therapy.

Alien: You will recover without medication cycles. Take your time.

Me: Another note to make in what is now likely to be my psychiatric journal.

Alien: I must go, and now.

Me: So soon?

Alien: No mating orifices to be found here.

Me: Well, there actually are some to be found here. You just need take your time. Maybe heed some of your own advice?

Alien: Noted. Farewell Phillip called Phil.

Me: See you around Muuk.

Alien: It is assured you will see me again.

Me: Great. I mean, yeah. Great.

Alien: Muuk serious. Will return.

Me: Seriously?

Alien: Yes. Someday, Muuk The Pleaser will return to Phillip. But not for Philip. As in…

Me: I think I get the gist Muuk.

Alien: Going now. Be back later.

Me: In that case, I’ll see you when I see you. Travel well Muuk…be safe.

Alien: Will try. Earth orbit treacherous. Much junk. Many debris. Approach and departure risky.

Me: We’re actually working on that, believe it or not.

Alien: Stay on it. Outlook currently grim. Now, Muuk go get lost in void. Find orifices to please.

Me: Later Muuk. Good luck with the ladies.

Alien: And Phil, retract your garment to its original configuration and/or placement.

Me: Thanks.

***

And so, that’s it. I just had an honest to God, UFO + extra-terrestrial close encounter of the you-gotta-be-shitting-me kind. In my own yard. In the broad daylight.

I was left standing there in my backyard, mouth agape, shorts down. Wondering what chance there was that a video of this event was going to somehow materialize and wind up on the Internet, and if so, what I would think about that. I just had the most bizarre exchange of my life in a “what the fuck” moment of epic proportions, involving an alien being of some kind who I guess was looking to get laid.

I pulled my shorts up, watched this weird looking spacecraft lift-off into space from my backyard, and started to contemplate the weird fucker named Muuk who was piloting it. A space cowboy with a bunch of penises. Then I sat down, grabbed the laptop, and I’ve been at it ever since.

Thinking about it now, my penis has multiple dimensions…sorta. Something like multiple penises, except in a single package. It get’s bigger, it gets smaller, lots of dimensions between here and there. Interesting. Digress.

I do wonder if he and his fabled many doingy doingers will actually be back. Not that I care about the bouncy bits. Hell, they may not even exist. I didn’t see a doingy doinger, let alone many. Maybe he was some interstellar perv pulling some intergalactic prank for some channel on the Milky Way’s version of YouTube? Fuck. I feel like a complete dunce all of sudden.

At least I didn’t get the “industry standard” type probing.

Just gave an alien the full Monty in the Spring sunshine.

Full frontal nudity.

Or thereabouts, in my case.

*******

😀 We hope you enjoyed that, Dear Reader, and suggest you invest in a copy UA8 ‘Transgenre Dreams’ if want read any more of the fabulous stories contained within it. Clicky and I will be back tomorrow with an Easter Sunday Shambles, but until then, have a Song 😉

Missive From ‘Merica: Rawr! What Is It Good For?

😀 Underdog Anthology 8 is now out and available to buy, Dear Reader…

…And if you ‘click’ on FREE PREVIEW, just above, you’ll be able to read my story, ‘BOGOF’ for free…

*Indeed the deal is pretty fuckin’ sweet, my lovely dolphin shaped assistant… /lights up…*

*Oh and Leggy posted one of his entries for free reading, Clicky… /drags… Excellent. That’s the sort of story you can’t stop thinking about. It does actually explain everything…*

*Aww, thanks, Clicky…/pats snout… When I chose ‘Tyger Tyger’ to mutilate for the Afterword, I had no idea what ‘orses were running in the today’s National… /streams smoke…*

…And now, Dear Reader, here is a missive from Cade. His stories in UA8 are particularly awesome reads…

Enjoy! ❤

*******

Heilig Glockenspiels Fledermauskumpel!!!

Deutschland is contemplating rearming themselves!!!

WITH NUKES!!!

^New nuclear weapons in Europe – The return of the Cold War? | DW Documentary^

Lemme know when your tits stop jiggling from the shock of that revelation, and we can then discuss the matter in a serious manner.

Deutschland is contemplating rearming themselves!!! WITH NUKES!!!

See what I did there?

I like the way you move baby.

rawr

But seriously, it seems the shoe is on the other foot. Has The USA already forgotten what lost the USSR the “Cold War” in the first place? Not that I personally think The Cold War ever ended, but it was said that we bankrupted them. Is us spending fucktons on weapons a smart thing to do? If The US and Europe has to endure another Cold War, it’s our own fucking fault. But can we endure another one? Is the US and a lot of the NATO nations prepared to lose this next Cold War? Are you ready to lead another Cold War? Are your citizens ready to fight another Cold War?

You reap what you sow?
^Exceptional Engineering – Harvesting Giants^

I’m not trying to stir your shit up. Seriously, for realz, I’m not. Just wondering what it is that we’d be fighting about. Before it was Democracy (Capitalism) vs. Communism (Socialism). But what is it now? Russia has an axe or two to grind. One, being beaten, and two being snubbed after being beaten. What do we in the West have? On what grounds do we stand? The fact that Russia may have an axe to grind? I would imagine they’d only be interested if we put them in that position.

 Digress

Lots of nations kinda lucked-out with WWII in that they were able to acquire all kinds of territories during the course of the war. But currently, we have no war. None where any real lands can be acquired in such a way that you can plant your flag, claim it as your own, and your citizens and/or allies will nod in agreement. So with that in mind, where in the fuck is this land that countries are wanting to make a grab for? Where could they be?

^The new battle for North Pole supremacy – VPRO documentary^

Yes…those are some extremely long documentaries. Yes, I am an unemployed loser who has nothing better to do than to sit around all day becoming educated and informed on things. No, I am not an authority on anything. I guess that makes me an authority on nothing. Heh…heh…heh. Wait, did I lose you there?

Q1: Without a nothing, how can a something be defined?

A1: ???

Q2: What is this razor that shaves this line from a nothing into a something?

A2: ¿¿¿

We in our Age tend to rely on the presence of certain things in order to determine was is/is not. The big one is certification(s) via established bodies.

Degrees

From Associate Degrees to Black Belts, we like to use particular foundries to temper the knowing from the non-knowing…the learned from the unlearned…the known from the unknown. Some kind of something to reflect a prowess or a deficiency in a certain area. The standard logic is that knowledge gives you smarts, and experience gives you wisdom. But what if one were to spend their life trying to avoid knowledge? And I’m talking about a person who has the ability to absorb and understand knowledge, but for whatever reason, they personally feel a need to stay away from it.

Lemme guess…a loser. A slacker. A chickenshit. A waste of space. Void. Ichabod.

^MC 900 Ft Jesus – Talking To The Spirits^

I realize that I prolly sound like Darth Vader above.

“If only you knew the power of the dark side.” – Darth Vader

Cept in my case, I seem to be espousing the power of dumb. Which I guess is also dark since everyone seems to equate knowledge with light for some odd reason. Welp, think of it like this, we in our time are hung up on causality and causal effects. We really don’t seem to give a flying fuck about what happened, and spend on our time on why a something happened. The key is, the time and timing. After. We care after. Why “before” has different motivators prior to than after. Chance. We’re willing to take chances. Play the odds. Hedge our bets via someone else’s game(s). Hide truth and truths, then roll the dice.

Me? I wanna know what’s going on in that dark.

^The Prodigy – Voodoo People (Eskimo Remix) (HQ)^

From the time I was quite young, it was drilled into me “to know God’s plan for me.” Problem is, that practical applications of this approach never seemed to work real well. The better I did, the worse off I seemed to be. I’d get to the top, only to find that this was not good enough.

WTF? 

I’m exactly where you said I should be, and yet this is not good enough? My reward is scowls and contempt?

Wait...one...fucking...second here

What if, “God’s Plan” for me personally, was for me to be “a little bit dirty, and a little bit clean”? I suck at being bad, and I suck at being good. What if I’m supposed to be good at being indifferent? I mean, to be completely honest, if “God” has a plan for me, doesn’t that mean that “Satan” or “Lucifer” or who the fuck ever has a plan for me too? I’m sick of walking the edge on these two fuckers’ sides. I’m sick of always being in peril no matter which side I choose.

I know…I’ll put a foot on each side, and see how that goes. Maybe I’ll better understand both of these dipshits, and that’ll help me better understand my own dipshitty self. That may make zero sense to you who are reading this, but it makes perfect sense to me.

But enough about me
^Todd Terje – Inspector Norse Best Live Version^

Space and spaces of all kinds is where war is headed. We gotta figure out how to do it here if we are going to figure out how to do it there. At ground level, above ground level, underground, under water, under water underground, macrowar, microwar, you name it…the current void and voids is where it will be. Gonna be smooth as fuck, and I personally cannot wait.

^DEMOU – Like Velvet^
!!! HAPPZY FRIZDAY FUCKERZ !!! 

Wrote that shit yesterday, and what was the very first fucking thing to appear in front of my fat fucking face on this fine Friday?

Paul Craig Roberts: Where Is The World Headed?

Some freaky female from a far afield felt the need to tweet that out, and it hit my eyeballs as soon as I opened Twitter this morning.

Coincidence?

“The fulminations and threats from Washington against Russia brought forth new Russian weapon systems for which the US has no match or defense, weapons that demote the US to a second-rate military power.”

What is this “fear of second”? Oh wait, we’re talking about war here.

Second = loser

But that’s not really what interests me. “The Russians” were ahead of The US in just about every way back during The Cold War, so as best I can tell at this point, is that this is prolly more about a race to Mars than it is about shooting wars. But there is The North Pole to consider. And of course Antarctica. Which speaking of, when I opened YouTube to start listening to music? Guess what was waiting for me there.

^What Buzz Saw In Antartica Frightened Him So Bad That He Tweeted These Words…^

What…Buzz…saw.

rofl

Buzzsaw. That’s funny. Not as funny as Ali G calling Buzz Aldrin “Buzz Lightyear” to his face, but funny.

Digress

Um, I admit that I’ve pondered Buzz Aldrin’s comments about “evil” for some time now. Seeing something you do not understand is likely going to immediately cause one to qualify it as “evil”. Especially if you are seeing some things that I’m assuming that he saw.

EX: If you are looking at a flower with the naked eye, and you suddenly start seeing the genetic makeup of that same flower from the beginning of time to the end of time, you are likely going to be confused as fuck as to what you are seeing. And I’m talking about every genetic mutation/variation that took place from the beginning of time, that led up to the creation of this particular flower, and every genetic mutation/variation that will take place from now until the end of time.

So yeah, you see the entirety of eternity through the window of this one flower, and you see it in a very short period of time. Like running a movie backwards and forwards at the same time, on fast forward both ways, and you see the entirety in the span of a few seconds.

Now, if you have some context, some of what you see may make sense. Like say, you’ve seen this particular movie before, you may be able to pick out some things that make sense, but overall, it’s a fucking mess. But what if you’ve never seen this movie before? Yeah, it’s likely that none of it will make sense. Especially if this is not an experiment that you personally have setup.

It’s something that…just happens…while you are looking at a flower. Or maybe looking at some something in Antarctica. Or looking for some something in Antarctica.

^Nine Inch Nails – Down In It lyrics^

I know…you prolly think it impossible for someone to see anything like what I just described. Even tho I just described it, and I personally see it, you still think it impossible.

Q: Are you possible?

A: ?¿?

I’mpossible too.

^Republica – Ready to Go (Official Video)^

If there is a God, you really think this fat-headed fuck wants to throw people into some place of eternal suffering forever? I mean yeah, they prolly wanna throw me into some place of eternal suffering for calling them a fat-headed fuck, but I’m talking about your average person. Just wondering, if God is wanting to damn them, why in the fuck are you trying to save them? More than that, why aren’t they trying to save themselves? Are you prepared for “the tough questions”? Or you just gonna shrug them off. What about the tough answers. You ready for those? Yeah, I dunno either.

I guess we'll see
^empirion – The Dark Inside me^

Maybe your own warlike state and warlike inclinations are what keeps you from this enlightenment you seek?

/me shrugs
^The Prodigy – Funky Shit (Live At Red Square, Moscow – Russia 1997)^

Does this list piss you off? Not complete enough? Too subjective? Too many omissions? Includes shit you don’t agree with? Wanna fight about it?

^Evolution of Electronic Music – 1955 to 2017 (V2)^

cYacFa

^The Avalanches – ‘Frontier Psychiatrist’^

*******

*No idea what you mean… /stubs butt… Could you fetch a Song to finish with, Clicky…*

Until next time, Dear Reader… Have a Song 😀

*Hmm… Underdog Anthologies are the perfect loo reads, Clicky…*

 

Missive From ‘Merica: Doodlebugging

Dear Reader, the release of Underdog Anthology 8: Transgenre Dreams in imminent…

UA8 Cover

… At 230 pages it’s a bumper edition and, fingers crossed, will be available to purchase later this week. Butt for right now… Cade F.O.N. Apollyon, who has written two wonderful stories – one of which made me pee myself laughing; the other made me sob – and five lively poems for the latest anthology, has sent through a lovely missive. To tide us over 😉

Antediluvian Animals Ark.gif

*Know ‘er will be the next post, Clicky… /pats snout… Patience…*

*******

giphy

THE PROSECUTOR: Tries to get them in.

THE DEFENSE: Tries to get them out.

THE JUDGE: Tries to get them to where they need to be.

Is that right? Am I right on that? Notwithstanding corruptions of all kinds, is that the basis of a legal proceeding? It just occurs to me, that any competition is always a minimum of 1 v 2, not 1 v 1. Kinda 3  on 3, ‘cept, just 3, battling for 1.

So confusing
^MS MR – Hurricane (Official Video)^

What? You don’t get it? Well fuck me runnin’…you can’t have a contest without a rule set, rule sets, or some kind of governing body of some kind. Without that extra layer, there can be no contest, right? What happens if both competitors show up, all juiced up on steroids and blasted out of their minds on cocaine?

Yeah...the law...it wins.
^Bobby Fuller Four – I Fought The Law(1966)^

giphy-1

Yeah, Brexit is on my mind since March 29th has come and gone. See, here in Texas, we have these things called Antlions. I included a pic at the beginning of this whatever.

Antlion

An ant or some other creature wanders by, they fall into the pit these Antlions construct, and the more the wayward creature struggles and tries to escape, the more the pit collapses in on itself…keeps the hapless fucker trapped. I mean, who the fuck would go to all that trouble of creating a capture infrastructure that also lets individuals come and go as they please?

^Hee Haw Where Are You Tonight^

giphy-2

Today I learned that April Fool’s pranks cannot be played after noon. I actually think I’ve heard that before, but I’ve never adhered to that rule because I’ve a weird clock. Seriously, if I work the evening shift, I may not see many of my friends until sometime after noon. How can I participate if there are all these conflicting rules? Not only that, but what does it say about the current structures of the modern workday(s)? Do the modern modalities and stipulations with respect to employment leave any room for the employee?

Or is that too much of a stretch for you?

Holidays, work, nah…not related in the slightest.

^Pixies :: No. 13 Baby :: Extended Version (not official) :: with lyrics^

Ever heard of something called HTA? In 1971, Esso had “three new fuels” with something called HTA in them. I guess some kind of additive to reduce engine hesitation via fuel performance.

Q: Is it possible to find out what products a company had available at a specific time, and if so, what those products contained and why?

A: ? ¿

I’d like to know what kinds of materials a pair of socks contained back in the 1970’s, but it would appear my quest is akin to finding a needle in a stack of needle-stacks.

Digress

Esso

Nope…no mention of “HTA” there. Let’s go straight to the source.

Esso

Hrm…it would seem that for North America, Esso only has retail locations in Canada now, so I’d imagine that any 1970’s products and their components would likely not be mentioned. But, let’s give it a whirl anyway.

Esso Canada

Nope. Went to the search function, searched for “HTA” (without quotes), and “no results found” was my reward. I know! Let’s us try this!

Exxon

FUCK! No mention of HTA there either. OK, so, let’s go the corporate route.

ExxonMobil

“Your search returned no results for HTA”

/me scratches head

OK…so…let’s just go to Google, and see if we can search for “what is HTA in gasoline”, and see what we can find via that.

High Temperature Accelerant Fires

Shit…just took a turn…for the surreal. But what’s this?

Improved Fuel Distribution-A New Role For Gasoline Additives

Le sigh

You can read the article for free, but you have to create an account to read the article.

^Esso (Exxon) Gasoline Commercial (1971)^

On my last gasps here, it appears that The EPA has a list of all registered gasoline additives.

List Of Registered Gasoline Additives

I guess “registered” is the key word. No “HTA” on that list either. But, there’s hope I guess…

Uneasy Rider: The Interstate Way Of Knowledge

To be honest, my Google searching has so fucking many HTA’s, and these HTA’s mean so goddamn many things, no telling what in the fuck HTA was…or is…or will be…

Dennis Klein’s Gas Engine Water Additive

But what’s this? Can it be? Have I finally hit…paydirt?

Encyclopedia of Chemical Processing and Design: Volume 2 – Additive to Alpha

Seems that some someone somewhere invented some something called “HTA”, and this some something is

“a mixture of nonpolymeric amines”

which are

“said to minimize wetting by gasoline of the intake system metal oxide layer.”

And so, we’ve possibly got our “HTA stuff” figured out, and what this HTA stuff does, but this is where shit really gets interesting, because the author goes on to possibly tell how it does it.

“Rather, small droplets are formed which tend better to be entrained in the air stream, thus reducing maldistribution due to a high inertia liquid film.”

OK, so, “polymer” is mentioned in a “nonpolymeric” context, and what immediately popped into my head was stringy, springy stretchy things, and “bubbles”. “Misting” of fuel(s) is usually required in order to get a particular fuel to burn the way you want it to. But gasoline is already quite unstable, so it’s usually a case of keeping it from burning until you want it to. Are they trying to keep the gasoline from creating bubbles/droplets and create “sheets” instead? There’s mention of film, and more than that, a high inertia liquid film. I wonder what that could mean?

Film – a thin skin or membrane

God does not play dice?

^Prodigy fans line the streets for Keith Flint funeral | ITV News^

giphy-3

Braintree? Keith Flint and Prodigy were from Braintree? Stephen King had a “Braintree Texas” in his book/movie The Stand.

Weird

Braintree is not a real town in Texas btw. Neither is Arnette. But there is an Arnett, TX.

Local time: Monday 11:33 AM

Weather: 49°F (9°C), Wind NE at 5 mph (8 km/h), 55% Humidity

That’s the weather for Arnett, TX on this fine Monday of April 1st.

How are you today?
^Primus – Too Many Puppies^

There was something in the news recently about churches and roller skating/roller skaters. I guess there were a couple of assholes brought swords to the party, one took the other’s sword away, and some motherfucker wound up getting cut because one of the swords was a shade more “swordy” than the other.

Hebrews 4:12?
^Chvrches – “Now is Not The Time”^

giphy-4
So back to the HTA crap, um…where were we?

Nonpolymeric
Polymeric
Polymer
Polymer

K, so, they are indeed trying to keep some stretchy and stringy things from forming, but what is this “ amines” crap?

Amines
Amine
Amine
Ammonia, eh?

Ammonia has been appearing on my radar a lot lately, but you don’t care about that, so let’s keep going with whatever in the fuck HTA is, how it works in gasoline, and why it was there in the first place.

Sheeting
What is Cascade’s sheeting action?
Wetting
Thin Film
Wafer (Electronics) (Redirected from Thick Film)

You think any concepts like these are applicable in…the spiritual realms? It’s just, I’m about to have to wander off into concepts like detonation, pre-ignition and all kinds of abnormal combustion that you prolly have no interest in.

It's sapping my will to read/type
^CHVRCHES – Lies^

Here’s the thing, earlier today, there was some more nonsense about “junk food” and it causing cancerous advertising or some such nonsense, and it really got me to thinking about my own relationships with sustenance. I don’t think some people realize what kind of razor blade I sometimes have to ride with respect to eating. Or maybe, they do, and they just want me to buy their junk food instead of someone else’s. Or maybe they couldn’t care less about me and my needs. That said, it has occurred to me from time to time that there are those that are well aware of some of the cancer dynamics, but ain’t saying nothing.

Like maybe, that there is a structural societal cancer build on top of disease that is so embedded, that removal of the disease is likely to be fatal to these systems that our societies function in and upon. Google is telling me that there are 18 million healthcare workers in the US alone, and there’s no real qualification as to what that means. Is someone who manufactures the sheets that go on the beds of an MRI machine considered “a healthcare worker”? Irrespective, I doubt very seriously that 60+ million healthcare workers worldwide are ready to be out of work. What does junk food and shaving have to do with Newtonian physics and HTA gasoline additives from the 1970’s?

I dunno yet. Working on it tho
^’Zdarlight’ DIGITALISM by Åbäke^

giphy-5

Meh…this Brexit shit has me down.

I'm leaving
^White Magic^

halfenchantedchrysomelid-size_restricted

cYa | cFa

^Tangerine Dream – Love On A Real Train (State Azure Cover)^

*******

Roo B. Doo Chalkwell Hall

*I told you, the next post, Clicky… /sigh… Come on, we need a Song to end…*

Have a Song, Dear Reader ❤

Trans-Genie Dreamy

The wait is near over, Dear Reader, and I’m not talking about Brexit…

UA8

*/lights up… Hey! That’s not the cover, Clicky… /drags… Leggy’s still working on that…*

*/smokes…*

… With the window for submissions closing fast, Underdog Anthology 8 has so far attracted 10 authors with 18 short stories and 11 poems, not including my mutilated offering in the Afterword

*So far on the Dead Poets Page, I’ve managed to… /counts on fingers… stitch up Shakespeare, ravage Routhier, lacerate Lazarus, willingly torture Wells & Tormé, wanker Wheatley, pillage Poe and obliterate Oliphant… /flicks ASH… About time I butchered Blake don’t ya fink, Clicky… /smokes contentedly…*

So, Dear Reader, with a hat-tip to Dr Seuss – never mess with Seuss – the LoL is pleased to present my perverse verse for Underdog Anthology 8 from Leg Iron Books. Of course it’s about Brexit…

crouching tiger hidden dragon 1

The Creeps (that stole Brexit Brexit)

by Roo B. Doo

 

Brexit Brexit, MPs blight,

In the politics of Fright;

What immoral Hansard lie,

Could frame their shameful skimitry?

 

What the distant Creeps despise,

Disbelieving of their lies?

In Labour town & Tory shire,

People chose Leave as their desire?

 

And what bluster, for their part,

In twisting syntax off the chart?

And so the Creeps began to cheat,

Safe in smugness, if not in seat.

 

“What the horror? Why the pain?”

“The People didn’t know thy brain!”

“What the oldies failed to grasp,

It’s not long ’til their final gasp!”

 

When the Creeps threw down their sneers,

Made amendments, with loud jeers,

Did they smile their work to see?

Do they know they’ll have to flee?

 

Brexit Brexit, MPs blight,

In the politics of Fright;

What immoral Hansard lie,

Could frame their shameful skimitry?

crouching tiger hidden dragon 2

*/stubs butt… Those fuckers are gonna rue the day, Clicky…*

Until next time, Dear Reader… Have a Song…

Missive From ‘Merica: Split Peace Oops (Part 1)

It’s been an very busy week or so, Dear Reader. Apart from requisite time spent in the Tower, I’ve been writing and editing short stories for ‘Underdog Anthology 8 – Transgenre Dreams’…

bogof

*/lights up… My story is two love stories… /drags… For the price of one… /stream smoke… Of course I called it ‘BOGOF’, Clicky…*

… And Cade sent through a missive, which I have been very remiss in not posting. So, here’s the first part. I’ve decided to split it…

Enjoy! ❤

*******

mellowweirdaustralianshelduck-size_restricted

Ya gotta look and play the part.

Doesn't matter what the intent is/intentions are... 

Ya gotta look and play the part.

Can you spot the difference between an authentic designer item and... 

a knockoff/counterfeit?

The Real Deal. The Genuine Article. The Real McCoy

False Etymology

Can't be havin' us no false metamologies in the age of meta.

Just acquire the requisite uniform and…

Bob's your UNCLE, Fanny's your AUNT, and you're in like FLYNN. 

Or in like Flint, depending on which “false etymology” you choose to chase/adopt.

The meaning and origin of the expression: In like Flynn

How do you know who to believe when a discrepancy is discovered and/or a dispute arises? Your first instinct will likely be to look for some authentic looking uniform/clothing, insignia, credentials, etc.

Different people sometimes carry different things in order to identify themselves…say for example,  polycarbonate riot shield and a baton.

Others may show “they mean business” by comporting themselves in other ways.

You just gotta stay on top of the game in order to stay in it. Me? I’m not very hep or hip or whatever. I had no idea his name was Keith Flint. The only member of The Prodigy who’s name I knew, was Leeroy, and as far as I know, he’s been out of the Prodigy for some time.

/me shrugs
^The Prodigy – Take Me To The Hospital (Official Video)^

tenor-1

I can only imagine what a nightmare that crap above was to format.

(sorry Roob)

Oh btw, if you’re looking for the “master tapes”…

they’re in the library…

with Colonel Mustard.

Something about a key,

but I have no idea what any of that means.

Sounds like some kind of argument to validate authenticity.
^Poison (Remastered)^

*******

*/smokes…*

Holiday Reading

I am on holiday this week, Dear Reader…

holiday (n.)

1500s, earlier haliday (c. 1200), from Old English haligdæg “holy day, consecrated day, religious anniversary; Sabbath,” from halig “holy” (see holy) + dæg “day” (see day); in 14c. meaning both “religious festival” and “day of exemption from labor and recreation,” but pronunciation and sense diverged 16c. As an adjective mid-15c. Happy holidays is from mid-19c., in British English, with reference to summer vacation from school. As a Christmastime greeting, by 1937, American English, in Camel cigarette ads.

*Camel, Kamala is rather tenuous, Clicky… /lights up… At best… /drags… Although I did receive a book… /cough… er, in the post today from Legs…*

*/plumes smoke… No, that’s the first in Leggy’s delightfully demonic series, Clicky. It’s set during the English Civil War and the heroine is a witch called J…*

*No, Jessica. It’s in the title… /smokes contentedly… What kinda wussy name is ‘Jussie’ anyway? …/flicks ash…*

*Not SAMuel’s Girl either… /drags… butt nice catch on that Tweeter’s name… /blows smoke ring… I dunno, Clicky, what with all the Brexit and Trump bashing…/blows another… Mainstream media must take us for mugs…*

Normans House Stash

*Yes! …/final drag… A signed copy of Norman’s House, plus branded mug and magnets arrived today…*

*The Leg Iron Books fridge magnets will come in handy next month… /stubs butt… when I do that open mic reading, Clicky… /bites lip… I’m fucked if I know which of my stories I’m gonna read…*

Arsy Darcy

*It won’t be one of Mum’s stories… /squints… And thanks for the vote of confidence…*

…I’m going to spend my week away from work, at home, writing for the next Underdog Anthology – due out in Spring. I’m also going to be practicing reading aloud for an event. It’s a long story, Dear Reader, and I’ll tell you about it later. In the meantime, have a Song 😀

 

Story Time: Waste Not, Want Not

*What a good idea, Clicky… /pats snout…*

Happy Valentine’s Day, Dear Reader. I’ve no chocolates or flowers to give you, so please enjoy ‘Waste Not, Want Not’, one of my Halloween short stories from Underdog Anthology VI: The Gallows Stone

… And have a Song ❤

*******

Waste Not, Want Not
By Roo B. Doo

The dark October morning was filled with urgent lights – red ones, amber ones, blue ones that flashed – and urgent shouts, pounding footsteps and screams. Lance Parrish took in the chaotic scene around him in quiet disbelief, until he caught sight of the remains of his bicycle – his new Genesis Skyline bicycle – crushed beneath the filthy wheels of a gargantuan waste removal lorry.

He bunched his hands into fists and shook with rage. In all the years Lance had commuted to work by bicycle, he had witnessed plenty of traffic chaos, but none of it had ever directly involved him. Until today.

“Jesus Christ!”

He stalked round to the front of the vehicle and craned his neck up to catch sight of the driver, but the cab was empty. Desperate to see the face of the menace that had mangled his bike and nearly killed him, Lance scanned the faces of the gathering crowd, looking for an expression of guilt. “Where’s the driver?” he shouted hoarsely. “Which of you is the driver of this death trap?”

Nobody replied, the crowd’s rapt attention was firmly fixed on the activity around the front wheel of the truck. Several bystanders had their phones out, capturing the scene. Lance was torn between feeling contempt and gratitude toward the ghouls; he would need all the evidence he could get when he sued the waste company for all it was worth. “Do any of you know who the driver is?” he called out again.

And then Lance spotted him, or rather the logo of the waste company emblazoned on the back of a hi-viz jacket. The driver stood away from the crowd, yabbering into a mobile phone. He looked burly and mean – not the type to mess with – but Lance didn’t care. Filled with furious indignation, he strode over to front it out with the man. “Hey you! I want a word with you!”

“No, it’s-“  the driver spoke into his phone, rubbing his meaty hand across his furrowed brow, “-it’s not good.”

“Hey! Are you the driver of the truck?”

“Yeah. Emergency Services are here.”

Lance reached the driver. “I want to talk to you.”

The driver continued his conversation. “Of course. You’d better let the site know. I think I’m gonna be stuck here for some time.”

“You cretinous oaf. Don’t ignore me!” Lance bellowed in frustration.

“Yeah okay.” The driver smiled ruefully, “Okay, okay yeah. Will do. I’ll let you know. Bye.” He ended the call and started scrolling through the contact numbers of his phone.

“Excuse me!” Lance said pointedly but the driver continued to ignore him. “I’m the person you very nearly killed. You know, the one on the bike that you’ve utterly destroyed.”

The driver lifted the phone back up to his face. “Hello Kath? It’s me. Don’t worry, love, but I’ve been involved in an accident. Nah, nah I’m okay…”

Lance was incandescent with rage. Not only was the truck driver completely ignoring him, but he was calling people up to brag about coming through it all unscathed. Lance could scarcely believe the obtuseness of the man. Unless…“Oh my god!” Lance howled with righteous scorn. “I just bet you voted for Brexit!”

The driver turned and walked away toward the doorway of a nearby shop, continuing his telephone conversation, and leaving Lance in his wake. “A cyclist undertook me as I was turning left…”

Lance was gobsmacked to hear the lies pouring from the man’s lips. “What do you mean, I undertook you?” He followed after the driver, who was now slouched against the shop window, looking back out at the truck and the crowds. “You didn’t bloody well indicate, you moron! What’s your name? I’m going to have you for hazardous driving.”

“I didn’t see him, Kath.” The driver’s face seemed to suddenly crumple. “Believe me, there was nothing I could do.” The driver’s eyes brimmed over with tears. He sniffed back a wet sob. “Nah…”

Lance had heard quite enough and squared up to the brute. “Now look here. I insist you put the phone away and talk to me.”

“… he didn’t make it.” The driver’s chest heaved once before a stream of hot vomit landed where Lance was standing.

“Ugh! You’re disgusting!” Lance jumped back. “You’re a complete disgrace!”

“He didn’t hit you, you know,” a voice said from behind Lance. It had the timbre of a box of gravel.

“What?” Lance asked, furiously shaking his feet. “What do you mean he didn’t hit me?”

“Well yes, yes he did hit you. Earlier. But not just now, not with his breakfast. Look.”

Miraculously, Lance’s trainers were free of vomit. Not a splash of what looked like it had once been a full English fry-up, adorned either his shoes or legs.

“But that’s incredible.” Lance marvelled at the lack of spew on him. “Hey! Where are you going?” he called to the driver, who having wiped his mouth, lit a cigarette and was now walking quickly away. “Don’t run away from me now. I order you to stop!”

Lance started after the retreating driver but the voice from behind halted him in his tracks. “Lancelot Graham Parrish, let him go.”

Everything stopped. The driver, a cloud of cigarette smoke shrouding his head, froze in mid step. Traffic in the distance stood still and the noisy din of the hectic morning was suddenly replaced by cacophonous silence.

“Turn around and face me,” the gravelly voice entreated.

Lance didn’t move, standing agog at the morning’s turn of events. He didn’t know what the hell was happening but he was quite certain that he did not want to turn around.

NOW!” The voice commanded and then sighed, like a shifting sand dune. “If you would be so kind.”

With shuffling steps, Lance slowly inched around.  Everything appeared frozen in time. He could see the offensive waste removal lorry and the crowd held in suspended animation around it. There was no movement, no sound and no owner of the voice; Lance was perplexed.

“Down here.”

Lance lowered his gaze until they alighted on a black-robed figure that stood barely tall enough to make eye contact with his hips. “Who are you?”

“Who’d you think?” the robed figure said, producing a spinning scythe from thin air.

Lance jumped back, a reflexive action due to the sharp proximity of the flashing blade to his groin. “I thought you’d be taller.”

The scythe ceased spinning, the wicked blade pointed directly at Lance. “Did you just assume my height?” the robed figure asked coolly.

“No!” Lance blurted out, intensely aware of the crackle of electricity that coursed along the edge of the scythe blade. “You sound taller. Look, I’ve never been in a situation like this before. This is all very new to me…”

The robed figure watched on passively as Lance tried desperately to collect up the scattered rags of his thoughts.

“Am I dead?”

“Well, let’s see shall we?” The robed figure quickly turned and suddenly the world was animated once more. The crowd in front of the waste removal truck parted to reveal two men hauling a body out from beneath it. Lance heard the shrieks and groans of the onlookers, as the body being carried out broke in half, falling to the ground with sickening thumps. Several witnessing bystanders duly followed suit.

“So I’m dead?” Lance was slightly perturbed as his own lack of squeamishness. “I’m dead, so that makes you Death.”

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” Death cackled good naturedly. “Welcome to the other side, Lance. May I call you Lance?”

“Sure,” Lance replied numbly. His attention returned to the antics of his so called ‘rescuers’, who were slipping about in his remains, even as they attempted to scoop them up from the road.

“Good, good. And your preferred personal pronouns are ‘he, him, his’?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Lance replied, tearing his gaze away from the scene of his death to look down at the small black robed figure of Death, who was unsheathing an electronic organiser from its leather case.

“Well, you look more like a ‘xe, xem, xyr’, but I don’t like to make assumptions.” Death switched on the organiser and started tapping on the keyboard. “Sorry, formalities. You are Lancelot Graham Parrish. Date of birth 29th February 1972. Date of death 31st October 2018…”

“Aren’t you meant to use an hourglass for that sort of thing?”

Death gave the electronic organiser a shake. “This is an upgrade.”

Lance bent down to get a better look at the gadget held in Death’s bony grasp. “But, but that’s a Psion!”

“So?”

“They’re so old fashioned.”

“And an hourglass isn’t?” Death paused for Lance to reply but was met by embarrassed silence. “Psionic, from Psi, 23rd letter of the Greek alphabet, pertaining to psyche. Spirit, soul, you know. You may think the portable tech of 2018 is all singing and dancing, but believe you me, it would be nothing without the introduction of these babies.”

“Psion organisers?” Lance asked incredulously.

“Psions were made specifically for use on this side.”

Lance shook his head in disbelief. “Then how come my father was able to buy one from Dixons in the High Street in 1984?”

Death visibly stiffened. “God knows. We don’t like to talk about it.” The electronic contraption disappeared back into the folds of Death’s robe. “Come on, Lance, we’ve got to move you on.”

Lance watched Death glide away in the same direction that his Brexit-voting killer had taken. He took one last look back at the scene of carnage where he’d met his grisly end, before following the tiny figure, robed in black. “So tell me, Death,” Lance asked, picking up the pace, “you said ‘God knows’. I take it then that there a god?”

Death stopped, nonchalantly spinning the scythe, waiting for Lance to catch up. “I don’t know. Why don’t we go and ask her?”

*******

*Come on, Clicky… /lights up… Let’s go and what Cade and Leggy are up to…*

Missive From ‘Merica: From the Edge

Missive Time, Dear Reader! I challenged the Okie Devil of Text US to send a postcard…

*Cade… /squints… You must know, Clicky…*

*Oh, you were pulling my Leg…*

*******

25b4ab7631322ece54df907f5ccce0e1

You are reading this sentence.

You have read that sentence.

You have read the previous two sentences, and are now reading this.

I can see why some people hate my writing.

I certainly give plenty of reasons.
Let’s keep at it.
^Pan-Pot – Weltlinie^

original

My kids went to a Superbowl party yesterday. Just asked my youngest who won, and he said…

”The Patriots. No wait, the…um…no, yeah, the Patriots.”

I’m guessing that one of the two teams had a fair shot at being the victor, and I guess someone, the game’s MVP, is going to Disneyland. Speaking of that, a certain someone passed along a link to a YT video where the Superbowl is being declared as…a Satanic Ritual!!!

Now, I don’t mean to get off on a rant here, but this sounds vaguely…familiar. Lots of people I’ve bumped into over the past few years have talked about the ritualistic nature of events, and especially, sporting events. Not going to mention any names, but yeah, there seems to be a fascination in certain realms with those who have a fascination with events. Almost sounds like watchers watching watchers kind of thing.

Digress to the realm of digrestishness.
^Boston 168 – Oblivion [ODDEVEN004]^

Dial 911, and I come running. The video is below, and if you take the time to read the description, you’ll notice that it uses enough catchy vernaculars to choke a horse. That immediately makes me personally…skeptical.

Skeptical about the content. 

Yes, I actually watched this video all the way through. It pretty much contains the same old crap of manufacturing synchronicities and/or syncs or whatever, and they do this by taking images and juxtaposing them to suit the video creator’s needs. Not saying that stuff like this isn’t sometimes shocking or jarring, because it is. But that’s kinda the deal with seeing things for the first time. Meaning: we wonder as to the meaning; we stand (or sit) with mouth agape, and wonder as to the purpose.

Is this chance?

Is this fate?

Why did I find this?

The short answer is, because you were looking for it. The long answer is, well, that’s your own path.

You'll find it....whatever it is.
^deadmau5 “Soma”^

“The Blood of Jesus” is very important in this video. So are shapes and symbolism, and how Satanists uses symbolism to achieve their purposes or whatever. Ironic that the creators of this video also use symbolism to forward their own agendas. Not only that, they use the very same symbolism. Makes we wonder which side you are really on. But while watching the video, and listen to their “Christian” blah blah blah, all I could think about, was…

…but Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. Early in the morning he came again to the temple. All the people came to him, and he sat down and taught them. The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery, and placing her in the midst they said to him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the Law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” This they said to test him, that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” And once more he bent down and wrote on the ground. But when they heard it, they went away one by one, beginning with the older ones, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him.

John 8: v 1-9 (ESV)

You gonna accuse Jesus of being Satanic for scribbling in the dirt?

Yeah, I didn't think so. 

Anyway, here’s the video if you have 13 minutes and 57 seconds to waste. 

^Satanic Ritual Bowl 53. Serpent Eyes Tree of Life. 69. Dragon of Babylon! 911^

giphy

As Roob has stated in her previous article, me and her watched Lord Of The Rings over the weekend. Yeah, all three of the fuckers.

The extended versions. 

What a journey that must have been. No…not the viewing by us over the weekend…the movie making process itself. I have no idea how long the process was, but it must have been long. Prolly a lot of people thrown together who had never met each other, possibly some long-term and lasting friendships created.

Q: Ever notice the views on a YT video, and you go back and watch the same video later, and the video has less views than it did the first time you watched it?

A: ???

Prolly has something to do with YouTube auditing and pruning views from click-farms or other nefarious revenue-generating streams. What’s that? You weren’t aware there was such a thing as click farms?

Click Farm

Click Fraud

You may also not have known that YT and other providers audit stats, but they do. What does YT video views/auditing, people meeting on a movie set, and click farms have to do with me and Roob watching the LOTR trilogy over the weekend?

MSM, baby. Networking.
^Regal – Fenix (Amelie Lens Remix) [INV020]^

If you want to watch people walk great distances in slow-motion, all while rehashing the same old arguments over and over, then LOTR is for you.

Stereotypes and archetypes. 

Holding on to the same old grudges, and doing the right thing anyway. The films definitely give you a lot of time to ponder the concepts addressed. That is, if you can stand the constant drone of the music trying to guide and direct your emotions. And the music in these films certainly does that. Almost as if the music is added simply to let you know how you should be feeling about a particular scene or set of events or whatever. It almost follows that soft-loud-soft principle that has become such a feature in contemporary/modern pop music.

Dynamics (Music)
Loudness
Frequency Response
Envelope (Music) (Redirected from ADSR envelope)
Attack
Decay
Sustain
Release

You think that certain people in certain groups/streams or whatever would use certain principles of warfare in an otherwise unrelated field or venue? Maybe even use musical principles as a tool of warfare? Prolly a stretch to think that someone would violate the sanctity and purity of something so wonderful as music, but to be fair, not everyone likes music. Lots of war, wars, battle/combat in this movie. Maybe music and warfare go together like bread and butter. Gollum hated bread for some reason tho.

Weird little fucker.
 ^FJAAK – The Tube [INVOLVE]^

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Ever feel a weird pinch when moving a certain way? Like, just under the skin. You remove a heavy dish from the oven, and suddenly, there is this weird burning/tearing kind of feeling in the skin of your fingers and/or hand because of how you are holding the dish?

Ergonomics. 

How often do you remove heavy food-laden dishes from an oven? Your main concerns are not getting burned while simultaneously not dropping the dish. Suddenly, there’s this weird pain that threatens you with both. Not to mention, you are left puzzled as to exactly what this pain was, and what was causing it. You get dismissive. You were holding the dish wrong. It was your fault. Ignore it, and make a note to hold dishes differently in the future when removing them from the oven.

^Pan-Pot – White Fiction^

That’s how easy mistakes are to make. You spot a minor irritation, and you make corrective action(s) that allow you to keep finding more and more ways to do things wrong. I’m not damning your ability to overcome obstacles, I’m simply trying to illustrate where things sometimes maybe start to go wrong. You’ll wind up down the road with some mobility threatening disability, and you will start to wonder where it all started.

You’ll look for “the big stuff” first. “Major” injures and traumas. Slips, falls, accidents of any kind that you can attribute to the disability so that insurance can get their socialistic heads wrapped around where to collate you and your ailment. They ain’t gonna pay for it otherwise.

Not that I’ve been down that road or anything, and not that I still travel it now. Just trying to maybe pass along, that yeah, I’m still working on it, and maybe you can help me out by making some mental notes about the things that you normally might think of as being dismissible and/or negligible. Especially those things that you move to the “welp, that’s just part of getting old” pile of excuses.

Sorry, that's not good enough for me.
^Setaoc Mass – True Lies [SK11006]^
giphy-2!!!11!11!!!FUCK!!!11!11!!!

I’m supposed to be writing a postcard. Limeys hate postcards, and they hate German postcards even more. So let’s us see what an Okie can come up with for Limeys to hate on.

Hrrrmmmm. 

Where should I start? I KNOW!!! Don’t postcards have like a standard? Like, postcards have to be of a certain exact set of dimensions in order to be qualified as a postcard?

Postcard Sizes

AH AH!!!!!! There’s mention of “Old British Postcard Sizes” on that article. THAT’S where this hate comes from!!! Goddamn Limeys think they have a monopoly on postcards. Buncha uppity fucks. Let’s see if we can find what the history is.

Postcard

Kitsch

Them’s some strong words coming from 1921. Wasn’t the war well over by then? Weren’t England and Germany supposed to be making nice? Being friends? I guess victory is sometimes as bitter a pill as defeat. I know it sure seems to be that way with Brexit. But what’s that bit about German women being plain? I’ve known a few German women, and they sure as shit didn’t seem “plain” to me. So what in the fuck are these knuckleheads talking about?

^deadmau5 / Faxing Berlin (Original Mix) [full version]^

It seems to be the job of Limeys to be grumpy and/or have a generally bad disposition. Germans tend to be be similarly classified. So what in the fuck is going on with this almost 100 year old battle over the postal systems and their products and services?

Kitsch
Kitschy
Kitschiness
Kitschy
Kitsch
Corny
Kitch
Kitchen
Scheiße
Shit
Corn
Peanuts
Peanut
Bantu
Bantu Peoples
Bantu Languages
A6
Grumman A-6 Intruder
Flight Of The Intruder (Novel)
Rhodopsin-Like Receptors
ISO 216
ISO 9000
Shinola

Ah. Basically, this is some kind of North Sea nonsense as to what is/is not, shit. I would imagine that the principle argument that Limeys have would be any subjective annotations that are made on the postcards themselves. Like, a picture postcard of Buckingham Palace, where the accompanying description says something like

“This is the building where the King and/or Queen of England do most of their fucking and shitting.”

Not that anyone would ever do such a thing.
^deadmau5 / Orca [full version]^

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Speaking of the post and postal systems, me and Roob watched this film called Going Postal the other day.

Going Postal

My first introduction to both Terry Pratchet and his Discworld universe. Yeah, Roob quotes him all the time, and I can kinda follow because it’s usually a contextual reference to whatever is being talked about, but I’ve never read any of his stuff before. It was an interesting tale to be sure.

A fun watch. 

Pretty straightforward, with just enough weirdness to make the tale pretty goddamn strange, and leaves a lot to the imagination as to who these players really are. The acting was great, and, it had Charles Dance in it. Did you know that there is a famous TV fisherman over here in the USA called Bill Dance? And yes, we here in the US actually have outdoor shows where we watch people out hunting and fishing.

^Wehbba – Catarse [DC192]^

A certain someone just passed this along.

Which Category Do You Identify/define Yourself?

On a related note, a week or so ago, someone I talk to on Twitter passed this along to me…

Birth Chart

I went through the whole thing, and the best that I could come up with, was they basically called me a queer. Not completely mind you. It said I was about 9/10ths nelly fag, and the remaining 1/10th was, and I quote…

”not completely homo, but still pretty fucking gay”

OK, so, no, it called me none of that. BUT!!! It did say that I was overwhelmingly feminine. I registered like “8” out of 10 on the gaydar. I guess I might take offense to that if I was “a man’s man” or “macho dude” or whatever, but I’m not. Yes, I like to hunt and fish, but I also like to camp…

*No, Clicky, he means with tents and things…*

*/facepalm… Never mind…*

That means I like the whole process. I don’t want to simply catch the fish, I want to clean it, cook it, eat some myself, and maybe have a person or two or more around the table with me. That means I want to make my own coleslaw and hushpuppies…

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*Not a typo, Clicky…/shrugs… I thought hushpuppies were shoes…*

I want to do the dishes afterwards. Dunno why being good in the kitchen makes me queer, but whatever. I can eat well under the right circumstances, and do so with little to no assistance. Prolly will do an entire blog post over at my own place on these astrology results. Might be fun.

Sure is a shitload of data to contemplate.
^Amelie Lens – Drift^

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There was something else I was wanting to talk about, but I can’t recall what it was. Anyway, I’ve already got four posts sitting in my drafts folder over at my own blog, so I guess I’ll go work on those. Hope your week is a good one, and keep an eye on that negligible shit…k? Just be mindful of it. Your body is speaking to you…

listen.

The conversation, is what it is. I guess “that” is, whatever you make of it. And no, I’m not trying to ambiguous, evasive, cryptic or mysterious. Just trying to relate that maybe sometimes the most confusing and incomprehensible of conversations are those that ultimately have the most meaning.

We know, when we know, and not before. 

To relate, do you know what it would sound like if I asked you 100 questions at the same time? And yeah, I mean, 100 different and independent questions, and asked them all at the same time. Would you be able to answer them all in a single answer? Would that single answer encompass 100 independent, specific and succinct answers to my 100 questions?

K, now think about what you are asking of your body at a given time. Like that little pinch we talked about earlier. You wanna know why it is happening? You want answers? Welp, you basically are going to be asking a whole lot of questions of that pinch and your body, and you’re going to do it all at once. The nature of nesting and embedding, and the nature of time and times. Of course, you could just ask for a miracle and be done with it. But whatever you do, that’s your choice.

Good luck.
^Leftwing & Kody – What You Sayin^

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cYacFa

^Gary Beck – Say What (Adam Beyer Remix) [SAVED RECORDS]^

*******

*Well yeah, of course there are Hush Puppy boots, Clicky, but that’s not what Cade meant, either… /shakes head… And get a Song…*

 

Chinese Whispers

abdstreamssmoke

*Adora Belle Dearheart from the last post, Clicky… /lights up… I really did enjoy remote viewing ‘Going Postal’ with Cade this week… /drags…*

‘As is obvious from Moist’s nickname for her, “Spike”, she isn’t that adorable, nor is she a ‘dearheart’.’

abdspikes

*/winces… Okay, okay I’ll get on with it. Sheesh…*

Not sure if you’re aware, Dear Reader, but on the 4th of February, in a couple of days time, the Chinese Year of the (Earth) Dog comes to an end…

… And the Year of the (Earth) Pig begins the very next day…

*Indeed, the female, Earth pig, Clicky… /smokes… Pug to pig, nicely done. A game! My turn… /pats snout…*

‘According to the Chinese Horoscope theory, Female Earth is connected to the farmland. Pig mainly contains Male Water with Male Wood. Male Water is river and Male Wood is tall tree or wooden boat. The sign of 2019 Female Earth Pig year is a river flows over the farmland. It might cause flooding.’

fountainspeak

*/flicks ash… Aha! That’s 2-2… /sucks teeth… Well Lashy does say the Aeon Sophia has a wicked sense of humour… /final drag… *

gpunderdog

*Underdog Anthology VIII: Mo’ Biomass Strip will be out in the spring, Clicky… /stubs butt… I suppose I could write a story about a diamond pig…*

*/gulps… Yikes!*

Enjoy the Chinese New Year festivities this weekend, Dear Reader… And have a Song ❤

*You win, Clicky… /rolls eyes…*

 

 

Adventures in Proof Reading…

I’m spending the day proofreading, Dear Reader. A final read through of Leggy’s novel, ‘Norman’s House’, intended for release next month…

garyk30 calcs on a fagbox

*Aw fanks Clicky… /slides out cigarette… You put Garyk30’s comment on the box? …/flicks lighter… Fink it’s meant to go on the back, luv… /drags… Still it looks miles better than before… /plumes smoke…*

… And I experienced a sync earlier when I stopped to make myself a sammich because I was feeling a bit peckish. Ham, pickled onions and mayo if you must know…

*Royalty? …/squints… Castles…*

roob relates a castle sync on merovee

*/drags… Play the Song, Clicky… /blows smoke rings…*

‘He forgot all about Mandy and Norman as he stared at the expanse of grass. The sun had set behind the surrounding buildings, but there was still enough light to see the garden. All of the grass had been cut, and raked into neat piles. A faint promise of new green showed through the yellow stalks. The patches of shrubbery were still wild, although even they seemed more controlled than they had on his last visit.’

Norman’s House by H.K. Hillman – to be published February 2019

frank posts phoenix cluster to roob sync 31

*/flicks ash… I’d been looking up furty one after seeing GaryK30’s calculation, Clicky… /deep drag… Come to fink of it… /holds smoke… Phenex was in ‘Jessica’s Trap’… /streams smoke… A fantastic read…*

… Royal castles, whispering grass and a rough calculation came together to sync with a gardener in a novel that I’m currently proof reading…

The Thirty-first Spirit is Foras. He is a Mighty President, and appeareth in the Form of a Strong Man in Human Shape. He can give the understanding to Men how they may know the Virtues of all Herbs and Precious Stones. He teacheth the Arts of Logic and Ethics in all their parts. If desired he maketh men invisible, and to live long, and to be eloquent. He can discover Treasures and recover things Lost. He ruleth over 29 Legions of Spirits, and his Seal is this, which wear thou, etc.’

— S. L. MacGregor Mathers (1904)

normans house front cover

*/stubs butt… Coming soon, Clicky. Ooh… /rubs gut… Get a Song, I’m gonna… /farts loudly… That’ll be the pickled onions working…*

Enjoy your weekend, Dear Reader… And have a Song 😉