From cmcjp02@americasm01.nt.com Mon Dec 28 02:57:01 1998

Newsgroups: alt.slack

Subject: Slack Pack 14 Index COMPLETE

From: "Rev. Random the Other" <cmcjp02@americasm01.nt.com>

Date: Mon, 28 Dec 1998 05:57:01 -0500

 

Our crutch is designed to get you out of that wheelchair and walking

again, until you start to pick up some speed and the WHAMMO! you find

yourself falling flat on your face! I am NOT a pervert. I'm a

SubGenius. That makes me a subvert. Some people have all the opinions.

They should be healed by a laying upon of bricks. Many of us DON'T

endorse slavery...of anyone except MACHINES DESIGNED TO ENJOY IT. We

should be EMBRACING the outcasts of society, especially the ones with

LOTS OF GUNS. We are selling this planet to aliens who are going to

maximize the pain and suffering of its Pink inhabitants for CENTURIES,

so they can enjoy a HARVEST OF AGONY. All so we can go cruising off in

our fur-lined Flying Saucers and Slack Off. What would their pathetic

lives be worth if they didn't have their oppressors to scourge them,

and relieve them from the pangs of their conscious? We give them the

only HAPPINESS heir pathetic pink flesh will EVER KNOW! I ask you,

IS THAT EVIL?More to the point, is it AESTHETICALLY DISPLEASING?

In this ideal world, hats would fit. And I would get to decide who

lives and who dies. And of course, I accidentally shoveled snow onto

her head. Seventy miles per into the brick wall of mirth.

 

To this day, the only murder that I can remember in my childhood town

is the murder of Holly Branagan. All-Star Banquet! We Are Immortal!

Distended bloodvessels in temples with frenzied sputtering. The world

is ending in July and I, born kissing August, shall never see

twenty-three. PUTTY ALL YOUR HOLES SHUT FOR JESUS! It's like we're

dancing around on the street because we've found a half-eaten candy bar

while they're watching us from inside a GIANT LIVE-IN CANDY STORE

that's WIDE OPEN and UNGUARDED! By the way, you should hear "Bob" with

a French accent. It kind of sounds like a sound a frog would make.

Finals were invented by a Rogue. They must have been--no one other than

a Rogue would have been able to generate that great a Slack vacuum over

that large an area. Sure, he's talked about how much of a loose liberal

feel-good hippie he is while condemning some so-called "evil empire," a

Conspiracy of Normals and Pinks who participate in practices which he

finds offensive, even though some of these practices include making

business promises that they actually wind up keeping, like subscriptions

to magazines that don't exist. Did not the floundering fathers forsee a

day when obfuscation and verbal superciliation would be called on the

carpet and conjectured, the entire process being fraught with peril for

any freely-functioning system of intercoursing drivel? Well, you can

roll over for the intrusive but well-meant huffing of a greasy and

dangerous minority, but I'll have no part of it. The funny part is that

MR. WIZARD tried to tell him what real magic is...but it's too late,

and he's all MESSED UP now, and has lost perspective, and the only

times it seems to return are when he sees the miracle on the faces of

his children, or in his wife's eyes.

 

This Church was built on hypocrisy, and we're all hypocrites in our

faith for "Bob". Brutalizing the servants is a mark of a weak and

cowardly man. It's tired crap written by unimaginative jerks when they

can't think of a way to attack a person for the content of his or her

message(s). I'm not suggesting that we're all intellectual racists, I'm

saying that we're all INSTINCTUAL racists. A bunch of drunken, loud

Japanese businessmen with bic pens in their pockets fanning out in a

convenience store... I'll tell you what I intend to do about it.

Nothing. And I would win by a mile, cause there are winners and

losers, at least on a personal level, and sometimes winning means

refusing to give a shit and getting fired and being glad, even as you

hate yourself for not giving in this one time when you really needed

the money. A little bit of pain can be useful and stimulating. I

certainly didn't pay for a barrage of insults designed to make me

feel inferior to anyone, in particular a bunch of misfits like

myself. If you can't make it here, don't even DREAM about Dobbstown.

"Bob" will keep you from being successful long enough to appreciate

that you are a success. Ah yes, down to stems and seeds and paranoia

twaaang.

 

"As far as I know we have never charged any (Amish) with drug

crimes." Bennett Cerf will haunt you. Oh the agony you'll suffer! The

pangs of anguish you'll thrust upon yourself! And O, how you'll look

back and laugh at it all in a few years. Yes folks, I am laughing.

Yeah, me too. This is PRECIOUS. "So can I just whisper "duh" instead?

Really quietly?"

 

"VIRTUAL BIGAMY!!!" Perhaps I should invest in a chainsaw. The dead

will be there, just walking around like nothing was wrong, every

excuse is invalid. Please, my friends, return to the Slack which was

meant to be. It was never supposed to be an organized effort for

proselytizing the world. It was only to be a sort of personal journey

for each of you. Keep a stiff upper chin. I've got no problem parting

a fool and his cash. In fact I applaud the Church for fleecing most

of these assholes, because it keeps them from buying power directly.

"Bob" Dobbs will fuck their rears, their bright pink butts will soon

be hurtin'.

 

I decided it must be my magazine, and stole it off the rack. Inside,

I found lots about skateboards which really didn't apply to me, but

there was an article about this bizarre religious cult...yay! I am a

really good person and uh...I'm, let's see, I'm uh...members of the

Los Angeles Cacophone society gathered in my backyard to gut several

dozen plush toys and replace their innards with Portland's finest.

You hear alot about people saying they "scored" last night. Who's

winning? It's not supposed to be a mystery. You don't get surprised

at the end any more than when you ride a roller-coaster or go to

church. Has anyone sent YOU thirty dollars yet? Did you peek

beneath her skirt? Whatever slop bloats yout shoat. Go ahead and

stuff that turkey. REAL HARD.

 

But the rants that Ivan gives you really make your brain-pan shrink.

And the pinks began to howl. Wake up Pinkie I think I've got

something to say to you. When the Devival's over, Kill the

Pinks. STROKE your SICK FUCK MADNESS and raise it high for us all to

ADMIRE. It's your STRENGTH and your JOY and without it the Slack

Particles of SubReality will flow AROUND and never TOUCH you! We

adopt what we call possum hours in the summertime. Get DOWN in that

funky water. Get NACH-UR-ALL.The CON tells you that it's safer with

street lights, but doesn't mention that Slack of walking out to the

compost pile on a dark night, unable to see six inches in front of

yourself. Ted Kaczynski mails a few bombs and is considered a

dangerous criminal; the fact that he lives without electricity or

water makes him CRAZY. I want some bagpipes. Do they make electric

ones? With a fuzz pedal, maybe? Maybe you can even shrug off having

to let the livestock die or whatever. I got tape decks and computers

and keyboards and radios and TVs to tend! I never questioned their

motives, you know one person's dog ass is another mans heat source.

Going without is easy, getting too much all at once is a pain in the

ass. I love her, I need her, she's all mine.

 

I don't know what scares me more, the bagpipes or the idea of a solar

powered cowboy hat. During ze fifz year, ze unesesary "o" kan be

dropd from vords kontaining "ou", and similar changs vud of kors be

aplid to ozer kombinations of letrs.

 

The Po'bucker Subs, mostly unsaved, will remain after X-Day to keep

the Slack-fires burning (along with the ovens...) I fear simplicity.

The THOUGHTS, MAN! THE THOUGHTS! More important things to think about

than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with

whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. She was stoned 15

of her 18 years, and her story widely told. Bob rest ye hairy

Yetinsyn. The Hebrews spent 40 years wandering in the desert after

they got OUT of Egypt, Jesus spent 40 days in the desert being

tempted by the devil before he could get IN to his three year rant.

And now it is time for the children of "Bob" to move into our Great

Tribulation. A whole lot of that awful behavior I did before I was

even 20. But what's a little extra horrifying for me is, SOME of it I

went through while I was PUSHING KIDS in STROLLERS through Disney

World or the Texas State Fair. Take this Slack and shove it. Forged

from a glistening green vein of h8red, tempered with virgin white

intolerance, and cooled in the cathode eyes of my tv dad, I wield the

mighty sword of idiocentricism. Combat experience is different when

you feel like you have no control, no resolution, no hope of making

any difference. I have never heard as many AIDS jokes as I do in the

AIDS wards of hospitals. The fewer people you care about, and the

less you care about them, the less you suffer when they're

gone--BUT--the fewer you care for, and the less you care, the less it

all means.

 

Earlier that day, some friends and I..., well, we went dumpster

diving at Fermilab...and scored a WHOLE LOT of really SMART-LOOKING

STUFF. In a world of turmoil and twisted images, it is about time to

find a standpoint. Some choose this standpoint in the business of

money, but in the long run, this is not a good idea. They are

controling your life. Now I have come to a point, and I am not going

to tell you that "Bob" will open up your eyes, I am just telling you

to stand against this control. If you look to me then you'll be

lighted! I'm doing light at ya! For the record: I do NOT want to

bring humans along as slaves on the saucers. There will already be

enough Bobbies underfoot for such menial chores as I may require of

them for my own amusement. I want to enslave humans RIGHT HERE AND

NOW and then KILL THEM ALL just as I leave.

 

The Devival had been winding down great until the guys with the guns

showed up. I mean, some people will interpret every single thing you

do as a sign--I'm not the fuckin' messiah, people. Maybe that's why

so many kids have these totally fucked-up relationships with their

fathers...at age five, they saw the startling contrast of dad's HUGE

SPIRE, to their own toodly tadpole. Pinks are a majority and they

love McDonalds "food" (billions sold), they love titilation without

the uncertainty and fear of real sexhurt. The mate was a small grey

alien, the skipper's name was "Bob". Religion has been around for a

long time. That doesn't make it any more inherent in the human psyche

than the fact that we've been wearing furs on our bodies makes the

wearing of animal skins inherent.

 

The Egg-and Ham-ulator starts! You left out senseless violence. She

became a Christian, which diminished her attractiveness considerably,

needless to say. Just goes to show, no matter how Sub someone might

seem, you just can't trust pinks. Shouting "BORK BORK BORK when I

drop something in the kitchen. Dear Vacuity...in summary then,

duh. Looks like your salvation is being offered as a LOSS-LEADER. I

think he gave her a hickey or a ring or pissed on her later. Doesn't

matter which, he was just marking territory.

 

A geological joke: the tights come down as the mites go up. If you

think both parties are equally bad, you can't calculate rates of

descent. And remember, invest in the future...buy US Enslaving Bonds.

I also won't try and convince you that the moon is made of

transmission fluid. THINKING leads to confusion, not blind ignorance!

ANATHEMA EMERITUS. Where no home is made for the empty it will carve a

place for itself in your favorite life. You're always eating before

the rest of us even sit down at the table. They strum a jottle, and

drang a tittle, but they don't cha-cha, and they don't play the

fiddle. Huge camel fleeing live Nativity scene killed on Route 50.

There was a hole in the center. The militia movement in America is

poetic justice at it's finest. How many year's subscriptions of

insecurity could you sell with THAT message? I don't find men

interesting, I find the things they find interesting interesting, if

that makes sense.

 

That was JESUS'S responsibility, to keep track of the membership list!

And it was snowing then, too, except that every snowflake was exactly

alike, and every snowflake had the shape of...

 

Picture the money flowing into your nostrils and into your lungs,

traveling into your aveoli and into your very blood stream, so that

with each beat of heart your blood becomes a darker green. But then

Jesus came over from the lunch room and put his hands on the computer

and said "Data come forth!" and when I booted it up everything was

back like before. Except that now I had Microsoft Publisher. Stick

this circuit tester under your motherboard. Lemme listen to your

databus.

 

Four years ago I didn't have a girlfriend, and then I found "Bob". Now

I haven't worn a tie in four years, I save lives every day, and I'm in

love. Fuck "Bob." "Bob" never did nothing for me but lead me into

trouble or deliver me from good stuff. If you want my faith, you better

fucking show me a miracle. NOW. "oh boy, nuclear winter, let's go into

the shelters and play charades" You may have pulled the WOOL over your

OWN eyes, BUT THE WOOL WAS PRODUCED BY CHINESE SLAVE LABOR RUN BY THE

"CON". For myself, all I can say is that I made love to someone today,

like I've done to many other someones. I didn't hit her...

 

Does the horror, the blasphemy, the bullshit, the selfishness, and the

ludicrousness of parts of the Church remain as an impediment towards

greater spirituality? 1st-Grader Busted for Lemon Drops. I don't care!

I don't care SO MUCH that I will go ON AND FUCKING ON about how much I

don't care! See, when you try to do the ANGRY indignant Christian act,

you just come across as a pathetic asswipe. These days I find I'm most

happy, if that is the word for it, if a day goes by and NOTHING

happens. I just LOVE writing "I love you, "Bob" on the memo line.

SubGeniuses: Liars every one of them to a man. if only there were more

love. Hah! People don't have the faintest idea what to do with the love

they HAVE and you want MORE of it?

 

So what makes Subgenii happy?

Drugs are Cool.

Women and bubblebaths.

I used to have the same problem you did--then I started sending 10%

of my earnings to "Bob" at the SubGenius Foundation (PO Box 140306,

Dallas, TX 75214.

> Ten percent of my paycheck wouldn't cover the stamp.

Buy cheaper stamps.

Every thirteen seconds, a woman has a baby. Our job is to find this

woman and stop her. It's called depression. I am not a doctor, or even

a keen observer of behavior, but I get the impression that it's common

among Subs. Antidepressants make a fine motivator in this case, while

not dulling the virulent cynicism that marks the SubGenius.

Depression is a result of the SubGenius' instinctive repulsion of

False Slack, and is best cured when Slack is located. OF COURSE it's

hard as hell to be different. THAT'S WHY OUR LIVES ARE WORTH LIVING,

AND THEIR LIVES AREN'T. Inner demons are a big fucking pain, and most

SubGenii struggle every day, every hour, some every second, to keep

those demons in their proper place. We are trying to live as

individuals in a world whose every detail is designed to make us give

up our individuality. The inner turmoil is THE ONLY WAY WE KNOW THAT WE

HAVEN'T LOST YET. Around here, the only treatment for depression is

"CHEER THE FUCK UP". Depression is also the womb of creativity. If

everyone is depressed or prone to anxiety attacks, then so am I. I can

hide in plain sight that way. When the Con can't hold you to slave to a

death delivering job, when it can't force you into brainmelt in front

of the tube, when it senses intellect AND compassion, it sells you on

the sad, sad story that because misery exists anywhere in the world,

none of us can be truly happy. Since my parents denied it to me, the

only way I can get back (my Slack) is to make sure my kid has as little

of it as I can afford. Besides, plenty of us get busloads of Slack

bitching over the fact that OUR government uses OUR money to slaughter

people in the third world, the kind of Slack that comes from seeing

through CON facades, piercing the smoke and mirrors. Depression is a

real illness and has nothing to do with pathetic whiners who have their

health, enough cash to satisfy more than their basic needs and have the

ability to make any changes in their life they want to IF THEY HAVE THE

BOLLOCKS! but you're at least looking for answers, which is an

improvement over most folks, who don't even bother looking for

anything. The Church hasn't changed my likes--that's not what the

Church does; it just allows you to feel justified in who you are.

That's what the Divine Excuse is all about. I've quit expecting

helpful answers from the net and the Church of the Subgenius. The

funny thing is how sometimes you get them anyway..but only if you're

not expecting them. No, it's crotch warmth most likely.

 

 

Love says you have to love everybody. I just hate to see "love"

cheapened this way. I'm gonna stick with fear. Buddy, you SURE picked

the wrong religion. Only the jaded deserve to be raped. He has no

problem that 7000 hours of interrogation by fascist cop monsters,

with his balls in an electrified vice-grip, wouldn't fix. If I wanna

LOVE, then betcha by golly wow, I'm gonna just go and LOVE!!1!

Get that? And if it gives me Slack, you can all cram it up sideways, cuz I

AIN'T GIVIN' NONE OF IT BACK. "It is bitter--bitter," he answered;

"but I like it because it is bitter and because it is my heart."

Unfortunately, the HATE stuff might give more than a few SubGenii a

"rationale" for holding on to their internal fear and hate far more

than is good for them. I hate 'em all, from the PBS programming

managers with hemp backpacks and soft eyes to the utility sport

driving lawyers and MBA's who turned into what they were supposed to

change. The man hated such things as advertising and ignorance ONLY

BECAUSE he loved so much. I KNOW how easy it is to get all romantic

about love and think it would be just so swell and peachy to love the

shit out of even the most shitful bastards and bastardesses, and then

FAIL OVER AND OVER AGAIN TO KEEP FROM HATING THEM AND PLAYING THAT

RAPE-MURDER FANTASY MOVIE OVER AND OVER IN YOUR HEAD. The best haters

are calm, rational, friendly people who are nice to all their friends

and, should you fuck with them, will kill you before you get to the

door. I don't think that letting your Slack get sucked is anything to

cause self-flaggellation. Getting taken and KNOWING you got taken is

all about RESPONSIBILITY--responsibility to YOURSELF. To take your

own personal problems--your self-hatred--and blame it on the world,

when it's not really the cause (sometimes it is, but quite often it

isn't) isn't practicing good hate, IMO. That's what I would call

False Hate, if you hate yourself not because of the Conspiracy's

fucked-up and utterly bizarre expectations for those who live under

its rule, but because of your OWN fucked-up expectations.

On a precept well spoken: hate purely that which deserves your

hate, exterminate the subject of your hate with your hate, then go

off and do what gives you Slack. I notice MereHumes the same way an

old rogue elephant might get annoyed at the vast herd of wildebeest

crapping all over the Serengeti--but HATE? What would be the point?

You couldn't kill enough of them to matter, and anyway their corpses

would be EVEN WORSE than the crap. I'm growing a taste for hate,

because it beats the hell out of self-loathing to put the blame where

it so often should be--OVER THERE. Hate Thy Neighbor NOT Thyself.

Man, mushrooms are great.

 

You could have just shot the other cat through the head and ducttaped

some rubber nuts to your "little pussy". How can he find his true Yeti

mate if he hides himself behind some false facade? HEY Some of my BEST

FUCKS were nincompoops. Just the same, as long as there is a core of

genuine feeling to it all, as long as you stay with a person because

you WANT to, as opposed to doing so because you fear the alternatives,

as long as you miss a person when he or she is not there, and are glad

to see them when they reappear, are comfortable with spending the rest

of your life with them and passing whatever shots you may or may not

have for some horizontal gratification with others just for that

privilege, then I guess love is a good a term as any to aply to what

you feel. Why isn't there a SubSite for young Bobbies who want to date

other Bobbies? Fairy tale romances are a RILLY EFFECTIVE survival hoax.

maybe the problem with love is that we are told what love is by all the

wrong people, and just expected to watch and learn by all the right.

You know, there's a wonderful little device for your car called the

"Auto-Suck", available at finer adult bookstores everywhere.

 

There's just something completely wrong with rats. As I've said before,

I can't have much respect for a critter that goes to all sorts of

trouble to find a nice, secure, dry place to make a nest, fills it with

soft, fluffy stuff, then SHITS and PISSES all over it. Guess that's

sorta why I don't have much respect for people. They do the same thing,

at least figuratively.

 

Face facts. If you're a SubGenius, then by definition you oppose the

CON. So either oppose it or shut the hell up. Get off it for once, and

get back to whining about how the government is not pouring enough

money down a rathole to help losers and bitching about the rich

bastards and corporate irresponsibility and mailing off part of your

barbeque sauce budget to buy wigs for South American peasant girls that

have to sell their hair for wigs, etc. Rap music once expressed rage,

now it sells fast food. The launching of the head of the world cup

golfer, the prairy squids, the killing of "Bob"- all are fundamentally

absurd rituals that nevertheless serve IMPORTANT ECCLESIASTICAL

FUNCTIONS. We ARE part of the Conspiracy, and always were - but we are

the part that YOU NEED. In those moments of greatest regret, when you

feel utterly abandoned and lost, when you cry out "Why?" with your last

breath, hatred will be there for you, giving you strength, making sure

you never forget.

 

Welcome to Managed Friendship, a whole new way of thinking about friends

and relationships. He did a little jumping shuffle each time he said

"SPAZZ!" The Rev hit upon The Cow Solution to The Chair problem. It was

so cold that there had already been livestock deaths all over the

state. Cows that had forgotten to go home were being tipped and

shattered. I figger as long as I like watching movies where lots of shit

blows up, I can't hardly complain about chicks liking chick stuff. I

also have to stand pretty separate from my family most of the time,

because they all do the pain and helplessness thing really well, and I

have to be careful to keep the big vortex they create from sucking me

in, too. "When you have a houseful of drunks with guns and pianos, who

the hell knows?"

 

I've just discovered that the baby monitor broadcasts even when it's

turned OFF. If bad judgement were truly illegal we'd never be able to

find any GUARDS because we'd all be inside the biggest Big House of

then all. THEY COULD KNEED THIS WITH THEIR LITTLE ASSES AND GET

PERFECTLY GOOD BREAD, YOU IDIOTS!!! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT YOU'RE MAKING

THEM CRAZY???? "Sorry, ma'am, but don't think omletting you off

easy." Now it's official, I've also been out-mathed by a depressed

resale retard. He tore down the shed, and from the better pieces of

scrap lumber constructed about 200 small cages. mebbe the yard man is

dumb, but he done caught a pigeon or two, and he thinks maybe that

anyone who would make 200 cages for 200 pigeons is dumber than the

yard man.

 

These are the unpredictable people, and they could decide that YOU are

the embodyment of the great evil that is opposing them.

 

It looked like a diorama of Vlad Teppes' visit to McDonaldland.

It looked like a TEN to me. I never got paid but "Bob" lost his

business. You only have to go there 5 minutes on a crowded day before

you want to go home and get your AK-47. Destroy the weak-minded so

nobody will be tempted to exploit them. "Have a Nigger Day!" Instead,

he gave them EVEN MORE MONEY than they would have gotten out of him in

the first place. The plaintiffs, or their representatives, may inspect

the employment practices of the defendants. You think Slack grows on

trees? The worst of the dupes got a psychological kick to the balls.

The best of the dupes may have learned a lesson about False Slack. It

didn't strike at the place which ENCOURAGES such idiots to feel at

home. McDonalds was the BATTLEGROUND here, not the target. My

battleground is life itself, where the command strategies are dispersed

(and ignored) and the company is often impossible to get along with.

 

But on the other hand those poor fools were ASSURED of getting

something they DID like later on that night because THEY SURE

WERE PAYING THE PRICE THERE AND THEN. Who would you rather believe -

some rational joker trying to FOOL YOU by acting HONEST and SINCERE, or

a RAMPAGING OLD PSYCHO who is at least HONEST ENOUGH TO COME RIGHT OUT

AND TELL YOU HE'S LYING TO YOU?? To this day I cry if I hear Yes'

"Don't Kill the Whales". Maybe it is better not to exist, all the

really cool stuff doesn't. Not a fuckin' chance!!! I need at least 38

acres of space all to myself to keep you other life forms from driving

me over the edge. 1972 tablet LSD pink tablet. Since Slack examined is

Slack lost, a problem is presented for those of us who have our heads

perpetually up our ass. If you stuff a turkey right, there's no room to

get ANOTHER chihuahua in there. Apparently she recognised all of them,

because this is another segment in their mysterious pink rhythym--a

congregation way station in the race to see who can waste money faster

and uglier.

 

"For every SubGenius, there is another SubGenius seemingly put on earth

for no other reason than to piss the first one off." I didn't feel like

lugging it all the way down just yet, so I went to the xerox machine,

wrote "not radioactive" in tiny letters, and blew it up to full

8.5"x11" so the letters looked really blotchy and...Of course this

never leads to fucking. Please let this not be the thought process of

the average guy. The demons don't like the cold, and the only way they

can keep warm is by the anxiety of humans. When I go to the trouble of

actually offering up a prayer to you, dumb ass, I want results and I

want them fast. Maybe combat experience is different when you get to

kill, not just die. You know those chicks you sleep with? The fat

friends of your friends that you settle for? Chances are, they're

settling for you, too. Covet, lust, hate, because tomorrow WILL NOT

COME! HELL this would be the perfect opportunity to suicide bomb the

Church Hierarchy and end this mockery and perversion of society.

 

Trust me these fuckers put the ass in class

Oh Canada, Oh Canada

What a great country you are

 

"How much time do we have before I give the Pope a blowjob?"

I'm a part of something much bigger than my own desire to see my

grandkids grow up and learn to fuck like minks. "Who would have

thought that the end of the world would start with a blowjob and end

with a bang?" "Curiously Strong, my ass!" she muttered. "These things

are fatal!" In an effort to get organized, I propose that we create

separate threads for all of the alt.slack favorite subjects. That

said, I'm going to start photosynthesizing on July 6 and then start

working on chitinous space armor. If it weren't for me POINTING OUT

THE OBVIOUS AGAIN, you'd probably think The Conspiracy is run by

people instead of inertia, or that "Bob' gives a shit about anything

but his profits...Of course I could be wrong...but who seriously

believes the CIA was caught napping on this? The CIA has become

totally reliant on SatInt instead of ground intelligence.

 

Ah, Iceknife, it makes my brainwaves go all pitter patter to hear

someone else say they don't spend all their time glued to their own

internal soap opera waiting to see what it will let them do next.

 

I've just realized I'm THE ONLY CRAZY ONE LEFT, that EVERYONE ELSE is

SANE! I was trained as a PSYCHIATRIST, you know. They only threw me

out because of that ONE LOUSY CHICKEN. Then he should get a proper

'Fropping. If you were sitting INSIDE-OUT at a coffee shop, you would

violate health laws and be asked to leave. Am I entitled to sneer

contemptuously at the phrase "coffeehouse and cafe" for it's

redundancy, or have the definitions really changed? Can't these

fuckers just BUGGER OFF to some god-forsaken GLEN and WELD THEMSELVES

into the INTERIOR of a LARGE RUSTY CORRUGATED IRON SHED so they can

practice their TARTAN-CLAD DEVIANCIES without having to SPEW their

YELPING POOT across MILES OF DENSELY POPULATED TERRITORY?

I'm ASHAMED to know this many things about people I will never and

don't WANT to know.

 

If a bunch of indians moved into your house and sent you packing,

would you buy that line from their decendants 99 years later? What

humans will want to share their genes with a mate when they can have

an exact copy of themselves? "HE could fly. But that's because he

studied to be a PILOT and somebody gave him a PLANE because he did

all his homework."

 

Pinkness is as Pinkness DOESN'T. It's not a thing, it's a hole where

a thing is supposed to be.

 

Slack Dobbster! She came from Planet Bear. Its outer muscles fly

backwards off its bones. I for one think it's sick that we're not

exploiting the hell out of the human race the way the human race

exploits the hell out of oil deposits. Some see the vessel as half

full; others see it as half-empty. We pour it out on the floor and

laugh. And I will remind you, sir, that I have NEVER seen an

ill-dignified prarie squid in my life, UNTIL the day I met you. I

rode with "Bob", smoked an old corncob, when the endtimes raged And

all the Pinks were caged. Somewhere, for some reason, someone wants

you to be miserable; worse, actually, because you begin to suspect

that they want you to take an active role in your own misery, and

worse still, because you may begin to suspect that it's not just the

BAD GUYS who seem to want this. You might feel better about your job

if you did this ONE THING. If you cut me some SLACK. Believe me,

Dale, it's important. I AM that one person who is telling you the

truth.

 

Way back in '81, I gave up. Her idea was to try pudding painting...

It's GOT to be better than phlegm painting. What he did was to

reprogram a video game called SimCopter so that, instead of rewarding

the player with an image of scantily clad women rubbing themselves

against the hero, the screen showed two boys in swimsuits planting

kisses on each other. MY CAR IS ORDAINED! I have the ORIGINAL CLUTCH!!

The Chef pulls from the cooler Landgrabber's Dog's Head, and impales it

on the fencetop, eyes glazed and tongue lolling, watching the party.

What good is toiling away day after day if there's no Slack? Slack

first, everything else second. I *AM* free. I rule my OWN fucking life.

I can twist their rules, and control situations to my own advantage.

I've done it before...I've been UNSTOPPABLE before. The bandwidth of

reality is wonderfully wide. Many tribal peoples believe that seizures

are the result of being touched by God.

 

 

Apprehensively, yet lovingly, I would approach it, my damp and

disheveled offerings held limply in my arms. It would take these

imperfect trappings, one and all, transforming them into finery of no

compare, their newfound warmth and comfort imparting a feeling of

serenity unto me as if of the womb. I would reverently take of this

divine wealth only what I needed for the time, leaving the remainder

for the altar to watch over and protect in my absence, not a word of

protest ever to pass between us.

 

Read as much as you need and have the kleenex handy. This is a real

woman writing at one end of this. You are wrong, dola-ki-mo-loki-hana-po

(ignorant Texan who pimps his own children to keep his stupid mail order

novelty business from collapsing and forcing him to shovel dung or work

as a mime again.) I find it interesting that it took these savages THIS

LONG to notice how NIMBLY I had diverted the Holocaustian brute

dumbassery into Samoan race-baiting. This sort of gimmick has worked for

my people since time immemorial. There's a Salesman who's sure that the

end-times are near, And he's selling a ticket to rapture. This was a

million selling record on a major label, using the most holy and

REGISTERED TRADEMARK of an organization that, let's face it, *deserves*

and *needs* sick amounts of cash--without prior permission or any kind

of credit, save a tagged on shout out to "Bob" at the end of the

record. yeah, there's Eternal Slack and plenty of sex. There's plenty

of sex, but it's not especially TENDER sex. {ka-chik} Another round in

the chamber for an Ivangelical on X-Day. SCHIZ TILL YA JIZZ. This gives

us eight cycles for us to synch-up and bleed in one great technicolor

unison. The love life of a subgenius is always completely reckless,

irresponsible, passionate, and without a PG rating!

 

empathy is a thricedammed lie, a story told to lend some semblance of

faux compassion to the faceless demons we call neighbors, lovers, and

family. "snickersnack. on your back. bloody eyes where your soul was at"

Slack is not just getting your dick sucked by a beautiful mutant woman.

Slack is what allows you to enjoy life even if you AREN'T getting your

dick sucked. Slack is what makes it possible to survive in a world rife

with Pinkness, idiocy, and meaningless suffering. Cheap beer is what

allows you to forget how much the world sucks. Slack is what allows you

to remember how much the world doesn't suck.

 

My fleet-footed two year old could practice her 100 yard dashes

across the grass and I could just watch her instead of having to chase

her. The Slack was tangible. Even a little bit of Slack will always

whip the shit out of large masses of Anti-Slack.

 

I would be lying if I told you that one of our goals WASN'T petulant

vengeance, and here many of us are getting a head start. I thought I

was the only thinking person in a world full of doltish, slobbering

automatons; the only original in a sea of clones; a Bird of Paradise

among penguins, so to speak. YES, the power of Hate; YES, verbal death

to those who deserve it (until such time as a more meaningful death

can be arranged), YES, uninhibited expression of the self; but what

is the point of infinite trading of uninspired insults among those who

are supposed to be cultivating a higher plane of existance?

Wow, you're new, right? The OMNIVERSE is your OYSTER, and yer gonna

need a REALLY BIG FORK. What you will find here are are intelligent

conversations, awesome rants, nitpicky backbiting, childish

malevolence, and viscious verbal swordplay. I've personally read some

things here that changed my world in ways I much appreciated. Take

what you want from what's offered, but if you don't find what you

need then YOU create it.

 

When the Church is found, without Slack, And all the Subs, have

turned their backs, Don't you want those saucers to land? Space

aliens may eat french fries with a spoon or gobble down large amounts

of pills, experts say. Thy porcine pink doth taste of MSG, and lie

upon my plate exuding juice. She even stops DROOLING when I put it

on. I helped an old lady across the street and I calmed a manic

Raccoon in an exotic pet store. I was starting to feel like St.

Francis of Asissi for a few hours.

 

Just when I'm mentally begging for more the very next song is a PLA

march with strutting troops, bayonet thrusts and proud glares across

the border. Perfect. Show 'em a little skin, get 'em excited, then

remind 'em who's in charge. Glue, tape--tentacles go right back on,

see? At 13 I was brutally raped by a Palestinian, I hunted him down and

killed him. Take six apples. Bite them. Deny it.

 

If you are ever around a corporate environment for any length of time,

you will hear suits spouting a lot of "battlefield" jargon, like "Lock

and Load!" before making a presentation, or "Incomming!" as a decision

is being handed down. If you will notice, the people who use that

jargon are never actual combat veterans. You will almost never hear a

combat veteran use this type of jargon, or use gruesome metaphors,

because death and brutality have real, tangible meanings to them, and

are not spoken of lightly. I never SERIOUSLY THOUGHT that we'd crucify

and burn people. I have never been in a fight. I have always been able

to either bluster my way out or SIMPLY FLEE or EAT PUSSY.

 

Ugliness is a PINK standard, and no PROPER Yeti is held back from their

fair share of action because of it. At least they SAID it was a drug

sniffing dog. For all I know it was trained to ACT like it had just

smelled drugs. Humans are the one thing that SubGenii CAN'T take onto

the saucers. BIG TALK from HUMAN OMELETS.

 

I'll always remember it as The Double D Devival. At least the

Christians are a LITTLE weird, just by virtue of being religious nuts.

Achieving the MOST NORMAL NORMALITY POSSIBLE is the only thing that

counts--they're the ones that produce the dullest "bonnng" when you

clang the bell curve. Spaced out to the final frontier: these are the

voyeurisms of the starship "Doorprize". Not only this nonsense, but ALL

nonsense in the world will be exposed. All THEIR sweetness and light,

be yourself and the world will respect you, love is just around the

corner, hard work will be rewarded, individuality is cherished, someone

is looking out for you, the majority decides what is greatness, peace,

justice, brotherhood, equality, freedom, all THEIR big heaping

mountains of BULLSHIT. And all of THEIR BS is a HELL of a LOT STINKIER

than ours. If art is the 'lubricant' of the planet's soul, then it has

dried up a long time ago.

 

You tried so hard, hard to be a SubG, Pulled your own wool, tried to

set your mind free. And you may mock me now, but remember, God is NOT

mocked, and you ain't even BEGUN to pay what you got to pay for.

--In Joliet, it is illegal to mispronounce the name Joliet. It is

not an ANAL UVULA! It is a TEMPLE! FUCK IT ALL, ANYWAY. The Church of

the SubGenius is now The Church of the Inside Joke, and it won't

bother any Christians or other religious nuts, any more. people get

evicted all the time. suck it up, and move on. Someone once told me

(maybe it was my dad) that making enemies is a sure sign that you're

doing the right thing. Now if the only way to know you're actually

free is to speak out about what you truly believe, then enemies you

will make. Take it for what it is. A mark of achievement.

 

Praise "Bob"and Praise Ivan Stang and fuck all of the rest of 'em but

six, and save those just to be pallbearers.

 

What I want to know is who'll protect ME from the children? The

waitpersons clear off the tables there by scraping the plates of

leftover fish into the water. Where OTHER FISH know they can come up

and get a SNACK OF THEIR RELATIVES AND FRIENDS. Time for a Sun Ra

sermon that no one cares about...My parents were both drug addicted

hemophiliacs who bled to death in front of me while shooting up at my

only birthday party. I mean, there he was, World's Greatest Sidekick,

and all of the sudden his sarcasm gland just exploded.

 

The difference between the SubGenius and the Pink is NOT in the music

that you listen to...it's in the PAIN. We are the antennae of the

planet. We feel the pain that They cover up with sex, drugs, and

flashing smiles. We have the sex, we take the drugs, we flash the

smiles and we STILL feel the pain. We are the antennae, we feel it

first, but eventually the entire body must be made aware of the pain

or it will die. We must make the rest of the body hurt as much as we

do.

 

To Do Dobbs Will, we must spread the pain around. We must make the

Pink as miserable and hyperaware as we are. We must show them the

hypocrisy, cowardice, and dishonorable behaviors that caused our

gangrene in the first place. We must demonstrate the powers that

unfettered creativity possesses. We must choose our own path, our own

code of honor that is based not on what we were told, but what each

of us has learned through pain. And we must speak of that code to

everyone we meet. We must be true to ourselves and let that truth

show then how much pain they make themselves live in; how little they

are willing to receive in exchange for so much of their lives.

 

It was a beautiful moment, Yetikin.

 

Really. You can't make shit like that up. Well, at least I can't. But

that's why I don't have a big shit job on Madison avenue at J. Wachs

and Willie or something and a buncha wop suits and a teflon cell

phone that will fit up my nose. Some woman in Florida threw her 18

month old kid out of her moving car (on a freeway) because she said

that she would rather the kid not live rather than being exposed to

the pornography put out by THE DISNEY COMPANY.

 

...had brought their own variety of "panty remover" and everyone

toasted the chef. I was Superwoman! I was MECHANICAL! "Are you going

to throw those doughnuts under the counter away?" in a sweetly

innocent voice. We rode back to the office with a lot of cold wind,

misplaced hairpieces and pink cheeks. I wrote down the points.

 

And that, children, is how our universe was born out of a pea. The

pea spent the night warm and snug and bathed in womanly juices, and

then was expelled into a cold world, only to be laughed at. And as

the universe began, so do we all. If I can sue them to get myself a

nice chunk of change, well, too bad. How do people get their start in

this country? Suit, theft, inheritance, or insurance. If no one close

to you dies at the right time, you probably don't have a fuckin'

chance. Talk about the ultimate fucking aggressive dominance behavior

in a full length strapless plausible deniability gown with pretty

green sequins and EVERYTHING! WOO-WOO!

 

Kill "Bob" before he kills you. Classes of goth punks, teeny boppers

and bow-heads in stuffy community center classrooms listening to

stodgy police pinheads demonizing tobacco to the point where some

little sensitive girl starts crying during the film of the pretty

girl dying of lung cancer (she really has leukemia, but what the fuck,

a dying little girl looks like any other). So after that, we had a

new deal: No kids with guns AND no Bob. Michael Jackson gets his

girlish figure from drinking my pee! OR JUST FUCKING RESURECT ME!!!!

 

So the progression goes: Native American = Good, then: NA gets

screwed, NA gets screwed, NA all get screwed again and again and

again and still are, & don't you think it's time we just STOPPED it?

"Go ahead. Get trained to laugh at sincerity. When they've managed to

erase respect for it from others, they'll have erased self-respect

too." Sovereign rights my foot. When Native American tribes start

paying for their own roads, their own protection, their own food,

their own medical and dental care, their own ambassadors. When they

give up their citizenship in the State and United States. When they

stop taking money from the US treasury, then they will be sovereign

nations. Until then they are only associations dedicated to

distributing US tax money to their members and running bingo games.

All the LIES I've had to educate myself to detect. All the children

who'll grow up never knowing the truth, all of them who will starve

and be brutalized in Indian sweatshops so Americans can have snazzy

carpets, all the Neanderthal hate-mongers who will use any tool and

never stop, relentlessly making money.

 

2 TBSP *each* ricewine vinegar, soy sauce, lime juice, water. 1

scallion, minced. 2 TSP sugar. 1 TSP grated ginger. 1/4 TSP hot

pepper flakes.

 

I had three versions: The 45 Minute Marriage which I called The

Quickie. I had 6.66 Quickie marriages...I had to give her the

Overnight Sensation, the wedding that lasts until Sunrise...I gave

one very normal couple a Perma wed. They even filled out the spot for

(Your Diety Here) as "God". First they tried a "deep scale" which

means basically they laid the gum back with a knife and scraped right

down to the meat, and later when the pus pockets AGAIN developed they

sent me to an oral surgeon, who opened my gums up, routed PIECES OF

MY FLESH with instruments that Torquemada would have SOLD HIS SOUL

for, and installed what was delicately referred to as "transplant

tissue" which is actually GROUND UP DEAD PEOPLE.No kidding. They put

pieces of DEAD MEN'S BONES inside my gums. Dead women too, maybe.

 

Well, it's July 5th, I'm not on a saucer, and the pink boys are still

walking the earth. If you ever get a chance to visit National Parks

and Battlefields like Gettysburg, Shiloh and others, don't forget the

growing number of modern ones, Ruby Ridge, Roby, Ill, and Waco, TX.

So, do you think that the peckerwoods who blew up the Murrah Federal

Building were justified, eh d00d? You take what you are fed, huh? As

a man thinks...is how a man is. You let others think for you. Where

do you GET this shit? If how I think is how I am, YOU would be just

so many sausages right about now, because I THINK I would have

killed, butchered, cleaned, and stuffed you already!

 

By the way, JUSTICE GREEN IS MADE OF PEOPLE, YOU DAMN DIRTY APE!

 

However, that doesn't mean that I have to embrace a cult leader who

used mind control techniques, had a death wish, and led flock into a

firey death. Question: If someone called you and said, "Look out the

window and tell me what you see?" And I saw armored cars, vans, and

MEN IN BLACK low crawling to my door, you're damn right I'm going to

lock down the place and issue ammo and weapons. Usually, a summons is

issued by the local sheriff or a constable. Why then was there a

Federal INVASION of the place to ISSUE A SUMMONS or ISSUE A WARRANT???

If I tilted my head at the just the right angle, I could see out

through the exit wound, and read the sign on the wall behind me. It

was an advertisement for White Castle Hamburgers. "Gross", I thought.

 

No matter that the artwork you savor is not your own, and forgetting

that the job you were perfect for just didn't pan out.

 

A little tin pin and a fake diploma, Hey did we say the joke is on ya?

However, he added, "I've always seen [the affairs] as morally wrong,

and I've always tried to bring them to a conclusion as quickly as I

could." In a letter to the scientific journal Nature, M*** explained

how he and his colleagues observed the sex play of Pseudoceros

bifurcus, marine flatworms which duel with their sharp-tipped penises

to try to inject each other with sperm. Some people will wave some

poorly made paper mache props, some people will yell into

microphones, sometimes to music...or maybe I was mistaken, and there

WILL in fact be...three headed sword swallowing fire breathing crunt

spewing belly dancers with barbed tails and horns and a puppet show

and an all mosquito orchestra and bubbles and psychodermic swarms and

full runcification and cake and crystal skull brand brain condoms...

 

Hey, Mr. Slackman, Got my squirrel and my pumpkin by my side. How

about we just send you to Georgia? Just remember this, Bob: The

increased satanic activity in the world is something to be happy

about, not worried about. "The only reason they believe in Satan is

because some Christian told them about him." "I hate you because you

have silicone lips and use a better brand of Mousse than me," say I

hate you cause you're a nutso violent and kicked lotta ass while I

don't even have the balls to sass a clerk at the DMW or shoot the

crazy burrowing owl that's holed up in my Apple tree!

 

Six goddamn more fuckin' inches of fuckin' snow, fuckin' sleet,

fuckin' ice, and goddamn knows what other kind of white fuckin'shit

fell last night. I wounded the fuckin' snowplow asshole with an ice

ax but he got away.