Something strange happened late last night, Dear Reader. I was scrolling through my YT history, to find something I knew I’d seen, and saw something I’d never seen. A video. This video…
From it’s placement above another video. This video…
… And below this video…
… I’d managed to watch something I have never, ever watched – until I watched it whilst scrolling through my YT history late last night – sometime yesterday daytime. How on earth did I manage to do that?
Anyhoo, hears Part 2 of Cade’s mighty missive that I was remiss in not posting last week. Enjoy! ❤
*******
Did you know that there was a 1.5bn dollar lottery back in October, and the winner just finally came forward to claim the prize?
They were cutting it close
I think you have to claim the prize within like 120 days of the drawing, otherwise, the money gets folded back into the jackpot pool. But can you imagine what it would be like to have someone drop $1,500,000,000 into your lap? That $300,000 house around the corner that you’ve been eyeballing is suddenly possible, but you’ll never buy it. Not now anyway. I mean fuck, the Côte d’Azur is now a possibility.
Financially anyway
Dunno how open the residents of the French Riviera are to South Carolina natives invading their turf, even if they are loaded. Which speaking of, I watched a movie with a certain someone the other day, called ‘Rush’.
The movie was pretty good, and I knew the name Niki Lauda from my childhood, but I’d never seen the flick. Anyway, in a lot of the footage in the film, I recognized many of the tracks. God only knows how many laps I’ve done on those tracks myself. What? You don’t believe me?
I remember watching a race on TV when I was a kid. They showed one of the racers in the pits without his helmet, and the guy didn’t have an ear. Just a nub kinda thing that looked like a shrunken cauliflower ear, and I coulda swore that it was Cale Yarborough.
I was a kid, and it shocked the shit out of me because there were other obvious burn types of scarring, so I asked my dad, who was watching the race with me. I recall him telling me…
“Yeah, he was burned pretty bad in a crash and lost most of his ear.”
Yikes
Now, I was no stranger to crashes nor injuries because I’d been around racing since I was born. I think I recall reading in a Hot Rod Magazine article that “Big Daddy” Don Garlits had lost most or all of his toes on one foot in an accident.
But this was a burn. A burn that resulted in a “disfigurement” that I only previously was unaware as being possible. Not that I was unfamiliar with damn near having my ear ripped off by an angry adult, nor am I any stranger to burns either, but seeing Lauda’s ear in the movie brought back memories of seeing that race as a kid and the image of some dude with his ear burned off.
I don’t know why I always associated that ear with Cale Yarborough. I have no idea if Yarborough ever lost an ear. Maybe it was Lauda, but why would I be associating a NASCAR driver with an F1 driver’s injury? God only knows how much racing I consumed as a kid via magazines, TV, and being at the track every Friday night, Saturday night, and sometimes Sunday afternoons. But what in the fuck would Niki Lauda be doing at a stock car race sometime in the 1970s? Andretti is the only F1 driver I know of that ever was around stock cars until recent times.
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’…
*/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! ❤
*******
Ya gotta look and play the part.
Ever wonder why anti-smoking hides behind the rhetoric of anti-big corporations and healthism rather than openly state their moral intolerance of the 'uneducated' and 'dirty' working class? No? Yeh well its a bit too obvious. pic.twitter.com/aH0XVbEpU7
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.
Venezuela #PDVSA workers of state controlled oil giant protest over unpaid wages. Maduro answers with state police. Tic Toc…. pic.twitter.com/QBz3MY6lkb
Others may show “they mean business” by comporting themselves in other ways.
28/28 #Best#RoyalFamily Moments of 2018 – The Duke & Duchess of Cambridge Meet the Swedish Royal Family – On a four-day royal tour of Sweden and Norway, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge met their Swedish counterparts, Princess Victoria and Prince Daniel. pic.twitter.com/6XFw4IiuTe
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)^
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.
…so I am really happy to be able to take a break, and present a brand new missive from Cade Fon Apollyon, the Okie Devil, for your delectation…
*Yeah, I don’t think living in Text US automatically makes him a cowboy, Clicky…*
*******
I need all of you to line up in a non-quiet and disorderly fashion.
I just wanna see what kind of line forms out of ordered chaos.
Yes…I’m ordering you…to be chaotic.
GO!!!
CHOP CHOP!!! I ain't got all day.
^Netsh – sleep.exe [ARTS037]^
People sometimes talk as if fate is some kind of cakewalk. Just kick back, and it’ll come your way since it is preordained. The thing is, that you can typically only see synchs backwards.
A – You experience an odd coincidence.
B – As a result of the odd coincidence, you go left instead of right at the next intersection.
C – Godzilla attacks the video store you were headed to had you turned right instead of left, and everyone in the store dies.
D – You do not die, hence, the Universe signaled you at “A”, you listened, all is right with the world.
('cept for the dead people of course)
You are viewing all that shit backwards, not forwards. You had no idea any of that nonsense was going to happen, but it did, and you’ve got a marker to hang on to…
the synch.
But you may want to consider that had you turned right and continued your jaunt to the video store, that’s no guarantee that you would have died, nor anyone else for that matter. Perhaps if you had turned right, Godzilla would have diverted his/her wrath on the vape shop instead of the video store. Maybe all this “synch” and “sync” nonsense is sometimes just a certain level of awareness at certain points in time. You are part of this crazy nonsense afterall. I’m sure The Universe is just as concerned about you as they are anyone else. With that in mind…
Q: Are you concerned about The Universe?
A: ¿?
Of course, when this “preordained” destiny of yours doesn’t come your way, or doesn’t come in the way that it was preordained, you are likely to take matters into your own hands and start chasing this destiny that was supposed to fall into your lap at some point.
Don’t sweat it tho.
Prolly just a scheduling error.
Time and times can be funky sometimes.
^E-Z Rollers – Tough At The Top^
Cade: Yes, I know…there is a discrepancy.
X: And what would that discrepancy be?
Cade: You.
X: Me?
Cade: Well, no…I mean the participant.
T: Think you can clarify? You’re giving me a headache.
Cade: You, as in the participant in a “sync” experience as it happens.
Z: But you have to explain it to others, backwards. Is that what you are trying to say?
Cade: Yes. You experience it forwards, you reflect on it internally in a simultaneous forwards/backwards way…
0: But have to share the experience with others backwards, we get it. But why didn’t you just say that in the first place?
Cade: A job worth doing is worth doing right?
X: …
Cade: OK, so, I don’t like editing what I write.
X: And why would that be?
Cade: Because it leaves a bunch of shit out. Important shit.
X: The stumbling and bumbling…mistakes and the like.
Cade: Correct. It turns what could be a dialogue…
B: Into a one-way conversation. A statement. A speech. A diatribe.
Cade: A mother-fucking monologue.
X: And these, uh, “monologues” that you mention, they are bad?
Cade: They certainly seem apt to leave you standing alone.
0: And what exactly is wrong with being alone pray tell?
Cade: Nothing. If that’s where you want to be.
X: Where are we?
Cade: Here.
X: And where do we want to be?
Cade: Here.
X: And where is that?
Cade: Here.
X: That’s where you’ll always be.
Cade: I know that anyone reading this will unlikely pick up on the vibe that I’m feeling based on your thought/statement, but there’s a weird simultaneousness to the thought of “still being where I’ve been, as well as I’m already at where I’ve yet to be, all while I am where I am.”
X: Destiny.
Cade: Something like that.
0: Woah woah woah…what do you mean “something like that”?
Cade: The past is many times just as fuzzy as the future, and sometimes the present is fuzzier still.
Z: Care to elaborate?
Cade: Trying to explain something that has happened and/or is happening, to someone else who has no reference points, nor baselines except for what I tell them. Dunno about you, but that’s pretty fucking fuzzy to me.
Z: Any examples?
Cade: Now.
Z: If you’ll expand on that, I’ll listen.
Cade: Fair enough. I was thinking about JAL Flight 123, and the movie ‘Unbreakable’. However, while thinking about those examples, I decided that they were both impertinent.
Z: Impertinent in any all contexts and by all definitions?
Cade: Yes. They are both similar, not same.
Z: But those examples are both poignant and relatable, and based in both fact and fiction.
Cade: The fantastic. I shouldn’t have to use some fantastic or incredible anecdotal evidence completely unrelated to me in order to tell my own story.
Z: What if it helps?
Cade: What if it hurts?
Z: Touché. But where does the listener/reader come in?
Cade: I think that a lot of times, using “the distant” distances us even further.
Z: I could use a bit of expansion on that thought.
0: Join the club.
X: You are thinking both “god(s)” and “religion” there aren’t you.
Cade: Yes. You’ve got these secretive clicks that strive to keep their shit hidden. Participation seems to distance us even further.
X: Maybe that’s a construct that drives how The Universe keeps expanding. Ever think of that?
Cade: You coulda just said “get away from me”, but yes, I do think about that. I think about it all the time.
B: And is that why that line from Star Trek Beyond hit you so hard?
Cade: Yes. Chasing something that is forever out of reach.
B: Basically, chasing something that isn’t there.
Cade: The unreachable is just as much there as anything else.
T: Just, unreachable?
Cade: I can’t be what I am not. And, I’m pretty happy with who I am.
Z: Took you a while to get there tho.
Cade: So what? I’m here.
Z: Now what?
Cade: /me shrugs…dunno.
Z: …
Cade: Look, I’m not fond of editing my “as I go” bullshit because I feel that it creates a false impression.
Z: What type of impression are you trying to create?
Cade: That’s a good question. One I can’t really answer other than say that I stumbled around for decades trying to say all the right shit, and it never felt right.
Z: Once you start in one direction, forces work to keep you in that same direction.
Cade: Yes. No room for fuckups. No room for controversy. No room for anything other than this implied perfection that results from peer approval(s).
Z: You’re only as good as they say you are?
Cade: That’s how I fucked up in music. I shoulda just kept making my music, my way instead of judging everything I did based on whether or not people liked it/approved of it.
Z: Wasn’t that the point though? To make a living making music?
Cade: It shouldn’t have been. I enjoyed the hell out of making music, I had a “normal” job I loved, what more do you need?
Z: It didn’t happen that way tho, did it.
Cade: No. I was very unhappy in a lot of ways. The job I had was great, but didn’t pay well, I was working overtime all the time just to pay the bills, and the job was becoming unstable because of all the changes going on in the airline industry.
Z: Are you really going to sit here and rant on and on for another page or so?
Cade: Not here. Not in this fashion. Thanks for the heads-up.
Z: No problem.
Cade: …
^deadmau5 – Closer (Cover Art)^
Do you have a detractor in your life?
‘There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death.’
– Proverbs 14:12
I just sometimes wonder… You’re sailing along, everything is great, everything you are doing seems exactly correct, you are bubbling with pride at being all great and awesome and stuff, then suddenly….
BLAM!!!
The Universe broadsides the living fuck out of you with some crazy nonsense that you never saw coming, nor would you ever have seen coming. So my question to you is…
do you have a detractor in your life?
Someone who reminds you what a complete fuckhead you can be when the cameras aren’t on, or the crowds have all gone home? That you are mortal. That you are fallible. Not suggesting that you need a lackey that does nothing but call you names and make fun of you, but someone that speaks their mind without fear of reprisal. More than that, someone that you listen to. Someone you don’t try and dominate. Someone that is neither disposable nor indispensable. Someone who is there because they choose to be, and someone that you want around because they want to be around. An equal, and potentially an equal that is far above you in many ways.
I'm lucky like that.
^Closer – Nine Inch Nails (with lyrics)^
It’s weird the things that suddenly materialize in your life.
Things that you saw, you remember, but remember kinda wrong.
Then suddenly…what you were looking for but couldn’t find…appears outta nowhere.
There’s no doubt that this is the one.
Or maybe there is doubt.
Pretty sure this is the one tho.
^MIRROR: The King of Love is a Dead Man^
I recently had some fuck named Neil Gaiman wander into my life and crush the shit out of all my hopes and dreams. I’ve had some time to reflect on the powdered remains mixed with many a crocodile tear, and I guess it’s more of a fact that I’ve had to reevaluate a lot of things that I’m working on. So in effect, the guy has helped sharpen my focus.
THANKS DICKHEAD!!! 😛
Powdered dreams + crocodile tears makes for some good clay.
Here's hoping anyway.
^Kings of Leon – Closer (HQ)^
I’d read his book ‘Sandman’ a few years ago. Or at least, the first one. Anway, not long ago, Roob suggested a movie called ‘Stardust’ that is based on some book by Neil Gaiman. Watched the movie, and it was really good, but there were some themes in there that really crushed the shit out of me because they were similar in nature to some of the themes in some story ideas that I’ve had.
My stories are different, but the similarities of some of the things gave me pause. Flash forward a few weeks, and Roob suggests a series called ‘American Gods’ by this same dude, Neil Gaiman. Watched it, same deal. Lots of similar themes.
WTF?!?!?
Gotta keep in mind that I’m new to writing, I’m smart enough to know that there’s only so much in the world to write about, and it’s a pretty goddamn big world. I can’t know it all. I only have my experiences, my stories, and that’s all I have/all I’ll ever have. So now, I’m right back to that phase of…
Q: Do I need to read everything ever written in order to come up with something unique and original?
A: No.
I’ve been through something similar with music. Just write your music, and it is what it is.
WHEW!!!
Thanks for the education Neil.
❤
^Charlotte de Witte – Closer (Original Mix)^
So back on this sink/sync shit – who manufactures it/them? It’s your sink, you are going to use it, and what are sinks for? Washing up? HA!!! I KNEW IT!!! Yer FUCKED!!! You’re washed up.
Digress.
Sinks, as far as I know anyway, are for channeling/funneling water in and out of your home/business or whatever in an orderly and convenient fashion. It’s with that in mind, let’s us chase that/those water(s).
^Aphrodite superman jungle rmx^
There’s likely a lake or river or aquifer or some other combination of water tables that some group has connected to, and they’ve created an infrastructure of pipes and pumps and valves and monitoring systems to distribute these waters. These pipes and pumps pull and push these waters to a tap that is conveniently located near your personal proximity, and you can turn your tap(s) on and off at will to get the waters you need, when you need them. Also, there is a drainage system that allows these waters to flow on, and continue their journey after you’ve gotten what you need out of them.
Sewage/waste waters will flow away from you, where they’ll go to any number of various places via various methods, and various things will be done to these waters to possibly even return them to you at some later time. In effect, and even tho these waters are quite voluminous and expansive themselves, the bits in time that you get these waters are actually quite short in both duration and amount(s). You see/use/interact with them for only a short duration.
Filling a glass.
Rinsing a dish.
Washing your hands.
Taking a dump or peeing
Taking a bath of shower
Watering the yard or plants.
Blips on the radar screen. Odd when you think that it’s estimated that 2/3’s of our planet is said to be covered in water, and 90% of the world’s freshwater is said to be frozen in some really remote place at the South Pole. So with respect to “syncs” or synchronicities, are they any really different than what goes on in our sinks?
How much thought do you give to your water usage outside of the bill that comes due each month? Maybe this is why synchronicity is such a jarring concept. They are jarring when they happen, and they are equally jarring when they no longer happen. To relate, when the water is off because of some malfunction at the pumping station, or a broken water main, you fucking well know it eh? Your whole life is instantly turned upside down because when you turn the spigot, nothing happens. What you need…
just ain't there.
^Wicked Wicked Jungle Is Massive (Ali G Indahouse)^
Just thinking aloud that maybe being aware or being enlightened or whatever, is much more than strutting around with a mysterious and glowy Möbius strip/infinity symbol hovering above your head. The concept of ascension is great. But where’s the love for descent? How are you to handle adversity if you have an aversion to anything but up, and someone or something pulls that rug out from under you?
Meh fuckit...you'll figure it out.
^DJ Aphrodite – Acid to the sound^
BTW, is that water in your sink order, or chaos?
^when the milk hits the cereal wrong^
Not trying to sway any opinions as to what is order/chaos, just interested in your thoughts on the subject. I mean, that bullshit above looks like complete chaos at some point right? Well, if you take a moment to consider the simulation that allowed for the ordering of that chaos in a structured and coherent fashion?
*Actually, it’s pronounced more like ‘Guyman’, Clicky… /pats snout… Butt nice try…*
We hope you enjoyed that, Dear Reader. I’m now going to get back to my scribbling, but hope to be back later in the week with a new LoL post. Until then… Have a Song 😀
‘Images of the ‘Empire’ actor have been inserted into ads for ‘Black Panther,’ ‘Green Book’ and ‘BlacKkKlansman,’ while an HBO billboard was hijacked for the second time in a month.
‘Two separate groups of conservative provocateurs took their fight against what they call the media’s “Trump Derangement Syndrome” to the streets of Los Angeles early Monday morning, posting phony entertainment ads all over the county.
‘Of the more ambitious efforts, an entire billboard advertising HBO’s Last Week Tonight With John Oliver was hijacked so that now the title is: “The Orange Man Bad Show With John Oliver.”
‘The giant billboard at the corner of La Cienega Boulevard and Pico Boulevard has an image of Oliver with a thought bubble cursing the Trump presidency and including the words “racists” and “bigots.” At the bottom of the altered ad is the phrase, “Matrix approved NPC programming.”
‘The endeavor is the second in a series for a secretive group known as The Faction, which in January took over a billboard advertising Real Time With Bill Maher, also an HBO show. Both times, The Faction used “NPC” to belittle the comedians as “non playable characters,” a video game term that has become a conservative meme for media personalities who allegedly work harder at advancing a politically correct narrative than the truth.’
… So I looked up the word ‘La Cienega…
*/lights up… The road is literally named for Rancho Las Cienegas,”The Ranch Of The Swamps”, Clicky…*
… And then looked up the word ‘Pico’…
Dear Reader, the billboard is literally on the corner of ‘Peak Swamp’…
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.
@KamalaHarris with "uhhhhhhh" in response to question about #SmollettHoax? She also parrots @CoryBooker on the shift to "facts unfolding" & thus appears to suddenly want "reserve judgment" now that facts don't fit her divisive narrative that Trump & his supporters are racist. pic.twitter.com/SaO0kBkRt1
*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…*
Jussie Smollett didn't just claim he was attacked by 2 white attackers in MAGA hats who poured bleach on him and put him in a noose, he also claimed he was sent a homophobic letter containing white powder a few days before the attack. pic.twitter.com/8axvypz4kJ
*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…*
*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…*
*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 😀
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…*
… As far as I know, Albert Finney was a kindly man: he sent an exquisite flower arrangement and warm words to my parent’s home in 1993 when my dad, Bob, died. Although he only knew the actor through the service he’d provided him – chauffeur driven cars – Bob and Finney had apparently struck up a warm, working relationship. Dad never mentioned this to us though, so when the illustrious Finney’s flowers arrived two days before the funeral, it came as a pleasant shock during a time of deep grief…
*/lights up… Okay, Clicky, I see your ‘Ocean’ connection there… /drags... But the Billy Ocean Song was from ‘Jewel of the Nile’, not romancing El Corazón… /streams smoke… And Albert Finney appeared in neither flick, Click… *
*Oceans are full of ‘finney’ creatures… /rolls eyes… Trust a fuckin’ dolphin to spot that… /drags…*
*I can’t believe I sat through over two hours of that movie for less than a minute of Albert Finney… /blows smoke rings… playing Mrs Michael Douglas’ father… /flicks ash…*
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^
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.
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^
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?
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.
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]^
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]^
!!!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?
AH AH!!!!!! There’s mention of “Old British Postcard Sizes” on that article. THAT’Swhere 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.
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?
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]^
Speaking of the post and postal systems, me and Roob watched this film called Going Postal the other day.
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.
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…
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…
*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^
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.
‘In an unusual warning, doctors have reported the case of a man who injected cocaine into his urethra to heighten sexual pleasure and then, through ”extravagant complications,” suffered gangrene that led to the loss of both legs, nine fingers and his penis.‘
*I know! …/plays with lighter… Hugo brought the Max Headroom Doctor Who incident to my attention ages ago…*
*/flicks ash… One of Cade’s earlier blog efforts, Clicky… /drags… *
… Then on Saturday morning, Dear Reader, I read a hilarious post about a ‘slush pile’…
Library of Libraries 