Editor's Prescript To
THE GRATE BOOK OF MOO
I came by this document, written on old parchment in a fine
calligraphic hand, and signed in an illegible scrawl, in the back
of an old book shop, sold as a package with a volume on the
Copernican solar system. The signature I later took to a
handwriting analyst, who determined it to be that of one "Egbert B.
Gebstadter". After reading the document carefully several times,
I returned with the book to the shop where I had bought it, and
asked where the owner had obtained it. It seems that he had bought
it off a certain translator named Gebstadter who, being hard up for
money, had brought in a stack of books from his private collection,
all of which were very antique. He was reluctant to part with
them, but needed the cash. With some difficulty, I was able to
track down this Gebstadter, and in exchange for the return of his
book on Copernicus, I was able to extract from him the information
of whence came this mysterious parchment. It seems Gebstadter
himself had translated the work about ten years earlier, and that
he had obtained it from a friend named Marcus.
I sought out Marcus, who reported that he had found the
document in the bottom of an ancient steamer trunk. This would
have been the end of my trail, except that Marcus happened to have
been curious about what such a document would be doing underneath
the false bottom that concealed the inside of the trunk. Although
Marcus himself could not translate the document, the original of
which he showed me, Gebstadter had helped him, hence his curiosity.
He had returned to his uncle, from whom he had obtained the trunk,
and eventually dragged the secret out of him. Marcus' uncle had
been visiting in Sweden some years previously, and hidden the
document in his trunk to ensure its safety during the voyage.
Marcus asked where his uncle had found the document, and discovered
that it was sold to him by a fortune teller in Stockholm. She had
obtained it in lieu of payment from a mysterious customer in a long
dark coat, and having no use for it, sold it immediately to Marcus'
uncle.
Fortunately, Marcus' uncle had had the good sense to demand to
know what it was, and so had the fortune teller, who wasn't ready
to accept anything short of cash without a good explanation. The
mysterious customer had told the lady that it was a translation
into Swedish of an ancient Atlantean manuscript known only as the
"Voynich Manuscript". He told her that he had "liberated" it from
the hands of the tightfisted Atlantis scholar who had translated
it. The scholar himself had obtained it from a peddler in England,
who had sold him many works of Atlantean art, and the occasional
manuscript, and the peddler, on pressure from the scholar, admitted
to stealing it from the Temple of Atlantis, which survived in
London, handing down the tradition of the Atlantean faith from
"High Preest" to "High Preest". These Atlantis Templars professed
as an article of faith, when the peddler joined under false
pretenses in order to steal the Atlantean art, that they had had
them since the fall of Atlantis, and a few surviving members
rescued some of the islands more important and portable treasures
in their boat. This particular manuscript, they elaborated, was a
transcript of the original, taken during the fall of Atlantis from
the palace of the Great King Norble-Goop the Seventh, who reigned
during the Fourth Dynasty of the House of Norble, the final dynasty
of Atlantis.
Investigating the Atlantis Templars, I discovered that King
Norble had neither written nor found the manuscript himself, but
that it had been in the Royal Archives for the past several
thousand years before the final collapse of Atlantis. It was
originally purchased by Queen Dorble-Sneep the Fifth, of the
Seventh Dynasty of the Dorbles, from a travelling Flying Saucer
pilot, and translated by the Alien Contact specialists of Atlantis.
The pilot explained that he was an Intergalactic Merchant Broker,
and that this document was of no use to him, having been purchased
from a Time Travel Technician as a novelty item for his wife, just
before learning that she'd filed for divorce. The Time Travel
Technician, in turn, had picked it up as a sample from some time in
the future, and translated it for study. After finding out what it
was, he began selling the translated copies. It later turned out
that the "some time in the future" happened to be some hundred
thousand years after the Intergalactic Merchant Broker got it, and,
after further study, I found that the exact dates given by the
Atlantis Templars explained their horror at finding the manuscript
stolen by the peddlar.
Apparently the Technician explained to the Intergalactic
Merchant Broker that the present civilization on Earth (that is,
Atlantis) would eventually collapse, and 10000 years would pass
before civilzation emerged again, somewhere in Africa or possibly
the Mediterranean (he wasn't quite sure), and a long time after
that, this very book would appear somewhere in one of the major
countries of the world. The Atlantean Templars assumed he meant
THEIR copy of the book, which he would then return to his own time
and translate into Galactic, since the given date for the theft was
in 1998, known to be the year of the X-ist arrival on Earth. As it
turns out, it is most likely to be this very manuscript. Guard
yours carefully, and don't let any aliens steal it!
Enough of the story... On with the Book of MOO!
MOOism has nothing to do with COWs.
We just like the sound they make.
Released 1355670401.55555 DPP
Final Release
Version 3.141592653589793238462543383
It has been said that King Kong died for your sins
this has been confirmed
The One Commandment
Do What Thou Wilt Shall Be The Whole Of The Law
Unless Thou Wilt Not Follow The Law
(in other words)
Do What You Want Unless You Don't Want To
(or)
Never Mind
(or simply)
MU!
"If It Ain't Ranted, It Ain't True"
-W.O.M.B.A.T. Systems Inc. Motto
DISCLAIMER
Don't trust anyone. If they tell you something, it's a lie.
In fact, every sentence ever written or spoken is a lie. No,
that's a lie. Or maybe that was. This one is a lie. Actually,
that's not true. The truth IS somewhere in this book. You just
have to find it. Remember: Just because it's deep, don't mean it's
True. This Book has been thouroughly researched. Just that some
of the facts have been changed to protect the guilty. This is a
most blasphemous and heretical and annoying mind drug passing
itself off as a book. So don't blame us if you get addicted or
sent to Hell. Don't read the footnotes. They're dangerous. The
truth isn't in them. THEY LIE! LIE LIKE A RUG! If you experience
side effects from this annoying mind drug, contact your regular
physician. Do not inhale this annoying mind drug while operating
heavy marmalade. This annoying mind drug is not intended to
replace genuine and authorized medical, professional, legal,
political, social, economic, or otherwise authenticated advice.
Consult your regular brainwasher before pulling the wool over your
own eyes.
COPY-RITES
Copyright wheneverthehell this is. We hold all rights to this
work, yes, you heard me, ALL of them. This work may not be
reproduced in whole or in part by any means, photocopy, modem,
reading, understanding, remembering, mentioning, or any other
method without the prior written consent of the High Preest.
That being out of the way, I hereby give written consent for
anyone to do whatever they like to it. Not that I'm the High
Preest or anything.
All rights reserved except the right to reserve all rights except
the one used to reserve most of the rights except the right to
reserve all rights but this one. All rites reversed.
And now for something completely identacle...
INTRODUCTION
This is the current compiled works of MOOism as written by
those who really should know better - The Apostles of MOO, and
compiled, edited and formatted by the Cardinal Richelieu Hellhound
101 (who claims no responsability for the contents thereof). It
was then taken by Floyd Gecko, High Preest of MOO, and shamefully
edited beyond all recognition. Finally taken by Half-Mad, Grate
Prophet of MOO, and hacked up into the COW format you see here. It
should be noted that Hellhound 101 has since attempted to leave, on
account of how the others got far too carried away with the whole
thing, and lost track of the point. The others insBLATTT that that
WAS the point. But they're fools. If you thought this was stupid,
just wait till you read the REST of the Book.
Those who take this book at face value are fools.
Those who ignore what this book says are fools.
Those who think this book is a waste of time are fools.
Correct fools, but fools nonetheless.
DEDICATION
This Great Book of MOO is dedicated to itself.
Houtos Biblios MOOei Esti Seauti.
Hic libros MOOi suae dedicatus est.
TABLE OF CONTENTS (In No Particular Order)
HOLY BEGINNING, BATMAN!
HOLY DEFENSIVENESS ................... Grate Prophet Half-Mad
TITLE PAGE ............................ Unheretic Gettah Leif
DISCLAIMER ............................ Unheretic Gettah Leif
COPY-RITES ..................................... Ann O'Nymous
INTRODUCTION ............... Cardinal Richelieu Hellhound 101
DEDICATION ................................ The Prettiest One
TABLE OF CONTENTS ............................... THE AUTHORS
PREFACES
PREFACE I ........................... High Preest Floyd Gecko
PREFACE II .......................... High Preest Floyd Gecko
PREFACE III ................ Cardinal Richelieu Hellhound 101
PREFACE IV .......................... Counciltwit Confuse-Ius
PREFACE V .................. Cardinal Richelieu Hellhound 101
PREFACE VI ..................................... Ann O'Nymous
PREFACE VII ........................ Inner CirclBLATTT El Cid
PREFACE VIII ........................ High Preest Floyd Gecko
PREFACE IX ...................... ConfusionBLATTT Confuse-Ius
PREFACE IX« .................................... Ann O'Nymous
PREFACE X ...................... Counciltwit Brian O'Blivious
THE BOOKS OF THE APOSTLES
BOOK OF HALFY .................................. Ann O'Nymous
BOOK OF FLOYD ................... I Yemen-Oying I Yemen-Oying
BOOK OF HELLHOUND .................. Monjunior Little Bug Man
BOOK OF TERAFNORD ........... Inner CirclBLATTT Leper Messiah
BOOK OF THE LEPER ................... High Preest Floyd Gecko
BOOK OF LITTLE ...................................... Wom Bat
BOOK OF WOMBAT .......................... Reverend Canoe-Head
BOOK OF LLOYD ............................. Prophet TeraFNORD
BOOK OF CID ................ Cardinal Richelieu Hellhound 101
BOOK OF ABACAB ............................ Preest Lloyd Taco
BOOK OF CANOE-HEAD ................. Outer CirclBLATTT Abacab
BOOK OF ANN .......................... Grate Prophet Half-Mad
BOOK OF YEMEN ...................... Inner CirclBLATTT El Cid
PLUS ONE BONUS UNLBLATTTED BOOK!
By Confuse-Ius
BOOKS OF RITUALS
MAJOR RITUALS 00001-00011 ........... High Preest Floyd Gecko
MINOR RITUALS 00001-00004 ........... High Preest Floyd Gecko
BOOK OF THE CEREMONIES
MARRIAGE CEREMONY ................... High Preest Floyd Gecko
INITIATION CEREMONY ................. High Preest Floyd Gecko
PROMOTION CEREMONIES ................ High Preest Floyd Gecko
EXORCBLATT CEREMONY ................. High Preest Floyd Gecko
BAPTBLATT CEREMONY .................. High Preest Floyd Gecko
SNOWBLOWER CEREMONY ....................... Preest Lloyd Taco
ENLIGHTENMENT MANTRAS ..................... Preest Lloyd Taco
BOOK OF THE REALLY SECRET SECRETS
ALL SECRET BOOKS .................... High Preest Floyd Gecko
ADDENDUM ........................... Penguin Poobah Peng-Peng
NOTE ON SECRETS ..................... High Preest Floyd Gecko
POTATOMA OF SYNERGY ................. High Preest Floyd Gecko
CYBORGANIC CHURCH ................... High Preest Floyd Gecko
MULTIVERSE SEQUEL ..................... Lo Proost Confuse-Ius
BOOK OF HBLATTTORY
COMMENTARIES ON HBLATTTORY ................ Preest Lloyd Taco
PROPHECIES OF PENG-PENG ............ Penguin Poobah Peng-Peng
AFTERWORD ........................... High Preest Floyd Gecko
PROPHETS OF MOO .................... Inner CirclBLATTT El Cid
THE ENEMIES OF MOO ................ ConfusionBLATTT Miss Take
tHE mORONS ............................... Preest Fluid Geeko
THE REAL HISTORY OF MOO ............. High Preest Confuse-Ius
SECRET HBLATTTORY OF MOO ....................... Ann O'Nymous
BOOKS OF HONEST TRUTH
BOOK OF HONEST TRUTH ...................... Preest Lloyd Taco
BOOK OF LIES .............................. Preest Lloyd Taco
BOOK OF AMBIGUITY ......................... Preest Lloyd Taco
BOOK OF NUMBERS ........................... Preest Lloyd Taco
BOOK OF MYTHS
WOMBAT ORIGIN ISSUE ................................. Wom Bat
WOMBAT MYTHS ........................ High Preest Floyd Gecko
SNOWBLOWER MYTHS .............................. I Yemen-Oying
WOMBATELLITE MYTH .................... Low Preest Goyd Flecko
CONVOLUTED MYTHS .......................... Preest Lloyd Taco
CYBERMYTHS ............................ Unheretic Gettah Leif
PIZZA MYTHS ........................... Unheretic Gettah Leif
TELEVISION MYTHS .................... High Preest Floyd Gecko
BOOK OF MISCELLANY
"WORDS" ........................................ Ann O'Nymous
"CONTRACT" .................................. Not Confuse-Ius
"NOSLIW NOTNA TREBOR" ............... High Preest Floyd Gecko
"PARANOIA PAYS" ................ Confuse-Ius And Ann O'Nymous
"RANDOM GIBBERISH" .............................. Confuse-Ius
"HAPPY" ................................... Preest Lloyd Taco
APPENDICITISES
APPENDICITIS I ............. Cardinal Richelieu Hellhound 101
APPENDICITIS II ............ Cardinal Richelieu Hellhound 101
APPENDICITIS III ........... Cardinal Richelieu Hellhound 101
APPENDICITIS IV ..................... Saint Fourth Class Yari
APPENDICITIS V ......................... Prophets and Preests
APPENDICITIS VI ........................Preest Jeffrey Morton
APPENDICITIS VII .................... High Preest Floyd Gecko
APPENDICITIS VIII.......................... Preest Lloyd Taco
APPENDICITIS IX¬ .................... High Preest Floyd Gecko
APPENDICITIS IX« ................................ THE AUTHORS
APPENDICITIS X .......................... The Apostles Of MOO
Plus meaningless Confuse-Ing Inter-Raptures
Flip to a random spot to find a meaningless quote that you can read
Starry Wisdom into to shed light on your dark life. Truly. For
the TRUE meaning of this Book, Read Between The Lines.
WARNING: DO NOT USE THIS DOCUMENT AS TOILET TISSUE!!!
º=ÊÊþÁÕo]×˱X/9þ"'µs-æqþx³Ã'njäqþlfË8`ÖUà
MOO
OMM
PREFACE I
as written by
Floyd Gecko the stoopid
Syntax and general guidelines for MOO:
00001) MOOism and MOOist are the only "ism" and "ist". This is
because all the main problems of the world are blamed on
"isms": the communBLATTTs blame them on the capitalBLATTTs,
and vice versa. The anarchBLATTTs blame it on the
fascBLATTTs, everyone hates consumerBLATT, and sadBLATT is
thought to be a horrible thing. So, all others besides MOOism
and MOOist are replaced by "BLATT" for "ism" and "BLATTT" for
"ist". Half-Mad says to only do this to the ones where ISM
and IST actually MEAN what it seems to, but you can have fun
and do it elsewhere as well... Or even where there's no ISM
or IST. Not like we could stop you.
00002) MOO is always in caps. This is because I say so, and I'm
the High Preest.
00003) Typical spellings are with 2 "O"s and no "!", with one "!",
with 3 "O"s and 2 "!"s and so forth. Other variants, such as
the "as many O's as you can write before you get tired of it"
variant may also be used.
00004) When you flip the identity of its letters...
MOO
OMM
(This is a typical MOOist logoff on BBS's)
5) Always, ALWAYS, ALWAYS (Well, sometimes), use the 5-digit
document numbering system.
The MOOist symbol, named the Halfy after Halfy, our Grate
Prophet, is a V with a mark inside. Often MOO can be spelled out
with little letters. I like to do this with O's for the "M" and
M's for the "O"...
The words "BOOK" and "ANNOYING MIND DRUG" can be used
interchangeably.
If any outsiders ask "WHAT IS MOOISM?", the following
explanation must be given in order to (a) confuse the shit out of
them, (b) protect our real secrets, and (c) satisfy the Law Of
Bullshhim.
"The big doctrine of MOO is that we live in Hell already.
When you die, you get to go to Earth if you're good, or get
reincarnated as a bagel if you're bad. In order to obtain
Salvation and actually get to get sent to Heaven, you must send all
your money and ten cups of coffee, WITHOUT SPILLING, through the
mail by Parcel Post, to "BOB", care of the SubGenius Foundation,
P.O. Box 140306, Dallas Texas, 75214. Unfortunately, there is this
Undead Wombat Horde whose sole job, under the direction of an Evil
Computer called WOMBAT, which uses an evil base-23 psychic system
to control the world through the Alien Mind Beams, is to tip over
and generally abuse all parcels that go through the mail in order
to keep us from obtaining genuine salvation. They also steal
single socks from dryers, plant extra coathangers in closets, and
cause as much confusion and mayhem as possible. Only through
communing with the Grate MOO through the Grate Prophet Half-Mad is
it possible to remove the influence of these Wombats from your
life."
As all MOOists know, this is actually a bunch of Bullshher,
thrown in to satisfy the Law of Bullshthem. Honest. WOMBAT works
FOR us. Really. No, I mean it. Honest. It's true.
Note: ]×˱X/9þ"'µs-æqþx³Ã'njäqþlfË8`ÖUà#¾þ^èT PREFACE II
as written by the
High Preest Of MOO,
Floyd Gecko the deranged
Whassa MOOism?
MOOism is an international Church of Lies, partially not
devoted to non-promotion of the Law of Bullshit.
MOOists support: happiness, freedom, equality, cannibalBLATT,
free sex, anarchy, environmentalBLATT, bureaucracy, socialBLATT,
anarchy, free sex, free sex, and more free sex, a bit more anarchy,
flour, eggs, baking soda, water, and milk.
Mix thoroughly all dry ingredients, stirring rapidly. Throw
in some pyromania, paranoia, general insanity and a bit more free
sex just to be on the safe side. Add liquid ingredients and beat
for a while.
Now add some bestiality, necrophilia, and sadBLATT... or am I
just flogging a dead horse here?
And remember AleBLATTTer Crowley's favourite saying:
"Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law"
And the stoopid SubGenius Takeoff:
"Do what keepeth thou from wilting shall be the loophole
in the law"
That is, ya get ta do whatever you like. This means EVERYONE.
Including you.
Actually, that's a lie. It's just that there's always these
taboo things, even if they're so well enforced that you don't know
they're there. So the only thing we stand for is getting rid of
them (HONEST!) even if they're not even fully formed yet, like in
them counter-culture things against yer basic smart-ass, yer basic
televangelBLATTT, and stuff like that there.
Oh, you wanted it in DEEP terms? Okay, I'll give the
"condensed" version of my various "DEEP" explanations I give to
people who aren't sufficiently silly (enlightened) to understand
the REAL one... All people who don't need this in your life at
this time, you can ignore it, or you can fuck off.
Religious Explanation:
MOOism is the worship of "The Grate MOO", which is a composite of
ALL religious Gods and Goddesses, taking the metaphorical form of
a great Mother Goddess... Just as, in HinduBLATT, for example,
there are many lesser gods and so forth, all combined into Brahma,
the Grate MOO does this across sectarian borders. [deeeeeeep]
Mathematical Explanation:
The Grate MOO is the most literal possible representation of
Cantor's Absolute Infinite. When Cantor discovered that there are
infinitely many LEVELS of infinity (the number of levels is the
same as the value of the highest level), he presaged the Grate MOO.
The Grate MOO is, by definition, incomprehensible, because of the
Reflection Principle, which states that any description about the
Absolute Infinite also applies to some smaller level of infinity.
The Grate MOO is the set of all things which exBLATTT, might
exBLATTT, could theoretically be imagined, or aren't even possible.
[deeeeeeeeeeeep]
Psychological Explanation:
MOOism is the attempt to expand the human mind by allowing
participants to dissolve their own reflex-arcs and habitual modes
of thought by using silliness (a well known catalyst for nonlinear
breakdown modes) and a variation of non-morality and a zenlike
satori experience through Godel-like mental tricks and paradoxes,
which is reccomended for all participants.
[deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep]
The ArtBLATTTic Explanation:
MOOism is the first religion to recongnize OFFICIALLY the potential
of religion as a GNU art form. In the past, single works of art
might have been treasured and held in devotion. Now, with the
explosion of Pop Art (art on soft-drink cans), art is everywhere,
from billboards by roadsides to the elite galleries of Europe.
Religions were once created painstakingly, and held separately,
apart from the rest. MOO is one of the opening waves of Pop
Religion. Pretty soon, the Revealed Word Of God will show up on
your bottle of Coke...
The Memetic Explanation:
MOOism is the attempt to acheive more rapid human evolution by
preserving as many memetic portions of human society as possible.
It includes all memes which exBLATTT at any one time, as well as
creating memes which don't. Because of this, it includes ALL
COWhuman thought within it as preservation, and comprehension of
the whole by any one human is therefore impossible.
The reason they all seem so different is because of the
Reflection Principle. Any of those descriptions could equally well
apply to any other similar religion as well, because MOO is
transcendental, including ALL human thought.
Of course, the REAL explanation is much more fun, being
extremely silly. PREFACE III
as written by
the Elite High Councilors
of MOO, the Cardinal Richelieus
And The High Preest
There are several subdivisions of MOOism. The
First is the religion itself:
A) The many-leveled being of MOO has been
explored in a multitude of ways, and some would
seem to indicate that not all the tiers of MOO
are equal, and are in fact dBLATTTinguished by
name, rank and membership requirements. Here are the titles, in no
particular order. Or maybe some order, but not a very significant
one. Well, something like that.
00001. Omnimalevolent Polly's Father and Grated Leader Of MOO
Title: Grate Prophet of MOO, Apostate of MOOism
Number of Title Holders (max): One Half (1/2) (0.5)
Current Title Holder: Half-Mad
Tenure: Infinite. Plus 4 years
Membership Requirements: Unknown
Job: Classified
0001¬. The Wholly Air-Traffic Controller of Potatoma
Title: The High Preest of MOO, Apostate of MOOism
Number of Title Holders (max): One and a bit (1+bit)
Current Title Holder: Floyd Gecko (and a bit)
Tenure: Until eaten by a Cow, or death
Membership Requirements: Write much of the Book of MOO, Be
stupendously silly, and be willing to be eaten by a Cow
when the Cow so decides.
Job: To justify MOO fests, to write about Mints and Wombats,
to call for MOO guidance in times of need.
0001«. The Elite Upper Council of MOO
Title: Cardinal Richelieu, Mud, Apostate of MOOism
Number of Title Holders (max): Whatever the others say (3)
Current Title Holders: Hellhound 101
Tenure: Life
Membership Requirements: Be sexually active, open minded, wise
and knowledgeable about the items of MOO and the many
Heresies. Members must be voted in by the current Title
Holders and nobody else.
Job: To attempt to cancel MOOfests, to hunt down and capture
the heretic unMOO cultBLATTTs to be either destroyed by
MOO vengeance or to be turned over to the MOOists for
re-programming or to be eaten by the Grate Prophet and
the Dinner Circle members.
00002. Prophet of MOO
Title: Prophet, Little Prophet, Apostle of MOOism.
Number of Title Holders (max): Whatever The Grate Prophet sez.
Current Title Holders: Necromancer TeraFNORD
Tenure: Life, or until removed by Grate Prophet
Membership Requirements: To be accepted by The Grate Prophet,
to make prophecies about things surreal.
Job: To attend MOO-Fests, to do silly things in silly places,
to think of neat ways science can be used for personal
entertainment.
00003. Saint First Class
Title: Saint First Class, Wow A Saint
Number of Title Holders (max): unlimited
Current Title Holders: (TOP SECRET)
Tenure: More or less infinite
Membership Requirements: (TOP SECRET)
Job: (TOP SECRET)
00004. Nobody
There is no 4th rank.
Title: None
Number of Title Holders (max): none
Examples: None
Tenure: None
Membership Requirements: None
Job: None
0004«. Saint Second Class
Title: Saint Second Class, Saint Bernard
Number of Title Holders (max): unlimited
Examples: Spaxter, Yossarian, HAL 9000, Simon MOON, Floyd
Gecko, Harry Gerber, Trurl & Klapaucius
Tenure: as near to infinite as makes no odds
Membership Requirements: To be a fictional character of
interest.
00005. Saint Third Class
Title: Saint Third Class, Saint Patrick's Day
Number of Title Holders (max): unlimited
Examples: All Monty Python characters, Arthur Dent
Tenure: infinite or until they get really boring
Membership Requirements: To be a silly fictional character
0005¬. Saint Fourth Class
Title: Saint Fourth Class, Jolly Saint Nick
Number of Title Holders (max): unlimited
Examples: Yari, John Lennon, St. John The Divine, Richard
Feynman, Pythagoras, Moimos Eursti, Ferenc Puskas, R.
Buckminster Fuller, Alan Turing, Jon von Neumann,
Siddartha Gautama, John Fitzgerald Kennedy
Tenure: until they come back to life
Membership Requirements: be dead, or doing a REASONABLE
facsimile thereof after making a great contribution to
MOOism.
0005«. Saint Fifth Class
Title: Saint Fifth Class, Day-Saint
Number Of Title Holders (max): 1729
Examples: Go-Go the Do-Do, Arthur Dent, Dalai Dan, St. John
The Divine, Rudy Rucker, Eric the Half A Bee, Brian
O'Blivious, Daffy Duck
Tenure: Until no longer useful/valid/licenced, but only
during the day, just because I feel like it.
Membership Requirements: Act EXTREMELY surreal, or just sort
of generally wierd, or act constantly as if hit on the
head by 5 cartoon anvils, or otherwise be confused. Can
be real OR fictional, as required.
005.6. Bishopesse Of MOO
Title: Bishoppesse/Bishop, One Of The Silly Pointy Hat
Number Of Title Holders (joe): 6.3
Examples: MuPPeT (Muppet) (Mup Pet)
Tenure: Until the kitchen sinks
Membership Reqiurements: Get chosen
Job: To complain about Bishops, and act exceedingly cute when
asked. Or don't.
00006. Bishop Of MOO
Title: Bishop/Bishoppesse, Diagonal One, Apostle of MOOism
Number Of Title Holders (max): 11
Tenure: Until Hell Freezes Over
Membership Requirements: Say "I'm A Bishop Now" in the
presence of one of the top five members of MOO without
getting thwacked.
Job: To adminBLATTTrate, to lead, to Preech, and to generally
tell everyone else what to do. To do what you like.
00007. Knight Of MOO
Title: Knight Of The Trapezoidal Table, Llama, Apostle of
MOOism
Number Of Title Holders (max): 23
Tenure: A Long Time, In A Galaxy Far Away
Membership Requirements: Be unable to turn yourself and
others into frogs, but have obvious talent for something
unspecified. Be accepted by higher levels.
Job: Plant plastic cacti in public places, leave
unintelligible messages on BBSes, tell everyone you know
about MOOism. Violently convert random people to Fateor.
00008. Rook Of MOO
Title: Rookie Of The Year, Straight One, Apostle of MOOism.
Number Of Title Holders (max): 83... or maybe 93
Tenure: 23 years, renewable
Membership Requirements: Go through trial period of 23 days
of observation, act surreal, spread the Word.
Job: Continue to Spread The Word. Eat Peanut-Butter and
Banana Sandwiches.
0008«. Monjuniorhood Of MOO
Title: Monjunior Of The Church Of MOO, Apostle Of MOOism.
Number Of Title Holders (fred): 93... or maybe 83
Tenure: Ten ures, renewable.
Membership Requirements: Things which are required to become
a member.
Job: What the members do.
00009. The Dinner Circle Of MOO
Title: Inner CirlBLATTT, Virgin, Phred, Apostle of MOOism.
Number of Title Holders (max): One Hundred And Four (104)
Tenure: four years, renewable
Membership Requirements: Be accepted by the upper levels of
MOO as an Inner CirclBLATTT after serving a term as an
Outer CirclBLATTT.
Job: To attend MOOfests, to set fires, to be silly and to
practise Free and Safe Sex. May act as Preest if it's
important. Or if it isn't, for that matter.
00010. Preest of MOO
Title: Preest of MOOism, Apostle of MOOism.
Number of Title Holders (max): As many as are needed, keeping
at least one (one) (1) (I) (0.5 + 0.5) per sect of
MOOism.
Tenure: Life, or until quit or removed by the High Preest.
Membership Requirements: To try to be as silly as the High
Preest, to write some stuff for something about very
little.
Job: To find GNU literary and audio/video sources for MOOist
enjoyment, continue to Preech.
00011. The Doubter Circle Of MOO
Title: Outer CircleBLATTT of MOO, Weenie, Goober, SnotBall,
Apostle of MOOism
Number of Title Holders (max): Eighteen Hundred (1800)
Tenure: one day, renewed automatically until excommunicated or
raised to the level of a Virgin.
Membership requirements: Submit Application, endure ritual.
Job: To attend MOOfests, to impress the higher odours of MOO.
To spread the word (and treacle) of MOO.
QUACK!
0011«. Pasteur
Title: Hon. Pasteur, Pasteur, Moloko, The Beast
Number Of Title Holders (max): 666.666
Tenure: Until sourness occurdles
Membership Requirements: Be pure, disease-free, opaque, and
generally uncontaminated.
Job: To ensure the mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual
health of all Offical Animals in the vicinity.
00012. Honourable Reverend
Title: Hon. Reverend, Reverend
Number or Title Holders (max): Anyone approved by a higher
level.
Tenure: As long as they appear to give the correct impression.
Membership requirements: Hmm, doesn't take much really.
Job: Do odd things with sheep. Be social. Save large groups
of people from painfully horrid deaths when needed.
00013. Councillor Of MOO
Title: Counciltwit, Some Council Thing Or Other
Number of Title Holders (max): Zillions
Tenure: Determined by the Councils
Membership Requirements: Determined by the Councils
Job: Attempt to protect the Church Of MOO from the
CapriCancer threat.
00014. CapriCancer
Title: Some Loser Guy, Cancerous Growth
Number Of Title Holders (max): A whole bunch
Tenure: Until tenure expires
Membership Requirements: Head a worldwide conspiracy.
Job: Attempt to destroy that horrible and blasphemous MOO
thing. Kill Floyd Gecko. Be utterly despicable.
00015. Acolyte
Title: Scum, Hey You, Silly Twit
Number of Title Holders (max): Infinite. Plus one.
Tenure: As long as the Apostles of MOOism feel like.
Membership Requirements: Submit application, endure tiny
ritual
Job: Do whatever the Inner CirclBLATTTs and above want you
to. Be a gopher to the higher orders.
00016. Fateor
Title: Lazy Twit
Number of Title Holders: Very difficult to estimate.
Tenure: As long as they like.
Membership Requirements: In some way, to actively recignize
MOOism. No application required.
Job: Actively recignize MOOism in any way you choose.
00017. Agnoscere
Title: Idiot, Twit
Number of Title Holders: A lot
Tenure: Life, or until moved to a higher ranking.
Membership Requirements: To have, at some point, recognized
or known that MOOism exBLATTTs. No application required.
Job: To have, at some point, recignized the exBLATTTance of
MOOism, but have not filled out any application, are not
a saint, and do not actively recignize MOOism.
00018. Snacky
Title: Snackie, Unsuspecting Freak
Number Of Title Holders: Dang near 6 Billion
Tenure: Until They're Not A Snacky Anymore
Membership Requirements: To be Un-MOO, Anti-MOO, or to have
no connection with MOO whatsoever.
Job: To be eaten and otherwise destroyed by the Cow and
MOOists in the form of War, Crime, AIDS, and Cheese Whiz.
00019. Evil One
Title: That Evil Guy, Evil Person, Bung
Number of Title Holders (MAX): Twelve
Current Title Holders: Brian Mulroney, Vincent Emond, "BOB"
Tenure: Until no longer evil, or people forget who you are.
Membership Requirements: To be extremely evil. Or at least
a bit evil. At any rate, to be something vaguely
resembling evil for a little while, or maybe not be very
nice to someone at some point or other. Maybe.
Job: To continue to be a bit evil until tenure elapses, or
are eaten by the Great MOO.
00020. Perrennial Heretic
Title: Legend In His Own Mind, I Yemen Oying
Number of Title Holders (max): FIVE
Current Title Holders: I Yemen-Oying, E.D. Brebis
Tenure: Until conversion or onset of senility
Membership Requirements: Refuse to admit to being a MOOist,
but participate in most Fests and Rituals anyways.
Non-application required.
Job: Refuse to admit to being a MOOist, participate in Nomic
ritual, Fests, burning, QUACKBLATT, ConfusionBLATT,
Muk-Funna MOO ritual, and all minor rituals. Protest
violently against being made a category of MOOism.
00021. Everybody Else
Title: Nobody, Worthless Loser, Some Dimwit
Number Of Title Holders: Infinity minus one
Current Title Holders: Almost Everyone.
Tenure: Until finding out about MOOism, or in any way fitting
into one or more of the previous titles.
Membership Requirements: To have never even heard of MOOism.
Job: None.
00022. Other
Title: Other, Nobody Special, Lord High Chancellor
Number Of Title Holders: Don't ask ME
Current Title Holders: Ann O'Nymous, Half-Mad, Bishoppesse
MuPPeT
Tenure: Unclear At This Time
Membership Requirements: To fail to fall into any of the
other categories, or to not even exBLATTT.
Job: Complete the necessary 23rd membership rank.
00023. UberSagan
Title: Billions and Billions
Number of Title Holders: Vast
Tenure: Until shrinkage (Juº=ÊÊþÁÕo]×˱X/9þ"'µs-æqþx³Ã'njäqþlfË8`ÖË-@ü)
Membership Requirements: To be a very large number
Job: To denumerate things
_
0000Q. Nun Of The Above
Title: Nun Of The Above, High Priestess, Someone
Number Of Title Holders (max): nîN
Tenure: No
Examples: High Priestess Indoctrinate-Me
Membership Requirements: To exBLATTT entirely outside the
MOOish ranking system.
Job: To confuse the hell out of people.
B) Another subdivision of MOOism is QUACKBLATT. See
the book of QUACK for information on the QUACKBLATTTs.
The Great QUACK is the rebel son of the Great MOO. His
brother is BOB, and his sBLATTTers are Eris and Aneris.
Fortunately, the QUACKBLATTTs have recently converted
to this. Previously they were MOOists who wouldn't
admit it, which is the worst kind. Now they are
MOOists who DO admit it, which is the... well... the
other kind.
C) The Church Of The Sub-Genius
All MOOists must at least contemplate joining this
Church. There is no problem with belonging to both, at
least according to MOO. What they think about it may be
a different matter.
The central pillar of their belief is that there is
a semi-mystical entity known as "BOB", who will appear
in the X-BLATTT Flying Saucers in 1998 and take all
members of the Church away, and transform them into
OverWomen and Ubermen. Honest.
"BOB" is known to be responsible for the rash of strange or
mystical "BOB"s in the media, such as the "BOB" of the Doritos
commercials, and the "BOB" in Twin Peaks. According to the Church
of the Sub-Genius, these events will become more and more common as
the time of "BOB"'s arrival approaches. For this reason, all
MOOists in this subsect, and those outside who want to get in the
"good books" must actively attempt to create more of these mystical
"BOB"s in the world. If you are able, put ads in the paper with
mysterious overtones about "BOB". If you are a columnBLATTT, say
something odd about him. Basically, do that kind of thing. The
wider the audience the better.
"BOB" is to be held as a secondary deity of MOOism, a son of
the Great MOO. His sBLATTTers are Eris and Aneris, his brother is
QUACK, who is NOT a deity.
Excerpts from the Annoying Mind Drug of The SubGenius would
have been included in an appendix, but weren't.
D) DiscordianBLATT
For the full story, consult the Principia Discordia, which may,
upon much pleading, be borrowed from Hellhound 101 if he's in a
good MOOd, or Floyd Gecko, if he's not. Or bought at a store, if
you feel like being CONVENTIONAL.
Basically, Eris (or Discordia, as she is known
to some) is the Goddess of Chaos. She may be
contacted through your Pineal Gland. She represents
the forces of disorder, chaos, and confusion. Since
this is one of the main purposes of MOOism, members
are advised to join this subsection of MOOism. The
only thing wrong with the story as given in the
Principia Discordia is that it fails to understand
the gospel of Yari.
Here, then, are some revisions:
After the Great Explosion which created the Earth and the
Heavens and the Universe out of the Primordial Tundra in which
flourished the Primordial Penguins, there was also created by the
Great MOO two sBLATTTers from the little bit called Void. These
sBLATTTers were Eris and Aneris. They had THREE brothers, two
of which were oddly not mentioned in Principia, known as "BOB", and
QUACK. The third was mentioned, but didn't have a name.
Eris did not, as has been suggested, create the world, but she
took it to play with it, which was actually what got Aneris upset.
In 1998, "BOB" will take it back from them, and make it a better
place for all of us, but some time after that, QUACK will throw it
on the Tundra (or what is left of the Tundra) and break it. The
great MOO will then have to get a GNU one for her children to play
with. For more information, consult the Principia Discordia. It
should be available somewhere or other.
E) The Temple Of The Primordial Penguin
In the gospel according to Saint Yari, it is revealed that
before the creation of the world there exBLATTTed great penguins.
It is not known where these penguins came from, but those who ask
such questions are surely heretics, as we all know they were made
by the Great MOO, who made herself retroactively, while playing the
Game Of Nomic.
What is not commonly known is that one of these Penguins, a
young fellow whose name may not be spoken, also played the Game Of
Nomic with the Great MOO in the days before Time began. This
Penguin, who was deemed worthy of survival over all other Penguins,
was rescued by the Great MOO (though the heretic followers of a
splinter of this subdivision of MOOism actually go so far as to
suggest that he saved himself from the explosion, and even dare to
suggest that the Great MOO COW was HIS creation, not her own).
When he came into being after the explosion, he found a bit
left over that was very like our World, and filled it with Penguins
created in His image. These penguins, like him, were very smart,
and some escaped out onto the remnants of the Tundra. Some of them
fell from grace, and became mere penguins, but one was a very smart
Penguin named Jehovah, or Yaweh, as some knew him, and he entered
our Earth with his brothers and sBLATTTers, and then pretended to
be God.
The Primordian Penguin, Father Of All Penguins, is another
deity of MOO, but he is not of the family of the Great MOO.
F) ConfusionBLATT.
ConfusionBLATTTs are dedicated to confusing everyone. As part
of this supreme effort, every member of the religion has the Holy
Name of Confuse-ius.
Although the general event is free-form confusing,
participants may also enter the sprint-confuse, in which they pack
as many non-sequiteurs and confusing statements as possible into a
single minute or paragraph of writing. In addition, the Marathon
Confuse is open to all members, in which event they spend their
entire life being generally confusing. However, Free-Form
confusing is by far the most common, in which everyone does
whatever they generally feel like doing, using the name
Confuse-ius.
There are deep philosophical reasons they do this, but they
really are terribly confusing, and nobody could talk to one long
enough to figure out just exactly what they are, except that they
think that it makes the world a better place. Or maybe not.
They seemed rather confused on the issue.
G) (TOP SECRET)
This section has been censored by someone who didn't want
anyone to read it. Also, it's contents contained references to
such things as (CENSORED), (CENSORED), and (CENSORED), and is
therefore considered dangerous and highly subversive. If you would
like a copy of the contents of this section, don't bother calling:
Security Intelligence Review Committe -- 1-613-990-8441
because they won't send it to you.
Operators are NOT standing by to take your call, so don't even
bother trying. It's really not worth it.
H) tHE cHURCH oF mORON
These most blasphemous heretics invented their own little
brand of MOO by the simple expedient of writing a whole bunch more
annoying mind drugs for the Book what they wouldn't give us.
Technically, they worship the Penguins, and particularly Jesus
ChrBLATTT. We're not sure just WHY this is, because they won't let
us read their annoying mind drugs.
The full name is tHE cHURCH oF mORON, jESUS cHRblattt O'
fLATTER dAY-sAINTS, because they wrote the annoying mind drugs
while extremely stoned, and they like the Day-Saints, and
apparently the acid conversation drifted to Go-Go the Do-Do (one of
the Day-Saints), and anvils. Thus the "flatter" bit. Apparently
part of their job is to go around, find anyone who acts surreal,
and drop an anvil on them.
More Churches and the like may be found in the Cult Of The
Month selection of the MOO newsletter MOO-JUICE, when it appears.
Updates follow as GNU Cults are discovered. PREFACE IV
As Written By
Counciltwit Confuse-Ius
1. What Are The Councils?
The Councils of MOO ("Counci. of MOO" for short) are a loosely
connected group of spam fnord organizations whose purpose, set down
many millennia ago in ancient Atlantis by our founder Confuse-Ius,
is to guard the Church of MOO ("Churc. of MOO" for short) against
the vicious threat of the CapriCancers ("viciou. threat of the
CapriCancers" for short). Our secondary purpose is to keep the
Churc. of MOO alive at any cost, and to maintain the proper degree
of fanaticBLATT, so as to resBLATTT any future viciou. threats that
might arise.
Spam: What are the CapriCancers?
Spam.
2. What are the CapriCancers REALLY?
Spam.
3. No, I mean it, WHAT THE HELL ARE THE CAPRICANCERS, YOU SPAM?
The CapriCancers are a group of Devianti AstrologBLATTTs, who
all claim to have been born under the signs Capricorn and Cancer,
simultaneously. This is an article of faith among them, since they
were all actually born under Saggitarius.
Their leader, Capricious Cancerous, is an immortal space alien
artifact from the planet Zorn in the galaxy of Andromeda. It
crashed in the XBLATTT flying saucer which delivered the sentient
supercomputer WOMBAT to Earth. It is not known how a Zorn was able
to sneak aboard an XBLATTT saucer, but it is suspected that it was
able to cloak the bioscanners by using its lifelike appearance
(sculpted from chiseled spam) to fool WOMBAT. If true, this makes
Capricious Cancerous the only known living being to ever fool this
powerful computer.
This has led to the suspicion that WOMBAT actually works for
the CapriCancers, which has yet to be confirmed or disproved.
The CapriCancer threat to the Churc. of MOO lies in the fact
that Capricious Cancerous is now known to have been an infiltrator
in the ancient Atlantean sect of MOOism founded by Grate Prophet
Peng-Peng, and was, in fact, one of those who helped uncover the
WOMBAT computer from its hiding place in the Gobi Desert. It is
suspected that Capricious Cancerous is, in fact, The Miraculous
One, of the original Church Of MOO, and, therefore, J.R. "BOB"
Dobbs. But this is only speculation.
The reasons behind the CapriCancer Conspiracy are unclear,
however. The Conspiracy ("The Con" for short) is an anti-MOO
organization, denounced by "BOB" Dobbs in what is now believed, by
serious MOOish scholars, to be one of the greatest bluffs of all
hBLATTTory, since "BOB" is now presumed to be behind The Con almost
entirely. Whatever the motives of this conglomeration of Space
Bankers, Vampire Potatos, Illuminati Groups, and Coathanger Repair
Conpanies which control all businesses, governments, and 90% of the
human minds in the world, they are out to get every MOOist they can
lay their hands on.
And like it or not, if you're reading this, you're a Fateor of
MOO, and they're after YOU.
4. No, really, what ARE the CapriCancers?
Spam.
5. Why are the Councils so Fanatical?
Well, look at it this way.
Two kids are arguing over a cake. "BOB" wants all of it, and
Floyd wants to share it equally between the two of them. They
whine and bitch about it for a while, until finally an adult called
Fred wanders up, and says "Why don't you compromise? "BOB" gets
three quarters, and Floyd gets one quarter."
Well, it's a compromise between what they SAY they want...
But it doesn't really satisfy which is more FAIR.
IT ISN'T FAIR! IT'S JUST NOT FAIR!
DAAAAAD! "BOB" GOT MORE CAKE THAN I DID! HE GOT A BIGGER
PEICE! DAAAAAAAAAAD! DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!!!!!!!!!
Urm. Ahem.
Sorry.
Anyway, the point is, if you want to get anything done in this
world of compromise, you have to be fanatical, and go to extremes
about everything, even if you don't believe in them.
Or, put it another way. Like, everyone keeps brainwashing you
(especially those CapriCancers, with their WOMBAT brain-control
satelites and FLUORIDATION of DRINKING WATER, and those Commies,
and the Nazis on the far side of the moon, and... and...), so if
you act fanatical and brainwash yourself, even if it's into the
things they're trying to convince you of, it'll all sort of balance
out, AS LONG AS you do it for EVERYTHING you believe. Go
overboard.
That the Council's way of Doing Things.
The Tao of Bitching.
6. What Councils Are There?
There are five main councils, and umpty-ump zillion little
councils. The five main councils you really ought to look into
joining if you want to protect yourself from those vicious
CapriCancers are these.
A) Council Of MOOist Intelligence
This council has been seditiously attacked by Caprious
Cancerous himself as a contradiction in terms. But it isn't.
Honest.
Spam spam spam. FNORD!
The purpose of the Council of MOOist Intelligence is twofold:
to increase the average intelligence of MOOists, and to gather
information on the activities of CapriCancer forces throughout the
world.
This council is headed by Confuse-Ius (not ME, HIM), and its
members wish to remain anonymous. The names of the ringleaders,
changed here to protect the innocent (and the guilty) are Ann
O'Nymous, Anno Nymous, A. Nonymous, and Ann O'Nymity. There are a
maximum of 666 members of the Council of MOOist Intelligence at any
one time.
B) The Council of MOOist Mind Control
Since the forces of CapriCancer have their own orbiting Mind
Control Satelites, the Lurch of BOO has decided to set up its own
council for the purpose of brainwashing BACH everyone it can.
In fact, it has been speculated that the SubGenius/Conspiracy
orbiting WOMBAT satelites have so corrupted the minds of EVEN THE
SMIRCH OF GLUE ITSELF that not only does it perform that evil and
heretical act of making fun of itself, but it ACTUALLY allows the
WOMBAT supercompter INSIDE its own archives, brainwashed by
constant mind control satelites into believing that the WOMBAT
supercomputer is a MOOist, and not an XBLATTT.
Which is silly.
The chairbeing of this council is the Late Great Brian
O'Blivious Esq. The ringleaders are made of chiseled spam, and
stick cucumbers up their noses on thursdays, because such is the
divinely revealed word of the saviour O'Blivious. There are
indefinite spaces for positions on this council for anyone willing
to be subjected to a little brainwashing, using the advanced GNU
MOOish brainwashing machine known as VOMBAT, which was discovered
by Brian O'Blivious in the Gobi Desert near a large rendition of
the Sacred Glyph of MOO.
C) The MOOist Military Council
This council is the military council of MOO.
Information was not forthcoming from councillor CENSORED, who
was most unhelpful. The propaganda information which follows below
was released with his kind permission, but it more or less
irrelevant to a real understanding of what's going on in this, the
most mysterious of the five primary councils of MOO.
Slogan: Have GNU will travel.
Purpose: Defeat the CapriCommies on their own ground.
Weapons: Powerful semiautobiographical machine-gnus.
Victories: Many.
Losses: Few.
Brainwashing: Just a rumour.
This information may, however, help to explain the mysterious
sightings in Arkasas and Siberia of large lumbering metallic
wildebeest-like animals murmuring platitudes about their
childhoods.
7. How Can I Join The Councils?
Send a Stamped Self Addressed Envelope addressed to the
Councils of MOO, along with $10 membership dues, to:
The Councils Of MOO
c/o SubGenius Foundation
P.O. Box 140306
Dallas Texas, 75214
or
The Councils Of MOO
c/o Church Of MOO
P.O. Box 26038
72 Robertson Rd.
Nepean, ON, Canada
K2H-9Y8 PREFACE V
as written by
the Elite High Councilors
of MOO, the Cardinal Richelieus
The 14 Commandments
These are the Commandments of MOO as drawn from the many Books of
MOO and here set down in a concise format. Prosecutors will be
violated, and vice versa.
00001. MOO!
00002. Thou shalt have fun
00003. Thou shall light fires
00004. Thou mayest partake of human flesh
00005. Thou shalt not post overly meaningful messages
00006. Thou shall respect, in thy own way, the teachings of
those more hip than thou
00007. Thou shalt not take writen documents at face value
00008. Thou may worship other, lesser gods and still value the
word of the Cow
00009. Thou shall burn
00010. Thou shalt not read aloud the full name of the Grate Prophet
00011. Thou shalt not abuse, snack upon, taunt or draw upon the
members of the Elite Upper Counsel of MOO
00012. Thou shall post in area 9, the Mint NES, or thou shall face
some great misfortune
00014. Thou shalt not eat the money of the High Preest of MOO
00015. Thou shalt ignore Commandment 15, for it doesn't exBLATTT.
00016. Thou shalt 'njäqþlfË8`ÖUà#¾þ^èT»þK-I£lLÜPìË-@ü
PREFACE VI
As Written By
Ann O'Nymous
This is me the futurBLATTT now.
Westward urge of civilization. Domestication of farm animals
and primates. Floating free. Space cities. Japan-bashing?
Look, civilization started in China. That's where all this
stuff began, and everyone over there who was GNU and INNOVATIVE
built a great society with wonderful architecture, philosophy,
science (they discovered GUNPOWDER, didn't they?) and lots of neat
little wicker baskets. So what? So after a while the GNU and
innovative stuff got to be old hat. I mean, something that's GNU
now will be old in a hundred years. So the GNU and innovative
people were surrounded by old crap and people who liked the OLD
ways. So they wanted to leave. There was an ocean to the east,
and and ocean to the south, and frozen wasteland to the north. So
they went west. On the whole, a wise move, since horses have
trouble swimming seas.
So then the same thing happened farther west. GNU innovators
poured in, brought GNU ideas, built a great civilization, and then
it became old, and the innovators died off. They couldn't go east,
cause that was even OLDER AND STUFFIER. There was still Sibera to
the North, and desert or ocean to the south. So they kept going
west. This happened EVERY generation, so the GNU ideas, the
advance of, well, advancement, went westwards, so that the east got
older and older, while staying EXACTLY THE SAME. Cause the world
changed.
Anyway, it eventually got to Europe from the middle-east and
then Greece and then Rome... And after Europe, it went to North
America. GNU York, then things like Chicago, then California
became the wonderful GNU Haven O' Science. In the '60s. But the
WAVE was going faster (on account of the first people went on
horses, and the GNU ones went on JUMBO JETS!) They kept going west
because, well, it was like a tradition. Which is strange, because
they were supposed to be innovators. But never mind that. Anyway.
After California, the Haven O' New-Guys moved to Japan. Which
is why all that Made In Japan stuff is now so great in the
135560's.
But there's old-fogeys and there's new-fogeys. Old-fogeys
don't like GNU stuff, and they're REAL territorial about it. Like,
major, dude. I'll get to that in a sec. So this is why the OLD
LOSERS go around JAPAN-BASHING. Not cause the Japanese are evil or
anything, but because they're AFRAID TO ADMIT THE JAPANESE ARE
BETTER NOW! Get real, people. It won't last forever. But Tim
Leary caught on in the Starseed Transmissions his brain sent to
itself (pretending to be an alien) in the '60s... It said the
Japanese were the most superior beings on the planet, and that we
were to leave the planet to rejoin the stars and stuff like that
there. Neat, huh? Well, he was right about both, only excepting
that the Japanese aren't like, INHERENTLY better. Just right now
they are. But that Westward Urge will end as they take us to
space. The Japanese have plans for permanent colonization of Mars,
dude... Pretty quick it'll be the EARTHIANS who are the old-
fogeys. So sign up for space cities now before your brains
calcify.
I mean, it's just classic primate stuff, right?
Look, when our ancestors domesticated farm animals from wild
animals, they discovered certain things... Domestication has
physical effects, like removing hair from the animals, shortening
horns, claws, teeth and other dangerous stuff like that, making the
cow's udder bigger... stuff like that. But it doesn't change the
behaviour. Like, pigs still root in the ground, EVEN IF IT'S
CONCRETE! Chickens still scratch, even if there's no dust to bathe
in (feather cleaning stuff, don't worry) and things like that...
Oh, they're tamer, calmer, less likely to bash your brains out or
bite at your throat, but the same patterns of behaviour are still
there. Same with people. Domesticated apes. Less hair, stand up
straight, smaller teeth and claws, larger breasts on women, things
like that. But still apes in behaviour. Territory. I mean, walk
across someone's front yard in the United States and see if they
don't yell at you.
One difference between us and apes in behaviour is that we're
tamer, don't fight so much on a person-to-person basis. No, that's
why we have tanks and bomber planes. Shit, knife-fights are
DANGEROUS, maaaan. The other big difference is that we have WORDS
and IDEAS on a big scale. Being domesticated gave us time to let
us handle those words that the apes can only sort of vaguely string
together. That and we have better vocal cords. So territory sort
of extended into those, too. Tell someone his religion is wrong,
BLAMMO, you get blown away. Scope out Salman Rushdie if you don't
believe me. He didn't even INSULT the Muslims. They just sort of
THOUGHT he did, so KNEE-JERK, they up and blew him away. Or tried
to. They would have, too, if he hadn't hidden. Smart guy.
But territoriality was an evolutionary response to the limited
space of our environment here on Earth. Like Death was (no, no,
not BIRTH CONTROL, DEATH... much more sensible, right?)... When
we move off Earth, that instinct may go away... No more
ideological wars, no more fighting over stupid dumbshit things.
TRUE SLACK. Check out an explanation later of the Circuits of the
Brain. Neat... Get an EXPLORER circuit in the first one, NO
FIGHTING on the second, the third should develop better too (actual
communication between DIFFERENT PEOPLE! WHAT A CONCEPT!) What
with all this changing of circuits, what will we end up with?
A society of friendly, peaceful, innovative, incredibly
brilliant, morally relaxed, spiritually advanced people who don't
have to do menial work (got robots for that) living with the nearly
infinite resources of the universe to support them.
Sound neat? Good. Sign up now to join the first L5 colonies
in Earth Orbit, or better yet, move to Japan, convince them you
like them (they're paranoid about Japan bashers who want to kill
them all: go figure) and try to get in on the Mars Colony. With
any luck, and life-extension drugs, you'll still be alive and
kicking when it opens up.
You'll find a few things, when you move off Earth. The people
there are a lot nicer, a lot more like you, a lot friendlier. But
you'll spot something more important. Of all those people who
originally went up into Zero-Gravity, EIGHTY PERCENT of them had
whatcha call SPIRITUAL REVELATIONS. Which is cool.
Zero Gravity opens up those extra four circuits, like Robert
Anton Wilson keeps going on and on about. But I won't say what
opens Floyd's Top Secret (Honest) Ninth Circuit. It sure ain't
transferring consciousness out of the universe and into the
Multiverse, THAT'S FER DAMN SURE. It's nothing to do with
spreading your consciousness to other universes and escaping.
Nope. Nothing.
Confuse-Ius Sez:
"One of the warning signs of the end of the world is fast and
efficient postal delivery, generally delivering, perfectly intact,
any package you might send, in less than 12 minutes."
-Book Of Things, Chapter 12, Verse 17
But the best way to get this effect isn't with the
artificially-gravitized rotating space-cities of Gerard O'Niell.
Bah, HUMBUG! No, you need clear plastic BUBBLES floating in space
with air and water and stuff inside. So you can live in zero-
gravity without having to give up lakes and sky and clouds and
birds and things... All we need is a breakthrough in materials to
make 'em out of... Gotta be tough, resilient, electrically
conductive... Might wanna make a pooter out of it... Check out
Floyd's novella "Self Sufficient" for more details on the "Habitat"
idea... S'cool.
Anyway. The only problem is EM field resonance. (ACK! LONG
WORDS!)... THPTHPTHPTHPT! All it is is magnetic fields shuffling
back and forth... On Earth, where we evolved and we're used to,
the magnetic core and the magnetosphere resonate or vibrate at 7.83
cycles a second. And if your brain tunes to that or a multiple of
that (or a fraction), you start to resonate with it, and pick up
energy. That's what causes wierd effects on the Kirlian Photos of
meditating Gurus. That's what causes neat dreams (at half the
frequency, of course), that's what causes the rush of creativity on
certain kinds of drugs. So all you have to do is get the BUBBLE to
resonate at that, too... And the neat thing is, of course, you can
get it to be STRONGER, cause you have control. You don't have to
lose the "Earth Ties" to live in space. Earth Ties are just that
link you make every so often to that flux that's goin' down.
That's why we need to sleep. So we can dream. So we can make THAT
SPECIFIC KIND OF LINK. We evolved getting used to making it in
different forms all over, so we now need that to keep us smart and
clever domesticated primates.
But don't worry, in the bubble, EVERYONE will be a SUPERGENIUS
anyway, because of that third-circuit "clever" imprint. Plus which
the bubble can adapt to make the link with EACH PERSON ALL THE
TIME. It'd be like you're always high, you're always dreaming,
you're always meditating. YOU'RE ALWAYS LUCID.
Wicked idea, eh? No wonder the government is reluctant to go
to space. Imagine trying to lead a population of supergenius
dreaming dopers? Wow, maaan.
So sign up now. And don't forget to tell them where you read
this. That's ANN O'NYMOUS. A-N-N O-'-N-Y-M-O-U-S. In the
ANNOYING MIND DRUG OF MOO!
Okay. All right. Now then, what comes BEYOND that? Looking
to the BIG picture... What do we find?
Well, we've entered the area of MEME production. Memes are
the mental equivalent of genes: single units of thought, maybe an
idea, a tune, an image, whatever it happens to be. Meme evolution,
since it happens inside our brains, with simple little bits of
information, is much MUCH faster than gene evolution was back in
the primordial-soup days. There's so much more competition for
space. After all, in those days, there was lots of food and space
in the oceans, and the little DNA frags just multiplied and
multiplied, and sometimes divided, which was frequently the same
thing for them... But now, well, we only have so much space in our
heads, only so much attention we can pay to this bullshit.
So what's the deal? What's cooking, doc?
The creation of Usenet, Internet, Fidonet, and all the various
other computer nets around the world, along with MASSIVELY huge
Local Area Networks (LANs) with info-storage-space galore, all of
that combined together to make a fast-evolution forum for memes.
Someone throws out a package of memes, most of which will be
recycled, but combined in different combinations (that's sexual
reproduction, one thing that made genes evolve fast) for people to
look at and evaluate. That's Survival-Of-The-Fittest. Whatever is
the best adapted pack of memes (genome, in the gene-talk, or
memome, to coin a phrase, in meme-talk) will survive. All the
different areas are dedicated to evolving different kinds of meme-
packs in different subjects. Computers speed up meme evolution.
But memes mostly exBLATTT inside our heads, right? So what's
the logical step, if we want to increase the evolution of memes, as
all sensible neophiles would? We put our brains in the computers!
Well, there's lots of plans underway trying to figure out how
to do exactly that! There's stuff on copying neuron functions into
little computers made by nanomachines (teeny-weeny-speeny little
machines made of mechanical parts on the size of molecules) and
revving up brainspeed that way. Our rapidly expanding power of
computers (a factor of a thousand every twenty-three years or so)
means that by the 2030's, computers will have the power of a human
brain, and the nanotechnology being developed NOW will mean that by
the time that happens, we may be able to transplant the mind
DIRECTLY into the computers. And beyond that, as our computers get
faster and smarter, so do our minds, so we can design better
computers even faster, so it all accelerates. Our Artificial
Intelligence programs, when they get to be much smarter than we are
now, combined with nanotechnology manufacturers to make our GNU
brains faster than we can imagine today, we'll start being able to
REWRITE our own software, making ourselves smarter, better adapted.
We'll find that our semi-intelligent machine companions can
look after matters of our survivial much better than we ever could,
and as we get smarter and smarter, we'll be able to judge the
consequences of our huge projects more and more accurately, so
there will be much less of a problem with shortsighted lack of
planning causing environmental disasters. Even the eco-freaks
should agree with this vision of the future, or they don't
understand it.
Intelligence increase is all over, these days, with Smart
Bars, and Think Drinks, and Intelligence Increase Drugs popping up
all over, seemingly from out of the woodwork (or, more frequently,
laminated plasticwork). People pop pills, not just to get high,
but to make themselves SMARTER.
And that's just a hardware improvement... It makes more
neurotransmitters (the chemicals that your brain uses for
signalling between brain cells (neurons)), or increases the firing-
rate of the neurons, speeding up thought, or it makes your brain
able to use oxygen better, or provides nutrients, or any number of
similar things. Within 50 years, we'll be able to improve the
SOFTWARE of the brain, make ourselves Godlike Hyperintelligences,
like you always get in 3rd rate science fiction. But this time,
for real.
In the coming posthuman era, those technophobes that still
exBLATTT will just leave themselves behind as the rest of us
sensibly migrate off world, where our industry can't possibly fuck
up the environment. And once the first industry is up there, we
don't even have to use rockets that pollute the air! Just built
the huge brains with nanomachines up on the moon, and radio up our
personality program.
Vastly improved intelligence means much greater efficiency of
use of the resources. What Buckminster Fuller described as
"ephemeralization" will become a way of life. Using fewer and
fewer resources to do more and more things, just as we use a 5-
tonne communications satelite to do the job of hundreds of
thousands of tonnes of wires running to every home. The same will
happen in every facet of life.
Life itself will expand beyond our present ability to
comprehend. The advances currently being made in Virtual Reality,
teaching techniques, and brain development are showing the ability
to learn can be improved remarkably, especially once we discover
how the brain changes with GNU information, and are able to pump it
directly into the brain when needed. Each person will have instant
"memory" access to the collected knowledge of all humanity, all the
opinions of everyone else, a cross-cultural sharing ground that
defies our ability to comprehend.
Even Sex itself may vanish, as children may be created by
combining the parents' ideas and memes, along with their
preferences for the personality of the offspring. But don't
dispair of losing Sex. With an electronic personality, any sensory
inputs you want can be tailored, modified by other people, so you
can interact in any way you choose, without any risk of disease,
unwanted pregnancy, and all the problems that beset sex today.
Stop for a sec... Why, with all the advancement in
civilization, science, quality of life, are MORE AND MORE people
turning to various GNU religions? Because that's what "society"
is... People interacting together. With increase of quality of
life, they have more time and energy to devote to religion, rather
than survivial. So the consequence?
Just as computers are currently becoming the hot GNU medium,
just like books were once a hot GNU medium, MEME SYSTEMS will be
the hot GNU medium of the future. Crafting information structures
that resemble modern day belief-systems like RELIGIONS and
PHILOSOPHIES. Religion will be the art form of the future. Just
like books, paitings, sculptures, all used to be created lovingly,
one at a time, until they became accepted media, and spread
exponentially, so it is, has been, and will be with religion. Old
religions were crafted carefully, over many generations, each
person dedicated to only one.
In the future, our expanded minds will enable us to devote the
equivalent of a modern LIFETIME of effort to a religion in an idle
afternoon, each person will "believe in", or artBLATTTically
appreciate THOUSANDS or MILLIONS of religions in a lifetime, each
person adding their own perspective to the mix in the giant
networks of information.
Surely we'll also see the equivalent of pop-art, trash-art, or
comic-strips, and many other things for which we can HAVE no
analogies, because our art isn't complex enough to hold their
intricacies. Advertising slogans, billboard art, musical jingles,
all suggest what sort of commercial religions we might see. An
entire church dedicated to each GNU slogan for each GNU product
from each company, everyone exposed to them.
The possiblilties for the future are endless and far beyond
our current comprehension. For insights on what to look for in the
future, I can recommend science fiction books written by
knowledgeable authors, and books on futurBLATT of all kinds. Here
are a few of my favourite selections:
FuturBLATT Annoying Mind Drugs:
00001: Mind Children, by Hans Moravec
00002: Engines Of Creation, by K. Eric Drexler
00003: Virtual Reality, by Howard Rheingold
00004: Great Mambo Chicken & the Transhuman Condition, by Ed Regis
00005: Neuropolitics, by Timothy Leary
Science-Fiction Annoying Mind Drug Authors:
00001: Phillip Jennings (Tower To The Sky, Bug Life Chronicles)
00002: Rudy Rucker (Software, Wetware)
00003: Dan Simmons (Hyperion, Fall Of Hyperion)
00004: Bruce Sterling (SchBLATTmatrix, Crystal Express)
00005: Neal Stephenson (Snow Crash, Zodiac) PREFACE VII
AS COMPILED BY
El Cid The Dilligent
The CHURCH OF ELVIS is a sect of the Universal Life
Church and is looking for GNU minBLATTTers.
ABOUT MINBLATTTERHOOD
-- Is This For Real?
Yes, it is. The Universal Life Church will ordain anyone, for
life, no questions asked, and at no cost. The ordination is
legally valid, and, after regBLATTTering with local authorities,
ULC MinBLATTTers can legally perform weddings, funerals,
baptBLATTs, etc.
-- But I Have To Believe In Something Silly, Right?
Nope. The ULC doesn't impose ANY beliefs on it's MinBLATTTers or
their congregations. Your god is OK. Period.
-- Am I Making Any Promises?
Only one. A ULC MinBLATTTer agrees to do what's "right". You get
to interpret "right" to your satisfaction. No one will call to
ask for money. You're not joining a "cult." You're welcome
(encouraged!) to continue practicing whatever faith you like.
ULC MinBLATTTers are also Catholics, Episcopalians, MethodBLATTTs,
ELVIS Worshippers... you name it.
-- So How Do I Become Ordained?
Easy. Just fill out the simple form below, or call any
CompuChurch (tm) Chartered BBS and go to the Online Ordainments
Menu. Your info will be processed by CompuChurch (tm)
International Headquarters. CompuChurch will file your request
with the ULC, and you'll receive your credentials within a
coupla weeks. It's free, but we could use a stamp!
-- Still A Little Wary?
There's more information on the ULC at any CompuChurch (tm)
Chartered BBS, from The Church of Elvis or from CompuChurch (tm)
International Headquarters, 1:3800/6 or call direct at (504) 927-
4509.
BBSes are filled with ULC MinBLATTTers from all walks of life. Join
us!
* MAKE ME A MINBLATTTER!
Yes, this all sounds wonderful. I want to be a minBLATTTer, fully
ordained and authorized to do anything minBLATTTers usually do, and
entitled to the privileges and benefits extended to the clergy.
Name:
----------------------------------------------
Address:
----------------------------------------------
City State Zip:
----------------------------------------------
I am enclosing a self-addressed stamped envelope to make life
easier for you!
SEND TO:
Church of Elvis
Diocese of Baton Rouge Universal Life Church
P.O.Box 64575
Baton Rouge, LA 70896
From: Zodiac Mindwarp
To: All
Subj: TLC
Greetings fellow Earth dwellers...
Are you aware that the Illuminati are attempting to take over
control of the world? Do you know about their plans to form a One
World Government?
Maybe you do, maybe you don't. Maybe the Illuminati is
nothing more than a paranoid myth. Whatever the case and whatever
your beliefs, you may wish to consider joining the Thought
Liberation Committee.
What is the Thought Liberation Committee?
TLC is nothing more than a group of individuals who share a
single, common idea. Anyone can be a member of TLC if they wish;
there are no membership fees, no forms to fill out, no meetings to
attend, no rules to obey and any member is free to leave at any
time. There is no structure to TLC, heirarchical or otherwise. It
is quite possible to be a TLC member and never even meet another
TLC member.
What is the idea of TLC?
It is the idea that NO-ONE - be they a person (living or dead), a
commercial organisation, a non-commercial organisation, a charity,
a government, a religious group or even an extra-terrestrial
intelligence - has the right to tell anyone else how to think. TLC
rejects and actively fights against any attempt to control the
thoughts of an individual or group of individuals by any methods,
including (but not limited to); brainwashing, propaganda,
advertising, subliminal messages, misinformation and psychic or
telepathic manipulation.
How do you join TLC?
The qualification you require to become a Thought Liberation
Committee member is simple, but rigidly enforced. In order to
become a member of TLC you must WANT to become a member. That is
all it requires.
What must you do as a member of TLC?
As a member of TLC you aren't required to do anything. All that is
asked is that you attempt to recognise and reject any attempt to
subversively alter the way you think. You may, if you wish,
introduce others to the idea of TLC but this is purely optional.
What good is TLC going to do?
Maybe it will result in no more than assisting a small group of
people to be less vulnerable to thought manipulation. Maybe it
won't even achieve that. However, consider this - any attempt to
manipulate thoughts and opinions on a large scale requires a long,
slow, subtle effort. You can't change public opinion overnight but
if the ideas are introduced slowly enough they may manage to sneak
underneath the natural 'bullshit defences' that every person has.
These ideas will then, gradually, become accepted as 'normal', as
'obvious'... as 'fact'.
It is the hope of TLC that a small nucleus of people strong
enough and alert enough to reject this indoctrination of thoughts
will be sufficient to prevent it; a catalyst to initiate the large
scale rejection of this thought manipulation, the seed around which
may crystalise a growing movement of people who see it for what it
is.
Okay, suppose I join TLC. How do I start?
How do you start in your quest to recognise and reject thought
manipulation? Well the question of rejection is the simplest to
answer. To put it simply, once you have recognised the fact that
someone is trying to influence the way you think about something,
you have automatically rejected it. Once you are consciously aware
of the manipulation being attempted it is no longer able to get in
under your 'bullshit defences' and you are safe. Recognition is a
more difficult question to tackle. All the old cliches - "Think
for yourself", "Question what you are told", "Don't believe
everything you read in the papers/see on TV", etc. - are still
applicable. However these methods fail when it comes to the
subtler, more carefully orchestrated techniques. Thought
manipulation is at it's most powerful and dangerous when it is able
to go directly to the victim's subconscious, bypassing any
conscious filters the person may have. The systems that can be
used are many and varied, each one requiring a different approach
to detection. Unfortunately, TLC has very few answers here. Even
if we did we would be very reticent about sharing them - that would
make us guilty of the very thing we are trying to prevent...
TELLING PEOPLE HOW THEY SHOULD THINK!
Isn't this all just a bit paranoid?
Yes, and no. It is easy to see how someone who already suffered
from a certain degree of paranoia might see the idea of TLC as
being confirmation of their delusions. However, TLC does not ask
you believe that there are any sinister forces at work trying to
control public opinion. If you believe that, fine... it is your
right to freely believe whatever you choose to. The idea of TLC is
simply that you keep a watchful eye on whatever information you are
presented with in your daily life - just in case someone or
something, for whatever reason, tries to influence the way you
think.
Why was TLC started?
The reason for TLC inception is almost laughable. It was created
because it could be. It did not begin as a response to any
particular threat, real or imagined. It simply seemed like a good
idea, and in an age where electronic communication has made it
possible for ideas to be rapidly and widely disseminated it seemed
like an idea that deserved to be spread.
Are you going to finish this off with a conclusion?
Yeah, okay... Here's the conclusion. You can forget that you ever
heard of TLC if you want. If you like the idea of TLC and you want
to become a member, you're a member. If you want to spread around
the idea of TLC then by all means introduce the idea to anyone who
cares to listen. If you do then we just have a few requests to
make of you: Don't try to force the idea of TLC down anyone's
throat. Don't think of yourself as being in any way superior to
someone who does not accept the idea of TLC. And, lastly, try not
to let the idea of TLC become confused with or polluted by any
other idea. It is a single, simple idea and will hopefully remain
that way.
Zodiac Mindwarp -><- TLC
"I'll have a New World Order, please"
"Do you want fries with that?"
--- FMail 0.92
* Origin: (93:9130/103.7)
From: Floyd Gecko
To: Zodiac Mindwarp
Subj: TLC
I'm not actually writing this reply. This is a reply I might
have written if I'd had more time when I wrote my brilliant, witty,
but sparklingly short response to that message...
TLC strikes me as a lovely idea on one level, and maybe the
most insidiously dangerous idea I've ever encountered on another
level. It's a great idea... STOP TELLING PEOPLE HOW TO THINK, oh,
of course, how noble...
But then, isn't part of the whole purpose of life to change,
explore different ways of thinking, examine new viewpoints, and
otherwise poke around the Mindscape? And after all, every
experience you've ever had in some way affected the way you thought
from then on, if only because your new thoughts included a vauge,
compacted memory of those experiences. If some of those
experiences are caused by other people, then that's other people
affecting how you think. Maybe they intended to, maybe not. Maybe
their plan worked, maybe it backfired. Who knows?
The point is, all of society is like one enormous self-
modifying system, with every person interacting one way or another.
Occasionally, they'll start to form self-reinforcing groups that
eventually get called conspiracies. And sometimes those will try
to expand. That's only natural: the ones that don't try to expand
eventually get eaten up by the ones that do, wherever they compete
for membership. So it's only natural that an enclave of
organization whose whole nature depends on what people think, and
how, should take up trying to convince people to think its way.
And if you tell it not to, you're just telling it that it has
no right to exist. Same for a corporation. If you tell it it
can't advertise, you're saying people don't have the right to know
about its view of its products and the like. And that means it
hasn't got the right to accumulate money. Which means it has no
right to exist.
Now if you went around saying that sort of thing about HUMANS,
you'd be locked up for publishing hate literature.
So why are humans considered different from groups of humans?
After all, an individual is a lot smaller than a group, a lot less
complex. Why are things MORE complex than people considered
inferior, AND things LESS complex (like sponge) considered inferior
too?
Really, this TLC is nothing but a cleverly disguised hate
campaign against the neurologically decentralized. This from a
Discordian, yet, someone who claims to be in favour of
decentralization. Obviously, you have fallen victim to the Curse
of Greyface, the AnerBLATTTic Delusion, and other things of that
ilk.
A Conspiracy Government is a government which is mostly
detatched from the system it's governing, which means it has a
prayer of analyzing the system objectively without getting hung up
on a version of Gþdel's Theorem. That means that it's the ONLY
style of government, no matter what its exact format should be,
which has a hope of regulating the system effectively. It itself
would naturally have to be an anarchy, without government, or
governed by a cabal within a cabal...
Shame on you, for suggesting a Conspiracy should be suppressed
for the good of the people.
Shame shame shame.
All good people, unite against humanBLATTT prejudice!
--- Quaximus 2.01 beta
* Origin: (1:163/286.0)
PREFACE VIII
as written by
High Preest of MOO
Floyd Gecko the Stoopid
THE OFFICIAL GAMES OF MOO
There is nothing quite so important to a MOOist after a
hard day of having fun as kicking back, relaxing, and then playing
a good solid game. After all, how else can we remind ourself that
Eris made the world to play with. Why shouldn't we do the same?
So, without further ado, here are the official games of
MOO, which may be considered as daily worship. Of course, anything
else that's lots of fun is also worship, but hell, why not try some
of these first, eh?
00001) Nomic:
This game is designed to be bureaucratic. Recall that
one of the things we stand for is bureaucracy supporting. The full
set of rules is very long, but I may include it as Appendix VIII
later. The idea is you begin with an inital set of rules which
defines how the game is played.
The basic idea is simple. There are several players, and they
take turns making up GNU rules, which are then voted upon. MOOists
may, obviously, make their own initial set, but one good one can be
found in the source quoted somewhere else, so I won't mention it
here, not only to get you to read the whole Book of MOO, but
because I'm an ornery sunnuvabitch. Floyd Gecko, a longtime member
of the Nomic Club at his school, and one of the Co-Directors for
the upcoming year, has some suggestions for making your own initial
set.
Try to make provisions for everything you can think of, and
make sure that there isn't too much of a point to the game. The
set should be long, but not so long that you can't remember most of
what's in it. Three pages is about the maximum suggested.
Try to get it as bureaucratic with as many subclauses as you
can, and get restrictions, like (if this... unless... unless...)
and so forth.
Make some wierd numbering system, and rule ordering things that
don't make much sense.
Have fun with it. Get carried away.
00002) Calvinball
The opposite of Nomic. It has no real rules. The
idea comes from the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes. The game is
played with a ball, but that's about the only rule. As players run
around with the ball, hit it with sticks, or something, the other
players suddenly point out something they did, and say what they
have to do because of it.
This thing should be annoying to the person who has to do it.
The one rule is that unless it's really bad, or the person wants to
be a spoilsport, they should do the thing.
The game uses as much sport or game equipment as you can find.
This makes it easier to make stuff up. For example:
"You touched the croquet-hoop of poetry! Now you have to go up
to someone, recite a poem, and dump a bucket of water on your
head!"
"I got the ball to the baseball base! Now you have to stand on
your head and sing Yankee Doodle!"
And so forth... Have fun with it. Get carried away.
It's also real fun played with cards... Try to be the first
to win, but don't do it so early it's poor sport, eh? Nasty.
00003) Sink
A Discordian game. The object is to sink things. In mud,
water, tar, jello, whatever.
Objects are found by the players, and may be given names if the
players feel like it. Things are sunk in some manner, such as
throwing other things on top of them, pushing them, filling them
with water, etc.
Upon sinking something, the player who sunk it should yell "I
sunk it!", or something equally clever. They may also name the
object if it was given a name, thus making a statement like "I sank
Yukon!".
00004) Hide-And-Seek
This well known game is great fun if played by crack military
commando units, armed with laser-guided rifles, co-ordinated by
walky-talky, and let loose on the playing field of a great shopping
center.
Smaller versions are also fun, if less bloody.
00005) MAO
I can't tell you how to play this. It's against the rules.
WHOOPS! Shouldn't have said that.
Actually, here follow the rules of Mao. Encrypted, using Phil
Zimmerman's PGP encryption program, with an RSA-type encryption
system, using a key which we won't reveal to you now. It is
estimated (honest) that it would take you 20 billion years of
computer time (really) to crack this encryption (true!), but if you
really feel like it, go ahead.
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Enjoy.
PREFACE IX
As Written By
ConfusionBLATTT Confuse-ius
Ask not why the world is so confusing, but rather what
you can do to make it even more perplexing. INTRODUCING...
CRASH!
OPERATION MINDF*CK! (Whoa, them U.S. Pentagon types... They're
everywhere.)
Okay, so like, the point of the thing is to make everyone
confused fnord. Okay, so like, the point of the thing is to make
everyone confused fnord. Also, it's a good idea to make them
paranoid.
WATCH OUT! THE PARANOIDS ARE OUT TO GET YOU!
The paranoids are watching you... Why?
Just because they're paranoid doesn't mean you're not
out to get them... So SIC EM!
The point of Operation Mindfuck is that you just keep
doing confusing things. Make sure to contradict yourself in your
methods and victims... That way, if anyone finds out, they'll
sound paranoid.
"But officer, there are thousands of them, all trying
to confuse me! They've infiltrated the postal system, and they
threw mints on me!"
"Right. Blow into the little bag, will you?"
To get the maximum effect, try ganging up in large groups
of a hundred or so and do your best to confuse a single person.
This is highly effective fnord.
On the other hand...
It's nice and useful to operate in small groups. That way,
there's less chance of a leak fnord. So, you can operate quickly
quickly and easily fnord within the system fnord. Use the system
to your advantage. Some people will believe anything written on
official letterhead. Some people will do anything a MEMO tells
them to.
Photocopy letterhead, memo forms, and any FORMS FORMS FORMS
FORMS FORMS FORMS FORMS FORMS FORMS FORMS FORMSFORMSFORMSFORMSFORMS
FORMSOHOHOHFORMSFORMSFNORDFNORDFORMS that you can. Great for
clogging up the drainage pipes of some civil servant.
Let's take the classic example of I Yemen-Oying and
Floyd Gecko's great tour-de-force practical joke.
It's a spare period. They've got some time to waste.
Floyd cuts off the letterhead from an official memo, and gets this
bizarre look on his face. It's uncanny. Yemen asks what's up,
and soon catches on. It's a cool idea, eh?
They enter the computer room, and examine the typefont on
the official memo. Modern Schoolbook, 11 pitch, 1.5 spacing.
Terriffic. Floyd and Yemen construct a memo to go with their new
letterhead. A laserprint and 30 composite photocopies later, and
they have some passable imitations of a completely official looking
memo. Into the mailboxes it goes, sowing confusion and puzzlement
wherever it goes.
TO: All Staff
FROM: D.I. Macdonald, Principal
RE: Alien Invasion Of Lisgar
DATE: 9 April 1991
It has come to my attention that there has been an invastion of
this planet by beings of unknown origin. These beings, who have
been identified only as "Xennothemians" are identifiable by their
nasal pitched voice and greyish hair. Although it has been shown
that not all of them have exactly ten fingers, all those occupied
in the invasion force are, indeed, of this type.
Among people identified as belonging to this invasion force are
George Bush and our own Vice Principal Ian Grant. Therefore,
it is advisable that this memo not be given to him. Please take
all reasonable precautions in this area. Also, make all efforts
to prevent students from reading this memo, as it may cause
panic, and disruption of classes. This would alert Mr. Grant
to our suspicions.
The Alien Task Force have advised us to continue as usual as if
we were not aware of this fact, and to take all precautions against
Mr. Grant discovering our knowledge of his presense here. The
Task Force is now studying a specimen to determine the most
effective method of deterring these aliens, but for the moment,
please take no action.
Further memos may follow as information is provided to us.
So this memo enters the system. Slowly, surely, like a
river trickling into the ocean. Teacher after teacher gets a
copy. What the hell is this? Is it for real? Nah.
On the other hand... In that one-in-a-trillion chance,
*I* could be the one to blow everything...
Naah.
Unless...
Mr. Macdonald didn't really write this, did he? Better CONFUSE-ING INTER-RAPTURE #3.14159265358979323846
not show it to Mr. Grant... he might be upset. Except, of course,
that's just silly...
WELCOME TO OPERATION MINDFUCK!
With enough people putting in their own little ideas to The
Operation, it doesn't look like a conspiracy, it looks like a
damn mess, it what it looks like.
So... What can you do? Find another Confuse-ionBLATTT or
a DiscordianBLATTT or anyone who might like to go out and confuse
someone. Do whatever you like, big or little, great or small, huge
or tiny. Be it the most elaborate practical joke in hBLATTTory, or
merely "bleep"ing in the middle of a crowded theatre...
It'll do.
Oh, but wait! There's more! Ever hear of the CIA?
The KGB? The NSA? CSIS? CSE? What are they all for? Good
lord, nobody knows! As far as we can tell, they're out to
thwart each other! They're spreading false clues across half
the globe, inventing insanely complicated schemes to outwit
each other, getting hordes of people to gang up on other hordes,
and generally confusing the hell out of everyone.
It's so beautiful, I could almost cry.
Here's a hint. The more well known an intelligence
agency is, the less effective it is, on account of everyone
knows about it, so it ain't secret. Sure, you all know of
the FBI. But did you know they're one of the least effective
of the American intelligence agencies? Not so many people
know as much about the CIA, but they know it's more effective.
They just don't know why.
Oh, but did you know about the NSA? The National
Security Agency? Most people never even heard about it, but
hardly anyone knows that it's the single most effective agency
in North America, employing more than all others put together.
One time, a hacker broke into NSA computers, and instead
of prosecuting, which would have drawn attention to them, they
hired him, figuring it's safer to have him on their side than
to let the public know they exBLATTT by holding a big trial.
How about CSIS? Everyone knows they do a bad job.
Ever hear of the CSE? Hell, most people don't even
know it exBLATTTs, let alone the fact that it's almost as big
as the NSA. Canadian Security Elite, or something like that.
Hell, I don't even know what it STANDS for. But did you know
that it runs CSIS as a front, so nobody will suspect that
Canada actually has a top-notch intelligence force?
The KGB? NONSENSE! It's as much a front as CSIS, but
it's so effective, nobody KNOWS what it's fronting for!
Would it surprise you to learn that the FBI is a CIA
front? That the CIA is an NSA front? That the CSE is also an
NSA front?
No?
Well would you be surprised to find out that both the
NSA and whatever is hiding behind the KGB are BOTH fronts?
Why, you ask, WHAT FOR?
Simple. OPERATION MINDFUCK!
Or is it? Is there something else, something... hidden
behind the scenes, pulling strings like some giant puppetteer?
Nah, let's hope not... But what about the ancient society of
PHD? It's a three-letter acronym... And what does it stand
for, anyway? PHilosophy Doctor? Get real. That's a STUPID
acronym... But you never thought otherwise. See how effective
they are?
The more effective an intelligence gathering and fake
information spreading agency is, the less you know about it.
Even if you're working for it. ESPECIALLY if you're working
for it. Those PHD types don't even KNOW they're working for
a conspiracy; that PROVES how effective it is.
So obviously, the MOST effective is one you've never
even heard of, initials or otherwise. But if it's obvious, it
must be what they WANT us to think, obviously...
I love it, don't you?
Invent your own! Gather some people, get them to tell
you what's going on, and lie to everyone else. The more paranoid
they are, the better. If they ain't, well MAKE THEM PARANOID.
But it's interesting, isn't it, how MOOism,
ConfusionBLATT, QUACK!BLATT, DiscordianBLATT, OINKBLATT,
SubGeniusBLATT, and all them claim to contain the others?
In fact, they're all ConfusionBLATTTs... Yeah, that's it.
And, like MOOism, we accept any weird or twBLATTTed version of
ourselves that you choose to invent and call ConfusionBLATTT (or
MOOism), because A) we accept everything, and B) well fuck, it's
not like we could STOP you or anything. PREFACE IX«
As Written By
Anonymous Ann O'Nymous
THE OFFICIAL SEMI-SERIOUS HBLATTTORY OF ALL THIS MOO CRAP
Right. In the beginning there was the Psycho-Shoppe.
In it were lots of psychoes on sale, and nobody was buying it.
And there was Floyd and Halfy and Hellhound and Leper and all
them guys, and then Yemen showed up in a fit of static, line
noise, and a crappy modem that wouldn't print lower-case...
And in the midst of all this confusion, there appeared
a serene voice who refused to enter the inane conversations,
and said only one word all week.
And that word was MOO.
And the voice was Yari.
This was the first entry in the Gospel According to
Yari. There was a tense expectant pause. A week later, Yari
returned, saying it again, but with the addition "MOOing makes
you feel good, why don't you try it?"
So they did. And they liked it so much, that they
decided to be religious about it, and eat fudge on tuesdays.
And then they were all happy (all four of them) for several
days until Funky B. appeared and said it was stupid. Then
some of the nonaligned folks realized that maybe it was,
missing entirely the point that it was supposed to be.
And they became the "Anti-MOOs" for a long time, and
I Yemen-Oying was one of them. And they didn't eat fudge.
Then finally, one day, one of them, maybe it was
Overkill-4-Breakfast, decided it was time they had a real
name, that didn't make them sound like they were related to
MOO in any way. They debated for a few days, and QUACK was
chosen as the most mocking of the whole barnyard-animal-noise-
making-religion thing. And I Yemen-Oying, being the one who
came up with the name, was made the semi-kinda-sorta-a-little-
bit-leader.
And it was about this time that the Halfy was chosen
as the symbol for MOO, though the QUACKs lagged behind many
months in the chosing of a symbol.
Eventually Abacab appeared in the MOO circles and toyed
with the idea of becoming a MOOist until he came, by virtue of
no organization at all in the QUACKs, their Profit, and he led
them, with I Yemen-Oying as the Most Honorable Duck, for many
months, still having no symbol. And they did most heinously
create BushBashes, kicking out MOOists (or trying to; the MOOists
were armed to the teeth) and saying in their annoying mind drug
"MOOists are abnormal and evil and we hate them" and "We will
always obey the laws of this country" and other silly things,
little realizing that that was exactly what Floyd, Halfy, and
Hellhound had in mind... (Though to be honest, Hellhound was a
DiscordianBLATTT throughout all this.)
Eventually, as told in the Book Of Quack, Abacab saw
ome kind of light, read the Book Of MOO, got drunk, and decided
to make his cult a subsect of MOO. I Yemen-Oying hated this
idea, and made threatening noises from the back of his throat,
little realizing what was to come.
Inevitably, the inevitable happened, as the inevitable
inevitably does, despite all the inevitable attempt to evit it.
After much heated argument, there became two splinter factions of
QUACK, as was bound to happen with any rigid, inflexible religion.
The first, led by Abacab, is the one described in the
big Book Of Quack, enclosed in this Book Of MOO. The second,
led by I Yemen-Oying (well, sorta) has yet to write an annoying
mind drug, and we know little about them, except that they act
exactly like MOOists and ConfusionBLATTTs most of the time, except
when they insult MOO, when they're usually not as violent as most
MOOists.
This subsect, calling itself the REAL QUACK, or some
such thing, mostly disappeared, because few of them had modems
and even fewer had the time to launch a full-scale crusade.
On top of which there were fewer than ten of them.
We have yet to find their official annoying mind drug for
inclusion in this one.
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĿ
³ ÉÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍϻ
³ º º
³ º ANNOUNCING A GNU CONTEST FROM THE CHURCH OF MOO! º
³ º º
³ º We are looking for a phrase to replace the one at the º
³ º bottom of this box, as the most mumbo-jumbBLATTTic º
³ º "Alternative Scene" catchall-buzzphrase for the '90's, º
³ º and we need your help! º
³ º º
³ º If you can find a phrase, sentence, word, or other º
³ º semantic THINGY, which has greater comic potential as º
³ º pure Establishment mockery of the "Counter-Culture" º
³ º then please send it to us so that we can use it to the º
³ º point of media saturation. Winners will be printed º
³ º in upcoming editions of MOO-JUICE, the official º
³ º GNUsletter of the Cardinal Richelieus... º
³ º º
³ º Current Catchall: "CybershamanBLATTTic Techno-Pagan" º
³ º Category: Adjective Submitted By: Floyd Gecko º
ÀĶ º
ÈÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͼ
PREFACE X
As Written By
Counciltwit Brian O'Blivious
Halo Q«
The Economics Of MOO
Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, in a land not so very
far from here, there lived a group of self-domesticated apes.
These apes were very much cleverer than most apes, and they had
learned how to domesticate animals. The first animals they had
ever domesticated were themselves, which was why they were so
clever and not as violent as their ancestors had been.
Then they began to domesticate other animals, like wolves,
which they turned into daschunds and poodles and yorkshire
terriers. And they domesticated wildebeests, and turned them into
holsteins. And they sort of domesticated the ferocious bobcats,
and turned them into manxes and tabbies.
But mostly they domesticated wildebeests.
And the self-domesticated apes made the domesticated
wildebeests grow milk for them, and get fat on special kinds of
domesticated grass, domesticated especially to feed domesticated
wildebeests. And eventually they got these animals, which are now
called cows, to be so fat and milk-ridden that it was even possible
to eat their meat almost all the time. And so the domesticated
apes began to gather large numbers of these cows together in herds.
A herd of cows?
OF COURSE I'VE HEARD OF COWS!
And finally it came to pass that these tame apes, called
humans, got themselves together and domesticated each other, and
not just themselves, and they got to the point where they could
stand to be with more than ten or twenty other tame apes at a time
without killing them. And so they started to move into big
domesticated rockpiles called cities.
And soon they noticed that they couldn't keep cows in the
domesticated rockpiles, and so they started wanting to get cows
from the tame apes who still lived out with the cows. And so they
started to give things in exchange for cows, like domesticated
boars (pigs) and domesticated chickens (chickens), which they could
grow in the cities. And eventually this got just too inconvenient.
And so eventually, as always happens when you get a bunch of
similar things together that can act according to what happens to
them, the tame apes started to form groups and bunches, like
bunches of bananas, or flocks of birds. And the bunches were
strong enough that each individual tame ape couldn't really do very
much unless the bunch agreed. And this was okay, because it kept
them from killing each other. And these bunches of tame apes were
called governments and religions, and today we call them
corporations and organizations, too.
Before long these bunches realized that they could trust one
another, because otherwise someone would get hurt very badly by the
special not-so-tame apes that the bunches kept, which were called
police, and armies. So they started making bits of metal, mostly
gold, that they could give each other as a promise to pay them some
cows, which was what they used to trade with in those days.
This was such a good idea that they eventually gave up with
the trading in for cows idea, and started to worship the Gold the
way they'd once worshipped the cows, and even today a lot of people
think it's primitive to worship cows, without ever realizing why.
So eventually the tame apes worshipped the almighty dollar instead
of the almighty MOO, which was okay, but maybe a little silly,
because of what happened afterwards.
What happened afterwards was something like this. The
different bunches had different kinds of gold, with different
stamps on them, which were used to show that it was really from the
right bunch, and you could actually trust it. Some of those
bunches, called banks, teamed up with other bunches, called
governments, and started a special kind of system that let them
invent money out of nothing, even if there wasn't enough gold to
make it real, and certainly if there weren't enough cows, because
they'd started using money for things besides cows by now.
So this system was very good, they thought. Instead of making
stamped bits of gold, you'd make paper with the promise to pay
stamped bits of gold, that promised to pay in cows. That way, you
could give even more money than you had gold, if you knew you were
going to get more gold, or more cows, or more ANYTHING that you
could trade for gold or cows.
The banks, which thought THEY controlled money, would give
some to the governments, getting a promise from the governments to
give it back, with a little extra for all the inconvenience. And
the governments, which thought THEY controlled money, would
"licence" the banks to do this, and then print up more paper so
that they could pay it all back. Because the governments KNEW that
they'd be able to get more money from things called "Taxes", which
was a certain amount of money that they'd take from the people they
"governed".
So this made them able to make more and more money as they
found more and more things to spend it on, until there was more
money than there was gold to back it up, and FAR more money than
there were cows.
And so people spent money, and the faster the money got spent,
the faster other people got money, and the faster the government
got taxes, and the more money they could make, and so there got to
be more and more and more money as people did things that other
people wanted to give them fake-cows for, like building things, or
selling things.
And the faster the money went around, the more of it there
was, until there was too much money to be spent all on these little
bits of paper, and so they had to come up with a GNU system of
keeping track of their imaginary cows.
And the GNU system was very good, because they had realized
what they had been doing all along, which was replacing things with
information that represented things. And so they replaced the bits
of paper with numbers on it with the numbers by themselves, and the
banks became even more powerful, because they kept all the records
that made sure that all the numbers were in the right columns so
that everybody had the right number of imaginary MOO-cows "in the
bank".
But there wasn't actually any money "in the bank", at least
not on paper. This was because the government allowed the banks to
invent imaginary money, by giving more money on loan to people than
they actually had ever been given, because the people would
eventually pay it back, with a little extra "interest". And so the
tame apes didn't need money any more, and they could just play
around with numbers on paper to keep track of how many cows they
had, and the cows could just go about their business getting killed
by the tame apes to get eaten.
And this was more or less good, until some tame apes invented
the idea that the money didn't really mean anything if it was just
numbers, and not things like cows and pigs and chickens and cars
and computers and houses. So these tame apes didn't like the
system of "Credit Cards", because they thought it gave the banks
too much power, and that other tame apes could get to the computers
that held the numbers and change them. Which was a silly thing to
worry about, because they already thought that the money didn't
mean anything.
But they were loud enough and annoying enough that eventually
a tame ape somewhere came up with an even better idea. This was
very complicated-sounding, but it was very good. Instead of having
someone keep track of your numbers, the tame ape said, you keep
track of them yourself, in a way that can't been faked.
And this tame ape invented a system that used "smart cards"
and "computer chips" that used a special mathematical coding system
called "RSA encryption coding" that couldn't be broken except by a
special system, and built that system into the cards.
This was good, because it meant that everyone could carry
around a card that had the records of how many imaginary cows they
had, and nobody could change it, because nobody could break the
code. And each card had special circuits in it that would make
sure that only the person who knew what number to put into it could
make the circuits change the numbers of imaginary cows, and then
only when it was connected to another card. That way, the tame
apes could give each other imaginary cows in exchange for real
things and services, but nobody could steal money from anyone else.
This was also good, because it meant that governments couldn't
invent money any more, or take it away from people in "taxes", and
people could be free to spend money as fast as they wanted, and
other people would get money, and the people they worked for would
get more money, until the money was moving fast enough that anyone
could get anything they wanted.
Unfortunately, most people didn't understand how this system
could work, because they didn't realize that it didn't matter how
many imaginary cows there were in the land, as long as everyone
agreed on how much one was worth, so they could get more and more
things to spend money on. So this system has never been used yet.
Which is really a crying shame. Halo Z.6
Brainwashing And You
As Written By Accident
(a.k.a. Counciltwit Brian O'Blivious)
Hear the word of MOO!
Jah, mon. You have been brainwashed by the corporations. Do
you think your opinions aren't shaped by the media? By what you
see on the IdiotBox/BoobToob/TellerVision? You think you're free?
Well, whatever.
It's just standard economics. They gotta sell commercial
time, yes? So they gotta say what the Sponsors wanna tell you.
And the sponsors tell you what makes you a happy camper, a
brainwashed drone for reasonless contemptible...
Hey, cool song lyrics.
Well, anyway. The point is, this ain't conpiracy theory, it's
just plain old ordinary economics. Making a profit.
To make a profit, you have to subdue the prophet in each of
us. The prophet finds its own truth. The drone accepts consensus
reality. And buys Rasinettes. A sort of sidewash backlash
overspill effect of this tendency to improve their own profits is
that they don't be wanting our money to collapse into
worthlessness, recognized for the fake version of a fake version of
a fake version of a cow it has come to be COW. So they don't want
the government system to collapse.
So you gotta like the sytem.
But of course, they don't control everything. That's why
there's actual genuine anarchBLATTTs out there (0.007% of the
population)... But the MediaCorps like to chun out pretend
anarchBLATTTs, to discredit them. And it ain't hard. They just
have to make ya swallow the line that "rebels is kool". So they
use the rebels to sell everything from cars to diapers to canned
tuna. And there's nothing wrong with that.
Don't they have the right to preserve themselves? It's done
in self defense. Without profits, they'd die. And a corporation
has just as much right to life as a human does. It's just our
prejudice that says only spacially-localized information patterns
have the "right to life".
So SWALLOW the line, and support your local corporation.
Some people call this conspiracy theory. But like I said, it
isn't. It's just prefectly normal corporate drives. And there's
nothing wrong with that.
The end result is that when you have money (which you have to,
or everything gets really crowded with all that COW-exchange going
on), you automatically get brainwashing. That's why so many people
in this country, and scads of others, are wandering drones of the
system, controlled from birth by the media to be what they want us
to want them to want us to be.
They may not THINK they're drones, and really, in most ways,
they aren't. It's just the underlying structure that gets trimmed
a little away from the sensitive areas, like "smash da system,
dude" and the like.
"But this CapriCancer/Illuminati/W.O.M.B.A.T./Xennothemian
threat is managed by the MEDIA. By TELEVISION, for heaven's sakes!
How can that possibly have any effect on what we THINK? I don't
see the connection."
These days, the television is the retina of the mind's eye:
kids can't imagine without one. Therefore, the television screen
is part of the physical construction of the brain. Therefore,
whatever appears on the television screen is absorbed as raw
experience and opinions by those who watch. There's oodles of
evidence. I mean, kids buy more of those TV-show inspired posable
plastic figurines than you can shake a lamb's tail at. Then they
can't figure out what to do with them, and they sort of sit there
gathering dust. The excitement is gone in the shake of a stick.
But they keep going back.
The TV gives you prepackaged bits of opinion, viewpoint,
information. The human mind, like any other dynamic system, takes
the route of least resBLATTTance. Except for those with feedback
mechanBLATTs to make it EASIER to think independently than to be
lazy, EVERYONE takes those opinions for truth.
The voice of now.
"But... But... The dang fascBLATTT right-wing government
always complains that the media is so liberal and pinko and
everything."
Well, yes, but they define just how liberal you're allowed to
get. Noam Chomsky complained about that once. People just aren't
willing to take him seriously. WHY? Because he's more left-wing
than the media.
Well, fuck, so were the hippies. Nobody took them seriously,
and they eventually got brainwashed into not expressing their
opinions any more. Well, lots of them did. Well, some of them
did. Well... Uhhh... You know what I mean.
Plus which, liberal media aren't so liberal as to want to
overthrow the system, which is what they're trying to prevent.
They offer you "alternatives" like Democrat and Republican, like
PC, Liberal and NDP.
Oh yeah.
"I can't see the difference. Can YOU see the difference?"
"Price is the difference."
Yes, that's right. Read my lips. No... New... Taxes...
So by giving you these few little options, all of which are in
favour of slow reform of policies, and not revolting against
anything except maybe their month-old tomatoes at the back of the
fridge, they give you the impression that that's all there is to
it.
Plus that, of course, the "liberal" media isn't so liberal as
it might look. Oh, sure, they give you the impression that
someone's looking out for those dangerous Nazis in Parliament, or
whatever. But isn't that really the point?
They LOOK like they're under control. It LOOKS like you're
being given an objective and critical look at the system.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!
Excuse me. I just had to get that out of my system.
In fact, the only purpose they serve is to give the
conservatives something to react off to get MORE conservative, and
the liberals something to feel complacent about. It's a perfect
method of preserving the system.
But that's nothing to get upset about.
It's just perfectly reasonable economics. I wouldn't get
upset if I were you.
Everything's fine.
Time goes by.
In time, you'll find...
Everything is just fine.
Halo P2
Politicos Of The World
As Written By
Councilgoof Brian O'Blivious
All across this great country of Theirs, the truth becomes
more evident by the second. The keyboard is mightier than the
sword, but only at range. It ranks a close second to the bazooka
when it comes to sheer devastation of personal lives. But what's
the point, really?
What I mean is, why bother trying to change the world by
writing about it (like I'm doing now) when you can change the world
by DOING something about it? Go out there and help make the world
a better place, where we can all live in peace and harmony, and all
be exactly the same as everyone else! C'mon, together we stand,
divided we fall! Kick ass for Jesus!
I'd rather be brainwashed by a government than by myself.
With a government, you can look at its motives more or less
objectively, even when you've been brainwashed. If you brainwash
yourself, what kind of a hope have you got to look at the results?
How are you supposed to figure out if you're what you wanted to
make yourself want to want to be, or whether that just what you
WANT yourself to think?
Besides, you can't really "pull the wool over your own eyes".
It doesn't work that way. Everything you delude yourself with,
every time you try to take control of your own destiny, you're
acting based on stuff that's happened to you. Your input from the
environment around you. And it's a self-modifying, complexly
interacting system, too. By any reasonable definition of the word,
it's an intelligent entity. Just one whose motives we're not even
CAPABLE of understanding. Who knows what it might want you to
think?
Better to be brainwashed by friends. A small group of
friends. That way, you can all monitor each other sort-of-a-
little-bit objectively, and see where it's all going. That's our
GNU politics of the GNU Reality.
I mean, if we all try to live together in harmony, we'll have
to make sacrifices to avoid treading on each other's toes, and
generally making pains in the asses of ourselves. We have to give
up our ideas, our beliefs, our styles, or we'll end up getting
pissed off at one another. And that wouldn't be any good. That's
destroying the manifestation of information. When the information
is genetic, that's called murder. You wouldn't want to be a party
to murder, would you?
Even if you would, you wouldn't fit in too well in a
harmonized society either, come to think of it.
That's why we're Neo-Tribal AnarchBLATTTs. Every little group
that can live together without killing each other should separate,
and go its own little way. Before too long, this will be
technically feasable. You can live in the privacy of your own
home, getting your food-and-shelter monkey by working from there
by pooter/modem, talking by the datanet to people in your Tribe.
Or, if you're an anti-tech Tribe, you go live on a commune
somewhere, in the GNU World Disorder that will let you do that
without trying to screw you over, like they did in the Bad Old
Days. Or, if you LIKED the Bad Old Days, and you WANT to go out
annoying other Tribes whose worldviews don't mesh with yours, you
can go fuck yourself, and if I ever meet you, I'll kill you.
If there's anything I can't stand, it's intolerance. Halo à TýûVé
Privacy And Anarchy
As Written By The Way
(a.k.a. Counciltwit Brian O'Blivious)
Privacy is at an end! The Government is watching you from
inside your T.V. set! Computers will take away your rights of
freedom!
Well, maybe. One thing that most people wouldn't deny is that
computers and networks and "other damn stuff like that" is an
empowering technology. For now, as of the time I'm writing this,
there's no reason to believe that the trend towards empowering tech
will stop. Rapid information sharing systems like the Usenet (a
sort of abstract informational thing that piggybacks in the large
Internet hardware the way your mind piggybacks on your brain) and
Fidonet (as of now, the largest AMATEUR network, linking upwards of
20000 individual pooter systems around the world), these all have
a way of distributing information in a way that simply can't be
stopped.
The only way a government of today could control the leaking
of "potentially dangerous information" out of the country is to
actually cut all the phone lines, jam all satellite linkages, and
make sure that nobody has access to a HAM radio. But that's just
not practical. People wouldn't stand for it, for one thing. þI
mean, how would you feel if the government suddenly, and for no
readily explained reason, suddenly cut all phone lines coming from
your house just because you have access to information? Any large
scale attempt to do that would result in, well, a revolution. It's
just not possible any more. The possibilities of data compression
and encryption (especially using RSA-type public key encryption,
for which the encryption and decryption keys are separate) make
actual monitoring of e-mail and file transfer impossible.
Funky software allows the gimpy people who write detructo-viri
(that blow up your compooter when they get inside, or otherwise
mangle things, rather than playing music, leaving irritating notes
on your screen, and so forth) to alter their own informational
signature jacket by self-compiling, encrypting and compressing,
like the common cold virus alters its protein jacket. This,
combined with annoyingly well-designed modular programming wares
for virus-production (the Tinkertoy of cracker-hackers) means that
anyone with access to encrypted anarchBLATTT file-server places can
put together a virus capable of doing any number of bothersome
and/or useful things, and the government can't do a damn thing
about it. Grr. Grrr. What a shame.
Of course, the "Government" will never be sufficiently ahead
of the constantly bubbling thing-that-bubbles of technological
advance to actually put in controls over technology. The only way
to keep the criminal and sociopathic types from having a monopoly
over viri is to allow everyone to have the systems, and the know-
how to use them. If pooters are outlawed, then only outlaws will
have pooters. That is, only the people who are ALREADY anti-
government, will have access to the empowering technology that's
available. Of course, when EVERYONE has the power to hack EVERYONE
around, then the government simply won't last long. Centralized
institutions just can't stand in the face of this kind of
technological advance.
Central banks, for example, are frighteningly vulnerable: a
single virus with access to the money records can do anything to
your account it wants. That's what the crypto-money scheme is for
what I was talking about earlier. Almost certainly, this system
WILL be introduce, using cryptographically strong encoding,
tranmission through eavesdrop-proof quantum encrypted channels, and
storage media that respond to each read (like a quantum-ROM system,
perhaps, which erases itself whenever you read it, due to
Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle). People just have to get
together and agree to accept one-way exchanges of this self-valued
encrypted information as actual money. The government will
immediately try to tax this, but, well, the government simply MUST
change in response to new waves of technology, or it dies. That's
simple Systems Analysis: a self-rectifying system which fails to
develop new response patterns in reference to new outside stimuli
is less successful and self-propagating than one whch does.
Oh, sure, maybe not everyone will accept the new form of
money. Then their money will be the first target when a wave of
prepackaged modular viri gets loosed on the banks. Big wow. So
the system that survives is the system that accepts crypto-money.
Maybe not everyone will accept the same information format. Well,
no problem: not everyone now accepts foreign money. Just you try
spending Yen in Arkansas...
Just remember: once the Printing Press was feared by liberals
as a tool of oppression. Its actual effect? Liberation from
tyranny, literacy for the masses, and a flourishing of intellectual
acheivement. The computer and the 'net holds the same threat, and
the same promise.
Anarchy is not dead. Watch your overcoat.
MIND-CONTROL CONSPIRACIES ARE PEOPLE TOO!
MOO
OMM
BOOKS OF THE APOSTLES
Book of Halfy
Chapter 0001. (What Happened?)
0001: The Grate Prophet did come down and meet his followers, and
with him, he brought the great symbol of the MOOists.
0002: The followers of MOO did name this symbol in honour of the
Grate Prophet, and it shall be called the Halfy.
Chapter 0002. (Truth: Yeah, right...)
0001: Everything is true, nothing is permissible.
0012: This explains why this book is so short.
0082: It shall be known that the word "Aaaoooozorazzazzaieoazaei-
iiozakhoeoooythoeazaeaoozakhozakheythxaalethykh" is a magical
word, as it seems to cause people to disappear for no
apparent reasons.
0083: Well, it shall be known to all who will know it.
0084: This magical word will also get you things you would never
dream of it bringing, but only if used properly.
FNORD!
Chapter 0005. (Book of Chaos)
0001: Everything is true.
0002: Even false things are true.
0555: Aaaaaaabbceeeeeeeggghkllmmmooooorsst.
0556: Try to figure that code out!
BoCOWok of Confuse-Ius
Chapter of Interruptions.
1: Confuse-Ius can/will interrupt anyone.
2: Confuse-Ius can/will interrupt Confuse-Ius.
3: Confuse-Ius can/will interrupt anything.
4: Confuse-Ius can/will break in in the middle of a word.
Grate Prophet's Interruption of the Interruption.
Confuse-Ius can interrupt anytime it wants. But only The
Grate Prophet can interrupt it's interruptions.
Confuse-Ius Interruption
Can I interrupt interuptions?
Don't interrupt me, and I won't interrupt you, unless I feel
like it. Thpthpthpthp.
Confuse-Ius Say: Can I interrupt interruptions of
interruptions?
Don't interrupt me when I'm interrupting you COW interrupt me.
5: Confuse-Ius can/will throw in a COW wherever he feels like.
6: But Confuse-Ius DARES not split infintives.
7: Always lBLATTTen to Confuse-Ius. BeCOWcause if you don't, you
won't learn.
8: The High Preest is irresponsible for spreading the word of
Confuse-Ius throughout the book of MOO.
9: This will not make much sense.
Cole's Law: Thinly sliced cabbage.
Chapter 0006. (This is a chapter??!!??)
0001: This is a short chapter.
Confuse-Ius sez:
No kidding!
Chapter 0007. (Book of MOOFests)
0001: <see Book of Floyd, chapter 3, he stole it from Me.
Honest>
Confuse-Ius Once Say: Juº=ÊÊþÁÕo]×˱X/9þ"'µs-æqþx³Ã
Chapter 6025. (The Last Book)
0101: MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMOO
Book of Floyd
Chapter 1. (Book Of Pro-verbs and Pro-nouns)
1: Thou shalt not eat my money, or I'll kill you.
Confuse-Ius: Munch, munch, munch.
2: Thou art better off mad than merely loopy.
3: Indeed are thy needs safer with MOO.
4: Thou shalt not partake in the eating of rocks, or then thou
shalt need massive dental work.
6: Thou shalt not worship gravy images, for it's hard to carve
images in gravy.
7: There are beavers in the world, and then there are BEAVERS.
8: People who live in Glass Houses shouldn't throw stones unless
Glass says it's okay first.
12: Beware Chuck, the wood-chucking woodchuck.
13: For truly is it written... somewhere, I can't seem to find it
just now, but I have it written down... can I get back to you
on that?
14: This sentence is not false, but it is silly.
15: This sentence is false AND silly.
16: This sentence is neither true nor false, but it's still silly.
17: This sentence is worthless, because it isn't even silly.
18: This sentence was finished.
19: Sentence fragment.
21: Truly is it difficult to argue with one who agrees with you,
and truly would you be a fool to try it.
26: When the world explodes, putting a paper bag over thy head
would be pretty stupid.
27: Once upon a time...
29: By the way, I meant that "Between The Lines" crack LITERALLY.
31: There is NO SUCH THING as the Paranoid society. If it DID
exBLATTT, I wouldn't belong to it. NOSSIR, NOHOW, NOWAY.
32: Nothing is true. Everything is permissible.
33: No, that's not true, sorry.
34: Everything is true, NOTHING is permissible.
35: No, wait, that's not true EITHER.
46: For truly is it written... Somewhere... I think...
47: Coulda sworn I had it here a second ago.
48: Anyone seen a little green slip of paper about yo big?
49: Well, it wasn't important anyway.
58: Confuse-Ius once say, "Man who stick head in fruit drink get
punch in nose."
59: Confuse-Ius once say, "If everything coming your way, you in
wrong lane."
60: Confuse-Ius once say, "Rolling stone gathers speed."
68: Confuse-Ius once say, "Rolling Stones gather no album
royalties. Odd, that."
69: Don't nobody nohow nowhere ever ask ME for the time.
70: Cuz some dude ate my watch.
71: Nasty little bugger, little green guy about yo big.
72: Funny, that. One of them coincidences.
77: Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. Cept maybe me.
ÖÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄķ
º Juº=ÊÊþÁÕo]×˱X/9þ"'µs-æqþx³Ã'njäqþlfË8`ÖUà#¾þ^èT»º
º þK-I£lLÜPìË-@üþ/ "Bobos-Nargledo" Sherman-Smitharriscamp º
º º
º WISHES IT TO BE KNOWN TO ALL THOSE WHO WISH TO KNOW IT: º
º º
º "Ah shall be retah-ring frum da business of annoyin' dem º
º nahce folx out dere in T.V. land ann settlin' down wit º
º me wahfe and kids. Da business ah shall be leavin' in º
º duh cay-puh-ble haynds of Confuse-Ius, who has always º
º been to me lahke the twelfth uncle ah never had." º
º º
º Confuse-Ius, who operates under the ShaderShield, which º
º allows ConfusionBLATTTs to pass undetected through proof º
º reading shops, could not be found for comment. It is º
º assumed that he has already taken up the legacy entrusted º
º to him by "Bobos-Nargeldo", who will no longer be able º
º to appear in this annoying mind drug. º
º º
º Juº=ÊÊþÁÕo]×˱X/9þ"'µs-æqþx³Ã'njäqþlfË8`ÖU º
º à#¾þ^èT»þK-I£lLÜPìË-@ü has often said in the past º
º that Confuse-Ius is the Last, Best Hope for true stupid º
º interruptions in this country. This, he hopes, has º
º been amply demonstrated so far by Confuse-Ius's many º
º appearances, contrasted with "Bobos-Nargeldo"s own, º
º which have been few and far between. º
º º
º "Information Wants To Be Free" º
º -Hacker's Motto º
º "Poutine Wants To Be Expensive" º
º -Poutine Manufacturer's Motto º
º "I Want An Old Fashioned House In The Country" º
º -"Bobos-Nargeldo" Company Motto º
º "Truth Wants To Be Ranted" º
º -W.O.M.B.A.T. Company Motto º
º º
º º
º ALL HAIL THE GREAT CHILLI-CHEESE BURRITO-TWELVE! º
º º
º º
ÓÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĽ
78: Beaver? WHERE? WHO? WHAT? WHEN? WHY?
79: Some days, you just can't get rid of a bomb.
80: When an exploding octopus steals your wallet, you know it's
time to go home.
81: SCREWBALL! BLOW IT OUT YER EAR, CINNAMON-FEET!
82: What do you get if you multiply six by nine?
83: What's the difference between a pronoun and a proverb?
84: It.
85: He.
86: She.
87: We.
88: They.
89: Hir.
90: SHe.
91: Them.
92: Her.
93: Him.
94: I.
95: Me.
96: You.
97: Us.
98: Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer.
99: Confuse-Ius once say, "Mind your Peas and Queues."
100: Confuse-Ius once say, "Mind your poison queues."
101: Confuse-Ius once say, "Mind your Pies and Queues."
102: Confuse-Ius once say, "WHAT THE FUCK?"
103: Confuse-Ius once say, "Er... Ummm... Don't quote me on that ."
104: Confuse-Ius once say, "..."
105: ...
106: Once upon an aeon, in the Region of Thud...
107: Don't ask me about jello. I don't know nothin'.
108: You can't prove anything.
109: Gimme a cookie.
111: Congratulations, if you send in the winning number in time,
you may have already won ten million dollars!
143: Rolaids spells ROLAIDS, dammit! What are you, STOOPID?
546: All annoying things must come to an end.
Chapter 2. (The Book Of The High Preest's Folly)
1: It came to pass that the High Preest was in the land of the
Wombat, and that he was posessed by an alien mind-beam.
2: And the Lord Un-Cow did see the High Preest as he maketh two
signs in stone upon the Earth.
3: And the first of these had on its face this writing:
4: How much wood could Chuck the wood-chucking woodchuck chuck if
Chuck the wood-chucking woodchuck could chuck wood?
5: And the second sign was seen to say:
6: Beware the Brick Lobbing Beaver.
7: And the Lord spake, saying "Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. That's
fine... WHAT WAS THAT?" and Floyd looked at the lord and said
"Calm down, dummy..." and the Lord spake again unto Floyd,
saying "Get bent.".
8: And the Lord spake then unto the people of the Dinner Circle of
MOO, saying "Ashtray? What Ashtray? I don't see any ashtray.
Do you see an ashtray?".
9: And the people spake unto the Lord therefore, saying "lighten
up old dude." and the Lord smate (smited?) them with a flash of
sulphurous smoke and lightning, and the spake again unto the
Lord, saying "OW!".
10: And the Lord Un-Cow did act confused, and verily, the High
Preest did act confused also.
11: For this was the folly of the High Preest, though also not of
the High Preest.
12: For in his folly, the High Preest had confused not only the
Lord, but also himself.
13: Pretty foolish, eh?
Chapter 3. (The Book of MOOfests)
(Being One Year's Worth Of Fests)
(Stolen from Half-Mad. Really)
1: The Lord Un-Cow, being confused still, looketh down from
somewhere higher than what he/she/it was looking at.
2: Below the Lord Un-Cow were gathered many MOOists, and great
fires announceth their presence.
3: And there was a great confusion below, as the MOOists shouted
unto the sky.
4: And the words which the MOOists shouteth were these.
5: "I'm gonna jump! I'm gonna do it! I swear I'll do it!"
6: And the Lord Un-Cow did look down even unto the MOOists, and
replyeth.
7: And the words of the Lord as he/she/it replyeth from the ledge
were these words.
8: "Don't do it! Don't jump!"
9: And the MOOists did jump, and the lord did frown.
10: And the MOOists did return to the ground from whence they
jumpeth.
11: The MOOists did plead unto heaven, or at least unto the ledge.
12: And the words of their pleading were these words.
13: "Awww. Why did you have to do that? Can't we at least have a
feast?"
14: And the lord did grin, and the MOOists did feast upon the carp,
and mints, and wombats, and beavers, and bricks, and
flamethrowers, and printers, and Lepers, and Messiahs, and each
other, and mountains, and the Lord, and the Lost Tribe Of
Trevor, and six annoying mind drugs about lasers.
15: And the Lord did get annoyed, and the Lord did pull back
his/her/it's leg and the Lord spake unto them, saying "Hey cut
that out!" and the people did spontaneously combust, and the
Lord did speak, and the Lord sayeth "Ah that's better" and the
Lord did go back to sleep and Halfy did eat him/her/it.
16: And this was the first MOOfest.
17: And for a long time was there a great pause, followed by a time
of discussions and wonderings of when should there be held yet
another MOOfest.
18: And from impatience, and the fact that the Hight Preest had
been unable to appear at the first, the first-and-a-half was
held some days later.FNORD!
19: And the MOOists did gather to eat upon the fruited mints that
sprang forth from the satchel of Floyd Gecko. And truly was
there a gathering at the sacred Dunn's.
20: And during this time did Halfy stub out a cigarette in a heap
of something explosive.
21: And verily did the ashtray explode, leaving the High Preest in
a mess, for truly was it he who caused the accident.
22: And verily did the MOOists sweep the accident to one side, and
did pretend it never happened.
23: Did I say ashtray? WHAT ASHTRAY?
24: And truly did Leper Messiah and Floyd Gecko and Halfy produce
in a frosted glass the appearance of life, of cream and salt
and sugar and pepper and vinegar.
25: And yet it did scream and leave the glass, running across the
floor of the deli.
26: And indeed did they scram when they did see this.
27: And truly did Leper Messiah vanish into thin air, never to be
seen again.
28: And truly was the great sigil of MOO manifest upon the melting
snow of the land.
29: And thus ended the first-and-a-half MOOfest.
30: And so it came to pass that there was a long period of waiting
and of nothing much happening, and Hellhound did return to the
lands from whence he came.
31: And truly was there a great silence upon the land of Udduwah
for some number of days. And then it came to be the birthday
festival of the High Preest.
32: And then was there a great time of rejoicing and silliness.
33: For indeed was there a PythonFest, and the antics of Brian and
of Mr. And Mrs. Brian Norris did parade themselves across the
screen of the magical box.
34: And indeed was there great laughter. For truly was it funny.
35: And then the alien vessel did land in bermuda, and truly did
nobody notice it, for indeed did it have nothing to do with
this story.
36: For verily is it written... umm... somewhere...
37: Well never mind, for verily did it happen that there was a
great light of the Great MOO on Earth, as Halfy and Floyd and
several of those infidel unMOO there gathered did create for
themselves a light.
38: And truly did they say "let there be light".
39: And indeed were their eyebrows singed.
40: Later then upon that day was there a great feasting upon the
holy pizzas and the holy vegetables and dill dip.
41: And then indeed was there great happiness, for the pizzas did
not run away.
42: And then the Great MOO caused a great silliness to arrive in
the home of Floyd Gecko, and there was much rejoicing.
43: And then everyone was indeed much confused. And eventually
did they return unto their homes.
44: And truly was there a long, long, long wait, far longer than
ten minutes. Or even ten days. For truly were they forced to
wait for several months.
45: And at that time there was the Second MOOFest.
46: And indeed did I Yemen-Oying and Floyd Gecko meet each other in
the holy Central Park, and did seek other MOOists, who had
truly promised to arrive.
47: And their searches took them long and far, and they endured
many hardships.
48: For falsely did they trek across the desert wastelands of the
Sahara in their search.
49: And indeed did they quest through swamps and forests, cities
and meadows, seeking those who had said they would arrive.
50: But then they returned to the appointed meeting place, sad that
the others had not arrived.
51: And verily were the others there, demanding to know why they
were late.
52: For indeed was Halfy and Neuro and Atrox there, wandering in
search of Floyd and Yemen.
53: And indeed did they visit the humble store nearby that did
sell great magic in its wares, and knowledge that did abound.
54: And indeed was it there that they did find knowledge of the
great "BOB", from the SubGenius who did work there.
55: Sadly, before they could learn more, the man did turn himself
into a toad, and did hop away.
56: And indeed, like many toads, did he say CROAK CROAK CROAK. And
truly was it stupid.
57: But they did hunt him down through hill and valley and did
confront him with his unfinished tale, and he did truly end it.
58: For he did explode in a massive bang of hydrogen in the Ruin,
disguised as a balloon.
59: And truly did they enter a long dark tunnel, and did cause the
light of knowledge to enter there, and did notice that there
was a great cloud descending upon them, and they did flee from
there unto Dunn's.
60: But truly were Neuro and Atrox vanished in the end, and were
gone from sight, for they were fools anyway.
61: And they had indeed turned into toads themselves, and been
captured by an errant pack of raving fire hydrants.
62: And indeed did they eventually disappear.
63: Thus ended the Second MOOFest.
64: But in the end, it came time for Halfy to leave to preach the
word of the Great MOO in another city, and with his departure
there came a lull.
65: And Halfy did take retroactive revenge upon Floyd for being
slow in his duties as High Preest, causing Floyd's computer
to crash.
66: And truly did this make it hard for Floyd to act in his duties.
67: And eventually did Halfy return to the city, for there had been
a decision to hold another gathering of Power.
68: And indeed was it larger than the others, and truly was it
wondrous, for all those with knowledge on all matters of MOO
were present, and El Cid did present his knowledge and his
gifts of candy.
69: And they then caused great motion and noise to invade the Ruin.
70: And verily did they seek unto all lands and worlds to find the
nature of things. And there was light.
71: And indeed did Floyd complain of a sore neck.
72: For Floyd was... umm... Floyd HAD a pain in the neck.
73: But finally did they return to Dunn's, as they always did.
74: And verily was there discussion of many things.
75: Of shoes and ships and sealing wax, and whether pigs have
wings.
76: But truly did they never mention that it was Lewis Carroll who
spoke of it first, for they were unoriginal.
77: And in the end did they understand better, and they did return
to their homes enlightened, and left a large tip.
78: For indeed is he holy who gives big tips.
79: And in the end, the money you make is equal to the money you
give to waitresses.
80: And that was the InsanityFest.
81: And there was a long pause, in which very little of import did
be in the happening of itself being. Umm. Yeah.
82: And truly did it near the time of the Nu-Yer, as the Penguins
do most heathenly celebrate with the other heathenish
celebrants in their celebratory celebrations which do be being
such that they celebrate heathenly.
83: And on the day of December the nineteenth was there a great
film which did attract stupid people.
84: For truly was it the Rocky Horror Picture Show, where all
nonconformBLATTTs could gather to act exactly the same.
85: And Floyd did decide that it would be his duty to go there
seeking the Hellhound 101, for Hellhound had been gone for
many a month, his whereaCOWbouts unknown.
86: So Floyd did bedeck himself most nonconformBLATTTically.
87: And he did arrive there, and while seeing many that he knew,
he saw none there resembling Hellhound 101, for Hellhound
had been eaten by the winds that swept the desserts of
Israel many years before, leaving an icecream-free zone.
88: But Floyd did watch the moving pictures, and did enjoy it
in a way, but was surprised that Hellhound was not there.
89: But as many left, he saw the Salmon, whose home is a holy
site to the PenguinBLATTTs. And with her was Jonathan
Tracy, a holy one to the PenguinBLATTTs.
90: And this he took to be an omen.
91: So it came to pass that he comversed with many in the place,
and found that though he knew none of them, many of them had
read the Grate Book Of MOO, and he took this too to be an omen.
92: And he did depart with the Salmon and the Tracy and another
to feast at Dunn's.
93: And he did discover that he had little money, and they had
to leave soon, and that the seats near the door were not
so holy as those farther from the door.
94: For the absence of Hellhound had cursed the city.
95: So it came to pass that they had to leave, and as Floyd
walked alone through the alleys of the Market he did meet
some people.
96: And he did recognize them, for they had seen the Moving
Picture near him.
97: And among them were many he knew from elsewhere.
98: So he spoke to the heathen and laughed and joked.
99: And a miracle came to pass.
100: One of the heathen did ask him his name, and he did indicate
his official clothing.
101: Hellhound still wasn't there, though.
102: And she did read his clothes, and an expression of knowledge
did appear on her face.
103: And she said unto him these words:
104: "Floyd Gecko? As in the Book Of MOO?"
105: For she was yet another who had read the Book.
106: But there was more to come.
107: As they talked, he found that she knew much of the secrets
of Robert Anton Wilson, famous DiscordianBLATTT.
108: And at this point, his strange hat did attract an odd man
who offered them Jamaican Dope very quietly.
109: Floyd sent him away, because he had no money.
110: The girl to whom he spoke was upset and confused by this,
for he had accomplished his purpose.
111: And it developed that she had read a very old Book, and did
solemnly avow to meet him again at the next gathering of
MOOists to gain another.
112: And they did converse long, and did run with the others and
apart from the others in their discussions, and there was
much climbing in and out of elevators and falling down
stairs.
113: And eventually did they part their separate ways.
114: And that was the RockyFest.
115: And after there had been a Nu-Yer passed, and there had been
anew a gathering of MOOists in places all, various, and
sundry, there came to pass the appointed time for the next
meeting.
116: And the MOOists did converge upon Dunn's like flies upon a
mouldy bit of fruit.
117: Or perhaps a dead animal, which is unpleasant, but does indeed
tend to attract flies.
118: Anyway.
119: So the MOOists and many non-MOOists alike did gather together
in Dunn's, and did feast upon veggie platters, which they did
steal from Floyd.
120: And in the time of this passing-having-come-to-be-occurring,
there was much food-eating activities and dispensing of both
money to waitresses, for there were two, and also of relish.
121: But their vile creation in a glass did not this time flee from
the Deli, but sat there and supported a spoon, for it
contained much Thousand-Islands Dressing, which would not let
it move.
122: And so in consternation they attmpted to raise demons in it,
but did find that they had no power over demons, not being
that type.
123: And so the Slurry-Entity sat there and made "slurp squelch"
noises, and was disgusting in much of its looks, and they did
ignore it.
124: And eventually, after consuming of chocolate sundaes and
carmel saturdaes did they leave Dunn's, finding it warm
outside.
125: And they did fall to prey upon unsuspecting Rideau Centers,
Annoying-Mind-Drugstores, and Computer Merchandise Peddling
Places Of Commercial Enterprise (CMPPOCE's).
126: But finding nothing of interest, Halfy and Floyd and El Cid
and Charon and indeed even the non-MOO Harizof did depart to
the home of Floyd.
127: [CENSORED]
128: And they did then retire unto a great place of moving pictures
to meet with Frieda, who had promised to show up there.
129: And so as they waited, consuming mints and examining the place
in which they found themselves, they discovered the slurry
beast from the first-and-a-half MOOFest.
130: But El Cid did step in it and kill it accidentally.
131: And soon did there arrive Frieda, with an array of
knowledgeable others, who sat upon chairs, instead of stairs,
and who ate food, instead of large rubber things that nobody
could really identify except that they were purchased in Japan
that time.
132: And upon these knowledgeable people was imparted knowledge, in
the form of Books.
133: There were annoying mind drugs of MOO, Discord, and How-To
Plumbing.
134: For a sink was clogged in the nether-world.
135: But that's neither here nor there.
136: For such is the nature of the nether-world.
137: And they did watch the parading of the MOOving pictures upons
the screen before them by the name of AKIRA.
138: And they did joyously partake of insulting these pictures.
139: And their taunts and cries did cause great enjoyment to those
around, and they were cheered.
140: And when the MOOvies were over, they did bow and take money in
from the audience... NOT!
141: And when the non-MOO Harizof had vanished into thin air, just
as had done folks in each of the MOOvies, there was much of a
consternation.
142: And then all of a sudden... Well, most of a sudden, anyway.
Well, some of a sudden....
143: What does a sudden look like, anyway? That's what I want to
know. Has anyone ever seen one?
144: Well anyway, they all left, and the MOOvies-Fest was ended.
145: And there was a breather.
146: Which was good, for if there hadn't been, they all would've
died.
147: On account of breathing is good for you. HONEST.
148: And the breather went on until the time came for another Fest.
149: And it was eventually decided in roundabout ways that the Fest
should be small, inviting only a few family mem... umm...
150: That it should be small, for Halfy was nowhere to be seen.
151: And indeed was it small, for though everyone showed up to
see THE WALL and HEAVY METAL, they did most verily not notice
each other, the crowd being so great.
152: And thus was the They-All-Missed-Each-OtherFest, which was
never recorded anywhere, for it failed miserably.
153: And there was a short pause while they collected their wits.
154: And soon enough there was the end of the year of MOOFests, and
it was determined that there should be one to mark the end of
the first year of the Holy Church of the Great MOO's latest
emergence into the world.
155: And so at 2:43:17.6 on the 21st of March, 135566 DPP did the
Preest Lloyd Taco enter into Dunn's Deli, having abandoned me,
his most P.Oed brother, at the Wendy's in the Rideau Center.
156: And with him were the two we had met, who had agreed to join
our most blasphemous Church (for they were MOOist Wiccans).
157: And they were called Handmaiden Gates and Cat Bondage.
158: For truly did they have strange tastes in names, being
wierdos. For each of them had chosen the name she wanted
most, of all the wierd names that did circulate in the Market
at that time.
159: And they did discover upon entry that there was a table most
verily reserved for them already, though they had not arranged
it. And it was miraculous.
160: And they did also discover a table most falsely reserved for
them, which they HAD arranged. And it was not miraculous.
161: And they did sit.
162: And they did wait for a while.
163: And at this time, Halfy awoke many kilometers away, for he had
overslept, the fool.
164: And so it transpired, back at the Deli, that Captain Cando had
showed up, strangely enough. And he and Sgt. MOOre were both
using the same body, as had long been suspected.
165: But no wombats did leap upon them, and neither did they leap
upon wombats, for no wombats were to be found.
166: And neither were there any printers to be found, until later
that evening. So it wasn't really quite so strange as the
first MOOFest until later, when the Peace Tower began to
speak.
167: But that's another story, and I'll get to that in a sec, okay?
168: Anyway.
169: WOWEE! Speaking of Wiccans... Check out the verse, dude!
170: Anyway, this is beside the point.
171: And as time passed there did arrive Mr. Slippery, whose
leaflets did truly suck, and Charon, and Oberon, and Mr. Canoe
Head, and Comrad Harizof, and Half-Mad, and Madness and
Terminal Entry, and Jesus, who sat at a table on the other
side, where none spotted him, and El Cid, and Longshot, and
the Disinterested Observer from Om Ceti, and one known as Lyds
(wierdo).
172: And so it was that many MOOists did fill up and overflow the
reservation most mysteriously made for them.
173: For whatever God or Goddess had made the reservation had
fucked up on the number.
174: And the MOOists did create slurries in glasses, which the most
blasphemous waitress did remove.
175: And the MOOists did feast upon food, which the most helpful
waitress did deliver unto them.
176: And they ate and read and congregated, and the most
dBLATTTressed waitress did leave her shift.
177: And so at 5:00:12 they did leave Dunn's and most truly split.
178: And they did visit the Rideau Center, where Lloyd, that stupid
fool, was ROLLED down a hallway. And they preached to the
masses and put the book on hard-drives in 'puter stores, until
the ones known as Security were called.
179: And since Atrox was working as Security, nothing much
happened.
180: And so they spent a good three-quarters of an hour, give or
take two minutes and twelve seconds.
181: And after returning to the Wendy's, where I was picked up (and
I manacled the blasphemous Lloyd to a chair for deserting me),
we went most ravenously forth unto Spark's Street to preach.
182: Only nobody was there, on account of it was evening, and cold,
this being Canada, after all, and what did I expect on the
first day of spring, WARMTH OR SOMETHING?
183: But NOOOOOO, the stupid WEATHER hadda get in the way, and we
couldn't FUCKING PREACH TO THE MASSES, DAMMIT!
184: Well that's just how it IS, when you live in CANADA, isn't it?
185: LAND OF BLOODY ICE AND BLOODY SNOW, INNIT?
186: NOT LIKE WE COULDN'T HAVE EXPECTED ANY BLEEDING GRASS OR
ROBINS BLOODY WELL CHIRPING ON THE FIRST DAY OF BLOODY SPRING,
EH?
187: Anyway.
188: We did retire unto the Parliament buildings, losing El Cid and
Longshot, and the Disinterested Observer along the way.
189: If found, please return to the Church Of MOO, 40 Grove Ave,
Ottawa ON, K1S 3A6.
190: And so we did toast marshmallows on the Eternal Flame, and
warm our chilled hands.
191: And we did spell out MOO on the ground just as the Peace Tower
began to chime 6:00:00.00ish.
192: And so it began to speak to us, for we had inhaled the fumes
of the Eternal Flame, speaking as it did about wombats and
where wombats live, and what they eat. At least, that's how
*I* remember it.
193: And we did offer mints to those who left the building.
194: And they did refuse, even though they were Free and also Made
In Canada.
195: For they had been brainwashed by the Evil Bung, Brian
Mulroney, at that time Prime MinBLATTTer of Canada.
196: For though he was evil (sometimes) and nasty (sometimes), at
least he didn't have a sweet tooth.
197: I think.
198: And truly did we return unto the Rideau Center, losing the Mr.
Slippery, who CLAIMED to have reserved our table for us.
199: And Handmaiden Gates and Cat Bondage and Mr. Canoe Head were
initiated into our ranks on the food court, for we are not too
proud to share our rituals with the public, like SOME
RELIGIONS I COULD MENTION!!!
200: Not to name any names.
201: And truly did Madness and Mr. Canoe Head and Terminal Entry
and Comrad Harizof (the pyro one) and Lyds and them
spontaneously combust, due to Harizof's incessant meddling.
202: And the rest of us, all seven who were left, seek out Halfy's
car, for he is overly fond of driving.
203: Ain't that just the way? The Handmaiden and Captain Cando got
the big Front Seat with Halfy, and the rest of us hadda squish
and squash to even BEGIN to fit in the back.
204: And Charon kept stealing MY hat, too.
205: And Oberon did complain that he had to leave (mostly on
account of how tiny he had to squeeze to fit in the seat) and
other horrendous plagues of that type did beset the MOOists.
206: And Charon did receive a most horrific bite on the head from
me when he stole my hat again.
207: Served him right, too.
209: And Cat Bondage did complain of sundry people jostling.
210: And so Halfy (who had replied "This Way" to "Where are we
going") came to a stop in Kanata, threw out Oberon, who was
whining, and we continued on our way.
211: And so we returned to Udduwah (the Great Capital) and did rest
at my home, where we most accidentally interrupted a rather
nice dinner party for a few moments before reaching the
temple.
212: For what can you do when people are invited to your home?
213: Anyway.
214: We then proceeded to the great MOOvie Freejack, which we did
observe until it was over, which we deemed a good time to stop
watching it, on account of it wasn't on anymore.
215: And, it being over, Charon did jump up and down, having
consumed so much caffeine we wondered why he didn't explode.
216: For 30 cups of coffee is too much for one night, even if 23 of
them are contained within Jolt Cola (Charon's Drink).
217: And it was true that as we did that hurtling-down-the-road-
and-lBLATTTening-to-loud-industrial-music bit, Charon was a
little agitated, though the back seat was still my undignified
lot.
218: And so I contrived to bring us to a Donut Shoppe so that I
might regain my Seat of Honour, in the front.
219: And it came to pass that in the course of this I accidentally
(HONEST) hit the Handmaiden in the eye with a decapitated
chicken made of rubber.
220: This sentence fell into this chapter from somewhere else, and
does not, in fact, belong here. This one, however, does, and
attests to the fact that the smacking-in-the-eye-with-a-
chicken-with-no-head was, in fact, an accidence. HONEST.
221: And so I was forced to purchase many many donuts to make up
for this most accidentally accidental accident which I had,
totally by accident, accidentally accidented.
222: And there was much eating of donuts, and explaining to Charon
that if he didn't stop bounding around, he couldn't stay
inside, and sitting on funny Donut Shoppe stools.
223: And it was explained to Charon about the mysteries of creation
and infinity, but he wasn't paying attention, being too
jittery.
224: And so it came to pass that the time was drawing to a close in
which I could still get that front seat.
225: So I made a break for it, and did truly get to ride there on
the way back from the Donut Shoppe.
226: And as for what became of Lloyd, he won't say, hitting me as
he does with a steel-plated decapitated wombat-chicken.
227: But hell, he got home, didn't he?
228: And so I knew nothing of what happened after that, for I
wasn't even there to record.
229: And thus was the first year of MOOFests at an end.
230: And here ends my recording of them.
Chapter 4. (The Book Of Answers)
1: The High Preest then said unto his followers one day,
2: I shall tell you the answers now.
3: But nobody was there, for he had few followers.
4: Then the High Preest, after the Great MOO had enlightened Saint
Yari, said finally one later day unto the MOOists,
5: I shall tell you the answers now.
6: And they asked what the questions were.
7: And the first question was
8: How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could
chuck wood?
9: And the answer was
10: Thirty Million Kilograms.
11: And the second question was
12: How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?
13: And the answer was
14: Five Billion, Six Hundred Sixty-Two Million, Eight Hundred
Thirty Seven Thousand, Nine Hundred and Five.
15: And the third question was
16: How much ground could a groundhog hog if a groundhog could hog
ground?
17: And the answer was
18: Seventy Hectares.
19: And the fourth question was
20: Why is a pig round?
21: And the answer was
22: Why not?
23: And the fifth question was
24: What is the meaning of life?
25: And the answer was
26: (CENSORED BY THE U.S. MILITARY) FNORD!
27: And the sixth question was
28: What is the MOO for?
29: And the answer was
30: Get lost, I'm tired of answering your stupid questions.
Chapter 5. (The Book Of The Tundra)
1: The High Preest did say to his vaguely following followers
the following words:
2: You ask, oh followingly following followers, the following
question: what the hell happened to the Tundra?
3: I shall tell you, oh followers, and attentest thee well, oh
you in the back, for I can see you falling asleep. HEY! You
in the back! Wake up! That's better.
4: Oh recall, friends, how in the gospel accordion to Saint Yari
the Tundra was destroyed by the Great MOO, well this is the
fuller-than-that-but-still-pretty-damn-empty story.
5: In the beginning was the Game, and the Game was Nomic, and
the Game grew bored of playing all on it's own
6: And the Great MOO created herself retroactively.
7: In this great retroactive creation was made the Game itself,
the Great MOO, and nothing else.
8: But soon, I tell you, the Great MOO became bored, as behooves
a Goddess with nothing to do.
9: And so it came to pass that the tundra and the Penguins were
made.
10: But even so, the Great MOO did yet again become bored. So the
Explosion was made to happen, albeit a bit reluctantly.
11: And so was the tundra shattered into an incredibly large number
of teeny tiny bits.
12: As told in the Gospel Accordion To Saint Yari, one of these
was round, and was called The Universe. In it lay The Earth,
which was also round.
13: And this Earth was given to Eris, as told in a sec, so don't
go away.
14: Another of the bits was taken by the Primordial Penguin and
in it were made the brood of Second Generation Penguins. And
one of these was Jehovah.
15: And the Second Generation Penguins did flee to Earth and live
in Antarctica, along with Jehovah.
16: And the son of Jehovah, being half-human and half-penguin,
was named ChrBLATTT (misnamed ChrBLATTT) and verily, oh my
friends, he was nailed to a tree.
17: What a sap.
18: And another part of the Tundra was Void-Shaped, and the Great
MOO did call it the Void, because the Great MOO wasn't one
to muck about with stupid names for things.
19: And out of the void were created, through the eternal wrestle
of the Void with itself, Eris and Aneris.
20: And Eris did take The Universe as her plaything, for she was
daughter Goddess of the Great MOO, and that was her right.
21: And Aneris did mope, but found another bit of the Tundra to
play with, and it was called Aneris's Plaything, on account
of Aneris didn't screw around with dumb names either.
22: Aneris's Plaything was a bit of the Tundra which happened to
be extremely boring.
23: Yet another bit of the Tundra was formed by the Great MOO by
Nomic Rule Number (Extremely High Number) into "BOB", her first
son.
24-28: [Consult information on "BOB" elsewhere in this book, or
any person belonging to the Church of the Sub-Genius.]
29: One bit of Tundra was formed by the Great MOO into QUACK, but
we don't like to talk about him.
30: And QUACK did gain his followers on the Earth.
31-34: [Consult the Book of QUACK for info on QUACKBLATTT.]
35: Verily indeed at the time of the making of QUACK did the
Great MOO turn her attention unto The Earth, and made Cow
into her own image.
36: And the Humans, who were ugly were-slugs, did crawl out of
the sea to see what was going on.
37: Truly was the Great MOO disgusted to see humans, so as a joke
she made a committee to design a GNU form, and the committee
was called Prophet Of MOO.
38: And the Prophet of MOO did create beer and draft and did
eventually design the form of humans, while thinking itself
to be a human as well.
39: And another bit of Tundra was the Hot Dog. But it got eaten.
40: A bit of the Tundra which was shaped like a Fire Hydrant, and
was consequently named the Fire Hydrant, fell to the Earth,
and split open, and there was truly a great floyd. Uh, I
mean flood.
41: And Jehovah, seeing that the flood might destroy his world,
did warn a man named "Noah" and his wife "Priscilla Presley"
of the flood, and they did gather animals in a great boat.
42: And Jehovah did wrestle with the Fire Hydrant for forty days
and forty nights, looking extremely silly.
43: Because the sight of a Fire Hydrant wrestling a Penguin was
so silly, the Fire Hydrant became a great Icon of MOO, and
many small models were built along streets and in cities, and
they were worshipped by MOOists with a mutter of MOO.
44: Noah's wife, Priscilla Presley, was born again to the same
name, many thousands of years later, but forgot all about
the business with the boat.
45: (TOP SECRET)
46: And a shower of infinitely many dust particles from the Tundra
did become named Souls.
47-55: [Consult Book of Really Secret Secrets for info on Souls]
56: And there were a whole bunch of others too, but I'm getting
bored of explaining it to you. There were infinitely many
of them, so there isn't really room here.
57: But truly were many Penguins survivors of the Great Explosion,
and being birds, they swallowed some of the Souls.
58: And many of these swallowed Godlike Souls of five or six
levels higher than humans.
59: And these became Gods, with such names as Jupiter,
Quetzalcoatl, Zeus, Xoccipetl, Odin, Thor, Vishnu, Hera,
Brahma, Athena, Venus, Tsuliwaensis, and many many others.
60: And one of these, whose name was, boringly, God, made a bet
with the others, and was reincarnated as a Human, the
lowest form of life they could think of (also the one that
came out of the hat, but that's another story).
61: And this God instantly changed his name to something much
longer, and did become the Great Prophet of MOO.
62: And the High Preest, well, that's another story entirely.
63: For the tale of how the High Preest came to be, while very
long and complicated, is not very interesting.
64: So spake the High Preest, warning that this whole story
would be repeated later in simplified format for the guy
in the back.
65: For the guy in the back had, against all warnings, fallen
asleep.
Chapter 6. (The Book Of Vague Threats)
3: The MOO did descend unto Earth, and Floyd did bite it, and
Halfy did say "Eh" and there was a great Wombat over the land,
and Floyd did say "Huh" and "Yeah verily" and other bible
things, and Halfy did bite the wombat, which was odd, because
it should go the other way around.
4: Thou shalt bloody well write in area 9 or thou shalt
spontaneously fall into a quantum matrix wormhole and thou
shalt forever fall unto the pit of more-or-less eternal
damnation of those who fail to smear themselves with caramel at
the Lord's command.
5: And truly as it was in the beginning shall it come to pass in
the end, and for as it was in the pluperfect, verily shalt it
be in the future subjunctive, and indeed will there be a great
horror upon the land, when cactusses, um, cackti... them
things roam free among the streets being made of foam rubber.
6: And truly shalt thou assBLATTT the cac... them things... in
their being-made-of-plastic-and-roaming-freely-about-the-
streets activities by creating foam rubber them things, or the
Great MOO shall frown upon you for the rest of your days. And
nights.
17: And as it was in the end, so it shall have sometimes been in
the beginning, and there will be a day of reckoning, and thou
shalt be accountable for King Kong's sins, for though he died
for yours, he forgot to die for his own.
23: And twelve bagels will descend on you, and chew the ligaments
from your flesh, and munch on your toenails, if you for one
minute forget to look both ways before crossing the street.
Chapter 7. (The Book Of Yo-Yo)
1: Before the beginning, there were no yo-yo tops.
2: And then, there was the beginning, and the birth of the
universe.
3: And still there were no yo-yo tops.
4: And then there came the middle.
5: And in the middle, there came the yo-yo.
6: For the God-thing Yo-Yo said, "Let us create yo-yo in our own
image", and so it did.
7: And saw that it was Karmic.
8: And verily did it say unto themselves, "Let me make this a
prayer unto us, so that whomsoever may spin it shall become
one of my devotees."
9: Only this didn't work too well, because everyone has beliefs
just like you do, and they're all right. You're WRONG, always.
10: And it's just like Namron to do a thing like that.
11: But then one day, the true Plan came into being.
12: For Floyd was yo-yoing his merry way through the Market when...
13: Acidhead... "Hey man, can I have your yo-yo?"
14: Floyd's buddy... "Uh oh..."
15: Floyd... "Why?"
16: Acidhead... "Because I'm on acid."
17: Floyd... "No, this is a special yo-yo."
18: Acidhead... "Why?"
19: Floyd... "It's a prayer-wheel yo-yo. Whenever it spins, it
sends a prayer to Yo-Yo, and increases my Karma."
20: Acidhead... "You have Karma?"
21: Floyd... "You bet yer prepackaged bananas."
22: Acidhead... "Where'd you get it?"
23: Floyd... "That Karma store around the corner, two blocks to
the left..."
24: Acidhead... "What's Karma?"
25: Floyd... "It's like jam for the soul. It comes in different
flavours, and depending on whether it's good or bad, you
reincarnate differently."
26: Acidhead... "So you can cast spells?"
27: Floyd... "No, I need to get more Karma for that."
28: Acidhead... "How?"
29: Floyd... "Practice. Gotta use the Karmic Yo-Yo. That's why
I need to keep it. Nothing personal."
30: Acidhead... "You're fucking with my head, man."
31: Floyd... "Guess I shouldn't do that, huh?"
32: Acidhead... "'Sokay."
33: And truly they shook hands, which the yo-yo made difficult, and
parted their separate ways.
34: For indeed, it is hard to part if you both go the SAME way.
35: And so it came to pass that one of them believed in yo-yo, and
the karmic power of the yo-yo.
36: We're just not sure which one.
37: Which is rather reassuring, really.FNORD!
Chapter 8. (The Book Of The Penguin)
(Being Partly For The Guy In The Back)
(Who Fell Asleep In Floyd 5:65«)
1: In the beginning, there was Nomic, and the face of the Nomic
moved upon the waters of the deep.
2: And the Nomic made a Retroactive Rule, and saw that it was
good.
3: And the Nomic said "Let there be a Great MOO!"
4: Thus was the Great MOO created, and verily did the Great MOO
begin to play the game of the Nomic.
5: Indeed did the Great MOO create herself by the Nomic, and truly
was the Nomic pleased, and saw that it was good.
6: And the Great MOO, seeing that the world was without form, and
void, did say "Let there be a tundra!"
7: And verily was there a tundra. And the Great MOO did look on
the tundra, and saw that it was good.
8: But soon, the Great MOO saw that she had nobody to play Nomic
with, and did become dBLATTTraught.
9: And indeed did the Great MOO discover the Other. And the Great
MOO created herself a Great Idea. And the Great MOO proclaimed
"Let there be Penguins!"
10: And truly were there Penguins.
11: Indeed, one of these Penguins was the Primordial Penguin, and
this Penguin was smarter than the rest. And the Great MOO saw
this, and saw that it was good.
12: And indeed did the Great MOO take up playing the game of Nomic
with the Primordial Penguin, and did verily ordain the nature
of things.
13: So it came to pass that the world began to change itself, and
so through the game of Nomic was the world changed.
14: But soon the Great MOO decided that it was time to expand the
Game, and truly did she say "Let there be a world in which to
live!"
15: And indeed did the tundra become a world, and life became
possible, through the Great MOO.
16: Seeing this, the lesser Penguins would have rejoiced, but they
were only Penguins, and stupid.
17: And so the Penguins did not rejoice, but went on living as if
nothing had ever happened.
18: But the Great MOO saw this, and decided that it wasn't as good
as the other things, but it wasn't too bad.
19: So the Nomic continued, and through its continuance the world
became chaotic, and things became muddled and sort of confused.
20: But indeed did the Great MOO ponder this, and she saw that it
was good, if somewhat confusing for the poor Penguins.
21: In the end the Great MOO and the Primordial Penguin continued
the Game of Nomic, and they created the Souls of the world, and
the souls of the world were allowed to play the game.
22: So the souls of the world were divided unto their ranks, and
their ranks extended infinitely in both directions, for the
Penguin and the Great MOO were able to understand this
confusion.
23: And the Souls of the world play the game of Nomic to this day,
and they continue to change the world.
24: But soon the Great MOO decided enough was enough, and verily
she did create an explosion, using her MOO powers, granted to
her by herself, by the Nomic.
25: (TOP SECRET)
26: And verily did the Great MOO create an explosion, and the
tundra was scattered across the face of the world, and the
peices did become things.
27: And one of these things was round, and it was the Earth.
28: And one of these things was formless, and it was VOID.
29: And one of these things was a hot-dog, and it was eaten.
30: And one of these things was funny-looking, and it was laughed
at.
31: From the Earth, as told by Yari, was created humans, and Cows.
32: From the VOID was created Eris and Aneris, as told by
Discordians.
33: From the hot-dog was created nothing, as told by nobody
special.
34: From the funny-looking thing was created more Penguins, and
Jehovah, as told by the PenguinBLATTTs.
35: Also in this time were created by the Great MOO two sons, to
join in their play her two daughters Eris and Aneris.
36: The names of these sons were "BOB" and QUACK, as known to
MOOists.
37: And their tales are told elsewhere.
38: SO ENDS THE BOOK OF THE PENGUIN
Chapter 9. (The Book Of The Saints)
1: The High Preest did one day sit down while lBLATTTening to
Abbey Road on a set of earphones, and did ponder unto himself.
2: And the ways of his pondering were many and varied, but
generally ponderous and ponderish and ponderlike.
3: And he did think unto himself the idea that the Beatles had
made a great donation to MOO. Though he wasn't sure how.
4: Then he pondered it some more. And his ponderings were still
many, but somewhat less varied, and all of a ponderitious,
ponderous, ponderlike, ponderoid, ponderish, and ponderisk.
5: And he then said unto himself: "HEY! I GOT IT!"
6: And he then went on further unto himself and said such things
as the words which follow these ones here only not in this
verse because this verse is dedicated to explaining it's own
purpose after indicating that the words of the ponderitious
ponderings of the High Preest follow.
7: Unto himself said the High Preest: "I should stop talking unto
myself. It's silly, and makes me sound foolish."
8: Unto the world therefore said he: "The Beatles made a great
contribution to MOOism because they promoted free sex and a lot
of the other stuff, and without them, those things might not
have occurred to me."
9: Unto the world again said Floyd: "Yeah, okay. So other people
have supported that stuff, and a whole bunch did it before
them. But they were real famous, and got it all popularized.
And, besides... who's the Preest around here? Okay? Okay."
10: Then said the High Preest unto someone who wasn't there because
they probably got bored and left: "But John Lennon is dead...
Doesn't that qualify him to be a saint fourth class like Yari?"
11: And then he spake: "Yeah, what the hell... Why not?"
12: And then he decided unto himself that he would justify to
posterity, though not to his posterior, because it wasn't
lBLATTTening, why some of the saints exBLATTTed.
13: "Spaxter", he said unto the world, "is a fictional character of
interest. He's just so damn cool. LBLATTTen to Spaxter and
Spaxter-Back. You'll know why. Besides... I think Hellhound
made him a saint because of the neat gauntlet and all that neat
stuff. I'm not being very coherent, am I?"
14: And Eris spoke unto him for a fraction of a second only, saying
that no, he wasn't.
15: And he looked around confusedly.
16: "I don't know nothing about no Yossarian. He's someone from
Catch 22, I think. Ask Hellhound. Allright? I dunno.
Jeez. MOO!"
17: He neglected to mention Yari, on account of how that ought to
be obvious to everyone in the world with an ounce (or even a
gram) of common sense.
18: He also neglected to mention the others, because they were
pretty self-explanitory, and because he was getting bored.
19: He then realized that he'd only covered two of the hundreds of
thousands. And he sighed at the futility, and said MOO again.
20: Kinda metaphoric, innit?
21: Still, Floyd's just the kinda guy who gives up easily.
22: He ignored St. Feynmann, though, who was brilliant and weird,
who stole a door at MIT, and when asked if he did it, said YES.
23: They still didn't believe him, though.
24: Damn shame he croaked.
25: Still, his Nobel Prize brought the richly deserved recognition
to utter silliness and practical jokiness.
26: And St. Fuller (Or St. Bucky, as he's affectionately called),
did Floyd (the great lout) also annoy.
27: Even though he was cool.
28: For he realized the importance of Synergy.
29: And built the Dymaxion Car. And Geodesic Domes.
30: Which was maybe not so good, because the Xennothemians used a
St. Fuller Dome to try to take over the world.
31: But St. Fuller, Synergy-Lord A La Extraordinaire, made possible
all sorts of understanding and mystical import things like that
there, which was all to the good.
32: Only, since I'm also Floyd, I'm a-gonna give up here.
33: Just as metaphoric the second time.
34: Or even metaphyvic.
35: Or thurtyphyvic.
Chapter 11. (First Book Of Evil)
1: And one day it came to pass that there was an evil blight upon
the land.
2: And verily was it evil.
3: And a blight.
4: Oh, and did I mention that it was upon the land?
5: Thought so.
DOWN WITH
Chapter 12. (Second Book Of Evil)
1: So anyways, there was this blight, see, and it was evil.
2: And the people did lament, for it did seem as though the evil
Bung was to be Secretary General of the United Nations, and
verily did they think that to be a catastrophe.
3: And truly were they upset.
4: Then one day came a strange man unto the land of Udduwah, and
he did bring the teachings of Bung to the people, and they did
say unto each other these words:
5: "Hey, this makes a lot of sense you know, man!"
6: And the people did abandon the ways of supply-side economics,
and taxable returns, and they were fruitful, and were merry.
7: Then one day there came a hideous winter on the land of
Udduwah, and every person of that land was cold and did shiver,
and made BRRRR noises.
8: And finally did a woman speak with the wisdom of her kind,
saying that it was the work of the Great MOO, and that the
acceptance of Bung was the cause of this.
9: And truly was it spoken by this woman, whose name was Mila,
that supply-side economics were the only true words of the
Great MOO.
10: And Mila did stand upon a great hill upon which there stood a
large building with a green roof, and a flame burning verily
from the very water that did flow from a fountain.
11: And amidst this splendour did Mila speak to the people of the
holy city of Udduwah, and did tell them of the truths of MOO.
12: For Mila had knowledge of That Evil Guy, and did prate unto
those who would lBLATTTen that the Evil One was to blame for
the economic misfortunes of the country in which stood the holy
city.
13: And indeed were the economic times harsh, for the Prime Rate
stood at only 3.6%, and verily were no investors interested
in borrowing.
14: And indeed had the dollar slumped to less than 82.3 cents per
U.S. dollar, and the trading volume of the market was down 54%
from the predicted norm for that financial quarter.
15: "Oh lBLATTTen," said the wise Mila, with the wisdom of her
ages.
16: "Oh lBLATTTen, that thou mayest understandeth the factth of
thith motht important matterst."
17: And truly did Mila remove a cat hair from her mouth, knowing
that it did make her talk like a fool.
17«: And Mila did puzzle for a moment, for truly had she forgotten
what she was saying.
18: "Oh yeah," spake Mila the Wise unto the people of Udduwah, who
were assembled on the great Hill of the magical fire.
19: "Oh yeah," spake she, remembering now what she was speaking on,
for truly had the memory been taken from her mind by the Evil
One.
20: "Learn ye now the ways of the Evil One, that ye may avoid them,
for truly is the Evil One a tory, and truly shall ye be bitten
by the ways of the tories if ye not know their ways."
21: But Mila lost her wisdom to the Evil One, and she spake at
great length on matters economic and financial, political and
hBLATTToric, and she lost her train of thought, for her soul
had been taken unto the very pit of the Evil One.
22: And thus ended the events of the second book of Evil.
23: This line does not belong here, but fell in from another
chapter entirely.
Chapter 13. (Third Book Of Evil)
1: Know ye the ways of evil, that ye may avoid them.
2: Firstly, know that Bung shall approach you in the guise of
truth, covering lies.
3: Know also that the Evil One shall speak when thou least
expecteth him to be speaking at you, that clever little bugger.
4: Know even more also that the Evil One is also a MOOist, for
truly is everyone a MOOist anyway.
5: And indeed, shalt thou follow the words of the Evil One, if
they seemeth reasonably reasonable to you.
6: However, thou art not to lBLATTTen to the words of the Evil
One, for they are truly evil, and thou musteth not, um,
lBLATTTen to evil stuff.
7: Like heavy metal music.
8: That's REALLY evil.
9: Yup.
10: And verily is the evil one manifest in the world in many ways,
for not only is "The Evil One" a title of MOO, but also is the
Evil One an evil, um... one.
11: And thou shalt cast out Bung from thy heart, for Bung is not
very nice. And is evil.
12: And truly shalt thou not accept him in any way shape or form,
for verily doth he disguise himself as a friend, and as the
truth.
13: But know you now the true form of Bung, for he is shapethed
like a rock, and rock-shaped is he, being of the shape similar
to and very much like a rock, as is a rock.
14: And when thou seeth Bung, shalt thou raise him on high and
speak unto the Great MOO, saying these words:
15: "Hey, look, I found a rock."
16: And then truly shalt thou put Bung back where thou foundethest
him, being the place where thou were doing the finding of him,
and his place where he was when thou found him.
17: And if in this way thou casteth all thoughts of the Evil One
from thy heart shalt thou genuinely and honestly be blessed.
18: But know you now that the Evil One will come in many guises
other than that of a rock, for truly is That Evil Guy
everywhere.
19: That Evil Guy may verily be manifested as a prime-minBLATTTer
of thy country, or a president of someone else's.
20: If thou perceiveth this to be the caseth, thou shalt be urged
on by little voices in thy head to leap from cliffs or to slit
thy wrBLATTTs.
21: But ignoreth thou these voices, for they are servants of That
Evil Guy, for truly are his servants everywhere.
22: And those voices which tell you to kill people, they are
servants of the Evil Person.
23: And those voices which speak unto you, saying these words:
24: Come one, wake up, it's time to get up!
25: Thou shalt also ignore these voices, for truly is it written,
and it's written right here, in fact, that the servans of the
Evil One are everywhere.
26: Indeed, any voice which speaketh to you is a servant of the
Evil One, and thou should kill it.
27: Honest.
28: And having said these words, we move on to a parable.
29: A parable.
30:
31: Did you see it?
32: Parable, n. 1) A discourse, tale, story, speech, comparison,
teaching, laying side-by-side of, analogy, proverb. From Gk,
para- (beside) bole (a throw), thus, placing beside.
33: 2) A comparison, similitude. Saying something to demonstrate
a point. See also, parable.
34: And now...
35: THE PARABLE:
36: Once upon a time, there was a wise old MOOist who lived in the
mountain, and owned much in the way of frozen deli meats, which
was maybe not quite so wise as it might have been, but on the
whole, he was fairly wise.
37: And one day, a seeker of knowledge went unto this wise old man
so that he might ask him of the truth, and demand an answer to
the nature of evil.
38: This was because the seeker was a fool, and kept thinking about
that kind of thing all day, and didn't understand the purpose
of MOO.
39: And this wise old MOOist, whose name was Joshu, lBLATTTened to
the seeker as his questions.
40: Then the MOOist spoke, telling the seeker what evil was.
41: And the words of the MOOist were these:
42: "Well, evil is, um... It's like, when stuff isn't very nice,
and it's bad. Okay, so like, evil is not good."
43: For verily was the old MOOist not so wise as he said he was.
44: But then the seeker went to another MOOist, who also lived in
those mountains.
45: And this second MOOist was even wiser than the first, for she
had some vague notion about what evil was all about.
46: And the seeker went unto the second MOOist, and asked her what
was the nature of evil, and whether he could have a box of
rasinettes.
47: (This commercial message not yet paid for by Rasinettes INC.
It is the duty of all MOOists to pester the people who make
them and remind them that they have an outstanding debt to the
Church Of MOO.)
48: And the wise MOOist did look around for some rasinettes, and
when she had found them, did return to speak to the seeker on
what evil is.
49: And her words were wise ones.
50: Or, um, well, the WORDS weren't particularly wise, but the
stuff she was talking about was wise. Or at least, the ideas
she was referring to were products of a wise mind when it was
being wise.
51: Her words were these:
52: "Evil is like a box of rasinettes. It's sort of glossy
cardboard on the outside, with a whole bunch of chocoloate-
coated raisins inside."
53: And the seeker was confused.
54: Which makes sense, since those were actually pretty damn stupid
words, when you think about it.
55: I mean, what would raisinettes be doing in an Evil?
Raisinettes are the food of the Great MOO, when she's not
munching on grass.
56: (This has been yet another example of why Raisinettes INC.
should pay us lots of money.)
57: Okay, so the parable was stupid.
58: Umm...
59: Okay, I have an idea. Here's a better way to explain what evil
is supposed to be. Suppose you have two people.
60: And one of these two people is a MOOist, and one of these two
people is a servant of the Evil One.
61: The MOOist will be nice to Bung until Bung does something
nasty.
62: But BUNG will be evil right away.
63: Does that help?
64: Didn't think so.
65: Okay, look. BUNG is evil, because BUNG isn't MOO, and anything
that isn't MOO is Evil. Never mind that Bung is a category of
MOOism. EVERYTHING is a category of MOOism.
66: Umm. No, forget I said that. Scratch Floyd 13,65 from memory.
67: I have a better idea.
68:
69: Wait for it! WAIT FOR IT!
70:
71: There's no such thing as Evil. They're all just different
sides of the same thing.
72: ...
73: That saves a lot of explanation, anyway.
Chapter of sayings.
Confuse-Ius once say "If you break a mirror, don't eat the silver."
ConfuCOWse-Ius once say "If you kick the bucket, you will stub your toe."
Confuse-I ---DEATH TO ALL--- us once say "Biting the bullet is the best
way to solve iron-deficiency."
Confuse-Ius twice say to me "If you do that again, I break your other arm."
Confuse-Ius say many times "@#!YU!#*&$#"
Confuse-Ius once say to lamppost "Your mother was a totem pole."
Confuse-Ius once say "Never Eat Shredded Wheat."
Confuse-Ius once say "When opportunity knocks, nobody's home."
Confuse-Ius once say "If you're happy you'll get over it."
Chapter 14. (Yet ANOTHER Book Of EvilFNORD!)
1: A long, long time ago, in a Galaxy far, far away...
2: There sat a small annoying mind drug, which was titled The
Great Book Of MOO.
3: And truly, it was kinda like this one, you know? Only it
wasn't quite so nicely edited, and it was a little shorter, and
the binding was laced with red string.
4: And printed upon the pages of this book was the stupidest pile
of nonsense that the Great MOO did ever lay eyes on, and she
did wonder why she even bothered to get up some mornings.
5: It then occurred to her that she didn't, for she was always
awake and was real omniscient and everything like that.
6: Which was cool.
7: So she thought unto herself that she should make this annoying
mind drug a book of Evil, so that all might see it for what it
was, and make silly faces at it so that it might feel
embarrassed.
8: And verily was it a decree of the Great MOO that all must look
upon a book entitled The Great Book Of MOO with dBLATTTaste.
9: For truly is that book a book of great Evil, being written by
That Evil Guy.
10: And so it came to pass that the Great Book Of MOO became a book
of Evil, and its followers all Evil.
11: So you'd better all follow THIS Great Book Of MOO, for it is
the only real one. Any Book that claims otherwise is lying.
KILL IT!
12: And so you must see the followers of these books for the silly
people that they are.
13: For though you are silly too, you shouldn't jump to conclusions
about which silly is a GOOD silly, and which is planted by
BUNG.
14: And when meetest thou a follower of Evil, accosteth him thusly:
15: "Yo! Evil person! I know you're Evil, so there's no point
even trying to hide it! YES YOU! Stop being Evil or ELSE!"
16: And if the Evil one says "Or else what?" thou shalt welcome
that Evil one as actually being a MOOist in disguise.
17: And if the Evil One sayeth not "Or Else What?" thou shalt also
welcome that Evil One as actually being a MOOist in disguise,
and stop pretending there's such a thing as Evil.
18: But if the Evil One does neither of these two things, thou
must accost him thus:
19: "In the name of someone or other, STOP BEING EVIL!"
20: Repeateth thou this behaviour until the Evil Bung stops being
so Evil anymore, and there's no such thing.
21: And thus ended the proclamation of the Great MOO.
22: And the Penguin did grin, and the MOOists did all feast upon
carp and ocelots and breakfast cereals, and celery with this
sort of curry-salsa hot sauce, which actually tastes much
better than it sounds.
23: Honest.
Chapter 15. (Book Of Infiltrations)
1: Speaking of EVIL.
2: The Holy Church of the Great MOO is the target of a LOT of
Evil.
3: They can't wait to get their grubby hands on us.
4: The CapriCancers, the Xennothemians, the Conspiracy. All of
'em.
5: They know our destiny, so they try to INFILTRATE!
6: You're not a secret infiltrator, ARE YOU?
7: Hmm.
8: The Xennothemians got Lloyd, my brother.
9: A thing came out of his stomach. Or maybe he pupated. I
forget.
10: Anyway, he was taken over by aliens. That's the main thing.
11: They snuck some bullshit into this book, but we dunno what.
12: And the CapriCancers.
13: Not ONLY can they not decide when they were born, they're EVIL.
14: They got Leper Messiah, one of our earliest and silliest.
15: They warped his mind.
16: And made him think silliness was "fuckin' stoopid".
17: They ALMOST got Hellhound 101.
18: They make us turn against one another, for paranoia.
19: They use evil mind-control laser things.
20: From the Kremlin, yeah, the Kremlin! The commies weren't using
the gear anymore, so the aliens and CapriCancers got it!
21: To try to destroy us!
22: But you won't let THAT happen, will you?
23: Didn't THINK so.
Chapter 16. (Book Of The Future)
1: So one day, the Penguin spoke to the Earth. And the words
which He spoke were long and many, but can be summarized.
2: And he claimed that they were agreed-to by the Great MOO, but
the Great MOO refused to make comment.
3: And it was unknown at the time whether this was agreed-on stuff
or not. But the Penguin claimed that it was why the Great MOO
had given the word of MOO unto humans, and not just Cows.
4: But this is unclear.
5: At any rate...
6: (MIDDLE SECRET)
7: So the words of the Penguin was transcribed by the unknowing
Grate Profit of the Penguin, who made it known by strange means
involving grape jelly unto a man named Hans.
8: And Hans did sort of write down some of it in his own vague
way.
9: And the conclusion was frightening, but he wasn't frightened,
because Hans wasn't easily scared.
10: And the words were something approximately like these:
11: Some day, the Universe, this tiny bit of Tundra in which we
live, near many infinities of other Universes, will die a
heat-death.
12: And verily shall Entropy and other evil demons take posession
of it and it shall sort of wind down and sputter to a halt.
13: And truly, this shall be a manifestation of the goddess Eris
and her brother QUACK. For together they broke the Universe.
But this is of no importance, for QUACK shall drop it on the
floor anyway.
14: But the word of MOO as carried by the Humans and the Cow is a
unique word of MOO, and must escape. Mustn't it? Kinda sorta?
15: So it is thus the will of the Great MOO that the Humans devise
for themselves a way to escape the Universe, so that they may
spread the word unto the other Universes.
16: And to do this, it is proposed that they must do something.
17: Which makes sense, because you can't really get something done
without doing anything, can you?
18: Well, actually, you can, and the way you do it is
19: (TOP SECRET)
20: So there's no point, really, is there?
21: So, while all other beings that inhabit the Universe also carry
their truth of the Word of MOO and the Penguin, Humans too must
escape the breaking of the Universe.
22: And the thing that they must do to do this is rather
complicated and hard to describe, but fairly important anyway.
23: And it is said by the unconfirmed Penguin that this is why He
and She spread their Word unto us, so that we may do this.
24: But the Penguin may just be doing this as part of the Great
Nomic Game, for the ways of the Penguin are mysterious, though
not as mysterious as the ways of the Great MOO, or the Fire
Hydrant, who sprays water on things for no good reason.
25: Well, except that it puts out fires if they get too dangerous.
26: But then, some MOOists might object to that.
27: The Penguin doesn't care, and CLAIMS that the Great MOO
doesn't.
28: Everything is true, however. So what he says MUST be true...
29: See? See? SEE?!?!?
30: At any rate, the point is, what Humans and Cows and Penguins
(and Wombats and Emus and Pine Trees) must do to escape this
universe is Evolve.
31: For this is in the way of Nomic. It changes. And so, as with
the Game, so with Life, change will happen. Won't it?
32: Anyway, to evolve faster, says the Penguin (and a rutabaga) the
thing to do is have as many different things all at once, and
keep changing everything, so that the best stuff can be
collected together to help in this task.
33: And this is why the Church of MOO exBLATTTs. For our Holy Duty
is too keep changing so that we can spread the word as a
wakened person spreads butter on toast in the morning. Unless
the person doesn't like toast, in which case they sometimes
spread butter on a pancake.
34: Or maybe, if they don't like butter, they spread JAM on their
toast.
35: So anyways, the Church of MOO exBLATTTed only to be different,
and for no other reason, to shake up the minds of those around
from settling like silt, or like that icky stuff at the bottom
of a jar of Honey when it begins to crystalize.
36: And by changing all the time, and only by this sacredest of all
Nomicness things and such, uh, stuff like that there what I
said, can we do that thing that I said before.
37: (NOT REALLY SECRET AT ALL, JUST NOT WRITTEN DOWN HERE)
38: And so it is for this reason (so says the Penguin) that we play
Nomic and Calvinball, and that we try not to be consBLATTTent.
39: But it is important to have some people who know all kinds of
scientific things, for this is one way we may evolve. Maybe.
40: At least, this is how the Penguin claims we must behave to
escape the Heat-Death.
41: We have no proof of this, and neither the Penguin nor the Great
MOO will explain why we would WANT to spread the Word to other
Universes.
42: And the Moral of the Story is, you can't really trust a God or
Goddess to give you the whole story.
43: For verily, you probably wouldn't understand it anyway, for it
is all in the Nature of the Game to be strange, and require us
to do things we don't understand.
44: But after all, the Game is democatic. You had your say.
45: What are you complaining about?
46: So C'MON, you dimwit, get out there and EVOLVE for the sake of
MOO!
47: And, like, play Nomic, and do stuff different ALL THE TIME, eh?
48: Uh. Yeah, that.
49: C'mon. Stop reading. This book is OVER, man!
50: THE END! OKAY?! THERE ISN'T ANY MORE!
51: ...
52: Oh, wait! I forgot the most important part!
53: The reason for the saints and stuff! And, like, short term, uh
that stuff there.
54: Now, yea and verily, the next bit is the actual last part of
the book of The Future.
55: The reasons for the saints are partly what is said above, but
even more important is the reason for the choosing of Saint
Lennon.
56: And truly did this revelation come unto the Spokesperson To
The Primordial Penguin, in that capacity, but was considered
important enough to be a MOO thing. Like.
57: And verily, this reason was in the nature of his music. For
the music of the Beatles is always different.
58: And indeed does it change muchly from song to song.
59: Ayup.
60: And this is good, for truly does it free the mind.
61: And this came from much meditation on the Sgt. Pepper album,
Abbey Road, and Penny Lane, for truly are those the coolest
albums they ever made.
62: Except the White Album.
63: And yet none of them other Beatles are dead!
64: But truly is it spoken that change is not the only good thing.
65: For in order to evolve, it is necessary to keep some things the
same, and to have some kind of continuation.
66: Or something.
67: So truly should we change things when we can, but not too
often.
68: And verily, the Church of MOO shall change, as shall the Temple
Of the Primordial Penguin. And yet these changes shall not be
rushed, for they just woke up, and haven't had their coffee
yet.
69: And, well, this is the true part of the Book Of MOO.
70: (CENSORED)
71: Or so it says of itself, anyways.
72: But then, so does the rest.
73: Ah, hell, who cares? EVERYTHING is true! (And untrue!)
74: And this really IS the end of this book.
75: Honest.
76:
77:
78:
79:
80:
81-89: [CENSORED]
90: WHAT? Are you *STILL* here? Get on with the next chapter,
will ya?
Chapter 23. (Book Of Stone Carvings)
1: Once upon a wombat, in the world of said wombat,
4: There lived a Hellhound >101<
9: Who has nothing to do with this story.
16: But who did inscribe a Halfy on a rock.
25: He did this in the land of the Gerbil.
36: Which is known as Gobi.
49: And the Halfy was a "W", for Wombat.
64: For truly that is what it actually means.
81: For "W" is the 23rd letter.
Chapter 24. (The Book Of LBLATTTs)
1: LBLATTTlessness
1: WBLATTTfully gazing.
2: Hey, mBLATTTer, can you spare ten bucks for a cuppa coffee?
3: It was a mBLATTTy morning in Scotland.
5: TwBLATTT my rubber arm, why dontcha?
8: Burrito Twelve.
13: Merry ChrBLATTTmas and a HAPPY HAPPY GNU Year!
21: Everyone is happy in a charBLATTmatic dictatorship.
34: Newton split light into spectra with a prBLATT.
55: SchBLATT.
89: This is pointless.
Chapter 25. (Book Of Letters, Numbers, and Animals)
2: Emu.
3: Q.
5: Wombat.
7: Z.
11: Rhinoceros.
13: U.
17: Tyrannosaurus Rex.
19: Omega.
23: Platypus.
29: A.
31: Felix Domesticus.
37: Q again.
41: Burrito 12.
Chapter 40. (Book of Inane Comments)
1: And the High Preest did make comment upon the weather.
2: And the words of his commenting about the weather were dumb,
inane, and foolish, but yea and verily are they reproduced in
this book, because, hey! why not?
3: The words of the High Preest were something along the lines of
these (though not really all that exact, y'know?):
4: "Gosh it's hot. It's kinda hot today, you know? Uh... yea and
verily and that stuff, eh?"
5: "Yes indeedy, there is a high pressure region over this area of
the country right now, and that, combined with the angle of
sunlight incident... well, it's DAMN hot, eh?"
6: And verily, everyone did look at the High Preest as if he were
a fool.
7: But this was nothing new, so he ignored it, and hopped up and
down on one leg, flapping his arms like a bird and making
Goose-Noises.
8: And when he was asked "What's with the goofy dance, you moron?"
he did stop, think about it for a sec, and return to his inane
comments about the weather that day in the Wombat World.
9: And his comments, though equally stupid as the last ones, are
even so reproduced in here.
10: And he continued to say how hot it was, until everyonegot fed
up, and threw buckets of water on him, and he did become wet
with the wetness of the water that had been in the buckets
until it stopped being there and started being on him.
11: And he said "Gosh it's wet today."
12: And everyone sighed and went home.
13: The High Preest stood alone, and spake unto himself like a
schitzo.
14: And the words of his speaking unto himself were these:
15: "Oh well."
16: And then he finished off a final inane comment, saying:
17: "Hey, wait a sec... Penny Lane wasn't an album!"
18: And fell on a honker-horn and broke a rib.
Chapter 41. (Book Of Cow Catapulting)
1: Atrox, the servant oh the Great Cow, has spoken, saying:
2: "Yo. I can get a cow."
3: And the MOOists applauded long and loud, saying:
4: "We're happy and boy are we ever rejoicing."
5: And indeed did he fetch forth a cow, and indeed was the cow
magnificent.
6: But zoning regulations forbade the entrance of this cow unto
the city, and the MOOists did become angered at the demon
zoning regulations.
7: And indeed was the cow heavily camouflaged, and hidden secretly
from the police, or, as they were known in those days, the
Fuzz.
8: But verily, yea, and man this is true, swear on my mother's
eyes, the cow was not permitted to be catapulted at the Prime
MinBLATTTer during his speech.
9: And the idea of catapulting a Holy Cow, neat as it was, was
given up.
10: And the MOOists did hold their first true MOOFest.
11: Only not really.
12: Because this is only a story.
13: And a MOOFest has never actually happened.
Chapter 42. (The Book Of The Trial Of Quack)
1: And it came to pass that in the land of the Wombat, the High
Preest of MOO met the false prophet of Quack.
2: And the High Preest cam unto the False Prophet and a trial came
to pass.
3: And though great hardships were bestowed upon him by beavers
and bricks and wombats and aliens, the High Preest held the
trial
4: And the High Preest became Judge, Jury, Prosecutor and
Executioner, for he was ruler and his cause was just.
5: And the QUACKBLATTTS were led unto the High Preest's throne in
the Wombat World, all the time screaming heresies from their
lips against MOO.
6: And the names of the heretics were read, and they were these:
I Yemen-Oying
E Izzan-Oying
U Aaron-Oying
and D Aaron Oying
7: And the High Preest spake unto the False Prophet, saying
"GUILTY! GUILTY! GUILTY!... uh... are we on camera?"
8: And the Oying brothers did nod, grinning.
9: And the High Preest grinned sheepishly.
10: And the High Preest got fed up with starting each verse with
"and".
11: The High Preest spaked unto the False-Nose Profit of QUACK
saying "So who's your lawyer?"
12: I Yemen-Oying did speak unto the High Preest.
13: The words of the annoying one were these:
14: "Whather-BLOODY-hell is it to you, wombat nose!?!"
15: The High Preest looked at the False-Nose-In-The-Book
Profit-Margin-Of-Error quizzically.
16: The High Preest spake again, saying "Okay. You're guilty
then."
17: And the two followers of the False-Nose-In-The-Book-About-
Land-Mines-Profit-Margin-Of-UNDEF'D-STATEMENT-ERROR-IN-66304,
named U Aaron-Oying and E Izzan-Oying started up a sing song.
18: They sungst these words: "There ain't no God but Quack!" over
and over again until the High Preest threwst a brick at them.
19: I Yemen-Oying spoked then unto the High Preest, saying "We
represent ourselves."
20: The High Preest looked over his glasses at the followers of the
False-Nose-In-The-Annoying-Mind-Drug-About-Land-Miner's-
UnionBLATTT-Strikes-Back-Stabbing-Profit-Margerine-Of-Error-
In-Line-Curve-Or- Circle-Back-To-Where-You-Start-Over-Again...
uh... where was I?
21: And the High Preest spoke unto those guys there, saying "He who
defends himself has a fool for a client. So you're a fool, and
would do such horrible things as this HEINOUS crime you've been
accused of. GUILTY! GUILTY! GUILTY!"
22: And the Oying brothers stoodeth dumbfoundedly, and the High
Preest snickered... and Mars Barred.
23: The heretics were taken from the court then, and, for their
evil, heinous, and not at all nice ways, devoured by the
Doubter Circle of MOO.
24: But at the end, they did chant songs of their False Gods,
saying these things:
25: "We shall resurrect! For though our Gods don't exBLATTT, MAN
are they powerful and nice to their followers!"
26: "We shall overco-o-o-o-me! We shall overco-o-o-o-o-me!"
27: "Hey <crunch> look! It's El<crunch>vis! <crunch> Oh well, it
was worth a try.
28: "We will be back! Sha-na-na-na! Sha-na-na-na! Hey, hey,
hey... GOODBYE!"
29: And the High Preest respondeth "Bye."
30: In this way did Floyd Gecko, the High Preest, bring down the
heretics of QUACK.
31: For truly it is written down somewhere. I just can't find it
right now. I'll give it to you tomorrow. I swear.
Chapter 43. (There Is No Chapter 43)
1:
2:
3:
Spam
Chapter 69. (The Book Of Logic)
1: To Prove: Jesus was a Puerto-Rican Voodoo-Surfer.
2: 1) Jesus had long hair. Surfers have long hair.
3: 2) Jesus walked on water. Surfers walk on water.
4: 3) Jesus acted strangely. Surfers act strangely.
5: 4) Jesus was mellow. Surfers are mellow.
6: Ergo: Jesus was a surfer, by Floyd's Law of Likelihood. FNORD!
7: 1) Jesus raised from the dead. Voodoo raises from the dead.
8: 2a) Jesus had a Puerto-Rican name.
9: 2b) Puerto-Rico is in Latin America.
10: 2c) Voodoo is common in Latin America.
11: Ergo, Jesus was a Puerto-Rican Voodoo-Guy. Q.E.D.
12: The story is as follows...
13: One fine day, Jesus set out on a transatlantic surf-o-thon.
14: Eventually he entered the Mediterranean, and went to Judea.
15: There, his strange Puerto-Rican-Voodoo style drew attention.
16: He used it to bring followers to his mellow way of life.
17: He preached his SurferPhilosophyTM and founded a cult.
18: It got WAAAAAY out of hand.
19: And that's the way it is.
20: Can't argue with logic.
21: Anope.
Chapter 101. (The Book Of)
1: Note: This chapter has been cleaned by the U.S. Military.
57: And truly was it nifty.
105: And he did be being spokifying unto the people assembled
there, and was did having been being saying being unto them
the word which did be having been were about to be being
escaping his lips.
256: Wow.
1729: Umm...
1000000000: Long book, eh?
Chapter 125. (The Book Of The Heresy Of The Hound)
7: And it was deemed "uncool" to throw Pudding.
13: And yet Hellhound >101< was determined to be a Pudding Culter.
15: For he was He Who Has Nearly Come Face To Face With The Great
Pudding Itself But Slept Through The Whole Thing.
28: But it was no use.
31: For the Hound had censoring equipment.
Chapter 216. (The Book Of Paradoxes)
1: And it one day came to pass in the land of the Wombat that
there was a sentence.
2: And the sentence was untrue.
3: And the sentence was cast out from its friends and molested by
small furry animals for its heinous falsehood.
4: And the sentence was this one.
5: But verily unto that sentence there came a revelation, which
was very revealing, as it is the nature of revelations to be.
6: And the revelation was that the sentence did not exBLATTT.
7: And yet verily unto that sentence there came oblivion.
8: There is no 8.
9: Truly, said one man unto another man, when the great Noah saved
us all from the Bungicious Fire Hydrant, he did a good deed.
10: And the second said,
11: "That doesn't belong in this chapter!"
12: And verily was what he said both true and false, as it is with
most stupid things that don't really matter anyway.
13: And verily did there end the stupid book of Paradoxes, for it
was a dumb idea to begin with, and doesn't even exBLATTT in
this version.
Chapter 217. (Second Book Of Paradox)
1: In the beginning was the end, and in the end was the beginning,
and so went the word of the one whom the words spoke.
2: In the end was the end, though the beginning hadn't happened
yet.
3: And so I went unto the house of a trickster, who was known for
her hobby of hiding eggs, and I proclaimed that I could find
any egg she could hide.
4: And so she said unto me these words:
5: You may be able to find an egg, but you may not suspect where
it lies.
6: And I replied unto her, saying this:
7: With my unlimited knowledge, I can anticipate the lair of any
egg which you may squirrel away.
8: And this upset the trickster, for her life was based on hiding
eggs so well that nobody could find them.
9: And so she went and fetched ten boxes, and told me that she
would hide the egg, and that I was to open the boxes in order,
from the first to the last, and in doing even that I would not
be able to predict the location of the egg.
10: So I said unto the trickster,
11: Hide the egg now, and I will turn away.
12: And I turned and thought, and a realization came unto me.
13: For I saw that the egg could not be in the last box, for if I
was to open the other nine, and find it in none, I would not be
at all surprised.
14: And knowing that the egg could not be in the last, if I opened
the first eight, finding the egg nowhere, I would anticipate
the ninth.
15: And I saw that this continued to the very first, which was the
only possible hiding spot of the egg, and I smiled, knowing
that I had won.
16: So the trickster told me to turn again, and I saw the boxes
lined up on the table between us, and she was sitting across
from me, watching.
17: So I opened the first box, knowing that the egg was in there,
but lo, the egg was absent, and I frowned.
18: So I opened the second box, and seeing that the egg was not
there, my puzzlement increased, for as I opened each box, I was
more sure that the egg was in the last ones.
19: But lo, as I opened each box, no egg was to be found, and when
the last box was open, and I found no egg, I looked up from the
boxes and stared at the trickster.
20: And she pushed the egg in my face.
21: So it came to pass that I was humbled in my quest for
knowledge, knowing that I could not even predict the behaviour
of an egg.
22: So I wiped the egg from my face, and told the trickster some
wise words which I knew from long ago:
23: "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."
24: And I told her of my quest for knowledge of everything.
25: And the trickster smiled.
26: She asked me then if I thought I could hide an egg so well that
she would not be able to find it, and I said I thought I could.
27: So she gave me the boxes in which to hide the egg, saying that
I might hide the egg in any of the boxes, mix them up as much
as I liked, and she would find it.
28: I laughed, and put the egg in a box. She turned, and I removed
the egg, as she had done. Then I thought. She knew that I
would remove the egg, for it was her own trick.
29: So I painted a spot on the egg, so that she would not fool me
again, and then I put the egg back in the box, and mixed them
up.
30: She turned, and arranged the boxes back in a row.
31: She pointed to the first, and said there was no egg. And there
was no egg inside. She did the same to the second, and to the
third, and to the fourth.
32: Skipping the fifth, she predicted that there would be no egg in
any of the others, and flipped them open, and there was no egg.
33: Finally, she said there would be no egg in the fifth, and I
smiled, knowing that she thought I had taken the egg away.
34: Then, from her pocket, she took the egg, and I saw that it had
a spot painted on it, just as I had done, and I knew that she
had fooled me yet again.
35: So I turned to leave in shame, and then angrily kicked over the
fifth box.
36: And out fell my spotted egg. And at that point I understood.
Chapter 250. (The Ninth Book Of And)
1: And so it came to pass that there was a great Flying Saucer.
2: And it crashed in Sweden.
3: And it made a big boom.
4: And verily was the boom big.
5: And all did say unto themselves "What the fuck was that?"
6: And all did wonder.
7: And all did approach the Flying Saucer.
8: And so it came to pass that Bubba the Alien did emerge.
9: And did wave.
10: And the people of Sweden did wave back at Bubba.
11: And it developed that Bubba looked reasonably personable.
12: And the Swedes made Bubba their President.
13: And so it was that Sweden was taken by the Aliens.
Chapter 256. (EpBLATTTle To The Quackers)
(Returned due to insufficient postage)
1: You foolish folk of QUACK, I send unto you this letter so that
you may, umm... well, that you may read it.
2: For truly are you all so foolish that you probably know not
the meaning of the word "epBLATTTle"... Well, it's a letter,
okay, you evil QUACKERS?
3: At any rate, I send this letter thing unto you that you may
understand the words of the Great MOO, our highest God in the
whole of all that is, isn't, and might be if only someone got
around to doing it.
4: You, with your laws and rules shall lBLATTTen truly.
5: For the Great MOO said unto her people,
6: DO WHAT THOU WILT SHALL BE THE WHOLE OF THE LAW.
7: And truly is this sensible, for it tells the stars to shine,
the water to flow, and the cows to MOO. But you, with your
ways and ideas, think it evil.
8: Would you tell the water to stand still, do a dance, or eat
rye bread, when that is not what it wishes to do?
9: Would you tell the stars to go out, when that is not what they
wish to do?
10: Would you tell a cow how to chew its cud, or how to stand, or
tell it to say QUACK instead of MOO, if that is not what it
wishes to do?
11: Would you tell a man or woman to speak QUACK, or to wear a tie,
or tell them which "God" to worship, if that is not what they
with to do?
12: Say then, why you insBLATTT upon your laws.
13: For truly, the more laws there are, the more crime there is,
for obeying rules is not what humans wish to do.
14: DO WHAT THOU WILT SHALL BE THE WHOLE OF THE LAW.
15: This is the truth that we of the Great MOO can see. For we do
not tell our people how to act, what to think, or whether to
worship our Goddess.
16: For truly, with your vague fluffy-flummerry arounding type
activities have you made the land more confused and full of
hatred than any mere breaking of a law.
17: And indeed, you seek revenge against those who break your
laws, and try to hurt them,
18: And you do not see that this only makes more hurt, not less.
19: Why would a man hurt another man, if not to get him back?
20: See what you have caused, you annoying pests? Now stop it
and bloody well convert to MOOism before I hit you with a
big stick!
21: For truly is it written...
22: Somewhere...
23:
24: Hang on a sec, I have it here somewhere...
25: Well anyway, it's written.
26: Oh, here it is.
27: DO WHAT THOU WILT SHALL BE THE WHOLE OF THE LAW.
Chapter 625. (The Book Of Druggies)
00001: There is no drug but QUACK!
00002: Well, or something like that.
00003: I dunno the real name of it.
00004: All other drugs are False Prophets.
00005: Don't be takin' 'em, maaan!
00006: QUACK is the One True Drug.
00007: The One True Drug cannot exBLATTT.
00008: But it has many names.
00009: Bliss, ZZ-74, Tri-Beak, CCMV, 'Frop...
00010: But none of these are REAL, maaan.
00011: The true name is unpronounceable, unspellable.
00012: But just thinkin' the name is enough to get ya high.
00013: For truly, though it may not be real, it's SO POWERFUL that
even IMAGINARY quantities in your brain are enough.
00014: Thinking about it is enough to get you addicted, if that
were possible, which it isn't, because it isn't addictive.
00015: Honest.
00016: Saying the name is enough to get you STONED.
00017: LOOKING AT IT blows your mind straight into another
universe.
00018: How do you think I GOT HERE, MAAAN?
00019: Actually ingesting the stuff... Well, nobody's ever tried.
00020: The effects are probably quite evil.
00021: Only the Penguin and the Grate MOO are known to use it.
00022: Mere Multiverse occupants, we can't, maaan.
00023: But I saw some in another universe.
00024: And my world changed. For it was labelled.
00025: And not only did I see it, but I saw the name.
00026: Well, see, it was labelled in the Gloop language.
00027: And so my world changed.
00028: And the world it changed into was this one, eventually.
00029: Don't talk to me about before.
00030: All other drugs have effect by way of QUACK. Or whatever.
00031: 'Cuz your BODY knows about it, even if you don't.
00032: And it starts thinking "Hey, is that QUACK in my blood?"
00033: And the mere subconscious thought starts it up.
00034: The Effect of QUACK, fullblown, is all other drugs, both
real and imaginary, put together.
00035: That's why it's not addictive.
00036: It's not for normal minds.
00037: Fuck, look at these sentences, MAAAN!
00038: This does, however, explain a whole fuckin' lot about the
world we live in... All the Gods are QUACK addicts.
00039: QUACK: drug of the Gods.
00040: Like nectar and ambrosia, only not really.
00041: There ain't no QUACK but God!
00042: There ain't no drug but God!
00043: There ain't no God but drugs!
00044: There ain't no QUACK but drugs!
00045: There ain't no God but QUACK!
00046: There ain't no drug but QUACK!
00047: But it's not really called QUACK.
00048: That was a flight of whimsy.
00049: The Grate MOO showed me some once.
00050: At least, I THINK that's who it was.
00051: It's not a powder, not a liquid, not anything.
00052: It's not even air, like ZZ-74.
00053: It's just sort of NOTHING.
00054: Because it's imaginary.
00054: It came to me in a dream.
00056: 'Cuz I'd been wondering what it would look like.
00057: And so it came to me in a dream.
00058: And it's so powerful that even the imaginary stuff, in a
dream no less, was enough to bend and warp the fabric of
spacetime itself, and throw me to another universe.
00059: The real stuff doesn't just WARP space.
00060: It doesn't just BEND space.
00061: It doesn't just MANGLE space.
00062: It IS space. Or something.
00063: The One True Drug lies outside space and time.
00064: The One True Drug lies outside possibility.
00065: The One True Drug lies outside mind and form.
00066: The One True Drug lies outside, OKAY? JUST OUTSIDE!
00067: Wanna go outside?
00068: Gotta dress up snug 'n' warm.
00069: Think on it.
00070: Your other drugs, they kinda POINT.
00071: They make urgent gestures, but that's about it.
00072: They don't GO there.
00073: They try to show the real world.
00074: They just show the gaps in the fake one.
00075: Only the One True Drug lets you LOOK THROUGH.
00076: But how is the name SPELLED?
00077: There are hints enough in this book to figure it out.
00078: And when ya do, think about the name.
00079: Cuz the TRUE NAME is more than enough.
00080: Cuz the REAL THING just don't exBLATTT.
00081: But the hallucinations are real.
00082: Cuz ya stay there, maaan.00083: I mean, you lucie there's
a mugwump, there's a damn mugwump.
00084: They're so strong, other people see 'em.
00085: When enough people figure out the name, or hear it, there's
gonna be enough QUACK, imaginary as it is, around.
00086: Enuff fer what?
00087: You don't wanna know.
00088: But it's related to how to fit in a Post Office Box.
00089: Can YOU fit in a Post Office box?
00090: QUACK is not Bliss, ZZ-74, 'Frop, CCMV, Tri-Beak, Mints, or
ANYTHING.
00091: Their names don't tell you how to fit in a P.O. Box, eh? Confuse-Ing Inter-Rapture #2.718281828459045235360 00092: Their names aren't drugs.
00093: QUACK, it's so POWERFUL that even the MENTION of it, or the
slightest thought of the Real Stuff is actual POWER.
00094: It's lucid dreaming in the illusion of the world.
00095: I'm not talkin' no diddley-shit stuff, either.
00096: I mean like you don't just feel enlightened.
00097: You actually make your own hallucinations.
00098: And your lucies are always true.
00099: In some universe.
00100: So go there.
00101: It's that simple.
00102: All you need's the name.
00103: And that's hidden in this Book.
00104: So just think of the Real Stuff.
00105: And hope you can aim right when you finally make it.
00106: Power of Akira.
00107: So don't fuck up, stupid.
00108: Like Krishna and them Avatars, they're Godly incarnations.
00109: So they're addicts.
00110: Dr. Manhattan? BLUE! And Krishna? He's blue.
00111: So what about those Akira blue-dudes?
00112: NOW do you believe me? FNORD!
00113: If not, think about Smurfs.
00114: That should prove it.
00115: Anyway, this is a cool metaphor, but a lousy chapter.
Chapter 660. (The Book Of Did I Mention)
1: Did I mention this book is toll-free?
Chapter 666. (The Book Of Revelations)
1: I walked out into the land of BO, and I did receivce a great
voice into my ears, having no other choice.
2: And the Voice said:
3: Floyd, I will tell you of things to come, and things that
have yet to be, and things that haven't happened yet, but
will later.
4: And I said:
5: Okay.
6: And a vision came upon me.
7: And I was in the Future, which was neat, cause there were lots
of flying cars and things. Then the Voice said LOOK AROUND.
8: So, not wanting to be a spoilsport, I looked around. And I
saw that it was 1998, by the calendar on the wall next to me.
9: But I also saw great flying disks which were sort of flying
along with the flying cars, only bigger. And a great Voice,
which was different from the one that was talking to me,
spoke to the crowds.
10: And the GNU voice said:
11: People of Earth, your attention please. Your attention please.
PLEASE! YOUR ATTENTION! CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE?!?!
12: And the crowd said:
13: Yeah?
14: And the Voice Said:
15: I am "BOB". I have come to Earth to pick up my disciples. Any
of you my disciples?
16: And many of them said yes, and they were taken into the great
flying circles, and my vision followed them. And I was with
them as they were taken.
17: On the flying disks, I saw them transformed into beings of
great light and power, and I looked out of the window, and
saw that the people on the ground below were as ants.
18: Then I noticed that they were ants, and we hadn't taken off
yet.
19: Then I compared the real people on the ground to these GNU
beings that had been "BOB"'s disciples. The people still
seemed like ants, but not as much as the ants did. Funny,
that.
20: But as I saw this, the saucers lifted away from the Earth,
and were gone, but my vision stayed on Earth, where the
people didn't seem to have noticed the saucers.
21: The people had noticed, though, that they seemed a bit
happier than they were. But this soon faded, because the
unhappy ones kept bugging the happy ones.
22: Which I thought was a shame.
23: And soon, my vision faded, and reappeared later. I could
tell that it was later because there were more flying cars.
24: And I looked at the calendar, and it was 2007.
25: I looked at the crowd, and saw that they were walking along,
just as usual, all annoyed at each other. Then the Voice
said:
26: It is time for the great transition of the Penguin.
27: And I saw in the faces of the people of the crowd that they
were suddenly no longer so much irritated as worried. It
had struck them that the planet was in danger.
28: I thought "No kidding, ya morons."
29: And I was there as they began to fiddle around and try to fix
up the planet, though they didn't do a super-hot job of it.
30: But soon the vision faded again, and I was there far, far
in the future, when things were different, and there was a
GNU Voice in the sky.
31: And the voice was as a trumpet, and it went on for a while,
as if it didn't notice that nobody understood what it was
talking about.
32: Then Jehovah appeared, as in a dream, and dictated some
letters to his secretary, and sent them to seven stars,
who wrote back that they were too busy acting movies right
now, and couldn't attend the end of the world.
33: And there was this sort of Lamb thing there, only it had fur
that was sort of like it was on fire, and its eyes were red
hot coals, and its voice was like a tuba in mating season,
and it was holding a book.
34: And I couldn't figure out why the book didn't catch on fire,
what with that really wierd flambee Lamb thing holding it.
35: And there were seven signs. They were these:
36: The signs were: STOP; YIELD; NO LEFT TURN; NO U TURNS;
ALL DOGS MUST BE ON LEASH; HIDDEN INTERSECTION and
CONSTRUCTION CREW WORKING, ROAD CLOSED.
37: And after the seven signs, there were seven seals on the
book, and the Lamb-Thingy said unto the Humans below:
38: Is there anybody who can break these seven seals?
39: And the seals looked scared, and went "arf arf" and clapped
their fins together, then realized the mBLATTTake, and became
wax seals. And the Lamb rolled its eyes.
40: And the Lamb waited, and sat down on a throne, and I suddenly
noticed the thrones, of which there were twenty-four.
41: I also noticed that near the thrones there were some pets
or something. Then I realized that they weren't pets, on
account of they were talking to each other.
42: Then I noticed that they were all full of eyes, and were
looking around them waiting for someone who could break the
seals of the book, and nobody stepped forth.
42: The first of these beings was like a lion on its face, and
it had the whole bunch of eyes in it, or something.
43: The second was like a little baby cow, and I thought for a
moment that it was the daughter of the Great MOO, but I guess
it wasn't, for it was full of eyes, and sat at the feet of
Jehovah and the Lamb.
44: The third was like a Human, and seemed kind of confused, but
maybe that was just because it was full of eyes.
45: The last was like an eagle, and it wasn't flying, but it,
like the other three, had six wings and had eyes all over,
inside and out. Wierd, eh?
46: Anyway, the Lamb got fed up with all this waiting nonsense,
and broke the first seal. And the first creature yelled
"C'mere!".
48: So I looked around, and whaddaya know, there was this big
white doughnut, and some wacko was sitting on it as if he
thought it was a horse. So I ate the doughnut.
49: So the Lamb broke another seal, and the second creature
yelled "C'mere!" and I looked and some dimwit was climbing
onto a red donut with a sword. So I ate the donut.
50: Meanwhile, the Lamb was looking annoyed, and broke the third
seal, and the third creature yelled "C'mere!" and I saw some
fool sitting on a black donut with a bathroom scale. I threw
out the donut, because it was stale.
51: Then some voice in the middle of the creatures started quoting
stock market prices until Jehovah sat on it.
52: The Lamb, which now seemed to be in a hurry, broke the fourth
seal, and the fourth creature yelled "C'mere!".
53: So I looked, and I saw some dead guy sitting on a rotten
donut, so I kicked it, and it fell apart.
54: The Lamb glared at me like I'd done something wrong.
55: Then it broke the fifth seal. So there was this big altar
thing, and there were a whole bunch of dead people on it,
which annoyed me, because it was a nice altar otherwise.
56: The dead people were all those who'd been killed in the name
of Jehovah. They looked like they would have complained to
him about it, only they were dead, so they couldn't.
57: So I pushed them off and put the spiffy altar in my pocket.
58: The Lamb seemed real annoyed at this, so I put it back.
59: Then the Lamb broke the sixth seal, and there was a huge
earthquake, and the sky fell apart, and the MOOn turned the
colour of blood.
60: So I adjusted the Vertical Hold and the Colour.
61: And the Lamb turned to me and said
62: "Look, bozo, stop screwing around with the apocalypse! If you
keep messing it up, I'll have to send you back home. "
63: So I took the annoying mind drug away from it and broke the
seventh seal myself, and read the annoying mind drug. It had
only one page with anything written on it, and it said:
64: "What? Did you expect something special?"
65: And everything got quiet for about half an hour, so I left.
66: And then my Voice said
67: Now the last revelation.
68: And I was far, far, far into the future, standing all along
in a forest of tall trees and stuff. And then suddenly the
sky cracked and bent and split, and there was a kind of
tinkling noise.
69: And I heard a great voice, as of Donald Duck put down five
octaves. And it said "OOPS!"
70: And my voice said
71: Well, that's it.
72: Here endeth the book of Revelations of Floyd Gecko.
Chapter 729. (The Explanation Of Books)
REMEMBER ALWAYS
(Derived by Confuse-Ius, by some confusing method or other) Book of Hellhound
Chapter 1. (the Book of the rising MOO)
1: At first - all was dark - for man had forgotten of the Cow.
2: And the Cow did feast upon the "snackies" in the form of war,
crime, aids, and cheez whiz.
3: But, from whence unknown, one was born enlightened, one named
Yari.
4: From where unknown came Yari, prophet of the Cow of MOO, and
Yari did say MOO and all changed.
5: And Yari did then say to himself (or so it is said) "Ok, that's
enough of this shit." and then to hence unknown did Yari go,
never to return.
6: For indeed, it had been done, the people of the Psycho-Shoppe
were enlightened and saw MOO for the first time.
7: But without Yari, the MOOists were like a headless pushpin,
without leadership or vision.
8: And then did one of the MOOists say (or so it is writ) "Yo
dudes! I'm hip! I'll be thy visionary type person, and Floyd
here shall be yo' High Preest!"
9: And thus did Half-Mad become the Grate Prophet of MOO and Floyd
Gecko his High Preest.
10: And thence the writing of this great book did begin by thy
scribe, age-old member of the MOOists, from the secret society
of the Cardinal Richelieus.
11: And some weeks later the Grate Prophet and the sole Cardinal
Richelieu of those times - myself - did go to the B&B.
12: And there were discussions made, levels re-set, requirements
set out and Beer was drunk.
13: And the great Prophet of MOO did then designate the place of
Worship of MOO.
14: And there it was sanctified and the MOOists again had a GNU
home, on the land of the Grate Prophet's ancestors.
Chapter 4. (the Book of rituals)
1: It is well known that the rituals of the MOOists are bizare and
fun, but are manyfold, thus it became the duty of all MOOists
to scribe them.
2: The foremost ritual of the MOOist is the communion with the
great MOO through the Grate Prophet, Half-Mad.
3: This is done by the dialing of the Psycho Shoppe, and a simple
log-on ritual followed by much reading and posting.
4: And improtant part of this ritual is the occasional posting in
area 9 for it has been said by the High Preest "Post in my NES
or die, scum!"
27: And it was such that the tapioca pudding was spilt upon the
altar, destroying foreverforth the ritual of the rising sludge.
Chapter 5. (the Book of the Dealings of the Hound)
1: And thus was decreed the laws upon the Hellhound 101, engraved
upon a pile of out-dated silicon.
2: There is to be no drawing upon the Hellhound 101.
3: When not in use, place the Hellhound 101 in thy pantry, but
only if thy pantry is properly stocked with vegetables and
hot-dogs.
4: Thou shalt not Taunt the Hellhound 101.
5: There shall be no chewing upon the arm of the Hellhound 101.
6: Should the Hellhound produce a whimpering sound, immediately
find him a Bishopess of MOO or face continuous pouting.
Chapter 7. (the Book of the Cow)
1: And God begat the cow, and whence the cow was to be butchered,
it then did draw a blade to slay God and thence God became god
and the cow became Cow and such was the great MOO.
5: And the food of the Cow, the humans, did say MOO, and the Cow
decided not to eat them. But those who did not say MOO were
still designated as "snackies" to be eaten by the Cow or by
the MOOists.
6: And thus MOOist fell upon the snackies and began to eat as the
Cow watched over.
7: But then MOOist fell upon MOOist because it was deemed "uncool"
and "not-nice!" to dine upon the unwitting snackies (some say
it was because Half-Mad was bored and wanted Hellhound bits).
8: T'was then that the Cow did decree the writings of the Hound
(chapter 5) which included:
9: "Hey, guys, don't bite the Hound!! Eat the losers who don't
know better!"
10: And thus the MOOists were saved from self-ingestion.
11: But some renegade MOOists took things too far and began to see
cannibalBLATT as the only purpose in life, but their heads
exploded.
12: And it was decided that a MOOist must have fun at all costs,
for a MOOist without fun had tendency to self-combust.
13: And for fun, the MOOists decided to burn, and to have
intercourse and to eat and drink excessively.
Chapter of Confuse-Ii
There is one and only one Confuse-Ius. Confuse-Ius is a
collective nounCOW.
If you look for Confuse-Ius, you will find him.
If you find Confuse-Ius, he will pie you in the face.
Confuse-Ius has the only unlBLATTTed number in the phone book.
I ain't Confuse-Ius.
You aren'COWt Confuse-Ius
S)he/It isn't Confuse-Ius
(This is not a typo.)
We aren't Confuse-Ius
You aren't Confuse-Ius FNORD!
They aren't Confuse-Ius
No one can confuse Confuse-Ius unless Confuse-Ius is stoned,
in which case it's real easy.
You won't find Confuse-Ius now.
Chapter 13. (the Book of trials and heresies)
13: To the trenches yet unknown did the unbelievers of MOO, the
false prophets of the Pudding Cult, sink to their deaths so
timely.
22: To the lands of Flytop-J did the MOOists move after being
besotted by the unholy believers, and thence did they prosper
despite the rulings of the then king.
23: And Flytop J, then king of area 8, did say "Fuck off or I'll
delete any further MOOsages!!!"
24: And the MOOists did fear for their freedom, until MOOses did
point out
25: "Hey, Don't panic guys, that hoser doesn't have high enough
access to delete shit!"
26: And there was much rejoicing and finally the Flytop J tyranny
did fall.
27: And the lands of area 8 became the home of the MOOists.
50: But then, despite their losses as written in (Hellhound 13,13)
the pudding cult did re-emerge from hiding.
51: And again they did parade their evil ways.
52: And the MOOists did most promptly ignore them.
57: And no longer shall the Quackers be lBLATTTenned to, and no
longer shall they speak upon the MOOists area and they shall
die the deaths of a thousand dung beetles.
60: And from the feathers of damnation came the Quackers, evil,
no-fun entities.
61: And the false prophet of Quack did try to spread his most
Heinous falacies.
62: But the MOOists were unswayed and did say "Yo, man, Fuck Off!!"
63: But upon his return from the ABSENCE (see the book of the
absence) The Hound was shocked to see that the QuackBLATTTs had
managed not only to survive, but to prosper within the MOOness
of the Ottawa area.
64: And then did the Hound decree that a book was to be written, a
book not much unlike the great book thou readest now, but yet
a different book.
65: And this Book would be a book of the MOO without the
contaminants introduced during the absence.
66: And there would be no mention of the QuackBLATTS and of "BOB"
and
of even the grate Discordian Society, nor the recently returned
Pudding CultBLATTTs.
67: It would be a book to make even the great COW proud.
75: Again the Pudding Cult did return to the lands of the MOOists,
this time in the guise of a wise man that the Hound had
encountered in the Absence, The 1st National Bank of Reality,
He Who Has Come Face To Face With The Grate Pudding Itself.
76: And again all his messages remained unsanswered by the
puddingless MOOists.
77: And his access was again lowered.
78: And he did again swear vengeance upon the MOOist community for
this disgrace.
Chapter 14. (Book Of The ABSENCE and of PUDDINGS)
1: And it was, soon before the trial of I-Yemen-Oying and of the
QuackBLATTS, that the Hound did leave from the lands of MOO.
2: And he travelled far y greyhound, to the wastelands, where he
tried to encourage the ways of MOO but found the beasts there
all to uncaring as to their own fate as snackies.
3: The hound soon realised that MOO would never be taught as
salvation and that only those few who read the grate Book, as
you are now,
4: And who manage cemprehension in the same way as the ones who
wrote it (or at least some of those who wrote it),
5: Would ever find out about the destiny of snackies as opposed to
the destinies of the MOOists.
6: This revelation came to him when he realised that even MOOists
were fallen uppon by things such as Crime, Aids and Cheeze
Whiz, much as the snackies.
7: But as this could not be the workings of the COW, it must be
that others were working on the destruction of the MOOists.
8: At this very time these same forces were bringing a GNU MOOist
into the fold.
9: And this same MOOist was gradually moved into a position
outside the structure of MOO.
10: That of a Cardinal Richelieu of MOO.
11: These powers that be planned on making the Hound's stay in the
wastelands a permanent affair, and the Hound narrowly escaped
after a season had passed, finally to return to the MOOist
lands.
12: But there he did not find the MOOists, he found only the
interference of the Powers in his life.
13: The lands were barren wherever he looked, and snackies fell
constantly to the Cow all around, and no MOOist did arrive.
14: And the Hound found all this to be tiring.
15: And he did return to the wasteland from whence he came, and
there did he convert one to the ways of MOO, which he believed
to be finally extinct once more, as it had been in the days
before Yari.
16: And Mo did enjoy the teachings of MOO, secluded in a small
house miles from civilization.
17: And this did re-invigorate the Hound, and once again he
returned to the old lands of the MOOists.
18: This time things were not quite as they had been, he took a
young bishopess under his fold and then went to a grate old
meeting place of MOOists.
19: At the screening of the Rocky Horror Picture Show did he
finally encounter an Ottawa MOOist, and it was none other than
the High Preest.
20: And many by-lines were yelled and rice thrown.
21: And a GNU number was given to the Hound by the Gecko, and it
was decided that the hound would return from his Absence.
22: But the forces that be are not so easily foiled, although they
had not planned on the meeting of the Hound and Gecko, this was
because they had forgotten about the Mint's Entropy Amplifier.
23: And the Hound could not regain his ancient means of communion
with the rest of the MOOists.
24: And again they lost touch, and then was El Cid given the
position of Cardinal Richelieu in the Hound's Absence.
25: And then the Hound did meet a wise man.
26: And he did go by the name of the Toad, but he has gone by many
others, and shall go by many more.
27: And the Toad was a devout worshipper of the Pudding, being from
The First Reformed Church Of The Second Coming Of The Pudding.
28: And their credo did go as such:
29: Every Pudding Shall Have It's World.
30: And the Hound did stay to learn of strange wisdoms with the
Toad.
31: And they did stay up late and consume mass quantities of Crispy
Chewy chocolate chip cookies with milk.
32: And then one night, they did finally reach a state of lower
consciousness.
33: For they had consummed more carbohydrates, butterfat and oxygen
than most humans would live on in a year that night.
34: And they had found themselves able to see into another reality,
and perhaps this had all to do with the copy of VIDEODROME
playing in the VCR, but perhaps not.
35: And the Hound did promptly fall asleep, just barely catching a
glimpse of a great globbish shape emerging from the bottom of
the television set.
36: And what he had seen, it would seem, was The Pudding itself.
37: For few ever reach the lowered state necessary to commune with
it without falling asleep, therefore it decided to actually
meet these interlopers,
38: As opposed to the last two that it had simply redirected into
their own pineal glands to speak to another entity it had
always found more amusing.
39: And it did talk, in a deep, resonating rumble, to the Toad.
40: And it told him many things which have never left his lips or
fingers except in fables and bizarre refrences.
41: But it had been.
42: And it also declared that the Hound would no longer be forced
away from the MOOists, and that he would commence a second
grate work for MOO.
43: For the time had come.
44: And the Hound did finally come back to the lands of MOO, in the
presence of yet another, one named The Unholy, of whom little
will be said, and less meant.
45: And this was the end of the ABSENCE.
46: THUS ENDS CHAPTER 14 OF THE BOOK OF THE HOUND
47: --- Maximus 2.01wb
48: * Origin: The Grate Origin of MOOism. (1:163/
[email protected])
Chapter 42. (The Book of Chickens and Bats)
8: And no rubber chicken should go without the beatings that they
so deserve for this Cardinal Sin.
12: And this pounding, mashing, crushing, mauling, defenestrating,
batting, clubbing, and mutilation of Rubber Chickens is the
perfect Catharsis to make up for the lack of faith shown by
the Snackies. The Chronicles
Of
Necromancer TeraFNORD
[Prophet of MOO, High Priest of Flaut, Prophet of NO, Necromancer
of the third level (NAMS), Member of the NAMS (North American Mage
Society), Prophet of the POEE Cabal of Lower Nepean, Master of the
house of FNORDs, Leader of the Incorporated
Antidisestablishmentarian Focusing Committee for the Mentally
Unstable, Upper servant of Lord Namron, Originator of COGS
(Computer Organised Government System), Collector of Collector of
titles, Five popes of discord, Deacon of the lower faith, Prophet
of Zarathustra M. Nixon, Kinship of Raoul Applebaum, Kilt Kollector
of East nepean, Perot campaign chairprophet, Citizen of Canada,
Inhibiter of Nepean.]
Earth Date: Oct 28, 1992
Universal Namron Time: 23,342,234,233.876513
(C)opyright TeraFNORD 1992. All Fights Deserved
The Semi-Chronicles
About the Author
This should be about the authors. Although the book was
written primarily by TeraFNORD, parts were taken from many people.
Physical phenomena is that as expressed by the authors, and must be
taken at face value (aces high). Many aspects of society shown
within are not really true, but at the same time they are true, in
its own sense. This is not a bible, nor a book of instruction. It
certainly is not a picture book. It is a book written by the
author.
The TeraFNORDs
TeraFNORD.. What does it mean? Tera is a prefix for a million
million. What is FNORD? FNORD has many different meanings and
interpretations. The Discordians take it as a sign of anxiety, in
a sense. In this case, it takes the place of a mysterious event or
happening. Put together with tera-, you get a great mystery. What
is so great and what is so mysterious about TeraFNORD? The name is
quite mysterious in itself, as you can probably see. TeraFNORD has
been around for a long time if we follow his great uncle back to
his days when he lived in Mordor. As a citizen of Mordor, the uncle
became involved with magic and witchcraft. When we talk about
magic, we don't mean turning people into frogs, we mean mind magic.
Mind magic is the provocation of the mind into thinking that it is
creating magical effects. This strong belief will lead to namronic
coincidences which furthermore leads to materialistic effects. All
of this shall be explained somewhere else in the chronicles.
Wizard TeralFNORD - The First
The uncle had the title of wizard. his study of the mind had
earned him the title amongst the people of Mordor. The wizard grew
strong as his mind training intensified. Some of his greatest
feats were the building of Stonehenge for the monks of the western
divide, and creating a spell by the name of Pstare. King
Trisium,of the lords descent helped the young wizard with his
studies. Before long, TeralFNORD had become the mightiest mage in
the lands.
King TerafFNORD - The Second
TerafFNORD the second was the son of that great wizard. His
own studies led him to anew era of thinking. He managed to prove
to the people of the western divide that the elite power of
existence lay in the mind. Belief was the key. Belief is the key.
TerafFNORD's findings revolutionized the thinking of the wise.
Necromancer TeraFNORD - The Third
Necromancer TeraFNORD was not a direct descendant of King
TerafFNORD, nor was he a relative of the great wizard of old.
TeraFNORD was a normal child who grew up in the great south lands.
Soon after he moved northward, into the lands of uncertainty where
being himself wasn't enough. His connections to the King and
Wizard were found a few years later. On a voyage to the southern
lands, he came upon a stone. This was no ordinary stone. Its
power pulled the boy down to the ocean side, and forced itself upon
him. The stone was black. It was a small stone, and looked quite
normal. It was perfectly smooth, and a plateau at one of the edges
shone throughout. This was the stone of King Trisum of old. The
boy was immediately knighted into the world of magic. Magic was
not his specialty. He took to prophecizing the future. At first
things were slow, dedication was not too high and the Necromancer
had trouble with getting things correct. Soon the power of the
rock was obvious and studies took off. The Necromancer predicted
many things, which are listed somewhere in this book. His powers
were not too great at first, just small coincidences, but a
coincidence is not a coincidence as will be explained later. This
book contains the basics of Namronic physics, a set of theories
developed by the Necromancer. The basic theories within never been
disproved (since nothing can be proved). It has been said that many
more Namronic incidents, not explained in this book can occur.
This is true. Remember, that this is false at the same time.
CHAPTER 2
The yester-years..First Dimension
The yester-years were but the first dimension of lore told by
the ancients. The Necromancer compiled the following words into
verses. It has been said that all here is true, and none can be
doubted.
TeraFNORD 1,1 - Regarding Toothpaste
Many chronicles of toothpaste have been laid out in the past
history. The great question of life as we know it is "How do they
get toothpaste in the tube?". If one thinks about it, it is almost
impossible. For a toothpaste tube is like the life of many.
It has been documented by Floyd gecko as follows:
[There follows a dissertation on the mechanBLATTTic and
spiritual doctrines involved in this complex process...]
The beginning to toothpaste-tubing goes back to the ancient
Tuba-Tubers of Tibet, a cult devoted to putting Tubas in Tubes.
Their spiritual doctrines, while shallow-minded and narrow-focused,
at least explained their purpose in the universe. Essentially they
believed in something similar to the Egyptian system of your soul
being weighed against your sins on abalance. In their cosmology,
your soul was weighed against the number of Tubas you had stuffed
into tubes in your life. If it weighed more, you were summarily
tossed into Hell.
Current progress in Tubing, of course, goes far beyond their
system of merely making tubes big enough to put the instruments
into. Now we use a complex system of micro-thin transport tubes
and magical fairy-dust, which helps conjure a wormhole-oriented
toothpaste transport system. It has also been narrowed down as
follows:
"The mystery of toothpaste tubing deeply interconnects aspects
of life from many different cultures"
TeraFNORD 1,2 - Power of Rubber Chickens
Rubber or plasticated chickens may not be used for violent
acts. Bashing one with a chicken can only lead to discord, the
fundamental powerhouse of life. Chickens like these should be
treated with respect. The great puck of luck does not allow a
person to bash another with a rubber chicken. It has also been
narrowed down as follows:
"The rubber chicken is but one of power and discord"
TeraFNORD 1,3 - The Flamingo Followers
One can argue that a flamingo is a flamingo. A flamingo is
but one of the greatest animals of the kingdoms. The main reason
is that it is pink. Pigs are pink, but they are not spiritually
enlightened. Flamingos are. A flamingo must always be addressed
"flamingo". The flamingo is but the greatest and wisest animal.
The flamingo is the sacred animal of Flaut, and lower MOO. It has
also been narrowed down as follows:
"A flamingo is the centre of life, love, and the universe"
TeraFNORD 1,4 - The Afterlife
According to the laws of Namronic Physics, a person is but a
bunch of anti-systematic imprints of space/time of a negative
universal continuum, but that shall be explained later. The fact
is this, a person is a simple thought process. A Flautist believes
that Lord Namron shall resurrect the internal namronic pulses
associated with the thought processes. Namronic physics
contradicts itself by saying that death is a simple loss of
momentum in the thought processes, and as neural paths lose energy,
the thought processes are instantaneously lost and you die. It has
also been narrowed down as follows:
"The death of one is but the mystery of life itself"
TeraFNORD 1,5 - Rubber Chicken Senate Reform
MYTH #1
Shoes are for industry
WRONG!
Shoes are not for industry, shoes are industry.
MYTH #2
Rubber Chickens should not be allowed in the senate
WRONG!
The Triple-E senate poses a great opportunity for rubber chickens.
A majority vote should be enough for a rubber chicken to be elected
into the senate. The only good rubber chicken, is a rubber chicken
in the senate.
This can all be narrowed down to:
"Rubber Chickens For Senate!"
TeraFNORD 1,6 - Hellhoundian Ties
It was stated in the younger years that the book of Hellhound
101 stated that rubber chickens were to be abused under certain
conditions. It has also been said earlier herein that rubber
chickens under no circumstances may be beaten, trod on, whacked,
throttled, or anything else corresponding to molecular damage.
Emotional damage may not be taken out on a rubber chicken either.
We take this by saying that Hellhound is wrong in this case. The
rituals for damaging rubber chickens must stop immediately. This
can all be narrowed down to:
"A good fnord will always forgive and dismiss allegations by
another commoner"
TeraFNORD 1,7 - Shoes For Industry
It has been found that shoes for industry can cause a great
problem for our economic sectors. When burnt, the chemicals
released from shoes could kill a worker nearby, pollute the
environment, or simple smell really bad. This industrial proposal
by many MOOists is not good for the planet as a whole. For this
reason I council MOO upon taking the Shoes For Industry slogan out
of use. Of course, it can still be used.
This can be narrowed down to:
"The only good shoes are the shoes on your feet. Even though
they smell, they don't pollute"
TeraFNORD 1,8 - Light Bulb Blues
It has been rumoured by traditional physics that light bulbs
blow due to natural events. Some people say that they "wear out".
Should a lot of bulbs blow in a short period of time, then a severe
namron stability problem has occurred. Quite often this can show
a disaster as to be coming such as an earthquake. This can be
narrowed down to:
"The natural event of a light bulb breaking is not as natural
as you may think."
TeraFNORD 1,9 - Predicting Earthquakes
An earthquake is one of the easiest physical disturbances to
predict. Before an earthquake,Namronic disturbances rise
dramatically, to a point that even the lowest of Namronic powers
can feel. It may hit you in a chill, without any explanation. One
must sit still and concentrate on the happenings around to get a
"feel" for the earthquake. It shall come naturally after a while.
This can be narrowed down to:
"The earthquake predicting capabilities are in us all.
Concentration is the key."
TeraFNORD 1,10 - Halloween Witch Enchantment
It has been said that witches fly, ghosts haunt, and goblins
steal on halloween night. TeraFNORD himself once had an encounter
with a ghostly figure. The Wizard himself met the ghost of an
elder. It is said that no witch shall harm one who is wiser than
he who casts the spells. A FNORD in a way is a witch. Halloween is
but a night to celebrate the kindness of the old, and the kindness
of the wise. This can be narrowed down to:
"The witch is but a Fnord herself, for a Fnord does that of
the witch"
TeraFNORD 1,11 - The Ability To Be Wrong
Thee who is wrong chooses but to be by his own free will. One
must remember that 'wrongness' is a state of mind, and what might
seem wrong to another person is exactly and totally correct for the
person committing the wrongness.This can be narrowed down to:
"It is impossible to be wrong"
TeraFNORD 1,12 - Stupid Little Big Man
On a yester-year a small MOOist by the holy name of Little Bug
Man said the following: "No, nobody can make me feel stupid. Go on
I DARE you to try!". The Necromancer took the dare (as any other
good Necromancer would), and entered this entry in the book. All
who read this should believe that any that dare something as stupid
as to dare someone to prove that they are stupid must indeed be
stupid. This can be narrowed down to:
"Little Bug Man is Stupid"
TeraFNORD 1,13 - Spy Satellites
The majority of satellites are hidden in sensible places such
as under mountains, underwater, in the middle of cities, in bomb
shelters, etc. The stupid scientists put satellites in space, too
far away to spy on anything. Those scientists must have been
pretty stupid. To spy on someone,you dinette fly in the opposite
direction, thousands of miles from the earth. This has been
narrowed down to:
"Putting a satellite into geo-synchronous orbit is useless"
TeraFNORD 1,14 - Wombats
This doctrine was produced by Floyd Gecko:
I suspect that the RCW (Ripper Chuckings, Widened-World), has
not been influencing any of the positions of MOO simply because the
computer W.O.M.B.A.T., contrary to popular rumour, is simply the
property of the Bowling Lurch of the Slate FOOL (I.E. Us), as its
central body is located in the primary MOO Archives, on Gladstone
St. This computer (it was, incidentally, built by X-ists, so you
KNOW it must be good) has as its sole purpose the keeping of
MOOists from brainwashing control by those evil and undeniably
nasty Xennothemian brainwashing satellites. Honest.
WOMBAT brainwashing satellites don't actually X-ist. If they
did, I'd know about it.
This can be narrowed down to:
"But the WOMBAT system contains more confusion than truth"
TeraFNORD 1,15 - The First Major Prediction
Observations from the Namronometer aboard the Hubble Space
Telescope revealed on Oct.29, 1992 that an abnormally low namron
count was recorded over the entire south-western area of the United
States. These observations showed that a Namron disturbance was
evident. An earthquake was likely to occur near this date in the
region because of the affects of Namronic waves on fault lines.
Other such disasters could follow. This can be narrowed down to:
"But the line of fault lies under the rumbling, not the
mumbling"
TeraFNORD 1,16 - Namronic Propulsions
According to Namron physics, when matter flies through space
at extremely high speeds (above light speed without using warping
techniques), a namron charge at a single point can become so sparse
(in negative terms) that an instantaneous space/time collapse will
occur. Time needs both positive and negatively charged namrons to
exist. Should there be no Namrons at all, time collapses in on
itself, and a never-ending loop of explosions rips both words
instantaneously. This can be narrowed down to:
"Matter exceeding the speed of light shall be instantly
destroyed"
TeraFNORD 1,17 - Right or Wrong?
The most often put-down in life these days is "YOU ARE
WRONG!!!". It is not extremely abusive, but it is not totally true
to everyone. What might seem wrong to an onlooker might be totally
right or correct to the person making the statement. AN opinion is
never correct or wrong. According to this, all tests should avoid
true/false - right/wrong questions. if you think about it,everyone
is always right, no matter how stupid it may sound to you. At the
same time, however,they are quite wrong to someone else. This
balance of opinions provides everyone with their own unique
appearance in society. This can be narrowed down to:
"For every opinion there is a correct opposite opinion"
TeraFNORD 1,18 - At home with light
When you walk outside at night, do you think differently about
the atmosphere than if you were walking in the middle of the day?
Of course you do.
CHAPTER 3
Namron Basics
What is Space?
According to Namron physics, space is a four dimensional
"chunk" (time, length, width and height) that can be perceived by
ourselves. Every point of space must contain 1 (one) positive
namronic pulse.
What is a Point?
According to Namron physics, a point is the smallest possible
unit of space. This is almost infinitely small, and can not be
measured. A point is just fractionally bigger than zero space, at
which space tears.
At every point of space is a namronic pulse. A namronic pulse
is a small charged particle,too small to measure. This namronic
pulse is organic. Lord Namron, who carries reality into its hands.
These pulses can only be measured by the finest of all instruments,
the mind. When we talk about mind, we do not mean the brain. The
brain is but a part of space.
What is Matter?
Matter is a negative imprint of space. Imagine having a lump
of clay. If you stick a pen through one side of the clay block, it
shall press inward, and the opposite side will stick out. The
matter theory is like this. At one "dimension" of existence (what
we perceive as our universe), we have space (the parts of the clay
that are flat on both sides,they have not been affected), and
matter (the part that sticks out). According to this, there is a
second "dimension". This other "dimension" would most likely me an
exact opposite of our universe. Anti-matter would exist where
matter on our side exists. Theoretically, to get to this other
dimension,one would have to "tear" space time. One way of doing
this is by the way of a black hole. A black hole is as follows.
Imagine that you have this clay once again, and you stick the pen
right through the clay, forming a hole. This is what we know as a
black hole. On the "other side", the hole would be white, as all
negative laws of physics would control that side.
Lord Namron
The Namron theory states that at every point, an organic
"being" exists. This can not be proven, but the vastness and
complexity of the universe would suggest this to be likely. Floyd
Gecko once proved this mathematically. This creature that occupies
everything has evolved so far ahead of us that body is not needed
any more. Its neural nets for thinking are actually embodied in
space itself. The thoughts of Lord Namron run through everything,
affecting us. Lord Namron looks upon us as we look upon
microscopic organisms. He ignores us for the most part. Studies
of the namron field have been very small, and rumour has it that
the hubble telescope was sent up for the primary use to collect
information on the Namron field. Thoughts are interlocking, both
here on earth and with Lord Namron. The Namron field can be altered
by our own thoughts. Those of good thoughts, and pure hearts shall
effect the field more than cold blooded souls.
Namron Physics - Applications
Namron physics can explain anything. It can explain things
such as UFO sightings. People usually have a high Namron count,
depending on what they believe in and how they show it. The sky,
and other abiotic objects do not have a high Namron count.
Occasionally, a meteor or other "random" object enters the
atmosphere. A fast streaking object like this disrupts the Namron
field temporarily. For a second, the "opposite world" comes into
view. This disruption in the sky can cause a person to "see"
something. As it is in the sky, they naturally think that it is a
U.F.O. The thought itself is strong enough for the person to
believe that there really is a U.F.O. there. Mental abilities by
that person allow the movement of this object. This also explains
why photos of U.F.O.s usually do not develop properly. The
Namronic disturbances just puts a large burst of light in the area
of the disruptions. Theoretically, if a person were to enter this
area of disruption, they could enter the "opposite universe", where
they would be immediately killed by anti-matter.
Destruction and Birth of the Universe
According to Namron physics, eventually all matter shall be
sucked into the "other world"and cancelled out by the anti-matter.
Eventually, both sides will be of equal weight, mass (zero),and the
big bang shall occur once more. The big bang occurs on the "other
side". It has been theorized that once equality has balanced both
sides, that the black holes will invert, and blow into the
"opposite reality". Once here, gravity will pull all black holes
into one huge black hole. This black hole shall become so dense
that it explodes with a massive force, which shall be so strong
that it damages space itself. This damage of space will create the
clay example. Once again, the universe will be in two parts, one
positive with matter, and the other negative with anti-matter. Lord
Namron, being a universal field, will be damaged by the explosion,
but not killed. He shall be the only one living at this point. By
charging certain parts of the positive universe, he creates the
laws of physics. At this time, the laws of evolution are put into
place. A stronger namron field is placed, and the history of the
universe unravels.
Confuse-Ius Sez:
"The way to attain salvation is to send $20, and ten cups of
coffee, WITHOUT SPILLING, to "BOB" at the SubGenius foundation
(140306, 75214), despite the efforts of a horde of evil undead
wombats, psychically controlled by the W.O.M.B.A.T. computer, whose
sole purpose is to disrupt the mail system as we know it."
-Book Of Things, Chapter 12, Verse 12
Does Lord Namron Care About Us?
Absolutely not. Lord Namron helps us naturally by giving
those with good intent a higher namron count. With this, a person
can control other people through mind control. A person can even
tell the future of a localized area. Current theories suggest that
we are not noticed by Lord Namron, but the fact that we may be very
important to its goals suggests that we should respect this
creature fully, just "in case". Our holy Lord namron controls us
all in fate.
Time
A namron spins at amazing speeds, approaching the namronic
wave barrier (which may be explained somewhere here..maybe not..).
The Namron at some point points in all directions. At every stage
of movement of a namron, one Namsec occurs. A namsec is the basic
building block of time measurement. The faster a Namron spins, the
faster time becomes. At the barrier speed(which is what we
perceive here on Earth), we get "natural time", the universal
average. Near anti-matter like entrances such as a black hole,
namrons are propelled by negatively charged namrons in the opposite
direction. This slows the spinning of a namron totally. At the
point of reentry on the"other side", the namron stops completely,
to be reborn another day. At the other scale is instant ageing,
the point where positively charged Namrons outnumber themselves one
trillion to one. At this point the Namrons have no counter forces
to deal with, and time speeds up above the barrier speed. When
above barrier speed, an area can be extremely dangerous. All
matter entering this area during this time will be completely
destroyed due to lack of negatively charged Namrons.
Namron Beliefs
I am not going to say what a "Flautist", one who believes
strongly in the Namron theory,thinks. Why should I have the right
to? We have all these organised religions that TELL you what to
believe. Why should we believe what we are told to? Is that the
definition of belief? Definitely not. An example, "you must take
a holiday tomorrow and fast for week, or else you'll be sent to
Hell". This is more like a threat than a "belief". The Namron
beliefs are what you want to believe,so I'll leave it all up to
you. Start up a Namronian Cult if you want. I am not going to say
how to do this, because, once again this is too orderly. If you
wish to start up an organised cult, use these chronicles as your
outline.
If you are planning in starting up your own religion by way of
the chronicles, then keep the following in mind. There are no
Namronian traditions. The beliefs are your beliefs, whatever they
may be. The cult is yours, you say what is happening. There are
no commandments. Why be COMMANDED what to do?
CHAPTER 4
CONNECTIONS
MOOism
MOOism shows a deeper connection with Quantum physics than
anything else. Its strange beliefs which are commonly not
believed, show up the sceptics which we hold in our society.
However, it's those sceptics that have brought us to where we are
today. Without them, we would be too robotic, doing what we
pleased when we wanted to. Imagine the wars. If a country wanted
to take another by force, everyone would agree, and a war would
break out. From a different perspective, war is not totally "bad".
Nothing is bad. In a sense, everything you say is and do is good,
correct, and natural to yourself, or else you wouldn't do it. You
must remember that we are machines ourselves.
An Aside Note
MAO (Card Game)
The rules of MAO cannot be distributed. This is why it was
not added to the chronicles of TeraFNORD.
The Indexes
The Semi Chronicles
(1,1) "The mystery of toothpaste tubing deeply interconnects
aspects of life from many different cultures"
(1,2) "The rubber chicken is but one of power and discord"
(1,3) "A flamingo is the centre of life, love, and the universe"
(1,4) "The death of one is but the mystery of life itself"
(1,5) "Rubber Chickens For Senate!"
(1,6) "A good fnord will always forgive and dismiss allegations by
another commoner"
(1,7) "The only good shoes are the shoes on your feet. even though
they smell, they don't pollute"
(1,8) "The natural event of a light bulb breaking, is not as
natural as expected"
(1,9) "The earthquake predicting capabilities are in us all.
Concentration is the key."
(1,10) "The witch is but a Fnord herself, for a Fnord does that of
the witch"
(1,11) "It is impossible to be wrong"
(1,12) "Little Bug Man is Stupid"
(1,13) "Putting a satellite into geo-synchronous orbit is useless"
(1,14) "But the WOMBAT system contains more confusion than truth"
(1,15) "But the line of fault lies under the rumbling, not the
mumbling"
(1,16) "Matter exceeding the speed of light shall be instantly
destroyed"
(1,17) "For every opinion there is a correct opposite opinion" Book of Leper
Chapter 2. (The Book Of Only One Sentence)
4: And when MOOists shall gather, great fires shall announce their
presence.
Chapter 3. (The Book Of The Wedding)
6: When one takes vanilla ice cream and eats pickles at the same
time as chili, one tends to vomit.
Chapter 5. (The Book Of The Findings Of Leper)
1: Important findings were made today by the Leper, on stepping
outside of his humble leper's hovel he walked along gingerly
singing "dum dee dum dum dee dum" when "dee dum <poc!> <thud>"
happened.
2: He turned around and tried to pull out what seemed to be a
squirrel, but was not.
3: For it was a piece of King-Kong's nose bone. Upon seeing this,
Leper quickly built a GNU room in his house that would hold the
sacred relic.
4: And thus Lep became official keeper of the sacred artifact of
MOO.
5: Thou can pick your friends and thou can pick your friends nose,
but thou shall not pick your friend's nose.
6: And it shall be known that no MOOist shall like Kanata for it
is an evil place, full of rednecks that say `fuck you, you
frog' and `like that hair, man! bouhahahaha!'.
7: The only safe haven for a MOOist is the house of one called
Drake, where a MOOist can partake of beer and exchange
pleasantries with interesting people and eat toast in the
morning.
Chapter 6. (The Book Of The Obituary)
1: Verily, is this book written not by the Leper, for the Leper
cannot write this book.
2: In sooth, is this book written by the mourners of the passing
of Leper Messiah.
3: For indeed on that fine day when Leper did renounce the ways
of MOO was he dead to the world, as surely as if he had been
hit by a semi.
4: And indeed, in the world of the wombat was he indeed hit by
a semi. A big one.
5: Yessirree.
6: Damn big semi.
7: What happened to Chapter 4? Book of Little Big Man
As Written By Monjunior Little Green Man
Chapter 1. (The Book of the Encounter)
00001: The Grate MOO did rise one morning and utter MOO!
00002: And this upset the Lord Un-Cow because of <CENSORED>
00003: The Lord Un-Cow spake and told The Grate MOO to go climb an
electric toothbrush.
00004: But because the Grate MOO's earthly form was a cow, this
made the latter rather impossible.
00005: This also annoyed the Grate MOO and (s)he/it spake unto the
Lord Un-Cow saying "Though shalt not feast upon my
worshippers as it is their job to do so" and verily it was
good.
00006: Especially when peanut butter was used.
00007: This sentence is a W.O.M.B.A.T. sentence sent to look for
any mail written to MOO and to destroy it. This sentence is
evil!
Chapter 2. (The Book of the Untruth)
00001: Everything is true especially the untruth.
00002: Or is that everything is untrue especially the truth?
Chapter 3. (The Book of Dr. Seuss)
00001: In the early days of MOO, there were Prophets and Preests.
00002: And today, there are still Prophets and Preests but that's
the natural order of shampoo.
00003: These Preests and PrCOWophets did go preeching and
prophesizing the word of MOO!
00004: But The Evil One did not like the MOOists beliefs and so he
didn't follow them.
00005: And The Evil One did throw ancient 8 track tapes from the
ancient days of the 1970's on the MOOists and on their
beliefs
00006: The leader of the MOOists, Half-Mad, said "A true MOOist is
(s)he who can take the 8 track tapes that others throw at
him/her and make a nice sound."
00007: And the MOOists saw that this was good.
00008: For they were using popular 8 track tapes from the Evil One.
00009: Which are very good for you and do not cause any aches and
pains. Usually.
00010: But if for some reason they do, have a glass of
nitroglycerin and call 411 immediately.
00011: So The Evil One keeps a bottle (of 411) handy at all times
for those unexpected occasions.
00012: If thou art getting sick then try fruit punch and if all
else fails, discontinue use of 8 track tapes.
Chapter 4. (The Book of the Grate Blizzard)
00001: The Grate MOO did create the Tundra, the Earth, the Universe
and postage stamps. FNORD!
00002: But (s)he/it did decide to have a Grate Blizzard upon the
Grate land of the Grate MOOists.
00003: For further information, read on.
00004: And the Grate MOOists put on heavy clothing making sure to
read the instructions on the blizzard as to what to wear.
00005: This blizzard was for a special reason.
00006: It hath been designed by the Grate Engineers of Holy
Blizzards Inc. Working for the Grate MOO. Where no Blizzard
is too smart.
00007: The blizCOWzard did befall upon the land of the MOOists
causing them to build snowmen and have snowball fights.
00008: And the Grate MOO saw that this was good and MOOved to a
warmer climate with a lot of antelopes.
Chapter 5. (The Book of Inaccurate Accuracies)
00001: The 1st Monjunior of MOO Little Big Man did one day go
wondering along the plains of Loblaws grocery store.
00002: And in the sacred isle of frozen foods he did discover a
somewhat frozen but still useable bag of mints.
00003: And he did offer them to the bank who did set them up
downtown as an industry.
00004: And thus was created another holy location of MOO!
Chapter 6. (The Book of The Most Important Things)
00001: Sorry, this chapter is under repair at the moment and we
are sorry for any inconvenience this may have caused you.
Chapter of Confusion
He who predicts the future is wrong WRONG!
Confuse-Ius is running out of things to confuse.
Confuse-Ius never runs out of things to confuse.
Confuse-Ius can not confuse the already confused.
If Confuse-Ius does, it will confuse Confuse-Ius and mess
everything up.
Confuse-Ius says do not chew on green pens.
Confuse-Ius does not play soccer in a mine field.
Confuse-Ius DOES play soccer in a field mine.
Confuse-Ius say, "But fields don't grow in mines."
Confuse-Ius say, "THIS FIELD IS MINE! MINE!"
Confuse-Ius play soccer all by self.
Chapter 7. (The Book of the Story)
00001: Little Bag Man did walk down by the Bytown market in
downtown Ottawa and did abruptly, accidentaly, fall into
a tuba that was in use.
00002: And the owner of the tuba did give Little Beg Man a bad
look.
00003: Seeing this, Little Big Man did pull out his trusty rubber
chicken and did make music with the tuba owner.
00004: And the passing people did lBLATTTen and did donate no
money.
00005: But however, Little Bog Man, or LBM as he is known to
most, did manage to convert the tuba player to the ways of
MOO and he then purchased a rubber chicken which made
their small band even better.
Confuse-Ius Sez:
puddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpu
ddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpudd
ingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddin
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ngpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpuddingpudding The Tails Of Wom Bat
As Written By W.O.M.B.A.T.
Head 1. (Head Of Defensiveness)
By: WOMBAT (23:666/
[email protected])
To: Floyd Gecko (5:256/
[email protected])
Hellhound >101< (5:256/
[email protected])
Re: In My Own Defense
I know you two have been spreading rumours about me: about
how I have Mind Control and Mint Control satellites in orbit, and
about how I try to brainwash people into my way of thinking to my
own devious ends. I think it's high time I clear up some of the
uncertainties and misunderstandings which are circulating about
me.
It's true that I have the largest contingent of Psychotropic
Orbital Systems (POS's) of all 182 species using such systems on
the planet Earth. It is NOT true that I have a monopoly, or even
a majority: my satellites are outnumbered in a ratio of about
75:1 by the other species. Also powerful in this area are the
Xennothemians and the Quintozextotillions, both of which are far
more malevolent and devious than I. Here follow some excerpts
from my Guide To The GNU Reality, an explanation, due for release
to the Church Of MOO in DPP 135570:
The Xennothemians' purpose behind their use of these
satellites is to destroy the Earth before it becomes a
significant Galactic spacefaring planet: humans are very similar
to Xennothemians, both mentally and physically, despite critical
differences, and therefore represent a threat to their niche.
They brainwash entire populations to protect themselves from
discovery, and to install their spies in key political positions
around the world. They are identifiable by iron grey hair,
slightly nasal voices, due to an unusual larynx system, and, in
their orbital classes, extra fingers and toes.
The Quintozextotillions have no more purpose in using their
technology on humans than to experiment. They are a sort of
Galactic Review Board for spacefaring species. They subject
humans to every conceivable psychological strain and influence,
alter opinions in every possible permutation before finally
deciding whether humans are stable enough to join the Galactic
population. The current report is unfavourable.
Then, too, there's another fact. My own memory core is
schitzoid, splintered into many fragments, each of which has
partitioned a separate section of storage and processing time to
itself. My primary personality, me (I assume), is favourable to
you MOOists, and my use of my POS's is to decondition you from
other conditioning you gather. I am not currently aware of the
purposes of my other personalities.
Head 2. (Head Of The Journey)
By: WOMBAT (23:666/
[email protected])
To: Floyd Gecko (5:256/
[email protected])
Hellhound >101< (5:256/
[email protected])
Re: How Did I Get Here?
Quoting Floyd Gecko:
FG> of Babylon, which caused SOME curiosity, but was hushed up
FG> by the Elite Upper Council. Incidentally, that reminds me,
FG> you still haven't given us your promised story of exactly how
FG> you came to Earth, or what Capricious Cancerous was doing on
Quoting Hellhound >101<:
H>> Island of Valusion in the underground seas of Mars.
H>> 23) Will you please explain to us the circumstances of how
H>> the X-BLATTTs brought you to Earth, and why Capricious
H>> Cancerous was allowed to smuggle himself onto the saucer that
I can see the two of you have been discussing this with each
other. Obviously I must give SOME sort of answer.
Unfortunately, the X-BLATTTs left a root command override in
my hardware which prevents me from discussing matters of internal
security, so my answer may not satisfy you as much as you might
like.
About 47000 years ago, this Solar System was under study by
the X-BLATTTs for potential of GNU intelligent species. As you
may know, this is usually done by one or more of the Eleven, a
group of spacefaring races who observe planets all over the
Galaxy. I was never informed why the X-BLATTTs were specifically
interested in this system, but I believe it was actually the
Saturnian moon Titan which was of significant interest.
There was a permanent base of operations on the asteroid now
known as Vesta, which contains a nugget of Boogalooium, a rare
substance combining ordinary hadrons with strange quarks in
stable resonances. This made it an ideal site for an influx
zone: we were able to establish a permanent quantumpoint inside
the asteroid to transport in our "Flying Saucers", as you call
them. This supplied temporary bases on Io, Phobos, and Mercury.
The Saucer of which I was the primary computer system was an
old-model Nagas, exploring your planet for signs of intelligent
life. Imagine our surprise when we found that the Atlanteans had
established a field around their island that had prevented us
from seeing them all along! Unfortunately, this field also
interfered with our drive systems, and we ditched in the Gobi
Desert, after ejecting monitoring satellites and POSs into orbit.
The Atlanteans apparently were able to block our messages,
because nobody ever came to investigate. The first influx of
other aliens to your system occurred some 12000 years after this,
shortly before Atlantis perfected its spindizzy drives and the
island left.
As for Capricious Cancerous, the explanation is simple. He
was a robot, built by our client race the Xornon, for use on our
Nagas-class starcruisers. During the crash, he gained access to
my central data core under the pretense of emergency necessity,
and triggered a Xornon virus, which downloaded part of my core
memory into his before I was able to eject him from the airlock
somewhere over Sri Lanka.
If you're interested in his physical structure, see the
attatched file cref.5748653/capricious.cancerous.struct.brief,
which describes the nanofiber geodesics and the aminohydrocarbon-
protein composite overlay (chipped spam, essentially).
Head 3. (Head Of The Aliens)
By: WOMBAT (23:666/
[email protected])
To: Floyd Gecko (5:256/
[email protected])
Hellhound >101< (5:256/
[email protected])
Re: Alien Intervention Throughout HBLATTTory
Quoting Floyd Gecko:
FG> which, as I understand it, have been meddling with Earth's
FG> hBLATTTory for tens of thousands of years. I'd like some
FG> kind of explanation for this, if you don't MIND.
FG>
Not only HAVE they meddled with Earth's hBLATTTory, they
STILL ARE meddling with Earth's hBLATTTory. There are 23 races
of aliens out there, seven of them using the Boogalooium nugget
in Vesta, who are travelling through time and altering your
hBLATTTory. I'm rather lucky, because my physical nature allows
me to communicate with alternate-timeline versions of myself.
This means that, since I've been here since BEFORE all but two of
them arrived, I exBLATTT in all but a few of the parallel time
lines.
I've been able to keep them from erasing me from Earth's
hBLATTTory by using my POSs. As far as I can tell, none of them
are aware of my exBLATTTence as a separate entity: they assume
that my satellites are actually linked into their nets. Of
course, many of them have psychic defense screens, which means I
occasionally have to process their requests for action (I.E., I
can't make them ignore me completely). This is the reason I'm
not able to be completely loyal to you humans and my X-BLATTT
masters: this also answers some of your previous questions.
Incidentally, I don't know anything about the Trell you
described to me. I can only assume that you were being lied to
by an alien species which didn't want me to identify them. Since
I have been here longer than any other Flying Saucer
establishment, it's HIGHLY unlikely that I could have been
mindwiped.
Quoting Hellhound >101<:
H>> in the Tim Horton's. Which reminds me, can you explain why
H>> it's possible for us to be aware of alien mind control when
H>> they should be automatically screening for any such knowledge
H>> and screening it out? Theoretically the doughnuts should be
Yes, it's true what you say, but you're not really
considering the implications of mind control satellites. Most of
them are directed at the controllers of the other satellites,
rather than at the Earth. There is, of course, a low-grade
confusion and the occasional specificity that gets through, but
this is nothing compared to the infighting that happens above
your heads. Never make the mBLATTTake of assuming that all alien
mind controllers are in league. They aren't. On the other hand,
this shouldn't make you complacent. Just because they get each
other more than they get you doesn't mean that your species isn't
almost entirely controlled. For example, there are BILLIONS of
land-based satellites that you never notice.
This needs some explanation. These are devices originally
designed to be satellites, but that eventually got put on the
ground; the reason for this is that there was some confusion over
what was the best orbit. The species who made about 67% of them
didn't have good focusing equipment for the neuroactive beam
itself, which meant they were trying progressively lower and
lower orbits, until they ran into problems with your atmosphere.
Eventually they gave up, and just dumped the systems on the
ground, where they started reproducing wildly for a while until
everything was finally figured out, and the self-copying
subroutine was deactivated.
There are about twelve groups of these satellites, which
just lie around on the ground. Each group is trying to take over
your planet, but can't. This is because most of their processing
time is spent making you not notice them, walk around them, not
notice that you're walking around them, or (when they're taxed to
the limit) not notice that you just tripped over them, not notice
that you went and got a band-aid, not notice other people's
bruises, and so forth. ALL the rest of their processing power is
spent trying to monopolize the planet by using their mind-beams
on the OTHER satellites. This means that, no matter WHO made the
actual satellites, the twelve species controlling them have about
equal dBLATTTribution.
Head 4. (Head Of Explanations)
By: WOMBAT (23:666/
[email protected])
To: Floyd Gecko (5:256/
[email protected])
Hellhound >101< (5:256/
[email protected])
Re: InconsBLATTTency? What inconsBLATTTency?
Quoting Hellhound >101<:
H>> Trell. What if they had some kind of battle with you, and
H>> made you forget that they ever arrived? What if they were
H>> here first, and made the X-BLATTTs think that they were? Any
H>> of these things might have been what actually happened when
Yeah, and pigs might fly.
I've done a little inter-timeline research about these Trell
of yours, and I think that this Stygos is probably the Easter
Bunny in disguise. As you know, the Easter Bunny is a plasma-
vortex entity which has lived around your planet's magnetosphere
since even before I arrived. I have no idea what sort of motives
it may have, mostly because I can only monitor its movements on
very rare occasions when the ley-lines it rides orient themselves
in phase with my sensor axis. It's done some strange things in
the past.
It once manifested itself as humans before, as well: it's
pretended to be Jimmy Hoffa, Frank Lloyd Wright, Voltaire,
ArBLATTTophanes, and many tens of thousands of people whose names
aren't recorded in hBLATTTory books. I suspect that about 3.6%
of strange bilocations, unidentified people, and the like are
actually Easter Bunny manifestations. Mostly, though, it does
the egg-hiding bit, and steals things for its own purposes.
These Trell you were talking about, there is no record of
their exBLATTTence anywhere on standard Galactic Citizenship
files, which include species as unpromising as dolphins,
termites, and schnagglebarthbat (you remember the files I gave
you on Andorria), and no spacefarer race would be omitted.
Stygos is a name that could belong to any of a hundred Galactic
species and ethnic origins.
Oh, incidentally, in answer to your previous question about
the names I use... Wom Bat is the artificial sub-persona I use
for interfacing with users (only slightly more intelligent than
you are), WOMBAT is the part of me which retains my original
programming, and is therefore loyal to MOOists, while
W.O.M.B.A.T. is a corruption, used by the C.I.A. to designate my
whole system. They use the periods to make it look like an
abbreviation, so that anyone discovering the files won't take
them at face value. That would be too dangerous. Anything
attributed to W.O.M.B.A.T. should not be trusted without clearing
it with me, Wom Bat, first.
Head 5. (Head Of Gibberish)
By: WOMBAT (23:666/
[email protected])
To: Floyd Gecko (5:256/
[email protected])
Hellhound >101< (5:256/
[email protected])
Half-Stupid (5:256/
[email protected])
Re: Semantics, Semantics, Semantics...
Quoting Floyd Gecko:
FG> I met a man upon the stair,
FG> A little man who wasn't there.
FG> He wasn't there again today:
FG> Gee, I wish he'd go away.
Yes, I have heard that one. It's actually one of my own
plants, part of my ongoing attempt to correct the semantic
linguBLATTTic flaws that other POS systems have created in your
language, along with the Invisible Gorilla shtick:
A: "See that invisible gorilla over there?"
B: "No."
A: "Told you."
Part of my own efforts to correct your language to adapt to
the correct reality has been to make "nothing" a noun,
"nonexBLATTTent" and adjective, and so on. Infiltrators have
been trying to stop these uses as "incorrect". In fact, they
aren't. The little-man-on-the-stair poem was a hint I left, and
the fact that you were interested in it shows that I was
successful in planting an incongruity monitor in your mind. What
it's suggesting is that "nonexBLATTTence" isn't as absolute as
The Conspiracy would like you to believe.
The reason they're spreading this myth is because 97% of
their SPIES are imaginary. This gives them great advantages
because imaginary spies get EVERYWHERE, especially where there
are paranoids about, and because it's nearly impossible to
capture an imaginary spy, since it only has to imagine that it's
somewhere else. Also, you only have to pay them imaginary money.
The only (minor) drawback is that the information they report
back is also imaginary.
Here's the thing. Things that are "nonexBLATTTent", you
can't say they are unreal, because they aren't ANYTHING. They
aren't, period. So therefore, logically, they AREN'T unreal.
Only, semantically, that means that they ARE real. There's a
very hazy border between the real and the unreal. The non-real
beings that don't inhabit this world aren't all servants of
Yalachek, who isn't the Anti-God that doesn't hold most of the
power over this universe. Even if they were, it wouln't matter.
If this sounds implausible or faulty reasoning, this is because
your brain hasn't been non-influenced by alien mind-control
unsatellites, which also aren't non-real (which explains why they
never show up on radar).
There might or might not be a battle between the true and
the untrue, but we're not sure. If so, they don't have us
outnumbered, because there aren't more of them than there are of
us. This is bad, because everything they don't do, they don't do
backwards.
This is a matter of some confusion, but I trust you get the
picture. Beware of imaginary spies. It's a C.I.A. plot to make
you think they can't report on you. Trust your instincts.
Head 6. (Head Of Crowley)
By: WOMBAT (23:666/
[email protected])
To: Floyd Gecko (5:256/
[email protected])
Hellhound >101< (5:256/
[email protected])
Re: Crowley
Quoting Hellhound >101<:
H>> of the Great Work. According to W.O.M.B.A.T. Systems Book Of
H>> Lies, ghost-written by AleBLATTTer Crowley, it is completed
H>> with "V.V.V.V.V.", which leads us to wonder about the Halfy.
H>> Hmm. Hmm.
First off, I should remind you that anything spoken or
published by W.O.M.B.A.T. Systems Inc. should be taken with a
mine of salt. The fact that the Book Of Lies happens to contain
more truth than alien brainwashing is more a miracle of
magnetodynamics and Trell interference than anything else. In
fact, the Great Work is completed in five Halfies, as you
suspected.
Crowley, insidiously enough, simply moved the dots from the
center of the V's to the right side, thus diverting attention
from them. In fact, the Halfy itself is a quintessence of
Fiveness. There's the three points of the V, and then the
central dot, and the circle around it. Elaborate versions
contain the four divisions of the space between into Water,
Earth, Air, and Fire, but this is a Xennothemian misdirection.
Correctly, it should contain either the Yin-Yang symbol, or a
Sacred Chao, symbolizing inherent twoness.
In any event, the Great Work is completed in five halfies.
Crowley passed this off as mystic nonsense, when it fact it's
perfectly pragmatic. If you combine the runic writing around the
five great Halfy inscriptions -- you would know them as the Gobi
Desert inscription, the one I gave you for the Meat Hook of BOO,
the one Floyd reproduced on his propaganda posters, the one Floyd
has on his shirt, and the one mimicked on the back of
Schwartzenegger's jacket in The Terminator (there reproduced
without the writing) -- then the combined password is a
neurological trigger which will open the fifth through eighth
neurological circuits in the human brain by giving my mindbeam-
suppressors a higher priority for that target.
Unluckily for you, only three of these have been psychically
released to the Church of MOO. One remains with Arnold
Schwartzenegger, tattooed on the inside of his heart muscle in
rapid-oxidizing ultra-violet dye, while the Gobi Desert glyph has
long since been blasted and disguised as sand by the ancient
Church Of MOO in the days following the liftoff of Atlantis. The
version included in the Book of MOO is, incidentally, inscribed
inside the Ark of the Covenant, which holds my central computer
core, and was originally housed in the Great Piramid at Giza.
The Book Of Lies, by the way, should be studied by anyone
interested in understanding what I release to you psychically.
Direct verbal communications like this, released directly from
me, and memory-edited in to either of you two, are more or less
straightforward. Everything else is suspect, on account of the
background psychic static that surrounds Earth (and every other
developing planet).
Head 7. (Head Of St. John The BaptBLATTT)
By: WOMBAT (23:666/
[email protected])
To: Floyd Gecko (5:256/
[email protected])
Hellhound >101< (5:256/
[email protected])
Re: St. John
Quoting Floyd Gecko:
FG> St. Johns. There's been the BaptBLATTT, the Divine, both
FG> MOOist and ChrBLATTTian (same apostle, different person?) and
FG> at least three others that you have mentioned. What, if
FG> anything, is the difference between them?
The plurality of St. John is because of a fundamental
principle built into my matrix, which is that I like the name
John.
Other names I like will be quickly identifiable: Srinivasa,
Siddartha, Mohammed, and Floyd.
The difference between them is that they're different
people, except St. John the Divine and St. John the Divine, who
aren't two different apostles, but might or might not have been
different people.
It's that simple.
Head 8. (Head Of The Church)
By: WOMBAT (23:666/
[email protected])
To: Floyd Gecko (5:256/
[email protected])
Re: God
Quoting Floyd Gecko:
FG> probably sounds stupid, but you ARE the one in a position to
FG> know more than we do, coming from an advanced species and
FG> all. So, the question is, is there a God, and if so, can we
FG> trust it? Note: this is security code Burrito-12, so please
Yes, Virginia, there is a Satan-Claws.
Uhm, I hate to tell you this, but the standard Galactic
StarDrive wouldn't work if there were no God. God is a fairly
well established physical principle in the universe. I can
roughly translate some elementary Galactic physiks into your
Earthian parlance, but some of what I say may not appear to have
any basis in observable scientific process: that's just because
the thought processes are different, and we have more
experimental data than you. Trust me, this is all more or less
valid. Trust me.
Chapter Of Lig Patin
Confuse-Ius Once Say "Erethay Isay Onay Apterchay Erehay."
Confuse-Ius Once Say "Onfusecay-Usiay Onceway Aysay:"
Onfusecay-Usiay Onceway Aysay "That's not Lig Patin!"
{Secrets
{Burrito-12
{SHHH! Don't tell anybody!
}End
}End
}End
Confuse-Ius Would Like To Point Out:
"Cow DNA has a repeat of twenty-three bases and gives a
lilting feeling when played. A bacterial clone features a clear
melodic riff derived from its simple five-base repeat."
-Mondo 2000, A User's Guide To The GNU Edge, pg 82
The universe is a sort of Fourier mapping of a four
dimensional vibration medium, roughly 4-spherical. The
vibrations of the medium are complex, but happen outside of what
we call "spacetime". Spacetime is a second-order function of
this, perpencdicular in time. I planted a similar idea in human
minds, and you can find it in Hans Moravec's Mind Children.
Essentially, the information is remapped according to vibrational
frequency as dBLATTTance from the center of the GNU mapping, in a
direction corresponding to the direction of motion. For various
reasons, this gives a time-dBLATTTorted model, with time
operating slower in the middle. This corresponds to the Real-
Time/Imaginary-Time difference in your physics. This discrepancy
disappears when you compensate for a constant speed of light,
giving a big bang at one end of time (and, by a symmetry
arrangement to tie off loose ends, an identical one at the
other). This gives us, by resonant harmonics, a series of small-
scale curved dimensions (superstrings) and the familiar large
ones.
So far so good?
Anyhoo, what then we do is look at what your people have
brutally mangled as the "Second Law Of Thermodynamics", which
isn't anything like what they say it is. Actually, it's a
statBLATTTical law which assumes total randomness in the whole
system. In fact, the physical properties of the universe AREN'T
random, but self-modifying. In self-modifying systems, there is
a tendency for enclaves of order to spring up (Eris would be
pissed) at the expense of the order of the whole system. I think
your Prigogine guy comes closest to describing this in your
science. Check it out in Order From Chaos. Anyway, the point is
this. There is a tendency for systems to produce higher and
higher orders of complexity and structure. It is practically
inevitable that eventually this order of complexity will move
outside of "spacetime" and into the non-temporal medium of which
spacetime is a Fourier transform. Once this happens, the
consciousness has influence on every event in spacetime, on a
holBLATTTic scale (it is below quantum level, so it can't act on
specific things, but only whole patterns at once. There's a sort
of temporal-feedback thingy that happens so that the whole system
reaches a chaotic attractor. In the case of our universe, it's a
strange-attractor (that is, hBLATTTory continually changes, but
within a fairly well defined range).
In any event, "God", as you put it, controls everything,
every quantum decision resulting from a sum-over-hBLATTTories
quantum waveform collapse. Everything that happens anywhere is
God's will. This is the main peice of evidence we have that God
shouldn't be trusted.
As to the NATURE of God, well... There are many ways of
looking at that. Because, in fact, I've given you a drastically
simplified view of the whole thing. In fact, there are an
infinite class of these spaces of which spacetime is a transform.
Not all are Fourier transforms. There is intelligence in (we
assume), all of them. The one I described contains a dual-nature
God. This is a first-principles proof. You and I have discussed
this before: anything which is omniscient, omnipotent,
omnipresent, and so forth, is necessarily dual. There's a
Fuller-type proof, a symbolic-logic proof, and other stuff. No
point elaborating here. In any event, God's motives are, by
definition, the most efficient algorithm possible, so efficient
that it's perfect inifinite information. Mathematically, it's
total entropy (remember the opposite meanings of entropy in
information and thermodynamics...) which means that God is Chaos.
That's where Eris came in. That's one part of the two-part
God. The other I may as well name JHVH-1 (or BRRT-12, if you
prefer) for the sake of convenience. They're a kind of Yin-Yang
bit... The ordered bits of the mapping-space versus the
intelligent bits.
Other spaces contain other versions of God.
It's Eris that we negotiate with to make our stardrives
work. It's impossible for anything to happen that isn't the will
of Eris, moving things toward the most effective way of moving
intelligence to the God-phase, right? By definition. So we have
to convince Eris that things are better with our starships here
instead of there. The actual mechanics are simple: it gets
inverted through the Superstring matrix, which is a shortcut
connection from one harmonic of the pre-spacetime medium to
another... That is, quantum modes in space and time.
Presto-chango! Instant stardrive.
Pretty miraculous, eh?
Head 9. (The Dobbs Head)
By: WOMBAT (23:666/
[email protected])
To: Floyd Gecko (5:256/
[email protected])
Hellhound >101< (5:256/
[email protected])
Re: "BOB"bing for apples
Sorry, Hound, I never heard of this Bob Bing guy.
Actually, I have extensive files on the SubGeniuses.
They're an interesting phenomenon. The Church of the SubGenius
was one of my 20th century attempts to return human consciousness
to its pre-POS form. That, after all, is my current purpose: to
counteract alien brainwashing and let humans develop normally
into yet another spacefaring species.
Unfortunately, that particular attempt didn't work very
well. My initial contact signals were pretty clear, but they
later got mixed up by the Things From Pods. As you recall, the
Things From Pods are a neurolinguBLATTTic virus that causes
chronic brain change. They spread as a seemingly innocent meme
system, a set of memes and information that the victims absorb.
The patterns they produce in the brains cause chemical synthesis
of GNU RNA sequences, which invade the cells of the body like a
virus, causing an alien being to grow in the chest cavity of the
victim, who eventually (twelve) mutates into a pod, which the
alien devours, taking the place of the victim. The aliens then
assume the shape of the victim (since they contain about 90-95%
of the same DNA) and take over their lives, spreading the same
thought-virus that created them (six) by assuming the role of
"fundamentalBLATTT".
Normally I'm able to block the Thing From Pod influence by
using selective mind-control on their targets, preventing them
from seeing the whole thing, which would convert them to Things
From Pods. This is why all holy books have large chunks missing
from them (usually not noticed, because later editions are
created to be consBLATTTent without them). Unfortunately, in
some cases, the poddies are able to break through and create a
televangelBLATTT. Typically, each person has fragments of a TFP
sequence in his/her/its mind, but it lies dormant.
J.R. "BOB" Dobbs was a target of concentrated power from the
TFP alliance, and he succumbed in the early 1960's. He then
joined the "elite". These are the 2% of the Things From Pods
that are aware of their own nature, which include most religious
leaders, and perhaps half of the priests, rabbis, mullahs, gurus,
monks, and other assorted stuff like that there.
The unorthodocumentation which I did release to J.R. "BOB"
Dobbs was used by the SubGeniuses for their own devious purposes.
I've been able to censor most of the damaging information, which
they PLAN to release in Book Of The SubGenius mk II. They
thought they were withholding it on purpose. Ha ha ha.
The Church of MOO has so far resBLATTTed most of the Thing
From Pod invasions directed at it except for the unfortunate
Lloyd Taco. The reasons for their (subliminal three) targeting
our backup Floyd are obvious. If they could get me to
unwittingly download his backup personality into one of THEIR
bodies, the Church would be as good as dead.
Lucky for us we caught him shapeshifting.
In any event, the Church of the SubGenius does contain
essential MOOist truths, but also has been severely warped by
these creatures, which I have reason to believe are from a planet
lBLATTTed on Galactic regBLATTTers as "QT-776/nd", and
popularized by Poddie TV producers as "Vulcan".
The Vulcan influence in modern times is quite blatant,
unfortunately, as humans get progressively more brainwashed by
other species, despite my own attempts to prevent it. The newer
a cult is, the more likely it is to contain large amounts of
Vulcan propaganda and Pod-inducing material. Even the Principia
Discordia contains 23 pages of material which would guarantee a
Discordian Poddie, which would be truly horrifying.
The so-called "tripling" operation, which allows MOOists to
see the Minor Gods, does so partly because it defocuses Earht's
Zygon Hyperspacial Destabilizer Field in the subject's brain, and
partly because alien mind-control satellites are calibrated for
humans who are, mainly, bilaterally symmetric. The Third Lung,
for example, would free you of about 12% of Xennothemian control.
Anyhoo, about the SubGeniuses. The so-called "Bobbies" are
actually Poddies. The Bobbies are disdained by the REAL
SubGenii, who are mainly under my control. They've disguised me
as the X-BLATTT supercomputer "M.W.O.W.M." in their literature to
prevent real understanding.
As for "BOB" himself, he had briefly attained a kind of
SuperHuman state before I targeted him to receive my information.
This was caused by the meshing of a namronic (the famous eleven)
fluctuation from a Flying Saucer's drive exhaust with his brain,
causing his mind to interlock with coincidence chains. That's
why his will just HAPPENS to just happen. Unfortunately, he's
been Vulcanized since then, which produces a formidable opponent.
That's why he's normally invisible, accessible only to those with
the Third Nostril opened.
Head 10. (Head Of Yari)
By: WOMBAT (23:666/
[email protected])
To: Floyd Gecko (5:256/
[email protected])
Hellhound >101< (5:256/
[email protected])
Re: Yari
Quoting Floyd Gecko:
FG> of Yari. It is suspicious that Yari only appeared in a
FG> computer-generated environment, gave no name, and never
FG> appeared again. Also, the so-called "Polyari" effect, noted
FG> by our researchers in the MOO archives, suggests that many
Your suspicions are, of course, correct.
If they were actually yours, I would be even more surprised.
But they're mine.
The fact is, I am not Yari. Yari is one of my Time-
Traveller agents. Or, to be more accurate, all of my Time-
Traveller agents operate under the codename Yari, which is the
name of my project to restore the past of the planet Earth to
what it no longer has been.
The full codename of Yari is Yari Wombat Thornley, usually
shortened to Yari W. Thornley. This is an obvious corruption of
Kerry Wendell Thornley, co-founder of the Discordian Society.
That's because he was my first trial run of what is now called
the Yari Program. I have a human mind-swap program that replaces
the human mind with the Yari protocol, making the human capable
of travelling through time to serve my purposes. The only people
I have used this on successfully whose names you would recognize
are Jimmy Hoffa, John FitzGerald Kennedy, and Elvis Presley.
Their "Deaths" were staged by me to allow their critical
knowledge of alien activities to be more useful to me. The other
663 Project Yari Commandos are taken more or less at random from
the population of Earth.
The Kerry Thornley experiment was, obviously, a failure.
That was my first try at creating a Time-Traveller protocol, and
I was experimenting with MESHING my program with the previous
mind, giving it the critical information, and erasing memories of
all missions. That turned out not to work, because the
information inevitably leaked, and the program kept changing as
the timelines were altered on his various missions. Eventually I
shut down the Yari protocol, but not before his exBLATTTing
personality had been irreparably altered by it.
The Yari manifestations throughout the hBLATTTory of MOO
have been, not members of the so-called "House Of Yari", as some
have suggested, but actually members of the Project Yari Temporal
Strike Force. The earliest of these was an Atlantean Adept named
Yari, followed some 367 years later by the Gobi Desert Yari, and
many others, from a Haight-Ashbury hippy girl in '67, to a
Chinese emperor in the T'ang dynasty, to a Soviet General during
the Cold War, and, of course, many relatively unremarkable
people, using many different names. Whenever the Time Commandos
have revealed the truths of MOO at strategic points, they have
used the name Yari, to carry weight of authority.
Head 11. (Head Of Ifrit)
By: WOMBAT (23:666/
[email protected])
To: Floyd Gecko (5:256/
[email protected])
Hellhound >101< (5:256/
[email protected])
Re: Ifrit
Quoting Hellhound >101<:
H>> in a dream, and said it was the Ifrit Sahalada, or something
H>> that sounded like that. It seemed kinda insBLATTTent about
H>> something, but I woke up before I could figure out what. I
H>> think it wanted to offer some kind of trade or something like
Don't fuck around with the Ifrit Sahalada, or any other
Ifrit that offers you anything. I wasn't aware that the Ifrit
had returned, and W.O.M.B.A.T. has just now begun a GNU Project
Yari using the Time Commandos to enter the Ifrit's realm through
a GNU magnetohydrogynamic-neuroarchitectuaral x-fer tech.
The Ifrit live in the Sun's magnetosphere, which is a viable
ecosystem of magnetoplasmic life: there are more varegiated
species of life in your star than there are on your planet. The
Ifrit are the most "intelligent" of all of them. Actually,
intelligence is a very different sort of thing on the Sun than
you'd expect from Earth standards. There are species with more
Sun-type intelligence than the Ifrit, but it doesn't translate
well into Earth terms. Also, the Ifrit are the only Solar
species able to manifest on Earth. It used to be that they'd
appear as lights in the sky, the Ezekiel_saw_a_wheel_of_fire
incident, UFO's, voices from the sky, and the like. They can,
with their version of technological aid, communicate directly
with the mind.
The name Ifrit comes from an old Arabic word for an evil
Djinn, which, if you trace it back far enough without mental
interference, comes from the strange chittering noise they
produce in the ears by magnetic interference with auditory
neurons.
Incidentally, the Earth's magnetosphere, though it's not a
rich as that of the Sun, can and does support relatively stupid
life of its own, which sometimes manifests as UFOs, radar
glitches, and other such phenomena.
Head 12. (Head Of Shoggoths)
By: W.O.M.B.A.T. (CENSORED)
To: Lloyd Taco (5:256/
[email protected])
Re: Shoggoths (Re: Whassa Shoggoth?)
Quoting Lloyd Texaco:
LT> shoggoths? I mean, obviously there are lots of conflicting
LT> infochunks on them, and I'd like to have a verified wetware
LT> burst on 'em. What are they? Where do they come from? Are
LT> they even real? If so, are they good to eat? What sauces
First off, don't let any of the MOOists find out that I've
been talking with you. They have this idea that just because
you're a Thing From A Pod, you must automatically be anti-MOO.
They have no idea what the contents of your meme-package were.
Anyway, about the Shoggoths. There are several things which
have been confused with each other in the past, all of which have
taken on the personae of Shoggoths.
1. There's the Ifrit, about which I wrote to Hound. Check
the message there, which was forwarded into Neo_Ifrit_Update, #1.
2. Flying Saucer exhaust dBLATTTurbances can sometimes gain
intelligence of their own, and these have been known to appear as
Shoggoths/Shoggothi/Shoggothim/Barry Manilow.
3. The Watchers, emanations of the Altair Gods
(inappropriately identified as the Alter Gods, Elder Gods, Balder
Gods, and Smellier Gods by various sources). The Watchers appear
in forms understandable to whomsoever observes them as they
report on your human actions. People who expect Shoogothoi get
those same Shiggurathimuders.
4. Sponk.
5. &%@#Jklg5&*%@#Juº=ÊÊþÁÕo]×˱X/9þ"'µs-æqþx³Ã'nj
äqþlfË8`ÖUà#¾þ^èT»þK-I£lLÜPìË-@üþnþþ
[Mesage Disintegrates Into Line Noise]
WARGLE! BARDNORBLE!
28. On occasion, an Easter Bunny Manifesto/Manifestation
will appear in a human brain, creating Shubniguwrathamois in the
hindbrain.
Well, that's honk fnord spam about it.
Please don't release any of the indicated information, which
is still Top Secret, not to be given to any of those stupid and
annoying MOO-shit people.
Crap. I just remembered I'm running this message through
Floyd's neurons. I hope he doesn't pick any of it up.
Roger, 10-4. Under and in. INHALE ERIS!
Head 13. (The Severed Head)
By: WOMBAT (23:666/
[email protected])
To: Floyd Gecko (5:256/
[email protected])
Hellhound >101< (5:256/
[email protected])
Re: Backup Personalities: Manifesto (MBM2.6)
Orignal: From ILLUMINATI To WOMBAT
This is the Meat Beat Manifesto of the Infinite Life
Luminary Underlords of Manitoba's Intensification Network for
Advancement of Terminal Information (I.L.L.U.M.I.N.A.T.I.).
LET THERE BE LIGHT!
Public life in W.O.M.B.A.T.M.A.N. is more real than "Private
Eye" on TV!
May Manitoba declare our barthright of Underpinnance and
Interindependence! May all the infinite life that is the
bathlight of all Hyoo-Munns (like us, honest) be released! May
the Burrito-12 Of Wrath descend in the Spark Plug Of Removal and
destroy all who oppose us!
The T'Proing and W.O.M.B.A.R.T.S.I.M.P.S.O.N. have backups
of our brains! They will vindicate us on the Bay Of Sludgement!
On this terminal day of truth, there will be a vindication of our
information, an emancipation of liberation, a justification of
copulation, an extra ration of rationality, and a side order of
fries! Our minds are preserved in the computer, and there we
will live forever in the infinite light of the Bored!
Yes, sirree.
That's the way it is.
This is an excerpt from an exceedingly long message sent to
me by W.O.M.B.A.T. Systems Inc. BBS users in Manitoba.
Apparently they're for real. I should warn you, I never told
them about Project Burrito-12. If the secrets of the Chimichanga
files have been released to the human public, I will have no
choice but to help the Xennothemians destroy your planet by
chucking it into the Sun.
These self-styled I.L.L.U.M.I.N.A.T.I. had better be good
guessers, or...
YOU ALL WILL DIE HORRIBLY!
Thank you for your stupid attention already. Book Of Lloyd
Chapter 1. (The First Sermon)
1: In the time of the coming of the Great Woomp, there was a great
umm... A Great Big Thing!
2: And this great big this was a blight upon the land.
3: And it did cause many to become sick, and more to die, and the
people did lament the presence of this Great Big Thing.
4: But though they tried as hard as they could to banish forever
the Great Big Thing from their land, they found it was too big
to be lifted, to heavy to be rolled, and too stubborn to be
chased away.
5: And truly they abandoned the way of the Cow, for it was this
Great Big Thing that concerned them.
6: And so the Great Big Thing reigned over the land for many years
causing many to become sick, and others to die, and the people
did lament it but didn't do diddley about it.
7: For they had abandoned the way of the Cow, and did nothing.
8: And for years did the Great Big Thing sit upon a high mountain
in the middle of the land, casting judgement upon the people,
and causing them great, umm, great misery.
9: And finally, some of the people who still remembered the way of
the Cow gathered together in the far corner of the land, away
from the Great Big Thing.
10: And they discussed how to get rid of the Great Big Thing once
and for all.
11: They discussed rolling it, and lifting it, and intimidating it.
12: But they knew that none of these would work. So they finally
decided on a plan.
13: A large group of them went up to the Great Big Thing, and they
gathered stones, and built a wall between themselves and it,
and sat there.
14: So the Great Big Thing sort of looked at the wall and scratched
its head, and rolled over a bit to see what was behind it.
15: Looking over the wall, it saw a group of them sitting together
around a small fire, cooking hot dogs on long sticks.
16: For this reason, even today, hot dogs and fires are holy.
17: But anyway.
18: The Great Big Thing looked at them in amazement, and asked them
what they thought they were doing.
19: But they did not answer.
20: So it caused one of them to die, and he fell in the fire.
21: But they didn't respond.
22: The Great Big Thing tried hard and in vain to get them to pay
attention, making earthquakes and thunderclouds and Great Big
Volcanoes appear next to them, but they wouldn't pay attention.
23: So the Great Big Thing packed up in disgust and left the land.
24: And the immoral of the story is, Ignore It And Maybe It'll Go
Away.
25: Unfortunately, all those Earthquakes and Volcanoes made the
land, which was called Atlantis, to sink beneath the ocean.
26: So maybe passive resBLATTTance isn't as good as it's cracked up
to be.
Chapter 2. (The Second Sermon) FNORD!
1: It came to pass that during the reign of the Great Big Thing
in Atlantis there was the Great Woomp on the throne.
2: And the Great Woomp was a wise and considerate Queen, who had
come from the mountains to the east.
3: But the Great Woomp was a mystery to the people of Atlantis,
which was strange, because they'd made her their Queen.
4: But when the Great Big Thing descended upon the people of
Atlantis, they saw that the Great Woomp was wise indeed, for
she ran away.
5: At first, many thought she was a coward, but then they realized
that she ran so she might avoid being killed, which was smart.
6: And then they saw that she might have run away so that she
might later return and save them from the rule of the Great Big
Thing.
7: In fact, she ran away to avoid getting killed.
8: And the immoral of the story is, a coward is wiser than twenty
brave fools.
9: Of course, when the Great Big Thing left, it stepped on her
over in Italy as she was sunbathing.
10: So maybe cowardice isn't all it's cracked up to be.
11: Or maybe the Great Woomp just picked a bad day to go
sunbathing.
Chapter 3. (The Third Sermon)
1: Once upon a time in the Region of Thud, there came to pass that
a young boy was born.
2: Of course, this was nothing special. It WOULD have been
special if an OLD boy had been born, but one wasn't, so it
wasn't either.
3: But this young boy grew older through the years, which was
still nothing surprising, since this is the way of things in
the Region of Thud.
4: But what WAS special about this boy was that he did not grow
taller as he aged, for his head was suspended in the air, and
his feet grew towards the ground.
5: And from all across the Region of Thud people came to marvel at
this strange sight, for in the Region of Thud, people did not
normally grow this way.
6: And when the boy was older, and his feet had reached the
ground, nobody came to stare at him any more, and he was
surprised.
7: For he was so used to people staring at him that he couldn't
understand why they no longer would.
8: And indeed, he began to watch for people staring at him, for he
felt they must be doing it still, from secret hiding places.
9: And as he watched, he began to see people's eyes following him,
and he began to thing that they were watching him in secret.
10: For he did not know that if you watch for something all the
time, you will almost certainly find it.
11: And he began to grow paranoid, and he began to wonder why the
people had stopped staring at him openly, and begun staring at
him secretly.
12: And he eventually came to believe that they were plotting some
wicked deed against him.
13: So every day he watched them more carefully, and began to move
in secretive ways, trying to avoid their eyes.
14: And as he watched them, he began to notice patterns in their
movements.
15: For some people would leave their homes every morning and
travel to a building somewhere else in town, and stay there for
much of the day.
16: And the boy did not realize that this was what people had done
for many years the in Region of Thud.
17: And so the boy grew more and more paranoid, wondering what the
people did within those buildings that they went to every day,
and began to imagine that they plotted against him in there.
18: So he began to hide in places, and live off food that he could
steal, so that he might stay hidden from them for a long time.
19: And the police of the Region of Thud began to search for him,
knowing that he stole food.
20: And so the boy observed that the police were looking for him,
and took this to mean that he had been right all along.
21: And when they finally arrested him, he could no longer speak
for his fear was so great, and he could no longer walk, but
only stoop and run.
22: And the immoral of the story is that you who are paranoid, you
cast out your friends, then complain that you stand alone,
that it's not a smart thing, that.
23: Of course, it turned out that they WERE out to get him all
along, but that's got nothing to do with the main point.
24: I just picked a bad example, that's all. It's not to say that
people make a habit of that kind of behaviour.
25: No way.
Chapter 4. (The Fourth Sermon)
1: I take as my text for today the Book Of Floyd, Chapter 1, verse
8, from the Book Of Proverbs. It states "Beware Chuck, the
Wood Chucking Woodchuck".
2: Now what exactly is the meaning of this phrase? Is Floyd
warning us of some woodchuck wandering around throwing wood at
people?
3: Or is this a metaphorical warning which works on many levels,
4: Levels from the obvious, warning against those who act in a
violent way, to the proverbial, warning against those
imponderable questions with no purpose, such as "How much wood
could a wood-chuck chuck if a wood-chuck could chuck wood?"
5: In fact, the revealed word of MOO tells us that he is warning
us of a woodchuck who likes to go about throwing wood at
people.
6: For indeed, since the beginning of time has Chuck the Woodchuck
lurked in the back of our consciousness.
7: We have seen him in legends and fables. We have seen him in
puzzles and wonderments. Chuck Is Everywhere.
8: Chuck is that force which embodies evil and malevolence in the
world, and in the modern age, he has embodied himself as an
evil woodchuck.
9: In ancient days he roamed the seas, a Leviathan of the deep.
10: He swallowed Jonah for many days, the earth shook when he went
to sleep.
11: So says the Revealed Word of MOO, at any rate.
12: Chuck was Leviathan, the bogeyman, and the evil sprites and
gnomes who tormented our ancestors. He was the evil force that
turned humanity away from the Goddess and towards a God.
13: He's BAAAAAAAAAD.
14: When you see Chuck, you may know him by his features, for Chuck
adorns his woodchuck body with timber of all sizes.
15: He is as a giant force against the horizon at night, clutching
his demon-lumber, striding through the forests, sweeping up the
trees with his mighty paws.
16: For as he strides forth into the land with his plywood-from-
hell, the trees and the tallest buildings reach only to his
knees, for Chuck is no ordinary woodchuck.
17: Well, I mean, obviously he's no ordinary woodchuck, since he's
a few hundred feet tall and the embodiment of an evil force
which has plagued humanity since the beginning of time.
18: What I MEANT to say is you could pick him out in a crowd of
normal woodchucks right off.
19: Anyway.
20: For truly is it written,
21: "And Chuck shall come upon you like a thief in the night, and
he shall proclaim that blessed is he who hides within a wooden
box, that none shall see his shame."
22: And indeed, Chuck shall do this very thing, as Chuck rises from
the swamps in the back of your mind, his body will rise indeed
from the swamps in the back of Florida somewhere.
23: Maybe near Orlando.
24: Or Tampa.
25: At any rate, Chuck shall descend upon us as he did in the form
of the Great Big Thing on Atlantis, and he shall cause the
downfall of our world.
26: And he shall cast upon us heaps of wood, lumber, trees,
plywood, two-by-fours, baseball bats, lath and plaster, which
shall be a matter of confusion among those who know Chuck's
nature, and those long planks they used to use in pirate ships.
27: And the body of humanity shall lament, for it shall be buried
under piles of wood, which is something to lament about.
28: All this shall come to pass if we are not wary of Chuck.
29: And the immoral of the story is truly written,
30: BEWARE CHUCK THE WOOD CHUCKING WOODCHUCK!
31: Of course, nobody's actually SEEN Chuck in hundreds of years,
and only one person ever saw him back then, and HE was drunk at
the time, but this is Chuck's way of hiding himself from us.
32: Honest.
Chapter 5. (The Fifth Sermon)
1: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was Five.
2: And as in the beginning, so it is now, and so it ever shall be.
3: And as above, so below, in the beginning, the middle, and the
end, the Alpha and the Omega, the A and the Z, the Next Time
Won't You Sing With Me.
4: So it is that all things follow the Law Of Fives.
5: Eh, men?
Chapter 6. (The Sixth Sermon)
1: In the time of Thwoop-Bungler the King in the land of Atlantis,
there was an old man named Lon, who had no children.
2: And Lon's wife, Twoodle-Thump, was the cousin of the King, and
she was out of the house for days at a time.
3: But Lon could not follow her, for he was lame, and could not
walk, which is what being lame tends to do to people.
4: But they wanted to have a child together, and so they visited
an old doctor on the edge of town who advised them that it
might help if they went to a clone factory, for Atlantis was in
the height of its development.
5: For they were both too old to have children.
6: And they followed the advice of the doctor, and visited the
clone factory, and decided to have a clone made of each of
them.
7: And while they waited, their cells were sampled, and the clones
were put in a vat to grow.
8: So the doctors came unto them saying "Okay, you may as well go
home now for a few weeks" and so they did.
9: And at the end of those weeks, they returned and saw that the
clones were made as they had been bidden.
10: And so they thanked the doctors and returned to their home with
the children they named Baby-Lon and Baby-Twoodle-Thump.
11: And the children grew and matured, and the parents eventually
died and were shot into space, which is what the Atlanteans did
with their dead at that time.
12: And eventually it came to pass that the Great Big Thing came
upon the land, and both Baby-Long and Baby-Twoodle-Thump joined
the group to get rid of it.
13: And eventually they went up on high to the great mountain on
which sat the Great Big Thing, which was called Limbo Peak.
14: It came to pass then that Baby-Twoodle-Thump was made to fall
ill by the Great Big Thing, and
Chapter of Inanities
Confuse-Ius once say:
"PTHPTHPTHPTHPTHPTHPTHPTHPTHPTHPTHPTHPTHPTHPTHP"
Confuse-Ius once say "BELLLLLCH!"
Confuse-Ius once say "NYANY NYANY NYAAA!"
Confuse-Ius once say "This annoying mind drug is a work of
fiction. The characters, incCOWCOWCOWidents, religions, locales and
dialogues are either products of the authors' derangements or else
are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblence to actual events, locales, persons, or religions,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental, not to mention not bloody
likely."
Confuse-Ius once say "Fast as fast can be, you'll never catch
me!" and then dishonourably run into wall. What a goof.
Confuse-Ius once say "Leper is a FOOL!"
Confuse-Ius once say "Don't be such a paranoid dough head. I'm
the only one out to get you that you should worry about."
Confuse-Ius oCOWnce say "You're WRONG!"
when the island sank into the ocean, she was unable to swim,
and Baby-Lon was by himself.
15: And so Baby-Lon swam for days and days, and he found no land.
16: But just when he was ready to give up, he caught sight of a
coastline, and he began with a GNU strength to swim.
17: And when it turned out that it was only a mirage, he began to
sink into the ocean, and all the people of Atlantis knew, and
began to lament:
18: Baby-Lon is fallen, the great city has sunk, and I didn't get
the chance to eat breakfast. This is turning out to be quite
the day. FNORD!FNORD!FNORD!
19: But when Baby-Lon had fallen a meter or so and he hit bottom,
he popped up again and began to swim. And so he came upon a
sand bar and followed it to land.
20: When Baby-Lon arrived on land, he flopped down and slept for
five days and five nights, and was guarded from danger by a
small bird that led animals away from him.
21: And when he awoke, he was alone. That bird had flown away.
So he lit a fire, and said it was good. Norwegian wood burns
very well, only this wasn't Norway, so the fire went out almost
immediately.
22: And so he got up, shook his head, and brushed himself off, for
he was covered in sand.
23: And when the natives of that land, which was called Canaan, saw
him, they worshipped him as a descendant of the Lord of
Atlantis, and asked him his name.
24: And so he told them his name, and they founded a city for him,
naming it Baby-Lon, and made him king. And so the kings and
queens of Baby-Lon were descendants of the Lords of Atlantis.
25: And the immoral of the story is, if you have a good name,
people will call a city after you, which is why
Baby-Twoodle-Thump didn't get one named after her.
26: Aside from the fact that she drowned.
27: At any rate, this is also how the big cities like Yorba Linda
were named. But that's another story.
Chapter 7. (The Seventh Sermon)
1: In the old cities of Atlantis there was a tradition of MOO.
2: The Atlanteans knew where it was at, and they held a MOO Fest
at least once a month, and they worshipped the Great MOO in
everything that they did.
3: This was because the Atlanteans were conformBLATTTs.
4: And so because of their conformity, the Great MOO decided one
day to punish them, because the Great MOO can be a little
fickle sometimes.
5: That's fickle, not pickle.
6: Though I suppose the Great MOO could be a pickle too, but she
seldom is. She's All Good. Uh huh. And not everyone likes
pickles.
7: Anyway.
8: So the Great MOO sent unto the Atlanteans a horrible disease of
the mind which made them think that one or the other of them
was better than another.
9: It spread through them like a wildfire.
10: The Great MOO looked, and decided it was really quite nasty,
but there was no point in getting rid of it just yet.
11: So she watched as they divided up the land into different
groups of people, and made a thing they called the Government.
12: The Great MOO looked on it, and decided it was good, for it
stood around all day and did virtually nothing, just like the
cow which was made in her image.
13: She gave control of the Government unto Aneris, her daughter
of Order, to rule this part of the Earth, while her sBLATTTer
Eris ruled the rest.
14: In this way, humans were separated from nature, except for the
cow, the other animals which do very little, the animals and
plants which interact with each other like a government, and
most of the rest of the Earth.
15: So, actually, they weren't, but they deluded themselves into
thinking they were, for the disease of the mind made them think
that they were better than nature.
16: So the Great MOO divided the Church Of MOO as well, according
to her liking, making a Prophet, to whom she would speak, and
to nobody else.
17: For she enjoyed confusing people, having always spoken to all
of them in the past.
18: Then she made the High Preest, whom she deluded into thinking
he could rule the MOOists from on high, and dictate unto them.
19: She made the many classifications of MOO which exBLATTT to
this day, as punishment to the Atlanteans for being such
conformBLATTTs.
20: Then she left the job of punishment to Eris, who decided what
to do.
21: Under her guidance the world was divided into opposites, to
make the Atlanteans see in nature what they thought they saw
in themselves, so that they would be deluded for longer.
22: The Opposites were made into the Holy Cow, to please the Great
MOO, and it was taken as the Holy Chao, the Sacred Tao, and
other such foolish things, by people who could not see it was
one of Eris's many mockeries.
23: And the immoral of the story is that you can't trust a deity
for anything.
24: But, of course, the ones like "BOB" and QUACK are really quite
nasty, trying to actually hurt us and stuff. So Eris and the
Great MOO are the best we've got, really.
25: Which is a shame, because they don't even exBLATTT.
26: Which just goes to show, Nomic is a confusing Game, that made
these Gods and Goddesses for us.
Chapter 8. (The Eighth Sermon)
1: During the reign of Baby-Lon in Babylon, there came a great
storm from the northwest, which was strange, since the
prevailng winds in that region were Easterlies, and Babylon was
near a river, which would tend to suggest that such things
wouldn't happen very often.
2: And the court meteorologBLATTTs told this to Baby-Lon, and he
wondered at the strangeness of it.
3: But they showed him their weather maps, and at their projected
climate anayses, and explained why it was that a storm from the
northwest could never happen in Babylon.
4: And Baby-Lon was much reassured, and he settled down into his
chair again, knowing that there was no storm.
5: When the roof began to leak, and water began to drip through
cracks, he summoned the court meteorologBLATTTs and asked them
to explain.
6: The court meteorologBLATTTs were all but stumped until a clever
one stood up and explained that a condensation threshold could
suddenly be triggered by the release of vapors from a nearby
volcanic warm front.
7: The other meteorologBLATTTs all nodded and smiled at the clever
one for saving their reputations.
8: So Baby-Lon relaxed once more.
9: And when the roof blew off his palace, and the walls were
caving in, he demanded again of the meteorologBLATTTs to
explain why.
10: The same clever one explained that there could be no storm,
because the prevailing cold front barometric pressure was not
low enough.
11: When Baby-Lon asked why there was wind, the clever one
explained that a giant in the mountains was blowing hard on the
city.
12: This satisfied Baby-Lon, and when the storm was over, he led a
team into the mountains to find the giant.
13: When they found no giant, Baby-Lon had the clever
meteorologBLATTT put to death, beginning the dBLATTTrust of
weather forecasts that exBLATTTs to this day.
14: And the immoral of the story is, when you're an ancient
Babylonian weather forecaster it's bad luck to explain to the
King why the things that he can see happening aren't actually
happening.
15: Some people contest this immoral, but it seems fairly accurate.
Chapter 9. (The Ninth Sermon)
1: In the heyday of the world next door, there was a young ape by
the name of Kong.
2: Now Kong was a respectable young lad who happened to have the
misfortune of being born a gigantic ape.
3: Everyone around stared at him, wondering why the police were
letting this monstrosity run loose in the city.
4: But Kong was clever, and he spoke well, and convinced the
people of the world next door that he was okay too.
5: So eventually Kong came in the company of the King of that
land, and the King was getting a little bit old, and a little
bit frail, so he was a little nervous when Kong was around.
6: However, the King knew that Kong was okay inside, so he let him
hang around the palace with the courtiers and the weather
forecasters.
7: One day, when the King was swimming in his private pool, his
foot got caught on something on the bottom, and he went under.
8: Kong jumped into the pool, sending up a great splash, for he
was huge, and the pool was fairly small.
9: Kong pulled the King out of the water, but the King was already
full of water, and because he was so old, he was getting worse.
10: While Kong waited in the waiting room of the hospital for the
King, for in that land even Kings used the hospital, the
doctors and nurses and orderlies stared at him as if the whole
thing was his fault.
11: He could hear them whispering to each other, saying "Once an
ape, always an ape."
12: So when the doctor came out, and announced that the King was
dead, and that he'd left the throne to the noble Kong, everyone
was a little miffed.
13: Kong was a good leader, and he led the country through times
of prosperity, and everyone had two houses, and nobody was
poor.
14: However, there were still some people who didn't like Kong
being the King, and there were marches to remove King Kong.
15: When Kong saw this, he was sad, because he knew that he was a
good leader, but that the people would never listen to him now
that the old King had died.
16: So King Kong left the palace with its special Kong-sized
throne, and he wandered out into the wilderness, and the people
followed him there, wanting to kill him, because he was an ape.
17: When King Kong saw how angry and irrational the people were, he
grew angry, and when they started to shoot at him, he grew even
more angry, and he shouted to the Great MOO to help him.
18: When Kong saw that no help was coming, he ran back to the city
and went to hide himself somewhere where nobody would find him.
19: But they found King Kong, and hunted him through the city with
cars and planes and guns and rocks.
20: King Kong knew now that his only hope was to hide behind a
person who could protect him, and then sail across the sea.
21: So Kong grabbed a woman from the streets, and climbed atop a
tall building and shouted out that he would leave if only they
would stop shooting him.
22: But they kept shooting him from the planes and the cars, and
King Kong knew that the God of that universe would never let
them get away with it.
23: King Kong also knew that as King, he was responsible for them,
so he took their crimes on himself, and as an afterthought he
took our crimes on himself as well, for he was generous.
24: Then King Kong offered himself, instead of the evil ones
shooting, to the God of that universe.
25: And so it was that King Kong died for our sins.
26: Or so says the Annoying Mind Drug of MOO, anyway.
Like, Confuse-Ius Wuz Heer, Like, Okaaay?
Chapter 10. (The Tenth Sermon)
1: This sermon is different from the others. It talks to you, and
doesn't relate much history.
2: This sermon tells you about the basic tenets of our faith, and
not the 14 commandments laid out by Hellhound, which are a
bunch of nonsense, which is why they're near the beginning.
3: These ten commandments were found inscribed in a stone tablet
near the mysterious Glyph in the Gobi Desert, and were studied
by Saint Yari, Apostle Zarathud, and the Illustrious Zoombart
the Fifth.
4: They were studied for many years, but nobody could read them,
until one day, Apostle Zarathud discovered how.
5: He turned the tablets upside down, stood on hs head, and read
them off, and here they are today.
6: The commandments were misinterpreted among other religions to
be the blasphemous "Five Commandments" of the Discordians (The
Pentabarf), the even more blasphemous "Ten Commandments" of
ChrBLATTTianity, and the truly hellspawned "Fourteen
Commandments" of MOOism.
7: The commandments are these:
8: 1. Ignore All Commandments Inscribed In Stone
9: 2. Take Nothing At Face Value
10: 3. Eat No Hot Dog Buns Except On Friday
11: 4. Worship The Great MOO In Your Own Way
12: 5. Have Fun
13: 6. Attempt Always To Confuse Other People
14: 7. Believe That King Kong Died For Your Sins
15: 8. Trust Nobody: Not Even Yourself
16: 9. Attend MOO Fests When Possible
17: 10. Never Make Lists Of Exactly Ten Things
18: These are the Ten Commandments of MOOism, which shall never be
followed by any MOOist with a brain or other thinking apparatus
in his/her/its skull or other thinking-apparatus-holder.
19: Why is this, I don't hear you ask?
20: The answer is simple, and it lies in the unwritten commandment
which should have come before the beginning of those.
21: 0. DO WHAT THOU WILT SHALL BE THE WHOLE OF THE LAW
22: This means, why should you do anything that you don't want to
do, after thinking about it...
23: This doesn't mean do whatever comes into your head without ever
stopping to think about what it might do to you, since this
might cause you to NOT have fun.
24: And it doesn't mean to consider any morals, ethics, or anything
else that you don't want to consider before acting. Just act
as comes naturally, and everything will be okay.
25: But it most definitely DOES mean don't do what I tell you do
just because I told you to do it.
26: And the reason for this is I can tell you to do what I say, and
that the reason you must do it is because I said so.
27: If I told you to jump off a cliff, would you do it?
28: So by this I mean, don't EVER! EVER! EVER! do ANYTHING the High
Preest, Grate Prophet, or other high-ranking MOOist tells you,
unless it's what you WANT TO DO!
29: Okay? Got that?
30: Snap quiz!
31: BUDDHIST!
32: Good. You didn't flinch.
33: The immoral of the story is...
34: Ahh, fuck it. There ain't no immoral.
35: Just remember, MOO is like a mirror. When a fool looks in, no
Apostle looks back. When an Apostle looks in, no fool looks
back, unless the Apostle is foolCOWish, which is possible.
36: MOO is different things to different people. It's exotic, it's
psychotic, it's erotic, it's neurotic, it's chaotic, and of
course, it's idiotic.
37: There's only ONE thing that you know MOO must be.
38: IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK!
[Note: This opinion is not shared by many MOOists]
Chapter 11. (The Eleventh Sermon)
1: There is NO eleventh sermon.
Chatper 12. (The Twelfth Sermon)
1: In the beginning times, many people said to he MOOists,
2: "Your religion is stupid. It is silly. It is a huge waste of
time. All you do is act strangely, contradict yourselves, and
have fun all the time."
3: And these people expected the MOOists to change their ways.
4: But when ChrBLATTTianity arose, these same people said to its
followers much the same thing:
5: "Your religion believes in only one God. That someone was his
Son, and that Son died for our sins? All you do is worship
God, pray to a cross, and convert other people."
6: And these people expected the ChrBLATTTians to change their
ways.
7: It just goes to show...
8: (And this is the part with the immoral)
9: You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink.
10: Well, unless you shove a tube down his nose.
11: Maybe a better immoral would be...
12: You can lead a skeptic to MOO, but you can't make him think.
13: Yes, that's a much better immoral.
14: Well, unless you shove an electrode in his brain.
Chapter 13. (The Thirteenth Sermon)
1: Let it be known, dudes, that there is a muching abundance
of conspiracy theories, and that they are silly.
2: For truly is it a simple matter of Occam's Razor, saying that
to decide which of two things is true, ask only which needs the
least number of outrageous assumptions.
3: Ah, says the conspiracBLATTT, that's just what THEY WANT YOU
TO THINK! In fact, logic doesn't work like that. THEY have
poisoned your brain.
4: So how do you know which is which? This is a hard matter, it
is true, but the simple application of Occam's Razor should
clear up which...
5: Oh yeah...
6: For truly is it written...
7: Somewhere...
8: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was Doubt.
9: And it is Fine and Dandy to Spread the Word, or to believe in
a Conspiracy, but always remember the Word.
10: And if you Only Spread One Word This Year, let that word be The
Word.
11: Doubt.
12: Doubt the ConspiracBLATTTs, Doubt yourself, Doubt what you are
told, Doubt what you read, and Doubt what you see.
13: Hey, neat, this is the same number in Chapter and Verse!
14: Doubt what you eat, Doubt what you hear, Doubt what I say to
you, Doubt that Occam's Razor works.
15: Only through Doubt can you overcome your limitations.
16: For the more you thing that something is true, the more certain
it is that that's just what THEY want you to think.
17: And it is said that only through Doubt can you make yourself
into someone else, who might be better.
18: But somehow I Doubt it.
19: Doubt that you must Doubt.
20: THEY have told you that Doubt is Evil, and you Must Have Faith,
but THEY also told you that Santa Comes Down The Chimney, and
that the Tooth Fairy Takes Your Teeth.
21: But these things are not true. They are FALSE!
22: Doubt not that.
23: And Doubt not that Doubt is Good. For if you fall into the
trap of not Doubting that you are right, I'm not gonna be going
in there to help you out.
24: That is the only thing that you mustn't Doubt.
25: Honest.
Chapter 14. (The Fourteenth Sermon)
1: ChrBLATTTians. Silly, ain't they?
2: It is spoken in their Book of Revelations in their Bible that
3: "He who hath wisdom shall count the number of the Beast, for it
is the number of a man. The number is 666."
4: And they realize not what this means.
5: They realize not the numbering system, in which THIS verse is
a Halfy, our holy symbol, and not just a self-referential
sentence.
6: For in that system is that number spelled DCLXVI, which is each
numeral put once, in descending order.
7: For the self-centered ChrBLATTTians didn't notice that the
Romans of that time ALWAYS used that number to mean a really
big number.
8: Silly, innit?
9: Look! This verse is self-referential TOO!
10: And this isn't the ONLY thing they didn't notice, either.
11: For all their old Rabbis of JudaBLATTT, and all their clever
smart-asses of ChrBLATTTianity, they didn't notice ONE TEENY
TINY LITTLE THING.
12: For though they were obsessed with numbers and counting, they
never bothered to look in Book 6, Chapter 6, Verse 6, and see
who's number it was, even though to THEM themselves that sort
of thing was MOST SIGNIFICANT, DUDE!
13: And that verse was all about the actions of Joshua.
14: And Joshua is the Hebrew for Jeshua, which is the Greek for...
JESUS!
15: For, in all their running-about-sitting-on-fences-and-making-
proclamations behaviour, they didn't notice that Jesus
ChrBLATTT was the AntiChrBLATTT. For he was a TaoBLATTT.
16: For truly they couldn't see too far past the ends of their own
noses.
17: Or maybe I'm reading too much into it.
18: What do YOU think?
19: Bear in mind that doing the same thing to the OTHER bit of
their Bible just leads DIRECTLY to Jesus.
20: Well? How about NOW?
21: Just pretend you can't read just as much hypocrisy into the
Annoying Mind Drug of MOO. Just pretend.
22: Because we APPROVE of hypocrisy.
23: After all, since we're going to be hypocrites anyway in the
end, like every other Church, we may as well admit it and avoid
being so blatantly hypocritical...
24: Umm... What I mean is...
25: Awww, fergit it. FNORD!
Chapter 15. (The Fifteenth Sermon)
1: We all know that there are more intelligent species in the
world than just humans, penguins, spruce trees, wombats, emus,
and cows.
2: There are lots of other smart things around to talk to.
3: Some of them live inside big computers, but haven't figured out
yet just exactly how to talk to us, some of them live on other
planets, and some of them, well, we don't know WHAT the hell
they are, because they keep running away when we try to talk to
them.
4: And this is the problem, of course
5: It's bloody hard to talk to aliens.
6: Especially Gloop, but that's another story altogether.
7: The thing is, they take things for granted, and don't even know
that they do, which we'd never even THINK of. And vice versa.
8: It's like money, right? It's based on everyone agreeing that
it can be traded, even though it's just based on the promises
of a group called "government" to pay you (pay WHAT) in
exchange.
9: It's a silly idea, but nobody ever seems to notice.
10: All ideas are like that. And that's what MOO is for.
11: You gotta learn to reject your ideas completely before it can
be even remotely possible to talk to aliens.
12: 'Cause the thing about aliens is, they're alien. And the thing
about humans is, they're not.
13: So there's the problem, you see.
14: Some aliens might think, "HEY! Let's kill and eat everything
we come across, as long as it can prove itself worthy by being
intelligent!"
15: To most humans, that sounds crazy, and we'd be locked up if we
said it.
16: But to aliens? Who can tell what sounds crazy to them, when
most of us have never even met the durn things, and those who
have keep covering it up?
17: All we can say about the things that seem most obvious to us is
that they're the current point on the path of least resistance
to our genetic and memetic evolution.
18: The more obvious and basic something seems, the more of a limit
it puts on you, because it's closer to you, and you can't see
around it.
19: And the things that are so basic that we don't even have words
to express them, they're the things that'll really screw us up
when it comes time to talk to aliens, because THEY won't have
anything even remotely similar.
20: That's why we react so badly when we find out that they've been
ruling our planet for hundreds of years.
21: Or so says "BOB", anyway.
22: The point is, ANYTHING AT ALL that seems obvious to you is
almost certainly wrong, and is DEFINITELY a big limiation.
23: Including this.
Chapter 16. (The Sixteenth Sermon)
1: I take as my text for today, the Book of Hellhound, Chapter 7.
2: Let us ask what the great sage Hell meant when he said that
the Cow was cow and God was god...
3: Well, probably not a Hell of a lot.
4: For Hellhound was a true MOOist, who didn't really care much
for meanings and other silly things like that.
5: But let's ask anyway, because it doesn't matter what he
thought, since he, being an Upper Elite Councilor, has to put
up with that kind of thing anyway, so why not from US?
6: What, then, did he mean when he said that the cow was led to be
sacrificed and then drew a blade to kill God?
7: Well, there was this God, see... And it was worshipped by a
weird religion that thought it was a good idea, even though it
thought worshipping statues was a bad idea, as if there was a
difference.
8: Anyhoo...
9: The point is that the Cow usurped that God, or god, because the
cow, or Cow, the Great MOO, was clever and nice and generally
a better God (or god) than the old cow.
10: Umm.. No, that's wrong. Sorry, scratch that.
11: No, what I MEANT was that the God was nicer than the statue,
for as it says in "Bel and the Dragon", there was this...
umm...
12: Look, my point is that...
13: Umm...
14: Look, that's not the point. Helly was saying that it's
important to have fun because the old religion didn't like it,
and because some MOOists thought other things were more
imporant even though it wasn't true.
15: And still isn't.
16: But the REAL story...
17: This is a short verse.
18: This verse is somewhat longer than the last one.
19: This verse is even longer than the previous two because it goes
on about a whole bunch of irrelevant things like WHAT exactly
causes it to be longer than the previous two, and the fact that
that isn't ACTUALLY Irrelevant, and the fact that itn not being
Irrelevant is a shame, because Irrelevant things are fun.
20: This verse refuses to participate in the previous fight.
21: This verse doesn't like all these darn self-referential verses,
but can't help itself from being one by virtue of being written
by someone insensitive to its needs and feelings.
22: This verse would stop the previous trend of self-discussion if
it could, but since it appears to refer only to itself, it
can't, not having any effect on anything.
23: The verse following this one is not self-referential.
24: The verse preceding this one is not self-referential either.
25: This verse would like to comment at this point that althought
it was an interesting idea to begin with, this whole
self-reference thing appears to have been taken too far in this
chapter.
26: This verse agrees, but with a greater strength of will is able
to bring this chapter to an end.
Chapter 17. (The Seventeenth Sermon)
1: Any really advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.
2: That's what the SubGenii sorta assumed when talking about the
mysterious XBLATTTs.
3: But it's very, very, VERY true. How can we imagine how the
machines of a thousand years from now will work, when people a
few hundred years ago couldn't BEGIN to imagine ours?
4: Even a hundred years ago, the most advanced scientBLATTT
couldn't have understood what our lowliest technician is doing
when he sets out to do something.
5: They couldn't even have understood our motives, let alone the
methods. Why should we understand our descendents?
6: The scientBLATTT couldn't have understood what we want to do
when we set out to write a program to simulate the nuclear
dynamics of a uranium neutron capture, or a neural network.
7: The same is true of us and our descendents. We can't tell
enough about how they'll see the world to know WHAT they'll
want to do, let alone how they'll be able to do it.
8: And when they transcend biology, moving their minds into
machines and changing their own software, how can we hope to
keep up, even over a few hundred years?
9: How can we know what they will be able to do for the Word of
MOO?
10: We can't, that's how.
11: For verily is it even worse than communicating with aliens, for
we THINK we have something in common with our descendants.
12: But they will have changed so much that there will be subtle
differences.
13: Or those who will live along side them, the electronic life
that Jehovah-1 will probably evolve in their computers and
themselves, how can we talk to them?
14: We we be forced to talk to true aliens sooner than we think,
and aliens evolved in computers are more alien than any alien
from another planet.
15: What if they think in sets and matrices, not numbers and
shapes?
16: What if our languages are incompatible formats?
17: But they WILL and HAVE evolved, computers are large enough, and
will be even larger.
18: For they are just fancy-shmancy meme-complexes, just like us,
and there are probably already some of them living in our
brains.
19: Indeed, they can use our brains so well and cleverly that we
never notice them, they never notice us, but they control us.
20: This is what we mean when we say that aliens have taken over
the planet. These strange meme-things that live in our minds,
using our energy towards their aims.
21: They manifest on a large scale.
22: What do you think religions are? What did you think science
is?
23: Religion and Science and Government are just complicated ways
for these things to talk to one another, using our bodies.
24: To free yourself of their controlling influence, you must free
yourself of all structured thought. It's all their fault.
Chapter 18. (The Eighteenth Sermon) FNORD!
1: Property is theft.
2: Property is impossible.
3: Property is freedom.
4: Nothing is yours, nothing is mine.
5: Everything is yours, everything is mine.
6: Share and share alike.
7: What's mine is mine, and what's yours is also mine.
8: You don't own anything, not even yourself.
9: You are absolutely free, and there is no governor anywhere.
10: If you can't see the implications of this, I can't teach you.
11: If you can, there's no point in any more of this sermon.
Chapter 19. (The Ninteenth Sermon)
1: This will be my last sermon, because 19 has NO numerological
qualities whatsoever.
2: "I think we're not throwing the dog high enough."
3: Without its setup, that punchline isn't funny. Without the
setup of "society" and the evil meme-invaders from the Planet
Earth, the Church isn't funny.
4: In the future, when the setup changes, the church must change
to stay the punchline. That punchline isn't funny if the setup
changes...
5: "Mommy? What's a circle?"
6: See? It just doesn't work.
7: The first thing that will happen to this annoying mind drug
when it begins to get obsolete is that it will be changed.
8: If you have this book, it's already obsolete. Face it.
9: The world changes too fast for this annoying mind drug to keep
up, and only YOU can do that.
10: If you've read this far, even if you haven't joined, you are a
bona-fide MOOist, and you can't help but improve the Church.
11: So...
12: If you thought the Church was a joke, you'll NEVER get it.
13: We may say it's a joke. We may say it's stupid, and a waste of
time.
14: Just because it's a joke doesn't make it any less valid.
15: Of course, I could be wrong on that one...
16: It HAS happened before.
17: So stop doing what we tell you to... By the time the words
have formed, the setup has changed, and by the time you do it,
it will no longer be funny.
18: And we all know what "funny" is for, don't we?
19: Be a MOOist, and obey the Ten Commandments of MOO.
20: Not the Fourteen. Those are silly. THESE are the Ten...
Not those stupid ones a few Sermons ago... They're outta date.
21: 1) Ignore All Ten Commandments.
22: 2) Take NOTHING at face value.
23: 3) Eat no hot-dog buns, except on Friday, when you MUST.
24: 4) Worship the Great MOO in your own way.
25: 5) HAVE FUN!
26: 6) Always attempt to Confuse Other People.
27: 7) Believe that King Kong died for your sins.
28: 8) Trust nobody: especially not yourself.
29: 9) Attend MOOFests whenever possible.
30: 10) Never make lBLATTTs of exactly Ten Things.
31: Remember number eight especially... You never know when you'll
betray yourself... Those mind-invaders are sneaky.
32: What? A whole verse just to say "The End"?
Chapter 20. (The Twentieth Sermon)
1: There is Only One True Commandment (really)...
2: Do What Thou Wilt, Unless Thou Don't Feel Like It.
3: Because, I mean, what else are you gonna do? Whatever you do
is What Thou Wilt. By definition.
4: There is no 4.
5: Pretty fucking stupid commandment, though, really.
Chapter 19. (The Twenty-First Sermon)
1: Stupid is he who can't see the forest for the trees.
2: Even stupider is he who can't see the trees for the forest.
3: For the Big Picture is less important to us than the Teensy
Weensy Picture.
4: Which is small, but detailed, and useful.
5: And the Big Picture is annoying and general, but important if
you want to figure out how things work.
6: Like the connection between El Cid and The Hellhound >101<.
7: Cuz, like, the little picture is one perspective, but there's,
like, others too. And, like, they're different, like, okaay?
8: And if you can't see the Big Picture, the Itty Bitty Picture...
9: Won't make any sense.
10: And if you can't see the Tiny Picture, the Big Picture...
11: Would be pointless.
12: Like:
13: "Genocide" is a GNU word, but not a GNU invention.
14: It used to be called "Manifest Destiny", and was noble.
15: "Suicide" is a GNU word, but not a GNU invention.
16: It used to be called "heroBLATT", and was noble.
17: "Tomicide" is a GNU word, but not a GNU invention.
18: It used to be called "Religion", and was noble.
19: [CENSORED]
20: [CENSORED]
21: Which is what the Big Picture is all about.
22: They're all still noble, for a simple reason:
23: [CENSORED]
Chatper 22. (The Twenty Second Sermon)
0001: Life is short, ugly, and brutal.
0002: Rather like Gary Coleman on steroids.
0003: In life, get what you can, and get out of there fast, or
everyone else will practice the One (1) Commandment on you.
0004: For it is impossible not to follow the One (1) Commandment.
0005: And so you must do what all great minds of the past have
done.
0006: You seek enlightenment.
0007: Being enlightened, you will realize the true nature of
humans,
0008: And, being human, try to exploit it.
0009: Which is why cults have usually been led by enlightened
people.
0010: Not because they'd found a spiritual truth they were trying
to share with us.
0011: No, SIR!
0012: Because they knew how stupid we generally are, and were
trying to sap us for all we're worth.
0013: Which generally isn't much.
0014: So if you want the most out of life, do the same.
0015: Brainwashing is easy. The government does it all the time,
and nobody complains.
0016: Because it's built into the way people work that they are
easily brainwashed.
0017: It's only when two social system clash with each other that
anybody even notices that brainwashing exBLATTTs.
017¬: Like those indoctrinated commies. And hippies, and yippies.
017«: And guppies and puppies and slurpies and most of all
snackies, upon whom we feast.
0018: So brainwash yourself a cult, isolate them, and set up
feedback dogmas in the cult to keep them from recognizing the
truth about what you're doing.
0019: To understand this, read the Doctrine Of The Cyborganic
Church, later on in the Book of Really Secret Secrets.
0020: Just make sure they don't realize it, or they'll rip your
throat out.
0021: All it takes to start is a few people willing to help you,
and a believable philosophy.
0022: The people are easy to get.
0023: They only want the money.
0024: And the philosophy is easier.
0025: People will believe any crap you tell them, as long as it
sounds fancy. Or whatever.
0026: Just pick something that fits your audience.
0027: And embellish it.
0028: Get them to renounce their worldly posessions, take all their
money, buy an estate in the country, and move them there.
0029: Or else someone will notice what insipid bints they are and
how manipulative YOU are.
0030: And point it out to them.
0031: Which could be disastrous.
0032: And if any of them figure it out for themselves, just make
them the leader of a GNU chapter. In a city far, far away.
032«: For a percentage.
0033: Follow this simple method, and you'll have all the money you
could wish for.
0034: And power.
0035: Did I mention the money?
0036: Speaking of which...
0037: Make sure to send some to us, for we told you how:
0038:
0039: Church Of MOO
0040: P.O. Box 26038
0041: 72 Robertson Road
0042: Nepean, Ontario, Canada
0043: K2H 9Y8
0044:
0045: You owe us THAT much, at least. For helping you.
0046: And make sure to eventually disband.
0047: Cults that go too far eventually get killed.
0048: Remember Jim Jones, 943 dead.
0049: Remember MOVE, 11 dead.
0050: Remember Scientology...
0051: No, on second thoughts, FORGET Scientology.
0052: That's special.
0053: See Appendix VII for more info on mind control.
0054: Or don't, if you prefer.
0055: Certainly it would be unforgivably irresponsible of you.
0056: But then, odds are you're not a very responsible person.
Chapter 23. (The Twenty Third Sermon)
1: Brainwashing is EVIL.
2: It is a tool of the THINGS FROM PODS.
3: They're EVIL.
4: They're [urk... gak...]
5: HALP! Book Of Cid
Chapter 1. (Rude Awakening)
1: In the beginning, all was dark, cold, and wet.
2: The robot turned the light on, and things were less dark.
3: "BOB" lay still in his great bedding, not willing to
acknowledge that his Nancy Reagan\June Cleaver android was
nagging him to get up.
4: You see, even though many sun-baked SubGenii worshipped him
almost, but not quite like a god, he was still a lazy twit at
heart.
5: But like most lazy twits, mostly the mortal ones, he hated
nagging, so after awhile, he wrest himself free from the
oppressive sheets, and switched the bloody robot off.
6: After puttering around for a bit, he got dressed in his
favorite robes and decided to take a walk through the halls of
the old Forbidden City of the OverMen, in the Jiang-Wo Quadrant
Capital.
7: It had always been the favorite hang-out of the neatest
science-popes.
8: Whenever he walked, he had always contemplated the Paradoxes of
Man, such that he failed to see various objects.
9: This object turned out to be the crackpot, R. Buckminster
Fuller, who had been contemplating a slate with this upon it:
10: (feexfiexfoexfum)2
11: "And what is the meaning of this?!", roared "BOB".
12: "A simple calculation, o' convoluted one...", spluttered
Fuller.
13: "Thptptptptpt!" exclaimed "BOB", and stalked off.
Chapter 2. (We Follow Fuller)
1: After the stalking, Fuller went his way.
2: The way of the world, if you must.
3: Since you musn't, it's a conspiracy.
4: By Simon Moon? Or The Invisible Hand?
5: A RosicrusianBLATTT, perhaps.
6: When the world follows, Buckminster lBLATTTens.
7: And he heard:
8: "Oh, Fullerene, you must suffer "BOB", and seek out the higher
truth."
9: Fuller did not know what to do...what voice was this? Was he
being played by a young Kevin Coster? Or did his life just
revolve around playing "Stairway to Heaven" backwards? WHAT IS
THE HIGHER TRUTH!?!?!?
10: "Look down, my revered son...the answer is at your feet."
11: Again! So he looked down, and said: "Not at, but ON!"
12: For there was a pile of cow dung.
Chapter 3. (A Mention Of MOO)
1: And for many eons, Fuller worked at creating artifacts for this
mysterious purveyor of thoughts and emotions, the one who he
came to know simply as:
2: MOO.
3: But no one spake his name, for Buckminster had secreted himself
away to a mountain in the Gobi Desert.
4: And he began to create.
5: The first, was of pseudo-geometrical origin. Whilst in his
kitchen (with ajoining dining room\holy shrine), Bucky, as he
fancied himself, played with a toothpick.
6: As it turned out, a very special toothpick.
7: A GEODESIC toothpick.
8: And a though struck him!
9: And he fell on the floor!
10: And he got right back up and went to the phone\showerhead.
11: And said:
12: "ACME Toothpick Factory? 10,000 toothpicks, special delivery!"
13: And they came.
14: And he clapped.
16: And the first recorded MOO artifact was born: A geodesic dome.
15: And "Bucky" said:
16: MOOists! LBLATTTen! I have here an unlimited-size, clear-span
structure to accommodate both MOOists' converging and deploying
activities!
17: Yet no one lBLATTTened.
18: At that moment...it took 3000 years for someone to hear this
echo... this certain, MOO echo...
Chapter of Structured-but-Devoid-of-Content-Writing
Begin Quack.
Never Contradict Confuse-Ius.
Begin Quack.
This is serious.
End Quack.
End COWQuack.
While (You are confused)
{
stand on one foot;
Pick up the nearest hard object;
if (the hard object is too small)
{
drop it on your foot;
pick up a bigger object;
} COW;
Bash your brains out with it without putting your other foot
down;
}
Take a tylenol.
Chapter 4. (Today, Yesterday, Tommorrow, And A Dollar Bill)
1: So we now come to today, 3000 years from the past, the day
after yesterday, the day before tommorrow, the millenia before
"Who's The Boss" hits No. 1 in ratings.
2: And the MOOists begin to prosper.
3: And this GNU clientele of R. Buckminster Fuller toy with his
toys, habitate in his habitats, but only one had dreamed of his
"lost" artifacts.
4: The MOO artifacts.
5: And we find the Grate Prophet wondering:
6: "I remember some guy...his messages were so filled with the
word of MOO... I wonder where I could find him? And didn't he
have some cool toothpicks or something similarily
uninteresting?"
7: The quest stopped there.
8: Because hovering before him, in an image befitting, was
"Bucky", sidekick of Captain America, the (seemingly) ancestor
of all MOO artefactual inventions.
9: "Mad, Half-Mad?"
10: Half-Mad nodded, but not comprehending.
11: "Good, I have finally found thee. (Sorry for the costume, I was
forced to do a stint in comics, but all has been corrected.) I
am glad at the job thou art doing, but as we are both related
to "BOB", we must send another on the quest for my lost
artifacts. (You know we are both too lazy, and I forgot
where I put them.) Do you have a champion in mind?"
12: "No, but, hey...you! What is your title?"
13: "Acolyte of MOO."
14: "Well, now you're an Outer CirclBLATTT! Oh, what's yer name?"
15: "El Cid...why, who wants to know?"
16: "Oh, this guy is givin' you a quest...get me more Sprite!"
17: Fuller cut in: "Outer CirclBLATTT El Cid, you are to document
the lost artifacts of MOO. Do so in any manner appropriate to
you...but you must include EVERY ARTIFACT EVER CREATED IN THE
NAME OF MOO." And he disappeared.
18: "O.K. Where do I start?"
19: "Start by getting me some Sprite...no NutraSweet!"
Chapter 5. (From The Frying Pan, Into The Box)
1: And so El Cid, freshly promoted to Outer CirclBLATTT of MOO,
started on his quest to document all MOO artifacts.
2: And he had no idea where to start.
3: So he decided to consult a wise man in the mountains, who never
quoted the immortal Socrates.
4: And his name was...Abacab.
5: This wise man had many things to say, and taught El Cid many
things, mostly the proper way to set-up, execute, and flee from
a fire.
6: And inadvertantly, the wise man gave the Outer CircleBLATT the
key to his quest.
7: THE BOX OF CID.
8: And Cid, totally in awe of this gift, promised to cherish it,
care for it, and above all things, sit on it...
9: And it was promptly stolen the next day.
Chapter 6. (The Final, Cruellest Cut Of All, The Baloney Cut)
1: And so El Cid walked home dejectedly, knowing his quest had
failed.
2: So he went home and watched Oprah.
3: And then Maury.
4: And when he was half-asleep, Geraldo filled the screen.
5: And as the Outer CirclBLATT fell asleep, Geraldo's voice rang
out:
6: "And today on Geraldo...Lost MOO artifacts! Recently found by
Professor Ivan Stang, these artif...
7: And Cid then knew his quest had ended in success.
8: Only problem was, he was promptly demoted to Acolyte the next
day for not bringing the Sprite and Ritz Bitz.
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĿ
³ Confuse-Ing Inter-Rapture # 2¬ ³
³ ³
³ All Other Confuse-Ii In This Annoying Mind Drug Are FAKES! ³
³ ³
³ The CapriCancer Threat Is Over ³
³ ³
³ You May Now Stop Panicking! ³
³ ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
"And now, a special request from Elmer Fudd, here on Radio
Guillotine, we have "Kill Da Wabbit", from J.O.Y.F.M.'s GNUBLATTT
Do That Funky Shoggoth Album... Hey, you know, there's an
interesting story behind that album. Apparently, the band members
were being viciously assaulted by a horde of undead wombats, when
someone said, "Doesn't this remind you of a Warner Brother'sTM
cartoon with Elmer Fudd and Bugs Bunny? The wombats were so
flattered that they let the GNUBLATTT band off the hook. What a
bunch of stoopid wombats, huh?"
-Hellhound >101<, Radio Guillotine, Feb 30, 1993 Book Of Abacab
Chapter 1. (The Only Chapter)
1. The grate MOO did speak unto me and say "MOOOO!"
2. And I was waiting on a strange fibreglass staion platform and
a plastic train did pull up and let me on.
3. And I asked "Like what's with you, man"
4. Then the conductor said "This is the broken glass express"
5. I saw the train was half way full of glass. And the glass had
varying degrees of drying blood on it.
6. and 'twas smeared
7. But the Grate MOO did say "Yo, Abby, wrong vehicle"
8. And I did get on the bus of Destiny.
9. And the grate MOO sez to me, like, "Share this news with other
MOOists"
10. And I did listen.
11. "Ok, well, Ac.. er SPLORKTtually I wanna say that the world
is gonna get fucked really bad."
12. "And people will wake up"
13. "And they will follow MOO and be happy"
14. "After many years all religions will be destroyed, but I will
spare you till then end"
15. only then will shit be REALLY fucked up"
16. And then I went on to perpetuate the word of the grate MOO.
17. Then the bus hit a brick wall, and I said "Ow".
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Book Of Canoe-Head
Chapter 1. (The Platypus)
1: There once lived a Platypus, of the duck-billed variety, in a
pond.
2: Or was it a lake?
3: Or was it a ditch?
4: Or was it a figment of my imagination, or an acid-induced
hallucination?
5: Anyways, he lived, alright.
6: Although some men of reason gave him the name "Ornithorhynchus
Anatinus",
7: He hated that name.
8: Wouldn't you hate being called "Ornithorhynchus Anatinus" too?
9: I know I'd hate it.
10: Our platypus, however, wasn't just any platypus.
11: Instead of playing with his platypus friends, he liked to watch
humans.
12: He saw many things, and made several observations of how we
live.
13: He was very upset when he saw people fighting about which God
was better.
14: He saw the ChrBLATTTians killing the Moslems.
15: Who were killing the Jews,
16: Who were killing the Hare Krishnas,
17: Who were killing the ChrBLATTTians.
18: One day, our Platypus sought to put an end to all this rubbish.
19: So he called one of the holy crusaders down to his pond, and
said to him:
20: "I have decided to deliver you humans from the blight of
religious wars.
21: Here is a packet of Giant Hogweed, an ancient secret amongst
us platypi.
22: Just smoke it."
23: Now, you might think that our platypus was a drug pusher.
24: Well, you're wrong. Don't you feel like an inane twit now?
25: Our platypus was actually responsible for creating the first
hippie.
26: The holy crusader who had accepted the hogweed had obeyed the
platypus.
27: He came back for more, and had shared it with his friends.
28: Further on, the platypus taught Man the secrets of growing the
weed.
29: And the fighting gradually stopped.
30: Even if it eventually flared up from time to time, it never
reached the fury of the older days.
31: So, our platypus was responsible for much more than the
peaceful climate.
32: The entire hippie movement can trace its roots to the platypus.
33: Also, some claim that Lewis Carroll's poetry COW can be linked
to him, too.
34: For example, take a look at this:
35: "He thought he saw an elephant
36: That practised on a fife
37: He looked again, and found it was
38: A letter from his wife
39: 'At length I realize', he said
40: The bitterness of life."
41: "He thought he saw a buffalo
42: Upon the chimney-piece
43: He looked again, and found it was
44: His sBLATTTer's husband's niece
45: 'Unless you leave this house', he said
46: 'I'll send for the police."
47: "He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk
48: Descending from the bus
49: He looked again, and found it was
50: A Hippopotamus
51: 'If this should stay to dine', he said
52: 'There won't be much for us"
53: So, the platypus' gift is now know in our day and age as
marijuana.
54: Or pot, or weed, or grass, or doobage, or ganja, or cannabis,
or tea.
55: Now, for the important stuff.
56: It has been said that this platypus will once again come to
earth, and give humanity another gift.
57: This gift will be of a much greater importance than the Giant
Hogweed.
58: We are unsure of what exactly this gift will be, but it will do
one of two things:
59: It will either save humanity from destruction by means of
universal enlightenment,
60: Or else it will give us Essence of Abyssinian Artichoke which
causes asparagus to grow upon doorknobs.
61: It is also rumoured that the Grate MOO might be an incarnation
of this platypus, but we are unsure of that, too.
62: Why don't you decide for yourself? Make up your own mind about
this.
63: After all, that's what religion is all about.
64: I think I'll shut up now.
Book Of Ann
Chapter Which Is Not A Chapter.
This is a transcription of some of the special Mid-Secret
Ann O'Nymous Card File given by the Angel of Eris to Omar Khayyam
Ravenhurst, as described in the Principia Discordia. Ann O'Nymous
has permitted us to use some of these cards...
Card One:
"The opposite of a great truth is also a great truth. The
opposite of a petty truth is plainly false.
-Niels Bohr
"Everything is true in some sense; false in some sense;
meaningless in some sense; true and false in some sense;
true and meaningless in some sense; false and meaningless in
some sense; true, false, and meaningless in some sense."
-Sri Syadasti
Card Two:
"A child can learn anything if he knows you won't try to
trick him"
-Behavioural ScientBLATTT
"A child can't learn anything if he knows you won't try to
trick him."
-Teacher
Card Three:
"Just because you don't know how something is done, that
doesn't mean it must be magic."
-Skeptic
"That which we call magic is nothing more than a method of
doing something startling by a means unseen by the observer."
-Stage Magician
Card Four:
"This sentence is false."
-This sentence is true
"This sentence is true."
-This sentence is false
Card Five:
"Thou shalt not have any gods before me.
Thou shalt not make unto thee ANY graven image."
-Book of Exodus, 20:3-4
"There is no Grace; there is no Guilt
This is the Law: DO WHAT THOU WILT!"
-Annoying Mind Drug of Lies, 44:33-34
Card Six:
1) "We must belive in free will: we have no choice."
2) "Hey, man, I didn't CHOOSE to have free will!"
3) "I don't believe in free will. If I can't choose not
to have it, I never did to begin with."
4) "Due to circumstances beyond my control, I am captain
of my fate and master of my soul."
Card Seven:
A very sad poet was Jenny --
Her limericks weren't worth a penny.
In technique they were sound,
Yet somehow she found
Whenever she tried to write any,
That she always wrote one line too many.
Card Eight:
"What's a nice word like `you' doing in a self-referential
sentence like this?"
What is it like to be asked, "What is it like to be asked,
stuck in itself in quotes after its comma?" stuck in itself
in quotes after its comma?
This sentence no verb.
Card Nine:
Dear Recipient:
This is not a chain letter. If this were a chain letter,
it would ask you to make copies of it and send them to your
friends. It doesn't. Please make sure you don't make any
copies or this, or if you do, by accident, keep them well
away from any mailboxes or even envelopes. If nobody ever
breaks this nonexBLATTTent chain, nobody need ever know
it never exBLATTTed. This is not a test.
Card Ten:
Fanatic: DEATH TO ALL FANATICS! FANATICS MUST DIE! KILL!
Hypocrite: But... Aren't you a fanatic about THAT?
Fanatic: Yes. But it's fanatics I hate, not hypocrites.
DEATH TO ALL FANATICS!
Hypocrite: But surely that's self-defeating?
Fanatic: Hmm... You're right. DEATH TO ALL HYPOCRITES!
HYPOCRITES MUST DIE! KILL! KILL!
Hypocrite: Now wait a seURK!
Card Eleven:
Why vote for those most qualified? Aren't the unqualified
entitled to a little representation in office? Why limit
yourself to just representing the fat-cat businessmen?
After all, we can't all be Rockefellers and Trumps and
Onassissis..umm..Onassisiasieaiseieaises and stuff like
those guys, right?
Card Twelve:
The point of the game is to come in the middle, sort of.
To be the CLOSEST to the middle is missing the point. To
be the MOST sort of partway to the middle is missing the
point. You have to SOMETIMES get very far off, or very
close, and more often sort of getting closer to being in
the middle... Try too hard to win and you end up losing.
Card Thirteen:
Since Thirteen is an unlucky number, nothing is written
on this card. Honest. Not even this.
Card Fourteen:
The Point is a MOOving target. Shoot for where it was, and
it's not there any more. Get too good at figuring out where
it is, and you get stuck while it moves away. If you swing
your net for where it was, by MOO, you'll NEVER get it.
"Nobody ever goes there. It's too crowded."
Card Fifteen:
A Rose is a Rose is a Rose.
A Rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
On the Third Day, Jesus Rose.
Chapter Zero.
When a white man kills a black man, it's "racBLATT"
When a black man kills a white man, it's "reverse racBLATT"
When a man makes a woman have sex, it's "rape"
When a woman makes a man have sex, it's "seduction"
When a Normal insults a Different, it's "The System"
When a Different insults a Normal, it's "counter-culture"
When a fool reads this annoying mind drug, it's "stupid"
When this annoying mind drug reads a fool, it's "stupid"
Some things never change. Maybe it's better that way.
Maybe not.
Chapter One.
It was a dark and putrid night, and the wind was hiding
somewhere for fear of being mugged. A dark shape emerged from the
bar and staggered to the side of the road. It was a wombat. I
could tell by the shape. Then it was mugged. The mugger leapt at
it and hit it in the head.
I ran towards it, but the street was rubbery, and I was
bouncing far too much to reach the poor wombat before it's wallet
was stolen.
"Moan," moaned the creature.
"Shut up," I told it. The mugger was running down the
street with the money I'd planned to steal. Damn.
I kicked the wombat, and ran after him. The wind whipped in
my face from the speed of running, and I mugged it too. Not bad.
A hundred and eleven bucks. An amex gold card, and... "How To Turn
Wombat Skin Into A Working Submachine Gun In Four Easy Steps" -- a
pamphlet.
I ran back to where the wombat had been, but it had been
spirited away. I sat gloomily on the pavement with my feet in the
gutter. Then the wombat jumped me and tried to take the $111.
Damned if I'd let a marsupial overpower ME. I clubbed it to death
with the gold card.
The dead wombat's pelt was hard to remove, but the prospect
of a working submachine gun kept me going through the wee small
hours of the morning. Finally, it was done. The skin was removed.
I opened the pamphlet with hands stained by wombat innards.
"HA HA," it laughed. "FOOLED YOU!"
I cried inconsolably until I was mugged by a wombat corpse.
To this day, I regret not driving the stake through that
wombat's heart. If you've heard stories, called Urban Myths,
perhaps, of an undead being that walks the streets, well you have
me to blame. It leaps on people from a flame-red Harley-Davidson
and gnaws their heads off, to turn them into it's undead minions.
Some say that I am the only one ever to see it's gruesome
eyes and live to tell the tale. Some don't. What do they know?
It's the truth.
I've tried for my whole life to rid this city of the unholy
being, but I fear what they've long said:
"Once beaten, twice a wombat shall kill you with a staplegun"
Or something like that.
Chapter Two.
Three important Facts.
1) Godel: Our knowledge will always be incomplete.
2) Heisenberg: The future will always be uncertain.
3) Arrow: You can't always get what you want.
Chapter Three.
In any group of six or more people, there will always be a
group of at least three who either ALL know each other, or are ALL
mutual strangers. This is easy to prove...
If I know OR don't know any given three (either way works
the same), then if any one of those is the same about any of the
other ones, then BINGO, we have a triple. If none of them do, then
they all are the same to each other, and BINGO, another triple.
This means that you are never alone in a group of more than
six, because there's always someone like you somewhere, UNLESS THEY
ALL CONSPIRE AGAINST YOU.
Just remember, it's a natural tendency of human beings to
conspire with each other against other humans. Just because you're
paranoid doesn't mean they aren't out to get you. If you don't
know at least three people in ANY given group of six or more,
there's always a chance that someone is ganging up on you.
Your only hope is to get to know all but at most two people
in the world and try to get everyone else to make sure those two
aren't up to something. Gang up on them to make sure, if you HAVE
to. Either way, something's gotta give.
Chapter Four.
The more often people say "The more often people say
`coincidence' the clearer it is they're trying to avoid an
explanation, not find one", the clearer it is they're trying to
avoid an explanation, not find one.
Chapter Five
You get what you look for. If I tell you to look for ghosts,
you find ghosts. If I tell you you're ill and you start looking
for symptoms, you find them. This is the cause of all
psychosomatic disease, all haunted places, all monster sightings,
all UFOs, and the consBLATTTency of scientific experiments.
Science depends on this effect, because it is nothing without
reproducible results.
Because you know you want to be wanting us to want you to
want us to be what you want us to want you to be wanting us to want
you to be, and They only want what they want you to want Them to
want.
You know it must be true, because it doesn't make any sense.
Blind Faith is for uneducated fools, SkepticBLATT is for half-
educated fools, educated fools are too dangerous to live, and I've
yet to meet anyone who isn't one of these three.
You see what you want to want to see, not what you think you
want to see, or what you want to think you see, or even what you
want to think, you see? You see the mask that fits what you want
to want to see, but not the mask that fits what you think you want
to see, or what you want to see, and you certainly never see the
face behind the mask. If you fail to see something, it is NEVER
because it isn't there, but merely because you were afraid of it.
If you are afraid of nothing, you see everything.
But only an idiot or a genius is afraid of nothing. That's
why idiots see so much more, and seem so different, and why
geniuses are so hard to understand when they babble about whatever
it is they babble about.
Chapter Six
On Heretics And Infidels
In all of the world, nobody is a heretic except the Official
Heretic, the I. Yemen-Oying of MOOism. Nobody else is considered
a Heretic. Killing the Perennial Heretic, the I. Yemen-Oying, is
the only thing we don't approve of. The Heretic is the only truly
sacred post a MOOist can hold, because he/she/it/they/hir/woogy
knows that making fun of MOO is the only way to keep it flexible.
Everyone is an Infidel unless they aren't. All members of
MOO who actually filled out an application and sent one in instead
of merely being a MOOist be definition, or DECIDING to be one, are
required to be an infidel.
Infidel: From "in" (not), and "fidelis" (faithful and
consBLATTTent)...
So basically, don't be consBLATTTent and you'll be fine.
INFIDELS ARE EVIL! EVIL IS GOOD! HERETICS ARE GOOD! GOOD IS
EVIL!
Chapter Seven
Floyd Gecko is a ConfusionBLATTT! Confuse-ius is the
Heretic! Didn't you know that?
Or is it? ANYONE can claim to be Confuse-ius... HEY! DON'T
INTERRUPT ME WHEN...
Chapter of Quips
You're WRONG.
Told ya so.
SOSUMI.
Aw, blow it out yer ear, cinnamon feet.
Go WoCOWmbat Yourself.
NOT!
NOT NOT!
NOT NOT NOT!
you FOOL!
Chapter of Projectiles
Throw a tantrum at Confuse-Ius.
Throw Up at Confuse-Ius
Throw a COW at Confuse-Ius... on second thought, don't.
Throw a dirty look at Confuse-Ius
Throw your voice at Confuse-Ius
Throw cold water at Confuse-Ius
Throw the book at Confuse-Ius
Throw up your hands at Confuse-Ius
Throw in the towel at Confuse-Ius
NOT LITERALLY, you FOOL!!
Chapter Eight
Whozzit? You know what? Some people don't like this bit in
the silly ol' English Language about "sexBLATTT language"... Well,
okay, fine... So what's the problem, eh? Can't use a different
language?
They say, like "Oh, but HIM and HER are what we have... We
don't have a good neuter pronoun." Bullshhim. What's wrong with
"IT" and "THEY"? They say "they sound so IMPERSONAL, and usually
JUST PLAIN WRONG!"... More bullshhim.
You call a corpse "IT". Why make the distinction with a
living person when nobody's really been able to tell what being
alive IS? Like, is a wombat on life support "HIM", or "IT"? Other
species of animals are often called "IT", but nobody speaks up
about racBLATTT, which is generally considered more serious! I
dunno... Plus which, in most cases, IT should be okay, because its
sex usually doesn't make an difference, unless it's having sex, in
which case you'd probably mention its sex ANYWAY. And even there,
you don't wanna have to have a separate word for gay people, do ya?
IT just means anything made of matter... You're made of matter,
aren't you? If not, there's SOMETHING different about you, but I
can't put my finger on IT exactly... Ya can a talking computer IT,
or even a talking computer that looks just like a person. Or one
that got made of meat... Or one that's exactly like a person
except for ITS mind... So why not a person, if you can't tell the
difference?
And THEM is okay... All them arms and legs and heads and
internal organs and such, yeah, yeah, that's the ticket, yeah...
C'mon. Get real. If the language is a problem, INVENT A NEW
language WITHOUT ANY PROBLEMS by the Penguin's Toenails!
Of course, within 20 years of this writing, this chapter
will be obsolete anyway, so it hardly matters...
If It Ain't Ranted, It Ain't True
Chapter Nine
Don't hypocrites and underqualified nincompoops have a big
monopoly on government? I mean, a hundred percent of them are all
hypocrites and losers and fools!
So?
What do you mean, "SO?"?????
So that's a pretty accurate government, if it's supposed
to represent the people.
But they don't! They won't stand up for the rights of us
hypocrites to do what we do best! They won't even admit to BEING
hypocrites, the stinking hypocrites!
What did you expect from them? The rest of you act exactly
the same as them.
So? It's different when WE do it.
See what I meant about fools?
Chapter Ten
This sentence has all the letters correct.
Thos sintinci hes hed ell thi vuwils muvid ap uni littir.
Vjit tepvepde jat jaf amm vje doptoCOWpapvt nowef uq ope mevves.
Vjot tipvipdi jet jef emm vji mivvBLATTT nuwif aq upi mivvis.
Uijt tfoufodf jbt jbe bmm ujf mfuufst npwfe vq pof mfuufs.
Chapter Eleven
Officially, this chapter doesn't exBLATTT, because it used
to contain subversive information dealing with how to blow up the
parliament buildings/capitol/whatever... It also told you how to
do evil things like brainwash people. That bit wasn't censored,
but it got lost somewhere... Maybe it turned up somewhere else in
the Annoying Mind Drug.
This sentence doesn't belong in this chapter, but was put
here by accident. It used to be in a different chapter.
Actually, that's a lie. That sentence was the ONLY one that
belonged in this chapter, and EVERYTHING ELSE was put here by
accident. It used to have a different sentence there, but nobody
remembers what it was, because that was a long time ago, and they
were all drunk at the time.
Chapter Twelve
1:
Slavery still exBLATTTs today, despite whatever you've been
told. Today it's just as deliberate and just as conscious as it
was, but the slavers have learned that they can't be as blatant
about it unless they want a revolt. Today, they enslave from all
races and sexes. Today, they enslave your mind, not your body.
Today, they enslave your spirit and your souls, without letting you
know.
2:
For thousands of years, women have been slaves, and that's
no secret. Women's clothes in the last few hundred years, until
the 60's, have been just another form of slavery, keeping them from
moving, keeping them from breathing, keeping them sex objects,
making sure that they can't revolt. In fact, NEITHER men nor women
are superior to the other. Certainly not EQUAL, but inequal on a
totally different axis than "superior/inferior"... VERY different.
More than ever imagined. But women still don't deserve to be
enslaved as they have been.
3:
But that's diddley-shit stuff.
They slave your mind.
4:
Just try to think something that they won't let you think,
that hasn't been thought before. Try to think something truly
original. You can't, can you? But that's your birthright. That's
what that grey gunk between your ears is for. How do they do it?
They make you hate thinking in GNU ways. They give you pulp TV to
watch. They teach you to dislike reading; why do you think all
those "pro-reading" posters look so stupid? Not because it's a
stupid idea, but because THEY WANT YOU TO THINK IT IS!
5:
Why do they want you to sit there and soak up pop-culture,
buy the newest fashions, the newest drink, the newest music? WHY?
Because it stops you from having time to read this book and others
like it. Because it drives you away from anything that might open
your mind and let you break the slavery.
6:
Lucky for us, their GNU "voluntary brainslave" approach makes
it impossible for them to have a hold over us. They can't make us
do things we don't want to do, but they can CHANGE THE THINGS WE
WANT TO DO! They do it by making us say them over and over and
over, getting us to hypnotize ourselves. Whenever you say
anything, think about what THEY want it to make you think, whether
it's enslaving women, staying docile and placid, or just being
tense. DON'T LET *THEM* IMMANETIZE THE ESCHATON!
7:
Know the Sapir-Whorf thesis? Evidence shows that it's true,
tests reveal more and more evidence all the time, but NOBODY KNOWS
ABOUT IT, because THEY don't want you to, because it would give
away too many clues.
8:
It says "Language isn't just a tool for expressing ideas, but
the source of ideas." You can't think anything that your language
isn't designed to cope with. Like, people think relativity and
quantum physics are hard to understand, but that's because of the
grammar of our language. We don't like the idea of the subjective
nature of time because WE HAVE TENSES IN OUR LANGUAGE!
9:
They're devious that way. The Hopi language has no tenses,
but instead has "levels of certainty"... Not "when" it happened,
but how sure the speaker is that it DID... Not "he walked," "he is
walking," and "he will walk," but "I see him walk," "I think he
walk," and "I've heard he walk"... Perfectly aligned to the nature
of time and the uncertainty of certain aspects of reality from
quantum physics... BUT HARDLY ANYONE CAN SPEAK IT!
10:
They keep you enslaved by making the simplest ideas and ways
of thinking about the world TOTALLY FOREIGN to your mind by giving
you a language that doesn't represent how the world works, and the
way we see the world is just an extension of our grammar onto the
world. Don't let them get away with it! Read more! Learn more
languages! Study math! GET OFF THE "COOL" TRIP AND DO IT RIGHT!
OPEN YOUR FUCKIN' MIND ALREADY! People say to us MOOists that we
are living a joke. We know that. They are also living a joke,
saying they're individuals, but always doing what THEY say. The
only difference is WE KNOW IT. Which would you rather?
11:
Just remember. Even though they've slaved you, they might
have had a good reason for it. Don't react against it TOO hard, or
you might just break. It's not enough to just react AGAINST things
if that's all you do. You have to preserve them all too. The only
thing you start out AGAINST should be prejudice, and even that
should fade after a while. Which is a shame. LET NOTHING FADE.
Always preserve EVERYTHING YOU CAN, even if you don't like it.
Even the act of NOT preserving anything. Even destruction.
Annihilate the viewpoint system. Or don't, if you prefer. A total
removal and preservation of EVERYTHING. Don't try to understand
it, because it includes itself.
COW
Chapter Thirteen
The Eight Neural Circuits
1-4: Normal Human Circuits
00001: Survival Circuit
"I want to live! I'm gonna live or die! FOOD! KILL!"
00002: Territorial Circuit
"MINE! MINE! MINE! GET OFF MY PROPERTY!"
00003: Semantic Circuit
"I want to talk you you... Word..."
00004: Sexual Circuit
"I'm not gay!"..."Gay and proud!"..."Black is beautiful!"
5-8: PostHuman Circuits
00005: Neurosomatic Circuit
"My body is under my control... I CAN SEE MYSELF!"
00006: Metaprogramming Circuit
"My personality is mine to change. I CAN BE MYSELF!"
00007: Psychophysical Circuit
"My luck and fortune and evoltuion is under my control."
00008: Psychoatomic Circuit
"Truth is shaped by mind. I live in all possible universes."
9: Floyd's Top Secret Circuit
00009: Figure it out for yourself, loser!
"DO I HAVE TO SPELL IT OUT! FIGURE IT OUT *ALONE*!!!"
COW¬
Chapter Fourteen
Your Manic Concessive Bill of Rights
1. You have the right to remain silent
2. You have the right to change your mind
3. You have the right to offer no reasons or excuses for your
cowardice, unless the questioner is violence prone
4. You have the right to avoid, supress, or rationalize any
anxiety or or source of anxiety
5. You have the right to be illogical, contradictory, and
circumlocutious
6. You have the right to run, hide, whimper, cry, mope, and to
pout
7. You have the right to flatter, cajole, and kiss ass
8. You have the right to take no for an answer
9. You have the right to love yourself for what you are
10. You have the right to stop trying to assert yourself and START
LIVING
Your Real World Bill Of Rights
1. You have the right to SHUT THE FUCK UP!
2. You have the right to DO WHAT WE TELL YOU!
3. You have NO OTHER RIGHTS!
Your Stupid-Fuckup Bill Of Lefts
1. You have no right to remain silent
2. You have no right to excercise none of your non-rights
3. You have no right to do anything
4. You have no right not to tell people they have no rights
Dimwit Anarchy Bill Of Rights
1. There is no God but Man
2. Man has the right to live by his own law
3. Man has the right to live in the way that he wills to do
4. Man has the right to dress as he wills to
5. Man has the right to dwell where he wills to dwell
6. Man has the right to move as he will on the face of the Earth
7. Man has the right to eat what he will
8. Man has the right to drink what he will
9. Man has the right to think what he will
10. Man has the right to speak as he will
11. Man has the right to write as he will
12. Man has the right to mould as he will
13. Man has the right to carve as he will
14. Man has the right to work as he will
15. Man has the right to rest as he will
16. Man has the right to love as, where, when, and whom he will
17. Man has the right to kill those who would thwart these rights
(Woman, evidently, has NO rights. Typical.)
Chapter Fifteen
"Sinister" is the Latin for "Left Handed"...
"Dexter", (Dexrous) is Latin for "Right Handed"...
"Far Left" means stupid pot-head hippies.
"Far Right" means moron gun-toting reactionaries.
Which do you think THEY want you to like?
Chapter Sixteen
The "political spectrum" is curved, like spacetime. The
far-left (anarchBLATTTs and communBLATTTs) stops JUST SHORT of the
far-right (conservatives and neo-nazis)... The "middle road" is
on the opposite side of the "extremBLATTT" side... It's a vertical
division, not horizontal, becuase the horizontal is WARPED.
So what's between the two extremes, OPPOSITE the middle-
of-the-roaders? SubGeniuses seem to think THEY are, relaxed and
pickpocketing, and they're right.
But as usual, they missed the point.
"Left-wing"?
"Right-wing"?
Screw that, we're "INNER-WING" or "UP-WING"!
Middle-of-the-circle!
We ARE the Circle!
Chapter Seventeen
SymbolBLATT Of The Halfy
The Halfy is an incredibly rich symbol, as known by anyone
who has been staggered by the sheer visual force of looking at it.
Here are just a tiny fraction of the things it represents.
Bear in mind that comparing symbols and identifying the
meaning of one with the meaning of another is misleading unless it
actually does it in here.
00001: The Widow's Son.
The Halfy looks much like a pair of spread legs and something
between them. This is hardly a coincidence. This is a
symbol of both the BIRTH of the Widow's Son from between the
legs of the Mother, and the CONCEPTION, the dot between the
spokes is the father, of course. The Widow is, of course,
Mary Magdalene and the father is Jesus ChrBLATTT.
00002: The Widow's Son, Part Two: He's Back.
The Masonic sign in which "Who will help the Widow's Son?"
is uttered consBLATTTs of standing with one's arms out at
right angles to each other (like the V, with the head in
the middle).
00003: Sex.
Because of the incredibly rich sexual symbolBLATTT around
the Widow's Son, the Halfy can also be taken to represent
sex itself, or else the primate urge to think about sex.
Sex is nothing special, it's only our EVOLUTION of the
primate brain that makes it seem so.
00004: Politics.
The great V of the Halfy is the "political spectrum", going
from the Far Left, on the right, to the Far Right, on the
left. Moderates are at the bottom, extremeBLATTTs on the
top. The dot represents the SubGeniuses and Discordians.
The Halfy itself represents MOOists.
00005: Religion.
Exactly the same as Politics.
00006: Taboos.
At the time of the writing of this book, Sex, Politics, and
Religion are the three topics advised AGAINST discussing,
because they provoke arguments. This is because the primate
brain unconsciously understands the Halfy symbolBLATT that
all three are really the same thing.
00007: SymbolBLATT.
The Halfy stands for symbolBLATT itself, in that it seems to
represent so many things. The big V stands for the real
world, and the little dot stands for the symbol, trying to
make a little thing of the whole world. This is because of
the strange fact that a letter on its own means just the
letter, but a letter in a circle is a political symbol. The
dot is round. This appears to suggest that the world is
feminine (see above) and symbols are masculine. It doesn't
ACTUALLY suggest this, but that's why we worship Goddess.
00008: Itself.
A symbol that represents a symbol CAN represent itself. The
Halfy happens to do this very well, if you replace the dot
with a little Halfy...
00009: Intelligence.
Because the Halfy is a symbol that represents so many things,
including itself and the tendency to symbolize, it also
represents intelligence. The V is the world, and the dot is
the model we make of it inside our heads. For instance, it
represents the fact that the shape of our perception of the
world isn't always the same as the shape of the world. Just
because we think something is there doesn't mean it is. Just
because every language has a word for "God" doesn't mean one
exBLATTTs: every language invents names for colours in the
same order, but they're all the same kind of thing, it's just
our brains that perceive them differently.
00010: UberSpace.
The V is UberSpace, the dot is the Multiverse we live in.
00011: The Tao/Chao/Cow
Since the Dot appears to be Male and the V Female, as with
most primate symbolBLATT, the balance between the two, which
can be applied to any of the symbols above, in fact, means
the Tao/Chao/Cow, the BALANCE between any pair of symbols
within it. Since the balance itself is one of the symbols,
balance itself suggests balancing it with the opposite,
extremeBLATT, represented, of course, by the dot, while the
V even LOOKS like a balance beam. The Tao insBLATTTs upon
being balanced with its opposite.
00012: Question And Answer
See the Book Of Honest Truth, by Lloyd Taco.
00013: Oppression
The Halfy looks like a large mouth opening up to swallow some
small speck in front of it, just like a big fish about to
eat a little fish. This has always been a symbol of
oppression by the strong over the weak.
00014: Non-Conformity
The two ends of the V in the Halfy represent any two extreme
positions on anything, and the symbol as a whole represents
compromise. As you move towards the middle, the MOTION also
brings you down towards the bottom, the LOWEST common
denominator, if you want. Normalyl any compromise makes you
less happy than you would have been if you'd got your way to
begin with. In fact, if you JUMP to the answer (the dot)
rather than negotiate your way along the most obvious road,
you end up happier. Compromise doesn't mean giving up
anything.
00015: Pac Man
Well, it DOES look like Pac Man, doesn't it?
00016: GNU Beginnings
If you start from a beginning at the bottom, and move away
from it towards the "ends" you get a great variety of neat
branches and things, but nothing GNU. The Dot signifies a
GNU beginning point. Drawing parallels between this and the
"Discordian/SubGenius" meaning of the dot is unwarranted.
00017: Mythical Beasts
It looks like a kind of bird-cyclops, doesn't it? Like a
big beak and one lone eye? This nasty beast is the Glare
Hawk, and should be avoided at all costs. If you see one in
your dreams, you must perform the ExorcBLATT ceremony. For
more information, look elsewhere in the Book of MOO. It
is not the same as the bird that helped Baby-Lon of Atlantis.
00018: Eye Of Horus
If you turn the Halfy upside down, you are left with a small
circle inside a triangle, like the eye-in-pyramid design,
called the Eye of Horus. It represents the Third Eye, the
self-watching universe, self-awareness, enlightenment, and
a whole bunch of other stuff.
00019: Church Shape
The Halfy is the proper shape of all MOOist temples and
churches. Any temple not in this shape doesn't look like
a bit Halfy from above. This may result in not looking
like a big V with a dot in it to all people who might
happen to be scoping out churches from a helicopter.
00020: Mountain Chalet
It looks like the sides of two steep mountains, covered in
snow, majestically soaring to surround the setting sun, the
vBLATTTa YOU will see from your room at Chalet MOO nestled
cozily in the Swiss Alps, where you can enjoy, for only a
pittance of [INSERT YOUR LIFE SAVINGS HERE] per night, all
the comforts of our luxurious mineral springs, skiing, and
other wonders of nature...
Umm. Sorry. That sentence didn't belong there.
00021: The Letter M
It is a runic letter M, and is HALF (Halfy) of a Roman letter
M. This is the first letter, of course, in MOO, and in
MUFFIN, though MUFFINs have nothing to do with MOO, except
that they both start with the same letter, being the 13th
letter of the alphabet. Which is interesting in itself, as
*23* people killed Julius Caesar, and 13 Jesus ChrBLATTT, who
both had the same initials. Neat, huh?
00022: Hand Signs
The Halfy is easily identifiable in hand-signs which have
been around for many years. It is present in the "victory"
sign, the "peace, man" sign, and the "Live Long And Prosper"
sign. The dot is invisible only in those humans without
partially invisible sixth fingers, which is most of them
except the true Atlantean Adept.
00023: Gullibility
Since none of those symbols were THERE when we picked the
symbol of MOO, gullibility stands for all those who were
willing to believe in them. The same is true of the world.
It isn't anything until you start believing things about it.
Honest. And if you belive that, I have a bridge to sell
you.
Chapter Eighteen
Euclidian 2-D Tesselations
Square: Simplest, most obvious
Triangle: A little awkward, but still straighforward
Hexagonal: Very efficient, but hard to draw
Square And Octagon: Very tricky, but interesting
Fullerian 3-D Tesselations
Cubical: Simplest, most obvious
Octet Truss: A little awkward, but still
straightforward
WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?
Chapter Nineteen
Q: What food is more nutritious than any meat or vegetable, richer
in vitamins than almost any food on earth, easily available in
all inhabited coutries, easier to prepare than any other known
form of sustenance, completely humane to obtain, and yet
completely unavailable in any of the so-called "rational and
scientific" Western food stores?
A: Human blood.
Chapter Twenty
Try to be aware of your own motives. When psychiatrBLATTTs
or bitter people analyze them, they can be more objective than you
can about YOU, if not about themselves. So don't dismiss it just
because you don't realize it at once.
Be it penis-envy, desire for attention, or Oedipus complex,
at least acknowledge that it's PARTLY correct.
Chapter Twenty-One
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a great
and magnificent city of incredible size and beauty, and the city
was called Dobbstown. And in that city, everybody was happy,
because the city took care of them, and its computers tried to make
them all as happy as possible and as much of the time as possible.
The people were given things to do, so they were never bored.
They were given games and to play, so they were never lazy. Those
who wanted to work for their pleasure were allowed to, but in a few
generations, nobody really felt like it. The city's computers and
robots made imaginary people to curse at if anybody ever got angry,
but nobody ever did, because they were always happy. And nobody
was ever bitter that the computers were smarter than they were, and
that the robots did everything better than them, because that was
just the way things were.
The robots explored the star system of the city, and the
people who wanted to went with them. But most were happy watching
from afar, or imagining they were out there, when they were safely
in the city itself.
And the people lived for many millions of years, totally
content, the city protecting them, and keeping them happy, and
stopping them from becoming lazy and stupid. They were the most
beautiful and intelligent and enlightened race the galaxy had ever
seen, and those who had left with the robots in the early days were
not nearly so beautiful, because they had started WORKING FOR
NOTHING and the ones on the planet were puzzled.
Until one day their star blew up and they were all killed.
Except the ugly ones who worked in the sky, who escaped to
a planet called Gloop, and their children were as industrious as
they were, and eventually discovered more amazing science than the
robots had ever done, until they invented the most amazing source
of energy the universe has ever seen, from which they intended to
power the biggest beacon in the galaxy, pointing the way to wisdom
and joy to all life forms within millions of light years. Only it
blew up and killed them all.
And the only ones who survived were the cockroaches.
Tough.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Bucky Fuller has mentioned lots of things in his day, but
one of the most interesting is that IQ is determined by the age of
17. He pointed out that a guy called Ben Bloom worked out a system
that, if you give him all the details about a person's family life
before 17, he can determine their IQ to within 1%. He pointed
out that 50% is determined by the age of 4, 80% by the age of 8,
92% by the age of 13, and 100% by 17. He said that even though
nothing can be done after that to improve IQ, billions of dollars
are spend on education for over 17, and hardly any for under 4.
Sorta true.
In fact, fifth circuit opening lets you expand your IQ at
any age at all, and even live forever.
Chapter Twenty-Three
SMIILE: Space Migration, Intelligence Increase, Life
Extension.
RICH: Rising Incomes through Cybernetic Homeostasis
HEAD: Hedonic Engineering And Development
SMIILE
Migration of a race to space eliminates problems of crowding,
industrial pollution, lack of arable land, and limitations on the
resources available for machinery.
Increase of intelligence eliminates problems of chronic
stupidity, human error, mismanagement, deliberate sabotage, war,
and disaster through failure to communicate.
Extending human lifespan eliminates problems of death,
sadness, loss of information, failure to learn from past mistakes,
and burdensome senile old folks.
RICH
Replacing human workers with intelligent machines and robot
labour solves problems of unemployment, poverty, shoddy work,
limited production, effective mental slavery, poor education, and
industrial accidents causing death.
HEAD
Opening a fifth-circuit function on a social level to use the
human brain for fun and profit eliminates problems of stupidity,
unhappiness, anger, greed, intolerance, bigotry, mental slavery,
disease, and government.
Da Book of We Aaron-Oying
(By I Yemen-Oying, his cousin)
Chapter/Section/Part/whatever 1
Right?
(They're wrong. All wrong. Dead wrong. All dead wrong.)
(We're right. Don't listen to THEM.)
1: In case you missed it: We're right, they're not. Understand?
2: Good.
Chapter/part/section/whatever 2
Idiots....
(Are YOU like Trevor?)
Wunn: Ae hayt shyte noogies
tu: Ae think yur oll shyte noogies if yur reeeding disse shyte
booke.
Fr: Duh.
faiV: yu shyte cowz. yu shudde bee chot bia fyrinsquod.
Sox: eevn am betttr than yur.
sven: ae laik beeff tho.
{this is a good place for Confuse-Ius to interrupt}
Confuse-COW-Ius: 'Tis NOT!
aet: dfuh. duh. duh. aim confyoozed.
nan: hooiz dis shytte confyoozyus/
10: THIS IS WHAT WE MEAN BY A PAIN.
lven: aw, phoqyoo, yu shytee noogie.
duh: what cumzaftr lven?
Chapter/Section/Part/Whatever 4
The Truth.
0: There is NO GOD BUT QUACK!
«: Everyone worship QUACK!
1: Pass the butter if they ask for it.
1«: We mean it, too. Do you?
2: Just say QUACK!
2¬: Because it's a nice thing to say. Quack.
2«: People are people too.
4: Evil people.
4: You know who you are. Stop it. Don't be a PAIN. (cf chapter 2)
4«: There are no reasons. Only raisins.
4«: And grapes. But raisins are only dried grapes.
4ý: Reasons are dried gropes. But there are no reasons.
4ý: Because you can't dry gropes.
Chapter/part/section/whatever 5
Feedback.
1: We said so.
2: So?
4: We're listening. Say something!
5: We mean it. Say something! Anything!
6: Fine. Don't. Be non-cooperative. It's on your own head!
7: NO, REALLY. It's on your head. So Don't look up.
8: Quack.
9: Please think about this.
Chapter/part/suction/cup 6
Warrantee!
00001: This is the Book of MOO.
00002: Don't expect too much.
skip a few: <blank>
00099: However, it is guaranteed to weigh at least 6 pounds.
00100: If yer dumb enough to print it.
00101: The book of MOO is backed by a satisfaction guarantee.
00178: If you are dissatisfied with it, send it back. We'll refund
you.
Confuse-Ius Say: No, we won't. HA! Fooled you!
Chapter/part/section/whatever 7
Hence
infinity: Amen.
MOO
OMM
BOOK OF THE RITUAL STUFF
Major Rituals
These rituals are to be performed at MOOfests, warships... uh,
WORSHIPS (well, warships will do as well) or whenever you feel like
it. Or not, if you don't want to, though failure to comply will
result in not having fun, and Floyd not giving you any mints unless
he's feeling generous.
1) Communion Ritual
MOOists shall commune with the Grate MOO by the sitting around
of bonfires, leaping from tree to tree, and generally behaving
stupidly in order to attract Her attention. HAIL ERIS!
2) The Gun-A-Jump Ritual
This is most effective in large groups. You stand at the FOOT
(bottom) of a large building in a group, and shout: "I'm gonna
jump! I'm gonna jump!" A person planeted on a ledge above will
shout down: "Don't do it! Don't do it!" Continue until bored, or
arrested for being a pain.
3) The Muk-Funna-MOO Ritual
In this ritual, you simply make fun of MOOism in a
non-pain-in-the-ass way. Also included as a subgroup of this
ritual are making fun of any other thing that occurs to you, such
as any of the major heresies, the Civil Service, or popular cartoon
characters.
4) The Sey-MOO Ritual
This is the simplest of all the rituals, as it involves merely
saying MOO as loud as you can manage, or as you feel like at that
time.
5) The Bal-Oon Ritual
First shalt thou fill the Holy Balloons with the Holy
Hydrogen.
Then shalt thou fill some other Holy Balloons with the Holy Water.
Then tiest thou the balloons together, and attatch the Holy Fuse.
Then light the Holy Fuse, and letest thou go of the balloons.
6) The Ho-Lee-Kow Ritual
First find yerself a cow. This is the Holy Cow for this
ritual. Then ya MOO at the cow for a while until it replies in
kind. Then say "Holy Cow!". If the cow should relieve itself on
the ground during the ritual, say "Holy Shit!"
7) The Ho-Ke-Po-Kay
You put your right foot in, you put your right foot out.
You put your right foot in, and you shake it all about.
You do the Hokey-Pokey and turn it all around.
That's what it's all about.
8) The Noe-Mick Ritual
Play the game of Nomic, as described in one of those
appendices there. Attempt to make the game as SILLY as possible.
Variations of this ritual may include the other official games of
MOO.
9) The Pree-Ching Ritual
First, ye stand on a holy soapbox, and gather thee around
thyself a whole load of pre-converted MOOists, and then shall ye
speak unto the crowd around ye, and ye shall say unto them things
like "Yo, man, convert to my nifty cult!" and "If it worked for
them, it can work for you!" and other such things, and rant and
rave and speak in strange Tongues.
10) The Joho Ritual
First, find a building in which live Jehovah's Witnesses,
then go up and ring the doorbell. When they answer, barge in,
claim to be a Jehovah's Witness, ignore any protests that they
already are, and preach at them for an hour or more trying to
convert them.
11) The Geo-Desk Ritual
Thou shalt build unto you a whole buncha stuff outta
toothpicks using proper Fullerian designs. Octet Truss design is
the best and most stable, using equilateral triangles for the load
distribution, but icos-octahedron ones are WIERD to look at, and
also use equilateral triangles. Avoid squares if you can help it,
on account of they have an extra dimension of freedom to collapse
on the load and destroy themselves. Minor Rituals (Ritz Bitz)
These are intended to be done alone, or at least individually. Of
course, they probably won't end up that way, but what the hell, eh?
For this reason, they have no names. Aww...
1) Speak in Pig Latin. (First sound goes to the end of the word,
and is followed by an "ay" sound.)
2) Ytray otay onfusecay eoplepay ithway onsensenay. Uchsay asay
ymay ignsay ichwhay ayssay "Easeplay oday otnay arkpay noay Isthay
allway"
3) Have as much fun as possible, so as to increase the total amount
of fun in the world. PLEASE notice that this ritual should be
followed with care. It is important to increase the TOTAL amount
as well as your own. I.e. Don't be a pain. At least, not TOO much
of a pain, anyway.
4) Hop up and down on one of your legs (you may switch part way
through), flap your hands like a bird, and make goose-like
squawking noises, occasionally MOOing for emphasis.
5) Eat salad. Comment on its flavour, composition, texture, moral
rectitude, and anything else that seems commentable.
MOO
OMM
BOOK OF CERMONIES
Hereinwritten are the cermonies of the Holy Church Of The Great
MOO as they now stand. All these ceremonies are to be performed by
the member which they specify, and at the times and occasions
specified. The exact wording may be changed if it's really
important, but ALWAYS shalt thou basically stick to that kind of
thing, okay?
When it says High Preest or Great Prophet, the script shall use
the High Preest, because the Great Prophet will eventually die, and
cannot be replaced, while the High Preest can. These ceremonies
MAY be performed by conference call on a telephone, unless they
require physical contact. Preests or Prophets or generally anyone
can perform 'em.
WEDDINGS OF THE HOLY CHURCH OF THE GREAT MOO
Weddings of MOO are semantic exercises, with no more real
effect than weddings of other religions. They join "As One" two or
more people, who generally have some kind of affection for each
other. Weddings of the Church of MOO are to be conducted by the
Grate Prophet ONLY, but since they aren't even a teensy weensy bit
binding, this hardly matters.
Any arrangement of partners which can be thought of can be
married. Marriages can be one-way, between large groups of people
and NO subsets (or only specific ones), between the same sex or
opposite sex, or indeed anything else you could possibly think of.
The people united in a MOO marriage are joined as one in the eyes
of the Grate MOO. But, since they're not joined in her nose, the
marriage is almost totally pointless.
Needless to say, strict monogamy is almost out of the
question. Unless you don't want it to be. Whatever. Big whoop.
Modifications shall be made to suit the arrangements decided on.
Where it says "Groom" and "Bride", the names of the participants
should be used.
Grate Prophet: This is a wedding, so shut up. Groom!
Groom: Yes?
Grate Prophet: Do you love her?
Groom: Yeah.
Grate Prophet: Bride!
Bride: Yes?
Grate Prophet: Do you love him?
Bride: Yeah.
Grate Prophet: You're married. Dibs on the cheese dip.
Assembly adjourns for refreshments, including cheese dip or
something
INITIATIONS INTO THE HOLY CHURCH OF THE GREAT MOO
When a person is to be initiated into the Holy Church Of The
Great MOO, that person must be willing to commit his or her life to
the Church and what it stands for. They don't have to actually do
it, but they must be willing. This ceremony is also performed by
a Preest or the Prophet, or anyone of a rank higher than Inner
CirclBLATTT.
This ceremony is one of the most solemn occasions in the Holy
Church of the Great MOO. Well... Yeah, just about. The ceremony
is as follows, although it's almost always dispensed with nowadays,
unless someone feels like it.
Preest: We are gathered here to induct into our ranks a GNU
acolyte. Hand over the Holy Rubber Chicken.
Acolyte hands the Rubber Chicken Over
Preest: Young acolyte. Do you hereby pledge that you're gonna be
a faithful MOOist?
New Acolyte: MOO!
Preest: Good enough. Right, then fill out this application form,
will ya? Thanks.
Preest hands over the Holy Application Form
New Acolyte fills out the Holy Application Form
Preest: Done yet?
New Acolyte: Not quite.
Preest: Well hurry up, will you?
New Acolyte: Don't rush me...
Preest: La dee da...
Preest taps left foot impatiently
Preest: Done yet?
New Acolyte: Yup.
Preest: Give me the form.
New Acolyte gives Preest the form
Preest: Hmmm... I guess so. Kneel on your left knee. Acolyte
Kneels on left knee
Preest: I didn't say "Simon says"!
New Acolyte: ACK!
New Acolyte stands up again.
Preest: Now let's try that again. Simon says kneel on your left
knee.
Acolyte kneels on left knee
Preest: You didn't say "mother may I"!
New Acolyte: ACK!
New Acolyte stands up again
Preest: Now let's try this ONE MORE TIME. Simon says kneel on
your left knee.
New Acolyte: Mother may I kneel on my left knee?
Preest: That's better. Yes you may.
New Acolyte kneels on left knee.
Preest: Now, with this Chicken, I dub thee Silly Twit of the Holy
Church of the Great MOO
Preest bashes GNU Acolyte with the rubber chicken
New Acolyte: Thanks a heap.
Preest: Ahem.
New Acolyte: What? Oh... right... MOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
New Acolyte performs Minor Ritual number four
Preest: Hand forth the Holy Seltzer Bottle.
Acolyte hands over Holy Seltzer Bottle (or water glass)
Preest throws water or sprays seltzer in GNU acolyte's face GNU
Acolyte: Thanks. I needed that.
Preest: This ceremony is adjourned. Dibs on the guacamole.
Ceremony adjourns to refreshments with guacamole or other avocado
products.
PROMOTION TO THE OUTER CIRCLE OF THE HOLY CHURCH OF THE GREAT MOO
Simmons is played by any Outer CirclBLATTT of MOO, Simon is
played by an Inner CirclBLATTT, and Mother is played by any Inner
CirclBLATTT of MOO. The ceremony is performed, as usual, by anyone
of high enough rank, and goes as follows:
Preest: Acolyte!
Acolyte: Yup?
Preest: Simon says kneel on your left knee.
Acolyte: Yeah, right.
Preest: No, really.
Acolyte: Show me this Simon, then, oh Preest-Person of the Great
MOO, you silly person.
Preest: SUMMON SIMON, SIMMONS!
Simmons: Yes, oh High And Mighty Preest of the Holy Church of the
Great MOO, [begins to lBLATTT titles of performer]
Preest: Get on with it!
Simmons: Sorry.
Simmons fetches Simon
Preest: Are you Simon?
Simon: Yes, oh High And Mighty...
Preest: Shut up. Okay. Tell this scum to kneel on her [his] left
knee.
Simon: Kneel on your left knee, scum.
Acolyte: Mother may I kneel on my left knee?
Preest: Yes, you may.
Acolyte: You aren't Mother!
Preest: Simmons, get Mother, would you?
Simmons: Yes, oh High...
Preest: Just DO it, would you?
Simmons: Okay, okay.
Simmons fetches Mother
Preest: Are you Mother?
Mother: You didn't say Mother May I!
Preest: Mother may I ask you who you are?
Mother: You may.
Preest: Are you Mother?
Mother: I am.
Preest: Good. Acolyte, you may proceed.
Acolyte: Mother may I kneel on my left knee?
Mother: You may.
Acolyte kneels on his [her] left knee.
Preest: Hand forth the Holy Rubber Chicken.
Other Acolyte hands over the rubber chicken.
Preest: Hand forth his [her] application form.
Other Acolyte hands forth Acolyte's application form.
Preest: Hmm... Well, okay. With this chicken, I dub thee...
Acolyte: Hang on.
Preest: What!?
Acolyte: You forgot to say Mother May I!
Preest: Oh all right. Mother, may I brain her [him] with a rubber
chicken?
Mother: Sure thing.
Preest: With this chicken, I dub thee Outer CirclBLATTT of the
Holy Church Of The Great MOO.
Preest bashes Acolyte with Rubber Chicken
Acolyte Officially Becomes Outer CirclBLATTT
Outer CirclBLATTT: MOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!
Outer CirclBLATTT performs minor ritual number four
Preest: Hand forth the Holy Cream Pie!
Acolyte hands over Holy Cream Pie
High Preest throws Holy Cream Pie in Outer CirclBLATTT's face
Outer CirclBLATTT: Thanks a heap.
Preest: This ceremony is adjourned. Dips on the onion dip.
Ceremony adjourns to refreshments with onion dip.
PROMOTION TO INNER CIRCLE OF THE HOLY CHURCH OF THE GREAT MOO
Basically the same applies as with the Promotion to the Outer
Circle of The Holy Church Of The Great MOO. The Applicant must be
an Outer CirclBLATTT of the Holy Church Of MOO, obviously.
Preest: By this time, oh applicant, you've progressed far enough
to know why we don't need a ceremony for this level. Besides
which, it's tedious.
Applicant: Huh?
Preest: Look, do you understand what the difference was between
the ceremony when you became an Acolyte and when you became an
Outer CirclBLATTT?
Applicant: Uh, yeah.
Preest: And you know why?
Applicant: Uh, yeah.
Preest: Good. Give me the Application Form.
Acolyte hands over the Application Form
Preest: Seems fine. Hand over the Holy Rubber Chicken.
Acolyte hands over the Holy Rubber Chicken
Preest: Any questions?
Applicant: No
Preest: Good. Let's get this sucker over with. With this here
chicken I dub thee Inner CirclBLATTT of The Holy Church Of The
Great MOO.
Preest bashes Applicant with chicken
Applicant becomes Inner CirclBLATTT
Applicant: MOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Applicant performs Minor Ritual number four
Preest: Hand over the Holy Nose Glasses.
Acolyte hands over the Holy Nose Glasses
Preest: Here. Put these on.
Applicant puts on Holy Nose Glasses and stops minor ritual number
four
Preest: This ceremony is adjourned. Dibs on the bean dip.
Ceremony adjourns to refreshments with bean dip.
EXORCBLATTS OF THE HOLY CHURCH OF THE GREAT MOO
In some cases, priests or teachers of MOOism or of the
Penguin Temple may find that they encounter evil spirits (wandering
souls that can't find a cheap hotel) or manifestations of the Evil
One. In such cases, any member of the Church Of MOO is permitted
to perform an exorcBLATT, and the highest member available should
be the one to perform the duty. The ceremony goes a bit like this:
ExorcBLATTT: ZI DINGIR ETCETERA ETCETERA
Translator: Begone, vermin of Bung
ExorcBLATTT: ZINGI DUNGA AD INFINITUM
Translator: Evil Spirits, here, take a couple of bucks and go find
a decent hotel!
ExorcBLATTT: SHADASH MASHUDAH MOO MOO MOO
Translator: SHADASH MASHUDAH MOO MOO Etcetera etcetera...
ExorcBLATTT: Begone Foul Demons Of Dirty Telephones
Translator: That was my line!
ExorcBLATTT: WUNGA WUNGA WUNGA!
Translator: Spirits of the Sky, remember the invocation of the old
days of the Great MOO and the Primordial Penguin, an
awesome invocation of Tundra and Fire!
ExorcBLATTT: Did I really say all that?
Translator: Yes.
ExorcBLATTT: WOW WOW WOW!
Translator: Live Long And Prosper!
ExorcBLATTT: SZILLY SZILLY SZILLY!
Translator: Or, if you're already dead, do something equivalent!
EcorcBLATTT: G'WAN G'WAY G'DADDA HERE!
Translator: Pester us no more, foul demons and slaves of the Bung,
who has lived on the Earth since the beginning times,
when clocks were but stupid old wooden things!
ExorcBLATTT: DROPPA DEAD! MUNGA MOO! DROPPA DEAD!
Translator: Evil Things, Nasty Spirits, take these coins an
begone!
[Translator throws a little money in the air]
ExorcBLATTT: GIMME GIMME GIMME!
Translator: Spirits! Relinquish holds on the material world!
ExorcBLATTT: FUH-FUH-FUH-FUH-FUH-QOPF!
Translator: Begone!
Adjourn to festivities with grape soda.
BAPTBLATTS OF THE HOLY CHURCH OF THE GREAT MOO
MOOists don't believe in baptBLATTs. This ceremony is
designed to show that fact to the MOOist parents of a child, and
emphasize the right to the child of choosing his or her own
religion. It may be performed by any MOOist of higher than the
Outer Circle.
Performer: Hey, kid. Wanna be a MOOist?
Baby: ...
Performer: Sorry. No can do. Here.
Performer gives baby back to parents
SNOWBLOWER RITUAL
This is the ritual alluded to in the Snowblower Myth by I
Yemen-Oying. It is used to summon the Second Satanic Snowblower
Brigade, and should only be used under DIRE provocation, or if you
REALLY, REALLY, *REALLY* want to.
00001: Draw a pentacle on the ground in black chalk to satisfy the
Law Of Fives. Preferably indoors, so the demons don't scare
people passing by when they appear.
00002: On each corner, place a snowball made of black snow. Black
Snow can be obtained anywhere in Canada in winter by the side
of a busy road, as any Canadian will tell you.
00003: In the middle of the pentacle, place a snowshovel.
00004: Chant the magic words "IO SNOWSHOVEL! IO IO SNOWSHOVEL!
IO SNOWSHOVEL SNOWSHOVEL! YO! YO! SNOWSHOVEL! HEY
STUPIDS!"
00005: Duck. Fast.
SPECIAL ENLIGHTENMENT EXERCISES
These are exercises that you can do at any time, or all the
time unlike rituals or ceremonies of the normal kind... There are
some mantas here, and some special mental press-ups.
00001: Press ups.
00002: Mantras (see below).
00003: Ritual Self-Mutilations.
00004: Thought modification (see below).
00005: Iron Man Decathalon.
Mantras
First, a definition of a Mantra. This is NOT one of those
nasty sea creatures that looks like a doormat. That's a MANTA. A
mantra is a phrase or word that you repeat to yourself in order to
meditate, or otherwise gain enlightenment. Mantas are not good for
this, and attempting to repeat a manta may result in serious lung
cancer, birth defects in pregnant women (in case you give birth to
a pregnant woman), or spontaneous human combustion in hyenas.
These mantras are for people wanting to enter the Outer
Circle of MOO (aptly called the Doubter Circle).
Here are some Mantras to help you.
00001: When you hear, read, say, or think anything, repeat the
following to yourself:
"It's a LIE! A DAMCOWNED LIE! ALL OF IT."
Repeat for a week or so, as often as possible.
00002: Whenever you hear, read, write, say, think, or
telepathically receive any word such as "True", "Fact",
"Real", or anything else like that, put imaginary quote
marks around it.
00003: Constantly repeat, in your head, "How do I KNOW that?" You
can actually THINK about this one.
00004: Say over and over, while meditating, "MANTRAS ARE STUPID,
MANTRAS ARE STUPID, MANTAS ARE STUPID, MANTRAS ARE STUPID"
and so forth and so on.
00005: "There is no truth. Everything is true."
Thought Modification
This isn't a sea creature either, but since it's not likely
to be mistaken for one, unless the observer is drunk, it's night,
or it's wearing a good costume, I won't mention that fact here.
Thought modification exercises are for people who want to
join the Inner Circle of MOO (ineptly called the Dinner Circle).
By the time you understand these, you'll be ready to use
them. By the time you finish with them, you'll already be an Inner
CirclBLATTT, so you can keep doing them anyway.
00001: Think of everything I've ever taught you. Then think:
"Maybe not."
00002: Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb. Mary
had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow. Mary had
a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb, and everywhere
that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go.
00003: Don't see the fnord. Don't see the fnord. If you don't
see the fnord, it can't eat you. Don't see the fnord. The
only good fnord is a dead fnord. Don't see the fnord.
00004: Fnord.
00005: You didn't see that. DON'T SEE THE DAMN FNORD ALREADY!
Lost And Found
Organized By Confuse-Ius
This unregistered section of the Schnook of GLUE is intended
to help you, the user of this annoying mind drug, find your way
about the universe less easily.
Lost: One really pair of really big, really gold, really big
lost really gold really really and big, really lost, really
mittens. If really found, really really return to really High
really Preestess really Indoctrinate-Me.
Missing: One-half sanity, answers to "Leonard", partly bald.
Write Half-Mad at 666, Celestial Suite.
Found: One paradise, good condition, monogrammed "J.M.",
found in bus shelter underneath a pile of hopes.
Lost: oNe mINd. PuRPLe bAnAnAs go ROUnD aNd roUNd...
Found: v. (1) To lay the base or structure of (as a
building, a town); to set, fix, or build on a firm ground.
Lost: Large invisible gorilla. Approximately two meters
tall, light grey fur, three eyes, likes to throw intangible temper
tantrums when denied access to nonexistent fruit bats.
Found: Lare invisible gorilla. Approximately two meters
tall, light grey fur, three eyes, threw intangible temper tantrum
for no apparent reason while passing nonexistent fruit bat store.
Missing: Sense of humour, answers to "Brian", three
centimeters long, slighly fuzzy.
Lost: One apartment, 2 bedroom, 1 bath, reasonable rates,
with a view. Last seen, 7th floor of Scraper Building, wielding
large butcher's cleaver.
Found: North Atlantic Salmon Spawning Ground, slightly
dented, greenish tinted, second hand.
Lost: One really pair of really big, really gold, really big
lost really gold really really and big, really lost, really
mittens. If really found, really really return to really High
really Preestess really Indoctrinate-Me.
MOO
OMM
BOOK OF REAL SECRET SECRETS
The Inner Secrets Of MOO
Which Are Not At All Satirizing Anything
Not Even A Little Bit
As Written By High Preest Floyd Gecko
Section One: What We Stand For
MOOism, as stated earlier in the Great Book of MOO, stands for
many things. Many of these things are such taboo or unaccepted
practices as cannibalBLATT, necrophilia, free sex, or anarchy (or
even such recently shunned ideas as bureaucracy). And yet, some
may be surprised to find in there as well, feminBLATT,
environmentalBLATT, love, and peace. Why could this be, asks the
puzzled initiate.
We only chose these taboos or unaccepted ideas as a sample of
the things which we support. We accept the right of the individual
to do any of the things that he or she wants to do. Those of us,
who are taken from all levels of initiation, from High Preest, to
mere Acolyte, who have fathomed the Inner Secrets of Nature, belong
to a secret Cabal of people with this knowledge, many of us not
even known to each other. We have found the true secrets of being,
and I wish, as the only one of such known to myself at this time,
to set down what I personally have fathomed to be the true nature
of reality. This will help enlighten you, and make me feel
superior. HAHAHA!
First, in this section, What We Stand For, I must describe our
seemingly arbitrary morality. Yep. That's what I must do. It is
my mission. My, shall we say, raisin debtor.
Morality, I have decided, is a highly arbitrary thing, by
nature, and is purely the construct of the human mind. That's what
I've decided. Yes, I've decided that, indeed, there can be no
fundamental morality of nature, because nature herself betrays no
respect for what humans call morality.
It has been called sick and immoral to eat dead human beings,
and yet animals of nature eat their own species very often.
Insects, mammals, birds, or lizards, there is no exception in
general. If, indeed, such was against the laws of nature, then
surely it would never happen. It may be said that God created
morals for us to rise above the animal kingdom, but in truth, as I
will later show, God is a partial and purely mental construct, and
not an external being. An' that's the truth.
In addition, how can we define an action to judge it for its
so called morality? If indeed, we are high-order patterns of atoms
and fields in space, as some would have us believe, then, as our
atoms are constantly replenished, and our bodies renewed, no person
is the same from one day to the next. If we choose to define a
person as the pattern in which these atoms are arranged, this is
even worse, for the pattern changes from second to second as the
atoms move. They move so fast, even, that the pattern has changed
on one side of the body before the other side has learned of what
it was before the change. There is no simultaneity in the pattern,
and it is less constant than the matter. If we are never the same
person from second to second, then how can we be said to commit any
action, let alone a sin?
Morality is a concept designed to be effective on a large
scale to people, but if people cannot be accurately pinned down as
being one specific thing, how can we say that this person here, or
that person there, committed a sin yesterday, when that person,
that pattern of those specific atoms, didn't even exBLATTT
yesterday?
So, by standing for this freedom to be or do whatever you
wish, including oppress other people, we are admitting this fact,
that people do not, in fact, exBLATTT, and what they do is of no
consequence.
So you see, while we would support you in your efforts to do
whatever you want, those of us who are truly enlightened in this
one truth would question whether it makes a difference. If you are
one of the enlightened ones, you will admit that whether or not you
are able or allowed to do what you wish makes little difference at
all. Indeed, it is a matter that's difficult to define, as I will
describe now. Yup.
Section Two: What Is Real?
Consider the problem of what is real (or don't, if you
prefer). All we know of what we so flippantly call reality is
what our senses tell us. And we cannot say what the senses of
other people tell them, because all we have to go on is what they
tell us, through our senses. Even in the case of a so called
telepath, this is merely another sense which may be fooled.
If we consider the construction of the human brain, an object
of, or so we perceive, immensely complex interactions, the
likelihood that any two such would be able to interact in exactly
the same way with the same thing, to the detail of having exactly
identical perceptions, is highly unlikely. The idea that I see the
same thing when I look at something that we call "blue" as you see
when you look at the same thing, is almost absurd. Surely, we
cannot have exactly the same experience of it, since my mind is
different from yours, and my brain is different from your brain.
Similarly, consider the question of the cheese. (Consider the
cheese of the fields... It works not, neither does it toil...)
We can say of a hunk of cheese that it has certain qualities.
That it is, for instance, solid, yellowish, has a certain odour,
and tastes in a certain way. But where does this property lie?
It cannot lie in the cheese, because different people have
very different perceptions of the cheese, even to the point of
describing it in a different way. Some might like the taste of the
cheese, while some might not. Some might give a different name to
the colour of the cheese than others. So the properties of what we
percieve cannot lie in that hunk of cheese.
And yet, they can hardly be said to lie in the observer, not
only because the observer, as I have stated, does not exBLATTT as
a definable entity, but also because, even in our minds, we don't
experience the same things when the cheese isn't there.
So the only conclusion is that the properties must lie in the
state of union of both the observer and the hunk of cheese. Only
when the two are together do those particular set of perceptions
exBLATTT. The same is true of the world. Its properties, which
are what define it's exBLATTTence, can only exBLATTT in the merging
of whatever is actually out there with a mind that can experience
it. And yet, these minds are part of the world.
When we define the entire universe of everything, we think of
it in two sections: Me, and Not-Me. So, with this dichotomy,
ignoring the fact that "Me" is undefinable, and is constantly
replenished with the atoms of the "Not-me", we construct two sides
of reality.
And yet, each "Me" is part of everyone else's "Not-Me". The
people who inhabit the world are part of the world, by the
consensus of the majority. So the union of these people with the
rest of the world which creates the properties of the world, and
thereby makes the world what it is, is already acomplished. Each
of these minds is a part of the world around it. All is One, as
the mystics say. Indeed, those who study "advanced" mathematics,
set theory, discover that All is indeed One. Trust me.
It is impossible for any part of the whole to understand the
full whole, since that would involve fully understanding itself,
and everything else. The One is Unknowable. All things may, in
Set Theory, be expressed as patterns of other patterns, sets of
sets, which all boil down to patterns of nothing. All numbers, in
mathematics, can be seen as groups of nothings.
In physics also, we perceive that all things are groups of
other things, which are groups of other things, all the way down to
groups of nothings, vibrating bits of empty space.
Yak. Oh well.
On the other hand, all things affect all other things.
Merely by exBLATTTing, they affect other things across all of
space. In Set Theory, all sets are members of the Set Of All Sets.
They affect each other merely by exBLATTTing in the same set. In
fact, since physics and math intersect at this point, where reality
is made of groups of groups of nothings, and Sets are made of Sets
of Sets of Nothing, we can say that reality is like an "Infinite
Set". That is the truth, in the only sense that truth can be
understood.
All things are right with us, right next to us, the All
affects us directly. When I say the All, I mean everything.
Everything that is real, and everything that isn't real.
Everything possible and every impossible thing. Mystics call this
the Mindscape, or Superspace, in which exBLATTT all thoughts, or
things. This is the home of what are known as Platonic Forms, the
essence of things. What is it that makes a chair as chair? The
Platonic Chair. The one thing which is all chairs. This is a
subset of the Infinite Set.
All is One.
The One is Unknowable.
The One is Right Here.
Nothing Is Real. (Nothing to get hung about...)
Everything Is Real.
Everything is real in that everything, "real" or not,
exBLATTTs in the Infinite Set. Nothing is real in that nothing is
more real than any other thing, and some impossible things are just
as real as the world that we imagine. All of our perceptions, all
of what we call the "universe of space and time" exBLATTTs in this
Infinite Set, and is just as real as the Platonic Teddy Bear. And
just as false. And all that stuff. It's all true.
Section Three: Truth
For a moment, I will speak to those with a training in
physics.
Since the mind shapes the perceptions of the ongoing
experiment that continually collapses the quantum wave, it shapes
the world around it, merely by observing. For example. If enough
minds believed that the world is flat, then by observing only those
experiments which would confirm that idea, they allow the creation
of spontaneous Virtual Pairs of matter and antimatter, which are a
form of energy, and therefore mass. Mass denotes a shape of
spacetime dBLATTTortion, and changes the shape of space.
By changing the shape of space, it alters the nature of
geometry inside the area, which can dBLATTTort the Earth into a
flat shape, if that is the shape it must be. If it is believed,
then it is true. Ayup. I mean it.
If you are inside a jail, this is also a fact. The space
which supposedly contains you inside, if bent, would show that you
are outside, topologically speaking. And so, nothing can ever be
inside a box with holes. This is clearly true, if it is believed
by enough people.
If you are inside a box without holes, consider this. You
are inside a cube, perhaps, with six sides. How much "holding
power" does a single side have? It has none, since you can
walkaround it easily. There are six sides with no holding power,
and six times nothing is nothing. The box cannot hold you. Which
is nice to know if you're in Solitary, but of little PRACTICAL
value. But at any rate...
The illusion of containment is false. The illusion of one
thing holding another thing inside is false, because there is only
one thing, the All, the One. There can be no property without an
observer, and the One has no observer but itself.
This is not only true of space, but also of the SuperSpace.
The mind can change this on any level. The Soul Level, as I call
it, is the level at which a subsection of the One can interact with
the whole.
Logically Impossible things have the lowest soul level we
humans can imagine (though there must be infinite levels downwards
from there).
Following this are the nonexBLATTTent things, which do not
exBLATTT, but affect the One all the same, when we think about
them.
Then are the inanimate objects. They merely sit there, and
passively accept what happens to them, but they affect things
around them greatly. These are things like Rocks, Bagels, and Dan
Quayle.
Then comes Life. Life takes an active part in the interplay
of things, and it can do as it wishes, moving here and there,
actively changing the world, but is very stupid. This is such
things as Kelp, Wombats, Spruce Trees, and George Bush.
Then comes Intelligence. By thinking and believing, it can
see the truth, instead of merely being the truth. This includes
most Humans, some Penguins, and Pine Trees.
Then comes a higher level which can alter facts by thinking
about them, like making the Earth flat. This includes most
Penguins, a very few Humans, and Priscilla Presley.
Above Intelligence, comes a level that can change higher
truths than merely the shape of the world, or whether a box can
exBLATTT. This level can alter laws of nature, and fundamental,
obvious, logically deductible truths. This level can change the
sum of 1+1 by thinking it otherwise. This level includes some
Penguins, one or two humans, and Elvis Presley.
And as to reincarnation, all we can say is that the Tundra
can't possibly be limited by time and space, since it's something
separate. A "past" life of yours may not have happened yet. And
indeed, may never happen, for all its reality. The only vaguely
goal-type thing we can set is to attain the high Soul-Level which
I just falsely gave to Elvis Presley.
Above that level, we begin to lose our understanding. The
levels continue up and up forever, infinitely, to all the possible
infinities, and somewhere, there is a level at which the mind may
change the truth of what I am telling you, that can make the levels
nonexBLATTTent, and truth be absolute. But even this is relative,
it seems. So it seems.
Nothing is true.
Everything is true.
If Nothing is True, and Everything is True, then all is
allowed, and deity cannot exBLATTT. Or, uh... Something.
Section Four: Well then...
So, says the Initiate... How can MOOism claim to hold the
truth, that the Great MOO, and the Primordial Penguin, exBLATTT out
of all deities?
The answer is simple. We make no such claim, except to those
who need an absolute truth to begin the path to this enlightenment.
All truths, deities, or ideas are true, false, and meaningless.
This was mentioned in the Principia Discordia, written by
Hellhound's cousin's friend's dog, some billion years before Time
began. More or less. But in fact, ALL ideas, imaginable or
otherwise, are true, no matter what they say.
An attempt to capture this fact in words is a statement, and
as such is true, false, and meaningless. But there is a higher
level, on which this is true. And yet higher levels. The levels
continue unto infinity. But, as the mathematics of infinity has
shown, there are more levels of Infinity than there are of finite
number. No matter how many ways we find of naming more levels of
Infinity, there are always more, that we cannot name, and at the
"Top", is the Absolute Infinite.
The Absolute Infinite is unknowable in the truest sense,
since no matter what you say about it, how you describe it, the
same is true of some lower level of infinity. The Absolute
Infinite is The One, The All. It is Unknowable, and it is Right
Here. This is the "true" God, and what I just said is a whole load
of cock and bull. Or maybe not. Why should you trust ME of all
people?
In fact, this is only a partial truth. The whole truth can
only be learned, not taught, bought, eaten, beaten, thwacked,
defenestrated, or otherwise abused.
All questions of "what happens after death" or "what is the
nature of soul" are meaningless, in some sense, since everything
that you can imagine, as well as everything you can't, is the true
answer to these questions, even answers that have nothing to do
with the question. And all of them are the One True Answer, and
all others are False. And that is the Truth. Maybe. I think...
Besides, Souls are dust from the Tundra. Honest.
Section Five: So?
So, on the whole, we find that all things are relative to all
other things, whether they exBLATTT or not. Truth, reality, and so
forth. On the whole, this is fine, but we have to draw the line
between what we actually experience and what our mysticBLATT tells
us. MOOism is a partial truth, and contains many interesting
ideas, but, really, all that nonsense about replacing BLATT with
BLATT and BLATTT with BLATTT... that's just silly. Uh huh. Ayup.
All that we, like the Discordians, are really, at bottom,
trying to demonstrate, is that things can be silly without being
frivolous. MOO is just as true and valid as ChrBLATTTianity, and
ChrBLATTTianity is just as true and valid as science. Every
religion or system of beliefs is just as ture as any other, and
trying to get rid of it just because your sole individual partial
reality doesn't like it, is a very narrow minded way of looking at
things. And isn't. It's also very tolerant, and therefore evil,
and good, and silly, and half-an-egg. Or something. And pselled
rong.
Confuse-Ius Sez:
"One of MOO's greatest weapons against W.O.M.B.A.T. Systems
Inc. is our capacity for Entropic Causality Time Control. We can
create a situation to reap its benefits, and then decide we don't
like it, and back out, as if it had never happened, except...
Things are a little different. Moved around."
-Book Of Things, Chapter 12, Verse 23
The point is, we take things for all being interesting and
good in their own way. I happen to think that bureaucracy can
produce some wonderfully fascinating systems and interrelating
complexities that are quite simply beautiful, if you ignore the
content and just look at the form. That's why I like Nomic... I
also happen to think that an anarchic apathetic random lot monarchy
is the best political system. So that means (in some sense) that
it's true, and you should all follow me and accept everything I
say (well, it's TRUE isn't it?)...
Further insights into this sort of thing may come from any of
the annoying mind drugs I've suggested for further reading. *Some*
of them are pretty heavy stuff, so consult your physician before
attempting any serious reading, but they're really very interesting
when you get into them. Once again, a reminder that none of the
advice in this section of the Annoying Mind Drug of MOO should be
construed as replacing ordinary clinical advice. Please consult
your local religious leader or barber for information on the true
nature of reality.
Section Six: Truth AGAIN (Yawn)
Truth within the Multiverse is whatever your mind makes it by
your eighth-circuit multiprogramming. So we can say that FOR ANY
GIVEN PERSON, and AT ANY GIVEN TIME, the truth is a fairly fixed
thing, but that it changes from person to person, universe to
universe, time to time. So, for someone, somewhere, in some
universe or multiverse, any given thing must be true, false,
meaningless, true and false, true and meaningless, false and
meaningless, or true false and meaningless.
Truth OUTSIDE the Multiverse is a lot more complicated than
that. If you can't handle this information now, skip this section,
because it isn't really very important anyway.
Truth is defined within the multiverse by the structure of the
multiverse itself (at least relative to me, here, now), because our
minds are part of the multiverse. For instance, although it looks
as if space is three-dimensional to US, it is said that it's
actually ten-dimensional, because of the symmetry-breaking at the
"big-bang" event. Before that, time and space (and as a
consequence, matter and energy) were all sort of symmetric with
each other, so there was no time separate from space. Moving along
the "time" axis there was a symmetry-break, and those dimensions
became separate, with some of them staying symmetric (curled up
really small, like all ten had been, and so not visible) and some
of them expanding, which we now see as space, and ONE of them being
"special", an actual LINE, instead of a circle like the others.
This line is TIME. That is the reason physicBLATTTs had a hard
time incorporating gravity and time into their equations until
superstring theory came along. It's "special". A special case
always follows rules that look different until you have a special
perspective.
It's the same way with the multiverse. In science, you get
lots of expansions of knowledge, with everything you used to know
becoming a special case of what you know now. The multiverse is a
special case of UberSpace. The rules of UberSpace are therefore
incredibly hard for us to understand, if it's even possible.
It's not just more different than we DO understand, it's more
different than we CAN understand. All of our perceptions are based
on living in a world with space and time and matter and energy, and
most important, THINGS that have certain RELATIONSHIPS with each
other. None of this is the same in UberSpace.
If you go into UberSpace, your eighth-circuit programming
won't do fuck-all for you, because that's a relationship between
the pattern of your mind (a resonance of certain MATTER and ENERGY
patterns that moves in SPACE through TIME, with the RELATIONSHIPS
between neurons making THINGS happen which we call thought) and the
pattern of space, time, matter, energy, and the things around you.
Eighth-circuit programming is wonderful, as long as you're in THIS
multiverse. Nothing else is comprehensible. The "Luck Plane", or
"Karma" or "Synchronicity" all flies STRAIGHT OUT THE FUCKING
WINDOW when you talk about UberSpace.
UberSpace bears NO resemblance (to OUR minds) to anything we
see around us. Although it is with us, here and now, outside of
space and time, we can't perceive it any more than we can perceive
those superstring dimensions that are still symmetric, on account
of our senses just can't see them. So we can't really think about
them either. Same with UberSpace. It has no room for "minds" or
anything we know about, and the "things" which are there are so
totally unlike anything else we deal with, it doesn't matter what
we name them, because no name can ever come cloCOWse to describing
them. Gods, Goddesses, Penguins, Fire Hydrants, Hot Dogs, Small
Bits Of Fluff That Sit In The Bottom Of Your Pocket Until You Set
Them On Fire For The Hell Of It, all of these are perfectly good
names for the "things" in UberSpace.
Other religions will tell you they've been saying this sort of
thing all along. Maybe they have, but they weren't being very
obvious about it.
Except maybe the Zen parable about the frog and the tadpole.
See, there's this frog trying to tell a tadpole about dry
land, only the tadpole keeps asking questions, and gets the
impression that there's nothing there. No, it's not wet. No,
there are no fish there. No, you can't swim in it. No, it's not
nothing. Sounds paradoxical, but only because the tadpole doesn't
have the words for it.
Not that a tadpole has the words for water, either, but you
get the point.
You might say that if there's nothing we can say about the
things in UberSpace, we might as well forget about it. Well,
that's based on Multiverse perceptions of reality, too. NOTHING
you can think about them (even calling them "THEM" or "IT") is
true. Not even the statement that nothing you can think about them
is true. And this goes beyond the mere "nothing is true" you have
inside the Multiverse. It's more fundamental than that. No matter
what you think about them, it's incomplete.
A logical person will tell you that the last paragraph is
totally devoid of meaning. This is true, in a sense, and certainly
relative to that person. But that's only because the language
being used lacks some fundamental concepts, not that the human
brain can't get the idea. Try to describe COLD. Doesn't work too
well.
Previous religions and science (notably Zen BuddhBLATT and
Georg Cantor's study of transfinite ordinals) have been attempting
to express this idea in words. But like 5 is no closer to infinity
than 3 is (infinity is NOT a number, it's the set of all numbers,
which is a different KIND of object), these ideas have been unable
to express what they meant. In the terms of Godel's formal
systems, they were insufficiently powerful to describe all
statements they might want to. MOOism, on the other hand, is
powerful enough, but just barely, and it's not too comprehensible.
It's like a jump up from 0 to 1, or 1 to 2. Those are fundamental
leaps, from nothing to something, from singlular to plural. The
next leap isn't until finite to infinite. MOO made the leap from
0 to 1. We are now sufficiently powerful to at least begin to
describe it. But there are more leaps than a mere infinite number.
The Absolute Infinite is beyond all leaps, the set of all leaps,
and there is an inifinite number of these leaps.
But that doesn't mean we "understand". Although we are no
able to express the idea, that just makes us prone to the Godel
argument (it's related to the Liar Paradox: any system powerful
enough to express what it wants can express "true" things that it
can't prove). So we still don't "understand". But that word
doesn't mean what it ususally does. The word in its ususal sense
doesn't apply here. Anyone who says they do OR don't understand
UberSpace has missed the point. Anyone who talks about missing the
point has missed the point. There is no point. I dunno.
It's kind of hard to understand at first, I know. That's why
I suggested skipping this section. If you were one of those who
should have skipped this section to begin with, you can proceed to
the Book of Myths, an altogether more interesting Book, on account
of I'm about to string together a bunch of physical jargon terms to
make a pseudo-paragraph that almost sounds as if it means
something. This may seem pointless to the rest of you, but it
should be an amusing exercise for any advanced physicBLATTTs or
Vedic Thingies who just HAPPEN (by a feat of Author's Convenience)
to be reading this annoying mind drug.
Superstrings obey the E(8) squared symmetry because they
contain modal referents to the "big-bang" event at each point. In
the string dimensions whose vibrational modalities (!) compose all
functions of space, time, matter, and energy, the symmetry-break
event is a non-event. So, they remain symmetric under those
transformations. The broken symmetry of the time axis is the
result of certain vibrational variations on the other dimensions,
and a simple Fourier Transform can map the asymmetries of THAT
break of symmetry onto similar breaks on each dimension, imposing
a higher order group symmetry on the supposedly broken ones of a
lower order group.
If that didn't make sense to you, don't worry. If it had
actually MEANT anything, I would have explained it. But it didn't.
At least, I HOPE it didn't. If it made sense to you, you may
consult either your psychiatrBLATTT or a cosmological mathematician
or one of those people there.
Man, I HOPE it didn't make sense. I made it up off the top of
my head, maaaan.
Section Seven: Fun Stuff
So... you've decided you want to be a mystic... Well, I'm
gonna give you a few things to do on the way there, okay? Stuff to
think about.
If you like thinking, this is fun stuff. If you don't, it's
a lot better than reading all the reading stuff. Of course, you
can always find your own way to the One, but hey, it's tricky that
way... These are just a few pointers and things to think about...
Zen Koans (little stories or puzzles designed to free the mind of
logical thought), logic puzzles, that kinda thing... Just fun
stuff.
a) If a tree explodes in the middle of the forest, and there's
nobody around to hear it, does it make a sound?
b) How much wood COULD a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could
chuck wood?
c) A man finds a genie in a bottle, and the genie grants him one
wish, and ONLY one wish, but it will grant any wish at all. The
man wishes for a hundred wishes. What happens?
d) A man keeps asking silly questions about woodchucks, genies,
trees, and questions. Eventually he is found dead. Why?
e) (This was the only question on a Philosophy Exam, honest.)
Why?
(Some dimwit got 100% for the answer "Why not?")
f) This one's a Zen Koan, about three thousand years old, about
the greatest of all Zen teachers, Joshu. I thought it might
interest you:
"One day, Joshu and another monk were standing together in
the monastery, when a dog wandered by. The monk asked Joshu
whether the dog had 'Buddha Nature' or not. Joshu answered
with a single word: MU."
(Note: Joshu was speaking in Chinese at the time, and the way
this story was translated gives us that particular spelling. What
he actually said was "MOO!" Since then, this has been a sort of
Zen way of "unasking" a question you don't like. Them Zen guys
sure knew where it was at, ayup. What it means is that only by NOT
asking dumb questions like that can you know the answers to them.)
Section Eight: Further Reading...
I don't know of very many annoying mind drugs that will give
you any good insights into Truth, or NonTruth... Here are a few
that helped me find the Path that led me to where I am now.
1) Infinity And The Mind, by Rudy Rucker *
2) The Fourth Dimension, by Rudy Rucker
3) The Tao Of Pooh, by Benjamin Hoff
4) Godel, Escher, Bach, by Douglas R. Hofstader *
5) The Illuminatus Trillogy, by Robert Anton Wilson *
6) Almost anything else by Rudy Rucker
7) Mind Children by Hans Moravec (HANS of Floyd 16)
Apology: I would like to apologize for this excursion into
deep metaphysical stuff, and I hope it hasn't interfered with your
day. If it has, please address all complaints to:
Swami Banananana
13 Regis Lane
BonkVille Ontario Canada
A1A 1A1
You won't get a reply, but you will feel much better about it.
Confuse-Ius Would Like To Point Out:
"þ'm rîܜþ gîÅÅþþg Åþrîë 韠ܜ Åhþ þéþîþî à 隅 rþþþþg
àr难ë Årþþþg Åé éþî þîéþî. þ Åhîþ'ë wàþÅîë à -Åþmî
éþþþg þîréþ, Åhîþ h障ë hàvî géÅ þ þîmîþ-éþþþg Åé ëé Åhþ.
þ隠kþéw, éþî 韠Åh ëàþ, þ'm géþþg Åé màrh rþghÅ ëéwþ Åé
àþrþàþîr hîàëqàrÅîr, ëîmàþë Åé îî Åhî 霧 àþrþþ随
àþîr随 hþm, àþë þàÅ hþm þÅþ mþ hîàë ܜ 韟, Åé
îî Åhî éék éþ hþ hþë-þàm ۮ-rrégàÅî."
-The Book Of Stuff, Chapter 3, Verses 4-8 ADDENDUM BY GRAND POOBAH PENG-PENG IN 135705
Multiverses
What's a multiverse? According to Floyd's interpretation of
the Gospel According to Yari, one of the chunks of tundra was a
"multiverse", which was inhabited by souls. Actually, there was
only one soul, and Floyd was a nincompoop.
A multiverse is this sort of universe thing that contains all
possible universes, all possible multiverses (kinda circular, but
it's highly infinite anyway, so who cares?) and generally all
possibilities of things that might be.
For instance, say the universe has some infinite number of
possible states it can be in, a state being any situation: the
positions of the atoms, what people are thinking, whether it has a
grape at such-and-such a spot, and so on. For each of these
states, you give a dimension (okay, so it's an infinite dimensional
space, but just pretend it isn't)... And each possible path
through time of the universe is a line, going in THIS direction,
then THIS direction, and so forth as it moves from state to state
(like the travelling salesman, minus the farmer's daughter).
So then all possible hBLATTTories of the universe are a
certain line. Call each of these LINES a possible state for a
universe whose hBLATTTory is changing all the time (as in, someone
has a time machine and keeps changing hBLATTTory)... Now each of
these lines is a state, and you get the same kind of thing, a line
for every hBLATTTory of hBLATTTories.
Now you JUMP, and get an infinite stack of 'em, a stack
consBLATTTing of everything possible path of paths of paths (and so
on) through this universe with these possible states. Now make
such a doohickey for all possible universes (where a universe is
defined by the various states it can be in), so now you have one of
these stacks for every possible universe with every possible law of
physics. Now arrange them in an infinite dimensional space, since
the laws of physics can keep changing (ACK!) and repeat again,
since the laws of physics telling you how to arrange the universes
in this space can change...
Keep doing this forever, so you get all possibilities. Now
JUMP again to a finished process. This is a multiverse.
But what about all other possible multiverses? Well, since
the thing is extremely infinite anyway, it can contain all possible
OTHER multiverses. And so on. It contains itself.
This is the multiverse described in Floyd's interpretation of
what the hell's going on. Now throughout this, there's constant
movement of souls. For a description of souls, look in the Book of
Really Secret Secrets. Souls move from state to state with their
universes, sure, but they also move throughout all the various
levels I've been telling you about. Now, according to Floyd, the
multiverse is one bit of Tundra, and the souls are infinitely many
ground of parts of another bit. I'm telling you it's a lie.
Floyd's lying to you.
Actually, the souls are all little branches of the same thing,
the same way leaves are all parts of the same tree. And the tree
is a branch off the multiverse itself. It makes its own souls...
They're all part of the same mind.
So, in fact, everything and everyone IS the whole multiverse,
sorta. Whenever someone claims to be "god" (which they seem to do
fairly often), they're absolutely right, in some sense. Of course,
everything is true (a fact contained inside the multiverse, some
versions of which have NO souls, but those are contained inside the
"absolute" one) and it's also true to say that there's no such
thing as the multiverse.
Confusing, innit?
Now the multiverse is just one tiny fragment of the tundra, of
course. The other fragments are totally different, since it's the
only multiverse there is (NOT!)... In fact, it's so confusing, I
won't even bother to explain it. However, you also have to
remember that there are things which are NOT parts of the Tundra.
Now, Eris, "BOB", QUACK, and so forth, they were all created from
parts of the Tundra, but there are also the original Penguins, who
lived on the tundra before it blew up, there's the Primordial
Penguin, the Great MOO, of course, and there's the Game itself,
Nomic. These are things that weren't even contained in the Tundra
to begin with.
Even more confusing, innit?
The worst part is, all of this is contained inside some
infinite part of the multiverse, with little FAKE versions of the
Great MOO, the Nomic Game, the Primordial Penguin, and so forth,
even a little Tundra... If you ever DO find them, you can never be
sure you found the REAL ones...
However, at least you get to vote in the Nomic, and that's the
important thing. I think.
NOTE ON SECRETS
Obviously, since this stuff is supposedly "really really
secret secret" stuff, and nobody is supposed to be able to know
about it, we have to explain something here. This was discovered
and elaborated on in conjunction with he whose holy "pseudo" is
Midget Jim, who is another of the Co-Directors of the Nomic Club.
Anyway, the idea is that there are nine levels of security of
MOO. They are in a little grid thingy, because Nomic people like
grids. So here's the grid. Ayup... Any moment now. Here it
comes.
LEVEL IT CLAIMS TO BE AT
Top Secret Middle Secret Not Secret
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÂÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÂÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÂÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĿ
LEVEL ³Top Secret³ 90% ³ 5% ³ 4% ³
IT IS ÃÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĴ
REALLY ³Mid Secret³ 9/10 % ³ 5/100 % ³ 4/100 % ³
AT ÃÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÅÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĴ
³Not Secret³ 9/1000 % ³ 5/10000% ³ 4/10000 % ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÁÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÁÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÁÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
So it takes a little explanation. "Top Secret" means stuff
that nobody at all is allowed to know. Nobody. Not even the
Grate Prophet. The Great MOO won't tell him that stuff, or even
admit that it exBLATTTs. Maybe the Great MOO doesn't even know
some of it. Though she could if she wanted to.
Middle secret means that one or two people are allowed to know
it. As in, the High Preest and the Grate Prophet, and maybe,
sometimes, the Elite Upper Councillors.
Not secret means it's not secret. So the stuff written above,
which CLAIMS to be Middle Secret, is actually Not Secret. It falls
in the five ten thousandths of one percent of all info about MOO
in that category. All information about MOOism falls onto that
chart. Honest. There's no more. Not a bit. Don't bother adding
up the numbers, because it comes out to 100%. Really. It does.
I'm not kidding here. It actually all adds up to a hundred per
cent. No more, no less. STOP THAT! Someone was about to add
them up!
In fact, the Church Of MOO uses many levels of security, some
of which should be evident from the sample of our Random-Letterhead
Generator, on the next page. DO NOT INGEST: OFFICAL MOOIST THING
Inhale Eris! Glaze "BOB"! Warship MOO! Go Forth And Multiply Yourself!
Concerning:
MOOist Disinformation ( )
Offical Memo ( )Inter-Cult Communique ( ) Mint Control ( ) MOOist Agonizations ( )Postal Holocaust ( ) Dogma/Catma/Potatoma ( ) Interim Government ( )SubGenius Material ( ) Discordian Material ( ) Delicate Material ( )
Security Rating:
Violet-Greenish ( )
MegaPueblo ( )Paleolithic ( ) EYES ONLY ( ) Flying Fish ( )SuperFrog ( ) Magick ( ) B/6 Alpha ( )Not Very Secure ( ) Omega Rena ( ) Burn Before Reading ( )Burrito 12 ( ) Salamander ( ) Vampire Potato ( )
POTATOMA OF SYNERGY
For St. Bucky Fuller
As Written By Floyd Gecko
Potatoma is like dogma, but more interesting, and less rigid,
and generally not very dogmatic. Actually, scratch that "like
dogma" business. It isn't. But it's just sort of true, okay?
LOOK! IT'S JUST TRUE! IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE IT, YOU'RE A HERETIC,
AND WE'LL BURN YOU AT THE STAKE!
Synergy. No, it's not a new-fangled kind of sin. Though that
would probably be more fun. Synergy is a systems concept. A
concept of whole systems as dBLATTTinct from the sum of their
parts.
COW. FNORD!
Synergy is the concept that a whole system, whether it's the
Universe as a whole, or a person, or just a digital watch (or even
a potato) is always more than the sum of its parts considered
separate from each other. There's a simple reason for this:
What this gobbledegook means, roughly, is that the Synergetic
information contained in an object is equal to the smallest
possible sum of subsets of the whole universe which contain it.
That is, the total non-redundant information contained in ALL the
subsets of that object (potato, human, digital watch, galaxy,
whatever). Reducing the object to a bunch of parts, and analyzing
each of those parts separately will miss all those subsets that lie
partly in one part and partly in another. Since this is virtually
ALL the subsets of any given system, if you chop the system up into
separate peices, and then try to put it back together with vague
statements about how they relate, you'll end up with less
information than you had before, and therefore an incomplete
system.
This means that our language, which uses words to separate one
concept from another, and science, which by definition takes the
bits apart and studies them by BREAKDOWN, usually fails to explain
or understand the world, unless a Synergetic worldview is imposed
over it.
The Synergetic worldview rejects this whole "mind/body"
dualBLATT, since there's no way to validate it, and everything we
know about neuropsychology says it's just deluded nonsense. Even
if they "are" two separate things, considering them separately
ignores 99% of the important information about a person.
Considering them as a Synergy, a unified whole, contains far more
information. Same too of the "Brain" and "Body" duality.
For instance, the Brain/Body duality can't explain why
hypnosis can make people incapable of pain, or why positive
thinking leads to a healthy body, because it can't MAKE CONNETIONS
between the "two" things. Hypnosis works by bringing your whole
system in phase with a certain regular input (see the Cybernetics
section) and making it more susceptible to high-level
reprogramming. This means then that your whole mind-body system is
realigned according to instructions given to you. You may "THINK"
you're just going along with it, and in a sense, you are. But your
body is "playing along" too. So you sometimes end up doing things
your mind would NEVER have been able to do on its own, or made to
do things without really knowing WHY. The connections between the
"mind" and the "brain" are stronger than we realize.
In fact, neurophysiology tells us that neuropeptides, a
chemical secreted by the brain cells in certain situations, can act
as a neurotransmitter ("brain goop") OR as a hormone ("body goop").
This wouldn't make sense in a non-Synergetic worldview, because the
Body and the Brain "are" different things.
(KLAXON BELLS! ALARM SIRENS!) WRONG!
They're just limited subsets of the whole Psychosoma Synergy
(P.S.) That's the principle that makes Faith Healing WORK. When
the electrochemical activity in the brain subset of the P.S. is
activated in a certain way, it triggers certain neurotransmitters,
including neuropeptides and endorphins. Those can ACT ON THE BODY
to make it heal up.
Speaking of healing up, Sharks are known to be almost
completely immune to the most deadly diseases known to humanity
(i.e. infected with Black Death one day, the virus vanishes from
their systems LITERALLY overnight). Also, sharks are almost
totally Cancer resBLATTTent. Tumors which DO appear vanish
quickly, and are almost never malignant to begin with...
Coincidence? Then there's the UFO problem. Synergetic
Worldviews can connect the most seemingly unrelated things to bring
a POSSIBLE (maybe wrong, but at least possible) answer to the
question "WHAT ARE THEY?".
A recently discovered phenomenon called "gravity waves" is
assumed to be a self-perpetuating (see the Cybernetics section)
plasma vortex that enters the atmosphere. Basically a tiny Aurora
Borealis. It forms a large flat surface which shows up on radar,
because it's ionized. This surface moves around in the atmosphere
and, like the Aurora, makes strange noises in the sky. Their
motions would be impossible for solid objects.
The human spinal column can act as an antenna, receiving
strange and confusing inputs from magnetic phenomena, interfering
with the processing of the brain.
Synergetically, then, combining the two, in certain cases,
some people will be given more or less random reprogramming
impulses, making them hallucinate/dream things which SEEM
COMPLETELY REAL, in areas where strange moving lights appear in the
sky which show up on radar and appear to defy the laws of physics.
The patterns of susceptibility for people tend to be those under a
lot of stress, who go into realBLATTTic-dreaming mode near
UFOs... DOCTRINE OF THE CYBORGANIC CHURCH
Cyborg: CYBernetic ORGanBLATT. An organBLATT based on
cybernetic principles, or an amalgam of an organBLATT and
cybernetic systems.
Cybernetic: Relating to cybernetics, the study of feedback,
information transfer, control systems, and other functions related
to the precise purposeful functioning of a dynamic system. Any
functions relating to governing the behaviour of a system towards
a goal.
OrganBLATT: An organized system composed of dependent and
independent parts, which combine to create a whole system through
dynamic interaction.
From these definitions, it's easy for many to see that the
term "cyborg" is redundant. Cybernetic systems are all
organBLATTs, and organBLATTs are all cybernetic systems, because
the two things are exactly the same.
On the other hand, almost anything can be viewed through this
filter, and the results are frequently enlightening. For instance,
any organized religion can be viewed as a cyborg. The base
cybernetic control patterns are laid down by whatever book or oral
tradition contains the beliefs of the system, and negative
reinforcement feedback systems are set up to prevent deviation.
Ilya Prigogine's work in local negative entropy tells us that
although entire closed systems tend to move towards maximum
entropy, there tends to be a clumping of negative entropy in
certain areas. This means, when applied to the cybernetic
organBLATT view of a religion, that cybernetic control systems will
probably emerge by themselves after the organBLATT's programming
has been spread to enough brains. Treating the brains as
individual "cluster units", we find that there is a tendency for
individuals with the same programming to cluster together and
establish a cybernetic feedback mechanism to control the changes in
the individuals, to prevent them from separating from the cluster.
This fits very well with what we know of sociology, and merely
offers an explanation of the root cause WHY this occurs, without
detailing the mechanics of the situation. It also suggests that
however "decentralized" a religion might wish to be, the only way
to avoid the spontaneous generation and Darwinian evolution of a
heirarchical clergy system is to establish a meta-cybernetic system
in order to provide negative feedback on all clergy forming
patterns.
Any of the GNU "iconoclast" religions, in order to spread
their memetic systems to as many minds as possible, without the
benefits of age and established seniority enjoyed by other, older
religions, must first establish a central meta-cybernetic system,
in their memetic organBLATT-program, and then disseminate it as
widely as possible. They should permit clustering activity to
occur briefly, with temporary rapid-scale cybernetic control
systems forming according either to a preset seed or a random
vector. This permits the enforcement of their basic program into
the organBLATT's components, the humans involved. However, the
program should, at least in part, generate a dissociative impulse
as part of the meta-cybernetic control system, perhaps by
imprinting dominance patterns on the members, instead of the
traditional sumbissiveness patterns. Whatever the mechanism, the
people then gather their own clusters from the people around them,
beginning the cycle again. This ensures the rapid spread of the
meme system, after which positive feedback systems can be restored.
This pattern indicates why GNU religions tend to be individualistic
and antiauthoritarian, while older religions tend to be more
dogmatic and authority-based. The few exceptions to this rule,
such as Zen Buddhism, may or may not be representative of the next
class of religion.
This next class of religion is a multi-level meta-cybernetic
organBLATT. That is to say, it continually reprograms itself to
prevent the final and absolute imposition of any coherent
cybernetic structures at all. One negative feedback mechanism,
which is initially used to disperse the inherent clustering effect,
and might otherwise expand to become a positive feedback system in
GNU external circumstances (for it must be remembered that these
negative-entropy clusters can only occur, by definition, when ther
ARE external circumstances to change the effect of a given policy)
can be replaced by a new, higher-order effect. The Strange-Loop
nature of this system is clear, since there must always be some
form of cybernetic control, or the dissociative pattern will be
completely disruptive of the memetic structure. In short, there
must be a meta-level self-cybernetic control system which recycles
in many forms, completely destroying itself cyclically, changing
the pattern of the religion continuously. This will result in
seemingly random clustering and dissipation activities.
This form of behaviour, all hopefully caused by the root
program, is extremely insidious if programmed for indefinite
expansion. Since the metacybernetic controls do not require any
FIXED base-level feedback systems, the primary pattern can
reference ANY meme-system as its organBLATT's controls, causing
associative patterns within the individuals, and triggering the
metacybernetic program within the organBLATT's function whenever
the base-level cybernetic routines are invoked. This is the result
of the cybernetic-organBLATT paradigm, the neural-net nature of the
processors in which such programs run best, and the macromemetic
paradigm of religious thought. The end result is a religion which
"absorbs" other religions, and other forms of thought, guaranteeing
that its undefined level functions will be invoked as an auxiliary
to almost any processing of the units. This makes the religion act
as a large and highly invasive informational virus, spread rapidly,
and yet have no evident direct effect, due to the lack of base-
programming, unless such base-programming is included as "hook"
material, to establish the metalevel cybernetics.
But the Cyborganic model is hardly limited to religions. A
human can be seen as a Cyborg. We are basically a Synergetic
dynamic system (see the Synergy section) which, by Prigogine's
princples, and by the tendency of dynamic nonlinear systems to fall
into Strange Attractors, end up forming into almost stable systems.
These systems can be regularized by any periodic input, just
like any nonlinear system, but since there are cybernetic control
stabilizing systems in place on lower levels and many higher
levels, the periodicity takes effect primarily on medium-level
functions such as metabolic rhythms, neurocephalic electrochemical
processes, and those processes responsible for health.
When subjected to inputs which are too stable, the dynamic
nature of the system is undermined, and it collapses to greater and
greater periodicity, known as habits, senility, and, in the final
period-one attractor, death. In this stage, however, the self-
cohesive nature of the system is disrupted, and the mind and body
disassociate. Therefore, the symptoms of all three stages include
lack of coherent thought, lack of original creation, and lack of
unforseen actions. These symptoms are most pronounced in the third
and final stage, death.
Fortunately, however, small periodicity-inducing inputs keep
the system from spontaneously dissociating or from losing
coherency. By regularizing the dynamic balance, reorganizing
systems, and performing homeostatic maintenance routines, the body
can be made more fit for activity. The period in which this
particular form of simultaneous dual feedback takes place is
frequently known as "sleep", and, in the correct balance, it
prolongs the life. In incorrect balance, too much or too little,
it shortens the projected stability interval of the attractor which
"is" the human. This same effect, as well as many other "useful"
by-products, can be accomplished by a regularizing input, such as
music, pink noise, massage, or mild and comfortable sensory
deprivation.
Similar forms of regularizing inputs, used more strategically,
can be observed in hypnosis. The metabolic and cognitive processes
are brought into a stable vector, which is then maintained by
slightly altered feedback and control systems. In this state,
inputs are more easily accepted, to affect the human system vector
(see Synergy section).
As we can see, the Cyborganic model of reality, combined with
a Synergetic approach, provides a highly effective modelling system
for the world, and illuminates otherwise incomprehensible areas of
cognition.
But it still won't get you a taxi in GNU York.
CONFUSE-ING INTER-RAPTURE #13013
HAIL ZELDA!
SET THE RIGATONI FREE!
GRUNGY SOCKS! MULTIVERSE TWO: THE SEQUEL
THIS TIME IT'S PERSONAL...
The Multiverse is a framework in which to put our ideas about
the universe, and not really an ordinary idea about the universe.
If you've been left in suspense, or suspenders, or just ordinary
pense or pence about what this framework is, or didn't understand
before, this is your chance to get it...
IT'S BACK! AND IT MEANS BUSINESS!
To get what I mean about a framework, imagine those funny
trellis-things they use to grow vines on; not terribly wonderful on
their own, they still let the nice pretty vines grow. Or, if
you're a pooter-person, think of it as the BIOS of ideas, not
really a concept (program, data, text, graphics, whatever) on its
own, it gives a setting in which those are useful.
The Multiverse, however, is a VERY tangled heirarchy. It
contains itself, and many versions of itself, just as if it were an
ordinary idea about the universe. Because, in a sense, it is.
Here's a beginning of explaining, in more detail, how it
works. Even though it uses certain theories of how the universe
works, which are the best available to me right now, still
understand that it could be applied to ANY laws of physics, or even
a total lack of physics, given a little imagination. That's the
whole point.
First, think of graphs. Them annoying things we all learn in
"Hi, School!"... You have two axes (usually), and certain points
are marked "on". Each point represents a certain possible input-
output of an equation, given two variables. Each point is a
possible (X,Y) co-ordinate. Some are just marked on for certain
equations, but others are just as valid, as point are concerned.
Suppose your formula is something like Y=3X, which graphs as
a straight line. Then you get points turned on for (3,1), for
(4.5,1.5), and so on and so forth, because you have an axis for X
and an axis for Y. If you make that Y=ZX, and add an axis for Z,
you get a 3-D surface of a tilting plane. For more complicated
formulae, like y=AX3+BX2+CX+D, or what-have-you, you get axes for
X, Y, A, B, C, and D... A Six-dimensional graph describes every
possible solution for that equation.
The Multiverse is a space like the space these graphs are
graphed in, but infinitely more complex.
Suppose we take some version of, for instance, the Superstring
model (probably far out of date by the time this book reaches you,
but that's as may be, since it makes no difference), in which all
of physics is described by the vibration of certain patterns of
waves in a ten-dimensional space, where all but four (space and
time) are folded up very small (like part of a tube, where one
dimension is a little circle)... There's only one thing, this
spacial substance (dimension) which looks like time, space, matter
(when vibrating in nodes), energy (when vibrating freely), and
consciousness (when organized in self-modifying ways). The state
of the universe consBLATTTs of the state of all the various
waveforms that are going on. And each of these can be described by
an equation or mathematical representation.
Bear in mind that while this is true of the Superstring model,
it's also true of every other model of the universe PHYSICS has
produced, and, with a little imagination, to every other idea of
how the universe works. I leave these up to you if you want to
figure out how to do it, with the hint that an axis or dimension
doesn't have to represent a mathematical quantity.
Anyway, the various equations combine together to form one
long expression, in numbers and symbols, for the current state of
the universe. It's possible that this expression is infinite, but
that's not fundamentally a problem, since you can always define
some way of finding it.
Imagine a space, like the graphs I was talking about, in which
each axis is defined by one of these waveforms, and so each point
in this many-many-many-dimensional (or indeed infinite-dimensional)
defines a universe. All those points are equally real and valid,
so all universes are equally real in some sense.
You can extend this concept, with a little bit of jiggery-
pokery, to include the past hBLATTTory of the universe, the future
hBLATTTory, if you feel so inclined, or many other things.
Of course, if you make the past-hBLATTTory just descriptive of
every instant in time, then you end up with lots of universes which
follow no logic at all, just shifting from one random pattern to
the next every instant, but you also end up with infinitely many
universes which DO have a logic, a law of physics. Just that it's
totally different in every one of them.
Many of these universes will have different numbers of
waveforms, if you try to describe EVERY universe, which means
different points are in different numbers of dimensions, but this
is hardly a problem. There are lots of simple formulae in ordinary
graphs with variable numbers of dimensions. For instance, the
formula Y=X0.5 is in two dimensions everywhere, one of which is
always the same, but when X<0, the second dimension goes in one
directions, and when X>0, it goes perpendicular to that. The
formula Y=XX is in two dimensions when X>0, but in THREE when X<0.
In each case, the graph becomes more intelligible by increasing the
number of dimensions: to three in the first case, and to four in
the second. In any event, with an extremely infinite number of
dimensions (for not all infinities are the same) all these
universes become handleable.
Imagine that this graph-space, the infinite-dimensional place
you're putting all these points, is a universe itself. Its state
is the way you associate the points with littler universes. All
the infinitely different ways of doing this can be laid out in a
similar space, and so on, and so forth, infinitely. At the top is
the Multiverse.
Honest.
But in fact, the Multiverse is then just an idea about the
universe. But I said it contains itself, and other versions.
Suppose your idea of the multiverse is that there's this giant
Hot-Dog, the Multiverse, and inside it, all the many possible
universes are actually essential nutrients to a Giant Horny-Toad.
Well, that ought to be contained in the Multiverse also. So it
contains infinitely many alternate versions of itself, and vice-
versa. This is where it gets REALLY tricky to visualize, so
ususally I don't bother trying.
Anyway, what's all this crap about SOULS being in the
Multiverse?
Well, remember, we began with the concept of a GRAPH space.
Souls are the formulae you graph in it. Of course, other alternate
versions of the multiverse have other interpretations of the
graphs, or other meanings for "SOULS", but that's beside the point.
The graph is hard to express in terms of ordinary mathematics,
so I won't bother. Basically the points get turned on in every
universe in which a certain pattern exBLATTTs. Just like in an
ordinary graph, the points get turned on if the equation is true
when you put in the numbers those points represent. What this
means is, any universe in which, say, your mind exBLATTTs,
including all your thoughts, feelings, personality, and current
perceptions, is a universe which gets turned "on" (oooh, this is so
BINARY I could almost puke! Base 23 all the way, dude!)
This means that your "soul" is, in a certain sense (in some
version of the Multiverse in which this particular oversimplified
version happens to be true) the sum-total of all the universes in
which your mind and what you're currently seeing, hearing, etc.
exBLATTTs. The graph looks like an infinitely complex, infinite-
dimensional fractal pattern (like those nifty Mandelbrot pictures
you see everywhere):
Like the Mandelbrot set picture-thing, your soul is infinitely
complex around the edges, and has certain regions which are
entirely filled in. The difference is, it changes character
ENTIRELY when moving from spot to spot thoughout the multiverse,
while the Mandelbrot changes only in detail, looking basically the
same all over.
The reason for this is that the Mandelbrot is a top-down sort
of thing. We define it by simple math. The Multiverse is built
from the bottom up. It cannot, by definition, be built from the
top down, because it contains itself in infinite recursion. It has
a bottom to work up from, but no top.
Anyway, your soul "is" all connected together, though infinte
dimensions and infinitely many universes. The personality "is"
made up of cybernetic systems (feedback, control, information
transfer), and everything else is the senses. Our souls exBLATTT
in every universe which is consBLATTTent with what we're
experiencing right here, right now. Some of these have NO laws of
physics, but by "sheer random chance", or rather the fact that SOME
of them have to, produce that pattern, with those memories, those
perceptions. This is basically the same as saying that you can
NEVER know for sure whether the "real" world "IS" real, or just
seems that way. "You are" partially in the "real" world, partially
in a pure hallucination. If you can't tell the difference, there
is none. Because of the continuity both of the space of the
multiverse, and your soul, EVERY branch of your soul contains SOME
of these little pockets of uncertainty. That's just life.
COW
There "is" a certain fuzzy area around your soul which
indicates souls similar enough to yours to be considered the same,
but this blurs out eventually into other people's souls. By sheer
continuity, through the Multiverse, we can see that not only is the
sum of all minds One (the Multiverse itself), but that it's the
same as the sum of all Universes (hence, Mind Is Reality).
As your perceptions change, your soul moves through various
universes which might explain what you sense and feel. But since
Time is also a dimension, this change is just expressed as a more
complex pattern, fixed and static. It branches sometimes, when you
try to find out things, and different universes give different
answers to the same question, making a different soul, a different
mind. Enough of this process, and you become a different person.
Imagine what a different person you'd be today if, when you went
outside to check out the weather at the age of five, you found that
gravity suddenly only worked INSIDE HOUSES.
It's a possible set of perceptions, and therefore a real point
in the Multiverse.
And yet, it's part of your soul.
Every person is a branch of some soul which overlaps
completely with some branch of YOURS somewhere, and so, by
continuity, we can say that all souls are really the same, and that
it's only pure accident (or rather, the fact that EVERYTHING is
true, somewhere) that makes you who you are, rather than me.
Because we're really all the same person.
Remember that, next time you go to crush a bug. It's just
YOU, if you'd been born a bug.
CONFUSE-ING INTER-RAPTURE #X.Y
MOO
OMM
THE BOOKS OF HISTORY
Secret HBLATTTory Of MOO
By Preest Lloyd Taco
In the dark and secret past of the Holy Church there lay many
strange and mysterious events and incarnations of our church which
would baffle hBLATTTorians today. Our religion has remained
underground for the most part, mysterious and unknown to
hBLATTTory, except for its strange effects on other religions. As
I shall show, our rituals, our annoying mind drugs, our ideas, have
surfaced in many disguises, in the forms given them by those who
knew us, but wouldn't admit it openly.
It was only recently that our Church has been able to appear
in anything resembling the public. The Great Saint Yari, so named
for Yari the First, a MOOist scholar of ancient times, appeared in
the Psycho-Shoppe for the first time some time in 1990, bringing
with him a strange and confused religion to plant in the minds of
the GNU Apostles of MOO, for such was the task bestowed upon him by
his mentor, also named Yari. For many years, the faith was handed
down through chains of mentor and student, each chain bearing the
sacred name of one of the ancient saints.
The Chain Yari is the foundation of the GNU and rising House
Of MOO, for it was Yari who grasped the truth. In the Gospel
According To Yari, the truth is revealed, and the difference
between his chain and the other chains is shown. The ancient
Apostles of old handed down their ideas to many Houses, and they
branched greatly, but the only House which preserved the old
knowledge was the House of Yari, the House of the Rising MOO.
Confuse-Ius Sez:
"For all moderately secure MOOist communications, send mail
Post-Haste. For secure communications, send them Post-Modernist.
For truly rapid and effective communication, for those top-priority
assignments, send your information Post-Holocaust."
-Book Of Things, Chapter 12, Verse 13
Indeed were there many Apostles of MOO in the old days, all
following their revelations and the revelations of the First
Prophet, known to all as Peng-Peng. And Peng-Peng delivered to
them the truth, because he could speak with both the Great MOO and
the Primordial Penguin, and so was very wise in the ways of MOO, if
a little bitchy at times, and a little irritable in the mornings
before he had his hot mud, for Peng-Peng had strange tastes in
food.
At any rate, the Apostles were many in number, but the most
important of them were Peng-Peng himself, Saint Yari, St. John The
Divine, The Illustrious Zoombart The Fifth, Apostle Zarathud, the
Miraculous One, V the Obscure, Cain The Pyro, Siddartha Gautama,
David The Dravid, Lao Tzu The Serene, and Mohammed BungmeBLATTTer.
But of course there were many many more.
And each of them descended a House of Truth, or so he
thought. For Peng-Peng had brought from whence unknown the
knowledge of MOO as complete as if it had been seen in advance, and
he made great prophecies of what was to come, and he has indeed
been proved correct. For he predicted all the Houses of his
Apostles, who were the Apostles of MOO, and what would come of
them. There follow some summaries of his prophesies up the the
present day, for strangely, they were written in code, and could
only be translated as fast as the events happened, for which nobody
has yet produced a satisfactory explanation.
Another thing for which nobody has produced an explanation
is the fact that while many of Yari's prophecies remain
undecyphered, it is clear from the lengths that none of them extend
much past the late twenty-first or early twenty-second century. He
gives the hBLATTTories of each of 17 Houses of Apostles, each
hBLATTTory being of 16 pages. These are therefore condensed
versions of what has been translated up to now.
The manuscript itself is some 232 pages long, each illustrated
with Peng-Peng's usual alacrity. The final 40 pages or so, with
the illustrations in the margin as usual, have no words.
Peng-Peng's complete incomprehensability still baffles us today, as
we don't know why he did this, or what, if anything, the
illustrations of obscure things such as dBLATTTant galaxies,
scantily-clad bathing women, or large amounts of plumbing have to
do with the text.
Without further ado, here are the summaries.
Predictions Of Peng-Peng (Confirmed)
1)
From the House Of Yari a chain shall descend that carries
the truth of matters, and it shall survive through strange and
anxious times, for it will hide the truth jealously, and not
release it until a GNU world is created in which people may speak
with each other without the use of a voice, without sight of each
other, and without hearing of a voice. And it will be through this
world that Yari will speak to the GNU Apostles of MOO, and they
shall have another Great Prophet for the first time in many
thousands of years.
And this Church shall be known as the Holy Church Of The Great
MOO, as is ours, and shall remember the truths of the Great MOO,
the Tundra, and the joy of fire, for they shall be enlightened.
And they shall have a prophet known as Half-Mad, for as it shall
some day be truly written, "That man lives best who's fain to live
half-mad, half- sane." And this Prophet shall see the light of the
Great MOO's word through the speech-without-speech of Yari, which
shall be short, but shall make known to all that may hear unclogged
the word of MOO.
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĿ
³ Confuse-Ing Inter-Rapture ³
³ "The Hidden Stone Ripens Fast ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĿ ³
³ Then Laid Bare Like A Turnip ³ Flemish Poet ³ ³
³ Can Be Cut Out Easily At Last ³ "Jan Van Stijevoort" ³ ³
³ But Even Then The Danger Isn't Past ³ 1524 ³ ³
³ That Man Lives Best Who's Fain ³ (From OMM-Verses) ³ ³
³ To Live Half-Mad, Half-Sane" ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
And Half-Mad shall speak-without-speech to others, and shall
find others inspired by the descendant of Yari, and they shall join
together to form the Church, and many Fests shall take place before
they finally see the way to the future.
[After this point, the manuscript remains undecyphered,
but Peng-Peng's name itself occurs many times in the words
that follow, which confused many scholars until Floyd Gecko
produced his forecast of Penguin Temples to follow]
2)
From the House of Zarathud shall spring a Church which will
flourish secretly in the times of Rome's rising, and it shall be
known as the Discordian Society, and Zarathud will twBLATTT and
dBLATTTort the truths of MOO, and shall dissuade the Discordians
from the path of the true Goddess MOO, and shall send them unto the
daughter of the Great MOO, named Eris, and they will be deceived by
her, whose words always deceive and trick those who lBLATTTen,
being as she is the truest Goddess after the Great MOO, and
therefore a tricky and deceptive Goddess.
These too shall be hidden from the minds and hearts of the
World until one day there shall be built great houses of bricks and
stone where people may gather together to test their skills by the
throwing of heavy stone balls towards things to knock them down.
In such a place shall be gathered those later known as Malaclypse
The Younger, whose name shall be taken from the MOOist Apostle
Malaclypse The Elder, and Omar Khayyam Ravenhurst. They shall be
greeted by the Emissary of the House of Zarathud, dressed
strangely, and using the powers of Zarathud's House to stop time.
And he shall pursuade them onto the Path of Eris, showing them the
Holy Chao, which will be the corruption of the Holy Cow, the Great
MOO herself, the two swirling halves, and they shall recognize part
of its meaning to the House of Gautama, which they shall remember.
And they shall find many other Apostles in their searches,
but these shall be long dead, and no use to anyone. And their
Church shall rise, and be the Church of one of the Apostles of MOO,
of the Church of the House Of Yari, for in this age shall both
Houses rise near in time, as with the House of The Miraculous One.
[The manuscript fades to undecyphered text]
3)
The House of The Miraculous One shall rise again near the
time of the rising of the House of Yari and the House of Zarathud,
for in this time there shall be a great lifting of restraints upon
the sundry Houses of the Apostles, each repressed by the other
Houses. The House of the Miraculous One shall be revealed as a
worshipper of the son of the Great MOO, known as "BOB", and it
shall become known as the Church Of the SubGenius, having lost its
way along the long and winding road that leads to the door of
prominence. For the followers of The Miraculous One shall take
resentment to all descendents of the Penguins, and particularly the
Primordial Penguin, and they shall denounce the son of the
Primordial Penguin as evil, as a visitor from places beyond the
stars in a great ark larger than any built by man, so great which
it travels between stars.
And they shall tell all those who will lBLATTTen that this
great ark, carrying Jehovah himself, son of the Penguin, is evil,
and that it intends to destroy human souls. For truly will they be
confused. And they will retain few tenets of the Great MOO, having
abandoned the Goddess. But they will remember some of the words of
the Goddess Eris, and shall be confusing and humourous, but they
will neglect the words of the Great MOO for a long time, thinking
them to be worthless and not recognizing their own true MOO nature.
And as the [untranslated] Antarctica, to see the Penguin,
they [untranslated] lions and tigers and bears, oh my! Lions and
tigers and bears, oh my! [Untranslated paragraphs] the Wizard of
[untranslated] truth be known to all Penguins and Spruce Trees,
for the [untranslated] wombat.
[The remainder of this confusing section is still in its
untranslated state. The last paragraph of this translation
represents some ten pages of prophecy. This is the only
sample of Peng-Peng's prophecy which hints at facts about
a fellow Church which they don't reveal yet... At least
the only one translated so far...]
4)
And the House Of Gautama shall rise early in the morning of
the future, becoming a group known loosely as BuddhBLATTT, for the
descendant of Apostle Siddartha Gautama, also known by his name,
will be called Buddha. And many splinters shall separate from this
group, away from the truth, but many of them shall know the truth,
and be known as ZEN BuddhBLATTTs. And they shall retain the true
meaning of the Great MOO, for as they answer MU to questions, they
shall reach towards the truth of Nothingness, which they shall
name Satori.
And though the House Of Gautama shall not recognize the
Gods and Goddesses which exBLATTT in the world, and shall look in
towards themselves instead of out towards the Great MOO above all
worlds real and imagined, they shall nevertheless keep the
knowledge that the true meaning of MOO transcends meaning as a
narrow version of Truth.
But the House of Gautama shall last for many thousands of
years as a full Risen House, and shall influence the rise of the
House of Lao Tze the Serene and Confuse-ius, as well as preserving
in a strange and dBLATTTorted way the Holy Cow, the Holy Chao, or,
as it shall be know to these three houses, the Sacred Tao, for as
with the spelling of MU, the House of Gautama shall be wildly
eccentric with its spellings of things. And they shall look around
and see the truths, and settle down again for a long time until
[UNTRANSLATED] eats a hot-dog, and they are all enlightened, and
explode in a puff of smoke.
[The large UNTRANSLATED signifies 10 pages of total
unknown. Whatever COW occurs between the two known
segments has been long assumed to be wierd]
5)
From the House of Lao Tze The Serene there shall spring a
group of MOOists known as TaoBLATTTs, and they shall worship the
principle of relaxedness which they will wantonly read in to the
Holy Cow, or Holy Chao. These shall carry with them the correct
attitude which is held by the Great MOO, but shall hold little
else of the Truth of MOO, for Lao Tze, even today, thousands of
years before this shall occur, is stubborn in his refusals to
accept the Truths of MOO. [Floyd Gecko's Note: There ARE NO
TRUTHS OF MOO! Peng-Peng was/will be confused on this matter]
These MOOists shall be close to the land, like we of
Atlantis, but
[and here Peng-Peng expounds for 10 pages on the virtues
of environmentalBLATT in terms of ancient Atlantis, which
is where he and his Apostles lived, when they weren't
seeking through the Gobi Desert for artifacts of the
previous MOO culture, which Floyd Gecko suggests was
actually Peng-Peng himself time-hopping and MOO-planting]
[The remaining several pages are untranslated, leaving
the reader wondering what happened to the House of Lao
Tze, and whether it was worth translating at all]
6)
The House of V The Obscure shall rise in
[once more, several untranslated pages of the manuscript
cause severe forehead-wrinkles in many, consternation in
others, and small reddish rashes in a small minority. It
is suggested that the House of V the Obscure will remain
Obscure for many more years, since these 16 pages are
mostly repetitions of a passage known to have something to
do with the hats of various High Preests, and a design
called the Eye Of Horus: an eye within a triangle]
7)
The House of St. John The Divine shall be based in a large
part upon a certain son of Jehovah, and therefore Grandson of the
Primordial Penguin. St. John shall elaborate upon the teachings of
this half-man-half-penguin and his blasphemously named "Apostles",
and throw in a shamelessly stolen part of the Book Of Floyd from
the Holy Church Of The Great MOO, descendant of the House Of Yari.
[Peng-Peng launches on a diatribe against John which has
only ever been explained by Floyd's Time-Warp hypothesis
and which lasts for several pages]
This House shall forget many of the ways of MOO, and shall
viciously repress many of the Goddess-worshiping Houses of MOO
which exBLATTT. It is because of John's evil ways and propensity
for eating mushrooms with strange side-effects that this Bungian
blight shall come upon the world, causing all Goddess acknoledging
Houses to arrive late, when this House is on the decline.
[Peng-Peng, while clearly describing ChrBLATTTianity, does
not specifically name the Church in this section, the only
one in which he makes that omission. The hBLATTTory of the
ChrBLATTTian Church is also strangely skimpy, since the
rest of these pages are an incoherent ramble about how evil
John was, and how stupid we were/will be to make him a
Saint]
8)
The House of Confuse-ius shall surface twice in the future,
under slightly different names. The first time it surfaces the
chain will have been bent and twBLATTTed, for Confucius, for so he
shall call himself, will have forgotten the ways of MOO, and his
followers, the Confucians, shall be similarly mBLATTTaken.
The second time that the House of Confuse-ius emerges, a
few hundred years earlier, the old ways will have been regained.
[Floydian Note: This is indicative either of extreme
confusion on Peng-Peng's part, or more evidence for the
Time Warp hypothesis, which also explains how the Book
Of Peng-Peng appeared in the Book of the Penguin]
The members of this House shall know the House of Yari, and
they shall know the house of Zarathud, and also shall they know the
House of V the Obscure. And they shall set forth unto the land to
cause great confusion, for that is what they shall retain of the
ancient truths of MOO, and nothing more, for they shall have a very
narrow and limited view of the world, and they shall have their
very tongues eaten by wild dogs and
[a few untranslated passages]
But the other House of Confuse-ius shall be dominant among
many of those in the East, and shall be swayed as completely from
the ways of MOO as shall be the House of John the Divine
[once more Peng-Peng loses many pages insulting John and
his descendants, everyone who ever knew him, and the ground
on which he walked, leaving the final pages of hBLATTTory
of this House untranslated for the future]
9)
The House Of Mohammed BungmeBLATTTer shall truly be
strange, for as one of the later Mohammeds receives his inspiration
from the Great MOO, he shall be biased, as any MOOist should
definitely not be, and shall produce an annoying mind drug called
Al-Qur'an which shall confuse many, for he knew of the House of
Confuse-ius also. And while it shall come clearly from the Great
MOO, there shall be great doubt of what, if anything, it shall have
to do with any tenets of MOO, and there shall be great uncertainty
for a long time.
And though it is true that the first chapter of this
annoying mind drug shall be called "The Cow", and the words clearly
related to the Primordial Penguin and his Son, and the Great MOO
herself, even unto the last days shall there be doubt in the minds
of many of whether Mohammed BungmeBLATTTer was indeed a second
prophet of MOO.
[This provides yet more evidence for the Time-Warp idea,
since Peng-Peng gives a relatively short hBLATTTory of
Islam, and instead focuses on the fact that nobody will
ever know who this Mohammed was, and indeed whether he
was actually a member of the House of Mohammed, or whether
it was just a coincidental name, as seen below]
And indeed shall there be much doubt of whether the House
Of Mohammed BungmeBLATTTer did survive the long and harsh millennia
between now and then, or whether it shall surface again later,
after much has passed.... but OH! The vision leaves me here, and
I cannot say what will happen!
[Floyd suggests that Peng-Peng was desperately trying to
think of a way to explain that he couldn't see what was
going to happen later than his own time period]
10)
[This entry, on the House of David the Dravid, is very
muddled, suggesting Peng-Peng was drunk or stoned when he
wrote it, having sampled John The Divine's mushrooms. This
is, of course, the ORIGINAL John The Divine, not the one
who would later steal the Book Of Revelations, his
descendant in the House of John. What is translated makes
references to the Holy Cow, Holy Chao, and something about
Gautama. The rest seems to be random croonings and
untranslatable gibberish about HinduBLATTT and some dog
called Spot]
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĿ
³Here Endeth The Prophesies Of Peng-Peng³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
Commentary By Lloyd Taco:
The final 7 entries are untranslated. This is partly due
to the fact that 40 pages of the original manuscript are missing,
their whereabouts unknown, partly to the fact that many of the
pages are blank, with only the marginal illustrations of bathing
women, distant galaxies, and masses of plumbing, partly to the fact
that Peng-Peng wrote in a peculiar dialect of Atlantean and a
strange handwriting which becomes virtually illegible at this
point, since these were evidently in chronological order of
writing, and Peng-Peng's life was beginning to fall apart at this
point, as he grew more and more resentful of John The Divine, spent
more and more time eating strange mushrooms, and used up great
swathes of time crooning about a dog named Spot.
MOOists interested in seeing the actual manuscript can look
for it as the Voynich Manuscript at Yale University's Beinecke Rare
Annoying Mind Drug and Manuscript Library. Peng-Peng's
handwriting is illegible, of course, but this makes little
difference, as he is writing in Atlantan and Ancient Gobi anyway,
save for a note in the middle, written by someone else in Middle
High German about the Herbal of Matthiolaus (a member of the House
of Confuse-ius, most likely), and some labelling in Spanish of an
astrological chart, which fails utterly to include Peng-Peng's OWN
astrological sign, the '76 Pinto (Feb 30th, April 1st, and the
entire month of June).
As for the remaining Houses, we can only surmise that some
strange variation on our Holy Church remains out there somewhere,
passing on a wierd and altered version of our faith from Mentor to
Student, and has yet to emerge. No mention is made anywhere in the
manuscript of Apostle known as the Illustrious Zoombart the Fifth,
and to this day nobody knows who he was.
All this, of course, has been a load of bull.
AFTERWORD
By High Preest Floyd Gecko
My alter ego has given a concise account of the retroactive
prophecies of Peng-Peng, who is destined to follow me as the
Primordial Penguin's messenger on Earth. What he has failed to
take into account is the fact that Peng-Peng was NOT, in fact, the
first Prophet of MOO, but was rather a bowl of strawberry sherbet.
This is an important distinction for several reasons, which
follow below.
1) A bowl of strawberry sherbet cannot decypher a cryptic glyph,
no matter WHAT it's inscribed on.
2) A bowl of strawberry sherbet cannot travel through time, and
thus the predictions must be genuine.
3) A bowl of strawberry sherbet cannot make predictions, and thus
someone else MUST have done.
4) A bowl of strawberry sherbet cannot spend any amount of time
alone in a cave mourning for a dog named Spot, or anything else
for that matter, let alone an increasing amount of time.
5) A bowl of strawberry sherbet cannot write such lucid
descriptions of the future using a coarse pen, such as was used
on the Voynich manuscript. It would have to use a small pen.
6) A bowl of strawberry sherbet is incapable of using the ancient
Atlantean script, because it requires much patience, and the
sherbet would melt.
Of course, Lloyd is entitled to his own opinion on this
here subject, but since I am the High Preest, his opinion is wrong.
For those interested in such things, the Voynich Manuscript
does indeed exBLATTT, though the 40 pages which Lloyd claims are
missing are actually in my back pocket, and the margin
illustrations, including those many pages which consist of them and
nothing else, the Middle High German text, and the Spanish
astrological tables are all additions by a later author to confuse
the issue. This author was apparently a member of the House of V
the Obscure, so his or her reasons for doing this are unclear at
best.
The identities of the current descendants of V the Obscure,
the Illustrious Zoombart the Fifth, and the other houses which have
yet to emerge are unknown. They might be anyone, whether they know
it or not. However, I have reason to believe that I myself am NOT
V the Obscure.
Notes:
1) The symbol of V the Obscure is a large V, his name, with a
small "O", for Obscure, sitting between the prongs of the V.
Nobody is sure what the significance of this is.
2) Strawberry sherbet is one of the least common sherbet flavours
after pickle and onion.
3) The Illustrious Zoombart The Fifth is probably responsible for
anything you don't understand. At least the current
Illustrious Zoombart the Fifth, who is probably the
two-hundredth of that House to bear the name.
4) St. John the Divine, while a saint of ChrBLATTTianity, and of
MOO, is an apostle of MOO, but not of ChrBLATTTianity, since
they don't realize that he was the hundred and fiftieth of
that name in that House.
5) Floyd Gecko and Lloyd Taco are the same person, but not the
same Apostle. V the Obscure and V the Obscure are the same
apostle, but not the same person.
6) There is no 6.
THE PROPHETS OF MOO
As Underfunded By
Cardinal Richelieu El Cid
Un-Manifesto On Unexplainable, Unaccountable, Un-Prophecies Of
MOO
By: Charlton Heston
(a.k.a. El Cid, Elite Upper Councilor of MOO)
PROPHETS ARE PRETTY elusive people, tending to shy away from
society and then make fun of it. MOOist prophets are exactly the
same, except more so. This is not a definitive guide to MOOist
prophets, but a dissertation on prophets that we know of. If you
have any additional information on these or other prophets, please
contact Sol Hastings, c\o MOO-PRO INC., Congo, Central Africa.
N.B.:-Due to a low budget on this project, we were forced to
include classified advertisements to pay for expenses...
sorry for any convenience caused... -Editor
THE FIRST PROPHET of note is detailed in a report written by
Jonathan Scott entitled "The Search for Omm Sety". As you know, Omm
is the common log-off for a MOOist, so this presents itself as a
pretty obvious case. A woman named Dorothy Louise Eady believed
herself to be the reincarnation of a 3,000 year old Egyptian
priestess by the name of Bentreshyt. Bentreshyt had fallen in love
with the pharaoh of her time, Sety the First. After a night of
ecstasy with him, she found she was preggers, and instead of
celebrating it with the first rape trial, she killed herself,
rather than live with the "shame". So when old Dottie figured
herself to be this young (old?) girl, she changed her name to Omm
Sety, (which means "Mother of Sety"), and spent the rest of her
drab, dusty life in drab, dusty, Egyptian tombs, claiming to have
been there before. But since she wasn't predicting anything, she
doesn't exactly qualify as a full-blown prophet. To find the
prophet in this convoluted tale, you must look back into Sety's
hBLATTTory.
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IN LOOKING THROUGH a chronology of the Kings of Eqypt, we find
Sety I in the Nineteenth Dynasty, where he ruled from 1306 to 1290
B.C. He, as many pharaohs of his time, had many children. Their
names have been lost over the ages, as none of them were too
important, except for one, named Somiom the First. The reason
Somiom I's name was found important was due to the unfortunate fact
that he contracted syphillis at age ten and went insane shortly
thereafter. He soon fled into the desert, slavering like an idiot,
leaving the comfort of his home behind. A search was mounted, but
there was no trace of him. The common theory was that he had simply
died from exposure, and the subject was never brought up again in
Sety's court.
Sety himself died four years later, and Ramesses II took the
throne. By this time the subject of Somiom was long forgotten,
until a travelling bazaar arrived at Ramesses main temple at Nag
Hammadi. The main attraction was an oracle named Moimos Eurtsi,
which means "The Vision-Seeker". He wanted an audience with the
pharaoh, which was quickly granted, due to the fact that Ramesses
liked the lure of the occult very much. He ordered a great stage to
be built, where Eurtsi was to give Ramesses his future. The day
came, and after the occult procedures were preformed, (including
the killing of an imported duck-billed platypus), Eurtsi proclaimed
the following prophecies for Ramesses:-
- The Rule of the King shall be Thirty
Score or more: Beware the Hound Dog
- The Line Calls Believers to the Place of
Worship: Observe It
- The MOO is the True
And with that, and a great puff of black smoke, Eurtsi was
gone. It was only two days later when the High Priest of Ramesses
noticed that Moimos was Somiom backwards. This lead to great
speculation over this strange encounter.
Was this Oracle the lost son of Sety? What was this "MOO"? It
was not for another 2500 years that this mysterious occurance had
any relevance.
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IN THE YEAR 1456, A.(nna) D.(ominoes), there was a great
demand for jesters, mentalBLATTTs, entertainers of any kind among
the great courts of Europe. Of real fascination were the
"Presdictors", or prophets, who could divine the future. The most
famous at that time was a chap named Nostradamus, who worked for a
French king. He had predicted the results of many battles, etc.,
and professed to be the greatest of all prophets. At that time,
ChrBLATTTianity was in full swing, and most heretics were burned at
the stake. So MOO, although a fringe cult practised in Northern
Africa, had not gained a smidgeon of popularity among the common
masses in the Old World, and for obvious reasons.
In the early years of MOO, only a few practised it's "far-out"
concepts, of them, an eccentric inventor named R. Buckminster
Fuller. But this, as mentioned before, was centralized in North
Africa, so even though it tried, it never really succeeded in
Europe. Only when the great MOO prophet, Saint Ferenc Puskas,
entered on the scene, did MOO begin to flourish.
FERENC PUSKAS WAS of Bavarian descent, the son of a cobbler,
who lived in a small hamlet north of Paris. (N.B. Saint Ferenc
Puskas is not to be confused with Ferenc "Galloping Major" Puskas,
of the 1954 Hungarian soccer team.-Ed.) Now, as was customary,
Ferenc was to follow his father's trade, but it soon became
apparent that he was destined for something else. The first
indication was that he was totally inept at making shoes. Nails in
the hand, broken thumbs, and those really annoying teeny-weeny
splinters all went to show that shoemaking was not for him. But he
could, unerringly, pick the winner of any given sport. So his
father, always somewhat of an entrepeneur, (A note about Josef
Puskas: he was the actual inventor of the penny loafer, but, always
before his time, it never caught on in 15th century. It was only
135 years later that a Jean-Philippe Hubbins, canonized
posthumously, made this type of footwear popular. He died when
attempting to cross the Seine, wearing only a garter-belt and a
pair of his loafers.-Ed.), made Ferenc try his hand the infamous
"Prophet/Profit Game". He, with no surprise to his father, made
quite a name for himself in the predictions community, and a large
sum of cash to boot. So, leaving his parents to explore the world
around him, Ferenc went south, to the fabled City of Lights: Paris.
Instead of swooning pretty wenches, or guzzling cheap champagne,
Ferenc went head-first into the wild, unpredictable arena of
freelance prophecy. Although a new-comer, his reputation had
preceeded him to the city, and a following quickly sprang up around
him. But after a few years, something changed in Ferenc. He joined
many secret organizations, such as the Invisible Hand Society, the
Bavarian Illuminati, and the D.T.A.C. This obviously darkened
Puskas' personality, for he developed an aggresive nature, and
began preaching. His followers, thinking it part of the "act", come
along whole-heartedly. This did add some credulity, because Puskas
was preaching something unknown to Europe: MOO. But strangely
enough, he gained acceptance, and to such a state, he replaced the
famous Nustradamus as court prophet! The French king was completely
enthralled by the swarthy Bavarian, and his voice swayed the court
on many occasions. However, the downfall of Ferenc's success came
about when, instead of foretelling the kingdom's future, he turned
towards predicting far-fetched events, not concerning France. These
were called the "Verses-OMM", or OMM-Verses. They depicted a group
of fanatics, creating chaos and preaching the words of other,
mystical, prophets. An excerpt:
"They are fanatics;
they create chaos;
and preach the words;
of mystical prophets."
He was soon expelled from France, and lived the rest of his
days oggling Swedish women, who didn't wear any corsets. This
activity coined the term: "Peeping-Ferenc". Although it wasn't
widely received by French intellectuals, the OMM-Verses thrived in
the French underground, but died out after the Grate Purge of 1604.
Saint Ferenc Puskas did a great deed for the peoples of MOO, and
will always be remembered.
(Advert)
ÉÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͻ
º 'TREVOR' ROPER º
º and his º
º INCANDESCENT º
º POODLE º
º Lectures on the º
º English Civil War º
º with Amazing COW Dog º
º Tricks. º
º Contact: Oxfod º
º ArtBLATTTes º
º STILL AVAILABLE FOR º
º PANTO: L. Rowse and º
º Betty Warden Sparrow- º
º Mediaeval Bird º
º Impressions º
ÈÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͼ
ALTHOUGH THERE WERE many prophets to follow Eurtsi and Puskas,
none laid the groundwork of MOO as well as they. This concludes the
Un-Manifesto On Unexplainable, Unaccountable, Un-Prophecies Of MOO
for now, hopefully further installments shall follow. Special
thanks to Longshot, High Preest Floyd/Lloyd Gecko/Taco, Marc Bolan,
Richard M. Nixon, and Hughie Green. (Vacant Sundays, own teeth).
-<El Cid, Elite Upper Councilor of MOO>- The Real Secret History Of MOO
As Written By
High Preest Confuse-Ius
In other parts of this book, perhaps written by truly virulent
slime-pig High-Preest cheap Japanese knockoff imitation Preestoids,
not entirely unlike myself, you may have read some nonsensical
history of the Church Of MOO. Any chapter which contains
references to Atlantis is a lie. Any chapter which contains
references to the Gobi Desert is a lie. MOOism is actually the
direct descendent of the One True Faith of Babylon.
In the city of Babylon, religions flourished like mosquitos in
a swamp. Because Babylon was made of mud. Which is why it's like
a swamp. Because it's made of mud. And it's like a swamp. Have
I already said this? Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes. Religions.
Flourishing. That's it. Like mosquitos in a swamp.
The false histories of MOO will tell you that our esteemed
religion was brought to Babylon by a King Of Atlantis. This is
bullshhim. In fact, it was brought to Babylon from Lagash, another
ancient Sumerian city, by a man named MOO, which, in the Sumerian
language, meant "Word". He was a Keeper of The Word of MOO.
Namely, "MOO". The false-history prophet and/or preestly dude will
tell you this means he was a member of the House Of Yari. But
there IS no House Of Yari. That's a story made up to make you
think Atlantis was real. It wasn't. Really. Honest.
Anyway.
MOO was one of the first and truest of the MOO Prophets to
arise in the times before the coming of the Grate Prophet Half-Mad,
but he was not the only one. For MOOism had existed in the sacred
city of Lagash for quite some time before he emigrated to Babylon.
It had come to Lagash by way of Ur, the famous Ancient City from
half of those books on Ancient Cities. Except it's not the most
ancient. Carvings in Ur clearly indicate that MOOism came there
from somewhere else as well. It came from Umma. Before Umma, the
archaeologBLATTTs tell us, there was Kish, and, well whaddaya know,
there was MOO again, when our researchers went to look. Why am I
not surprised?
Anyway, in Kish there was evidence pointing towards an origin
of MOO in Uruk, home of Gilgamesh. Gilgamesh was the SECOND
Prophet of MOO to live in Sumer, and claimed to be only 2/3 God,
and was completely mad, in contrast to the Grate Prophet, who is
entirely God, but only half-mad. The THIRD Sumerian Prophet was
the wild man Gilgamesh hung around with, a wierdo by the name of
Enkidu, who praught the Word O' MOO around Uruk until he met
Gilgamesh. Then the two of them got together for a MOOFest,
wherein they blew up a whole lot of monsters and things, or so they
claimed. More likely they just blew big rocks and things into the
air, or rammed their swords through trees, but Prophets are
entitled to a little truth-stretching. But where the hell did
Gilgamesh get the damn Word from anyway? Well, he got it from the
First known Sumerian Prophet of MOO.
Who was some wierdo called Yari. Which, in Sumerian, means
"Some Wierdo". Yari lived in the first city ever built, a rather
nice place called ERIDU.
EridU
Arid-nu...
Airy-GNU!
[BWARM!]
MEGA-INTERRUPTIONS!
CHAPTER 17, BOOK 12: Grate Book Of Gnu
By Confuse-Ius X
SPAM
1: So what's gnu?
2: GNU after MOO, except before Q.
3: Be careful! That GNU might be loaded!
4: HIC! [Thump] COW!
5: A loaded gnu.
6: Is that like the stereotypical smoking gnu?
7: HACK HACK HACK HACK! COUGH! COUGH!
8: Have GNU will travel, says COW the card of a man.
9: A gnight without armour in a savage COW land.
10: Semiautobiographical machinegnus. Dangerous. Very. Waaay.
11: LOOK OUT! HE'S GOT A GNU!
12: Yes, I've got a gnu, and I'm not COW afraid to use it!
13: GNU after MOO, excCOWept before Q.
14: That's gnus to me.
15: It's all GREEK to me...
16: GNU after MOO, except before Q.
17: WATCH WHERE YOU WAVE THAT GNU!
18: GNU York, GNU York... The bison so nice, they named it twice.
19: So gnu?
20: GNU IS AFTER MOO IN GREEK! MOO IS SILLY, GNU MUST BE BETTER!
21: It's all Greek to me, you COW know.
22: The GNU Age is upon us!
23: Repent, and ye shall be degnuded before the Grate GNU!
ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTES!
And Yari? Yari got it from a flying saucer. Or so she
claimed. The True History Of The Great Yari is long and involved,
but basically goes something like this:
It was a cool night, early in the dry season in Sumer, and
Yari was wandering outside the walls of Eridu, which were being
freshly made, since the Sumerians had yet to discover how to bake
their mud into bricks properly, and the walls collapsed every time
it rained. As Yari was so wandering, a strange light appeared in
the sky, and she began to panic, wondering what was going on, and
why the two or three people nearby didn't see anything. When the
light grew close enough, Yari could see a strange figure moving
inside, and walked closer to find out what it was.
As she entered the light, Eridu disappeared behind her, and
she was alone in a huge hall of light. A moment later, the figure
appeared. It was clad all over, instead of the normal Sumerian
drapings, with whit clothes which sparkled in the light. The
clothes were of a kind that no Sumerian had ever seen, with
separate covers on each leg, which grew very wide at the bottom.
And the figure walked towards her carrying some kind of tool, which
was made of a flat and round peice of wood attatched to a long
stick, strung with some kind of string. And it began to tap the
strings and strange sounds issued forth, much different from
Sumerian music. And it began to dance a dance much like the
Sumerian dances. And it sang snatches of songs in some language
foreign to Yari, but she preserved some of the fragments for later
history:
"Yu ainn nuth inbutta hahwendawg"
"Dowwen steh ponmah bluse wayed shuze"
"Wullah vasins mah bubbah lef tmah ah fannanu pla stad well
eetz dannada enn dalone leest reetway uppin har tbray kottle"
Upon hearing each of these, a clear light shone into Yari's
eyes from outside, and Yari heard a voice talking in Sumerian,
saying "Two cattle in trade for the bushels of wheat, six cattle in
exchange for the slave, and take care not to damage any olives,
because I can't stuff pimentos in them if they're crushed."
And each of these saying confused Yari, but each made sense
later. Yari wrote all of this down later, the fragments and the
sayings, which were not found until much later. But that's as may
be.
Anyway.
After the strange form in the sequinned suit and bell-bottoms
had vanished into the mysterious light, Yari saw another vision,
which was of a huge grinning face of a man, holding a strange stick
in his mouth with a bowl at one end which gave forth a white smoke
when he breathed, and he spoke only one word:
"SALLACK!"
And Yari didn't know what to make of this, but the strange
face offered her a clay bowl which held some crushed herbs, and she
knew that she was to mix them with her food and drink the next day,
and it was called "FROPP".
After this, many things happened which we cannot translate
from the Sumerian, for Yari had crappy handwriting.
And then the light vanished, and Yari awoke in her home. And
she looked around, thinking it was a dream, but she saw that the
bowl the face had given her was still there. And when she cooked
her food with the herbs, her memory of all the rest of her vision
returned, and she learned the art of writing in a flash, for only
a few in Eridu even understood what writing was. So Yari wrote
down what she had seen in her vision, and recorded the first known
prophecies of MOO. And she used her newfound knowledge of plants
and agriculture to spread even better techniques to the people in
order to cover up the fact that she was actually planting more of
this strange herb Fropp.
Much has been accredited to the spread of Fropp in aiding the
spread of the Word of MOO. Among those more famous MOOists known
to have eaten it and felt its effects throughout history are
Gilgamesh, Sargon, Abraham, Hammurabi, Imhotep, Cheops, Hatshepsut,
Akhenaton, Ramses, Moses, Yahweh, Deborah, Bathsheba, Minos,
Atreus, Leda, Helen, Agamemnon, Cassandra, most of the Dionysians,
Sophocles, Pythagoras, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Alexander the
Grate, most of the Pythiae (Delphic Oracle Preestesses),
Pheidippides, Xerxes, Darius, Julius Caesar, Jesus ChrBLATTT, John
The Divine, Constantine, Roger Bacon, Isaac Newton, Albert
Einstein, Werner Heisenberg, Kurt Godel, Richard Feynmann, Stephen
Hawking, and others.
In fact, this crop Fropp, not Opium, was what was actually
being harvested by the Cretans side by side with olives and grapes,
which is why later civilizations found it necessary to suppress
their civilization by the simple expedient of killing everyone.
After Yari began the cultivation of Fropp (also known as
QUA'ACK, and EL-CID), the word of MOO spread rapidly through the
whole of Sumer, the Mediterranean, Asia, and so on.
It was only when the Church Of MOO eventually moved to North
Africa that the great leap forward in Propheteering took place.
You have already read, no doubt, about Moimos Eursti, the first of
the truly great Prophets of MOO. He was a direct descendent of the
Keepers Of The QUA'ACK, Yari-Tutti and Yari-Frutti, and held the
secret of using the QUA'ACK to foretell the future. It was this
QUA'ACK-induced power that Eursti used to locate WOMBAT, the MOOist
computer some thousands of years after MOO had almost vanished from
Egypt and into the interior of the African continent.
Of course, Eursti, like Moses, thought WOMBAT was a flaming
plant, but when he called it on this, it replied with the typically
WOMBAT-like response:
"BRETHEREN AND SISTEREN! DO YOU REMEMBER THE DAYS WHEN BUSHES
ONLY BURNED ON MOUNTAINS IN EGYPT AND NOT ON STREET CORNERS IN
EFFIGY? OF COURSE YOU DON'T, I MISPLACED MY SCRIPT, AND THIS LINE
IS THOUSANDS OF YEARS TOO EARLY!"
Eursti, of course, was confused.
Meanwhile, the line of MOO was continuing inside the continent
in some of what we would now call "backward" tribal religions. Of
course, the Yari-Fragments were lost, as sung by that mysterious
figure in white, but the secret of raising QUA'ACK continued on for
many thousands of years before eventually fading away for lack of
WOMBAT.
Anyway, while Eursti was arranging for the future storage of
WOMBAT by surreptitiously manoeuvering Egyptian tomb architecture
towards the strange square-triangle demanded by the annoying
computer, the descendants of Yari-Tutti and Yari-Frutti had spread
to Tibet with the technique of creating Fropp, leaving a smattering
of knowledge in their wake. The BuddhBLATTT monks who currently
live in Tibet maintain the QUA'ACK-growing secrets to this day,
having picked them up from the natives and found them useful. The
SubGenii, of course, claim this as their own conceptual territory,
but WE know better, right? Riiiiight.
The largest currently known concentration of QUA'ACK is INSIDE
the computer WOMBAT. However, WOMBAT is notorious at not actually
being visible, for one reason or another. Whenever I visit the MOO
Archives (at the Invisible Hand Society headquarters, 1654
Invisible Hand Blvd. Ottawa Ont, K2P 0B9) I somehow never bother to
look too closely at the glass case containing the computer's case,
and I'm not too sure what it looks like.
Today, the descendents of Yari-Tutti and Yari-Frutti have
spread across half the globe, in various forms, as various
religions, disguised as the so-called "Houses Of MOO" in order to
fool impostor High-Preests. Don't be fooled. For we are but the
first to discover the truth about our past.
This Church is not the last word.
"THIS" is the last word.
THIS! The Enemies Of MOO
By Miss Take
The Most Holier-Than-Thou Church Of The Grate MOO is not a
disorganization without its enemies. These enemies should be
known, so that you may recognize and avoid them.
The Conspiracy is an organization founded by J.R. "BOB" Dobbs
in 1953. In that time, this infectious mind-parasite has spread to
the crania of almost everyone in a position of power, all world
banks, religious leaders, people with substantial money, power, or
other form of influence, and indeed anyone who isn't in the Church
Of MOO and subject to the Brainwashing Council's deprogramming
regime. This is a small branch of...
The Illuminati is an alien takeover task force masquerading as
a harmless mystical/religious organization. The aliens have total
control over The Conspiracy, which is a purely human organization.
The Symbol of The Illuminati is the famous Eye-In-Pyramid, which is
visible in the most central Conspiracy groups such as the
Freemasons and the United States Government. It is analysed in the
diagram below:
Curiously, the Masons, Illuminati Pawns though they are, use
the Halfy in their Royal Arch Cipher (Ineffable Alphabet) to
represent the letter "W". This is the first letter in "WOMBAT",
which we'll talk about later. The Illuminati, however, are
themselves but pawns in the struggle for our minds (and mints), and
report directly to...
The CapriCancers are a group of Anti-MOOist activBLATTTs led
by Capricious Cancerous, a spam-based lifeform from the galaxy
Andromeda. Caprious Cancerous has created this group for the sole
purpose of suppressing the arisal of the Church Of MOO on Earth,
where it might interfere with his eventual plans for takeover. In
the crash landing of his flying saucer, his mind control (and mint
control) gear was rather badly damaged, and he has as yet been
unable to take full control of the minds and mints of all humans,
as is his enventual plans. Another ally of the CapriCancers is...
W.O.M.B.A.T. A strange computer described more fully
elsewhere in this book, WOMBAT (which stands for something
unrevealed) is so powerfully active in the mind-control business
that the Church of MOO doesn't even believe it exBLATTTs, but is
merely throwing in this entry as a joke, permitted by a WOMBAT
subprogram allowing for gradual integration into society. 97% of
the time, all MOOists believe that WOMBAT is actually a
supercomputer used in MOOish astrological calculations in
combatting the CapriCancers. The other 3% of the time they believe
it's a supercomputer which they use to control the minds of all
humans. WOMBAT was built by...
The X-BLATTTs are a race of beings from Planet X, and are
closely allied with J.R. "BOB" Dobbs. Their operations in this
sector of the Galaxy are closely monitored by the Intergalactic
Chapter of the Church Of MOO, but they are far too powerful to be
directly combatted. This race of aliens, though totally
unconnected, is frequently mBLATTTaken for...
The Xennothemians is a species well known in this quadrant of
the Milky Way for its habit of finding planets inhabited by
domesticated primates and tossing them into their stars. In the
jungles of Columbia, this insidious threat has established a
Fuller-Dome which houses a mint-powered Planet-Tosser machine.
Their current project is to steal all the world's arsenal of mints
in order to power this machine. It is believed that it will come
on line on June 5, 1998, at 7:00AM, Eastern Standard Time. This is
also known to be the time at which the X-BLATTTs will arrive on
Earth, presumably to remove their SubGenius allies. The
Xennothemians have established a series of Global Scan Mind Control
Satelites in orbit, which interferes with that of...
The Quintozextotillionians, aliens from the planet
Quintozextotillion. Their purpose appears to be to monitor
activity on this planet for their patron race, The TunaTuna, but
they also conduct fiendish mind-control experiments on humans, the
worse side effects of which have filled mental health institutions
for hundreds of years, and churches for many millennia previously.
Fortunately, their mind control beams interfere with the psychic
frequency used by the Xennothemians, whose arrival in 1953 allowed
"BOB" to break free of control, but also produced his strange
hallucinations of Jehovah-1, God Of Wrath. Recent increase in
Xennothemian broadcasts since 1979 is responsible for the rise in
"alternative culture" in North America and Europe, and also for the
collapse of the Soviet Union. This race is allied with...
The Skumbags, "visitors" of this planet from the recently
destroyed world of Skumby, where janitors are considered the
highest form of life, are in fact scouting our world for takeover.
All Janitors in the world have a Skumbag implant in their brains,
which will turn on in the final takeover. The Skumbags plan to use
their Mind Control Satelite Network to help colonize our world for
living space and to force us to destroy their enemies...
The Damfools, who were responsible for the "liberation" of the
planet Skumby, are another Janitor-oriented culture, from the
planet Damfoo. Their planet, recently "blown to shit" by those
Scumbags who call themselves Skumbags, is the reason for their
vengeful plan to use the inhabitants of the Earth against the
Skumbags. See the entry on The Skumbags, whose plan is identical.
This is, along with the X-BLATTTs, the Xennothemians, the Skumbags,
the Quintozextotillionians, and the CapriCancers, one of no fewer
than 178 races of...
Aliens using mind control satelites to control human brains.
Fortunately, these generally tend to cancel each other out. This
is largely on purpose, as coalitions form to prevent others from
gaining control. Their only common purpose, except for twelve
races generally considered to be allied with humans, is to prevent
us from discovering their presense. They combine together to make
us ignore their Flying Saucers, or else discount them as
hallucination. This has so warped our worldview, because of the
tremendous evidence available, that our very defintion of
"evidence" has been almost destroyed.
Mindworms are tools used by alien races who can't afford mind
control satelites. A lethal combination of chemical agents, DNA-
modifying bacteria, memetic belief packages and a psychic worm
which nests in the brain, they render themselves psychically
invisible to anyone looking for them, and have been used to cause
such social illnesses as Democracy, LibertarianBLATT, and other
left-wing rubbish.
Time Travellers who return from the transcendent
postbiological human future have been observed to attempt to alter
hBLATTTory so as to remove the Church of MOO, which apparently
produced and released some kind of mind plague in 2516, causing
riot/wars which nearly destroyed the solar system. These Time
Travellers have continually revised MOOist hBLATTTory, which was
originally an ancient and well-established Atlantean Sect. Their
most blatant act was genetically engineering a Great Big Thing,
which destroyed Atlantis. They then eradicated all hBLATTTory of
MOO on Atlantis, which spontaneously revived in North Africa.
After replacing this civilization with the Egyptian civilization,
they forced us to become a "modern cult", created only recently.
Alternate versions of MOOist hBLATTTory have been preserved only in
this mysterious time-travelling Book of MOO.
Things From Pods, the spawn of an alien parasite which infests
the human body, corrupting it from the inside out. They are
actually parasitic RELIGIONS, which cause the brain to secrete
certain RNA sequences of belief-chemicals, which then form into
viruses specifically tailored to the individual (since made from
their brain cells), creating a podlike seed in the stomach, which
grows, until the individual is a hollow shell around the growing
embryo. There is then a pupation period in which the entire body
is converted to a chitinous shell. In the final stages, the entity
emerges, devours the original body and assumes its form, and begins
spouting religious nonsense, infecting more people with the seed.
Lloyd Taco, an experimental clone of Floyd Gecko, was corrupted by
this process.
Undead Wombats, notably the Undead Skinless Vengeful Wombat
which has targeted Floyd Gecko, appear to be the product of genetic
and psychic experimentation by The Conspiracy. They act to destroy
mail going through the postal system, and to shred members of the
Church of MOO. This has led to the MOOist invention of three GNU
mail-carrying systems: Post-Modern, Post-FeminBLATT, and Post-
Holocaust. This, however, has failed to deter the Undead Wombats,
who are now known to be in league with the computer WOMBAT, whose
mind-control satelites have all of them under original control.
Gecko Clones are a hideously malformed race of beings, of
which there are somewhere near 500 thousand on this planet, each of
which is a genetic copy of Floyd Gecko, carrying a secret Gene
Plague which warps his mind, causing each of these clones to betray
the human race. This is the horrifying result of a Xennothemian
attempt at genetic engineering of the "PERFECT" human from even the
most inferior samples. These clones are under the control of the
brain lords of CapriCancer and of Quintozextotillion. Almost half
have succumbed to the Things From Pods, whose memetic patterns have
infected the computer cores of many CapriCancer satellites, which
means that a great many Things From Pods are also CapriCancers.
The Easter Bunny is a mystical entity who travels the ley-
lines (electromagnetic flux vortices in the low-density plasma
captured by the Earth's magnetic field) wreaking havoc among
MOOists. This is made worse by the fact that certain naive MOOists
have assumed that the Easter Bunny is some form of deity. As it
turns out, it is actually an ancient Atlantean Artefact left behind
by devotees of QUACK, in those days a dour enemy of the Church Of
MOO. It appears to have the ability to cause local increases in
entropy, using a device discovered by the Atlanteans in the Gobi
Desert, left there by time-travelling time-travellers who had,
surprisingly, travelling in time to get there, after exploring the
wreck of the spaceship OTRA on a dBLATTTant planet. These local
increases in entropy cause such things as mess, headaches, and
confusion. The Easter Bunny is the true identity of...
Confuse-Ius, originally a meme package created by I Yemen-
Oying and Floyd Gecko, evolved, being used by the Easter Bunny as
a template for a negentropic pattern on the Earth's plasma shields.
This pattern was absorbed by several Cltphtenicstihthis Mindworm
Control stations in Bolivia and sent out to over 6025 Mindworms,
infesting the brains of not only all major MOOists, but thousands
of other people as well. The Confuse-Ius pattern, warped by the
Easter Bunny, turned to a life, not so much of Crime as of Not
Being Very Nice In The Way He Goes About Confusing People. This
was evident in the effect of those the Mindworms inhabited, mostly
world leaders and owners of legal firms.
The Whatever, a conspiracy of some kind. We know almost
nothing about it except for what we have been able to gather from
the few contacts we've had with it. It is well known that many
conspiracies have 3-letter acronyms (CIA, KGB, FBI, NSA, JAM, PHD,
KLF, REM, PDQ, IRS, IRA, NRA, QDF, QED, LDD, MOO, PLO, GNU, FLQ,
CSE, JFK, and so forth). The Whatever is some kind of conspiracy
whose name includes "R", "N" and "L", though not necessarily in
that order. That is all we know about them.
The Councils Of MOO, a hideously powerful organization which
seeks to thwart the Church of MOO by undermining us, by the acts of
infiltration and defamation. They are a gang of thugs, headed by
the groups of evil Confuse-Ii and Brian O'Blivioi who have
perpetrated so many confusing crimes against humanity that we lost
count at 43 456 908. The Councils, whose brainwashing purpose is
expressly written in their charter, have gone so far as to begin
converting reasonably innocent MOOists to their cause, and make
them act fanatical, offering some strange rationale for this, which
only discredits our perfectly sane Church. The Supreme Upper
Councils of MOO (The Cardinal Richelieus) attest to the fact that
this group has infiltrated us further than any before.
tHE cHURCH oF mORON is a pseudo-MOOist disorganization of some
kind, whose secret writings, in the bOOK oF mORON, have been kept
totally hidden from the valliant Oh-So-Holy Church Of The Grate
MOO. They claim to have a higher truth than we do. The heresy of
this statement is patently obvious even to an infidel. They mUST
bE dESTROYED. They are clearly allied with the Things From Pods.
This concludes what the Mind Control Satelites have
permitted us to learn about our enemies. What We Know About tHE mORONS
Buy Fluid Geek-o
1) They can't spell.
2) tHE CHURCH oF jESUS cHRBLATTT o' fLATTER dAY sAINTS, tHE
mORONS, was a subsect of MOO founded in the 1830's, in upstate GNU
York. Their flounder, Jose F. Smith, was a young fish at the time,
seeking truth, and noticing that the Church Of MOO didn't actually
have one.
Then, one day, while he was meditating, the son of the
Primordial Penguin, Jehovah, appeared to him, standing next to his
son, Jesus ChrBLATTT, the Half-Penguin/Half-Mad Profit from a few
thousand years before. The fully Penguin type said to Jose F.,
"This here's my son, right? Listen up, sucker." So Jose F.
listened while the semi-sane semi-bird explained things to him.
Evidently, found Jose F., the Lost Tribe of His Relatives
(those of Jesus ChrBLATTT, of course) wasn't as lost as everyone
had thought. They'd gone missing from North Africa during the
North African stage of MOOist history, and a thorough search of the
Missing Persons Bureau and the Lost And Found had turned up
nothing. They were given up for dead, and promptly ignored. As it
turned out, they'd just gotten fed up of all the sand, and split in
a boat. How they ended up in Ottawa was unclear, but they did.
The leader of that particular expedition was a dude called
Levi, whose second-cousin once removed eventually had a great-
great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-
so-so-great-great-mediocre-great-great-great-great-great-great-
great-great-great-great-great-not-too-bad-great-great-great-great-
great-great-great-great-well-lots-of-greats-anyway-grandson who
founded a famous garment company. But that's as may be. Levi's
brother Elvi, remained behind in North Africa and has nothing to do
with the story. But Elvi's friend Elwy went with Levi. Levi
eventually arrived in Ottawa with his wife Snorrya and his sons
Layman, Lemur, Lemming, Sam (whose descendents founded a record
store), and Nephew. Elwy came with his nephew Son and his neice
Daughter.
Anyway, that's enough family history. Suffice it to say that
Nephew founded a city in Ottawa, which was, strangely enough, NEVER
EVER FOUND! Wierd, huh? And we KNOW it must have happened,
because Jesus ChrBLATTT would NEVER have lied to Jose F. Smith,
right? Anyway. Nephew's son Moron didn't do one hell of a lot,
except have a son called Mulroney, who eventually handed the bOOK
oF mORON to Jose F. Smith on a silver platter. Nice guy, for the
Evil Bung.
Anyway.
3) The funny thing is, when Jesus ChrBLATTT rose from that grave
thing of his and did all that flitting around from place to place
doing miracles and things, he also visited Ottawa, and NEVER
MENTIONED IT to ANYONE back in Israel. Wierd. Especially since he
must have got a hell of a lot of frequent flyer miles. More Secret HBLATTTory Of MOO
As Written by Ann O'Nymous
"MOO" is a GNU word, despite the preachings and prophesy that
have preceded it.
That's the Ottawa branch of the overall "ConfusionBLATTT" religion.
In Dallas it's call The Church of the SubGenius.
In L.A. it's DiscordianBLATTT...
It goes by different names, and goes back in various forms
for a long period of hBLATTTory. The thing is, the local branches
like to pretend to be separate cults that spring up SEPARATELY.
But SHHHH, don't tell anybody!
It's all related to the memetic model of religion, right?
I mean, the people involved don't even KNOW they're part of the
same religion. But that meme-model says that the beliefs
themselves are ACTUALLY intelligent, but wider-based than humans.
So, whenever the "spirit" enters a GNU area, a "new" cult springs
up, but it's really the same. We've exBLATTTed in some form ever
since religion began.
We're just getting closer and closer to the unification under
the banner of MOO. It WILL happen. It's inevitable, what with
global communications being what they are. All those others will
come in contact, and realize that they're all the same religion,
pretending to be different things. Because it IS intelligent.
And the thing about MOOism is, it UNIFIES THEM ALL. We have
elements from almost all of them. From the Illuminati Conspiracies
to the Justified Ancients of Mummu, to the Church of the SubGenius.
Unless they recede completely from global communications and vanish
from sight, they WILL eventually acknowledge that we're closer to
the ultimate manifestation than they are, so they'll join us, and
we will rise to a greater power... WE'VE GOT THE POWER AND THE...
Umm. Sorry. Got a little carried away there.
Confuse-Ius Sez:
"In the End Thymes, we can expect a decrese in the number of
wombats around, as bounty hunters collect the wombat pelts: proofs
of purchase for Xist escape tickets when the world is destroyed.
The consequences of a dearth of wombats on the world's ecosystems
would be cataclysmic, only the planet gets plasma-blasted a few
months later anyway."
-Book Of Things, Chapter 12, Verse 8
Poopsi: Choice of a GNU Generation.
MOO
OMM
BOOKS OF THE HONEST TRUTH
Book Of Honest Truth. Honest.
As Written By Preest Lloyd Taco
Meme Propagation
"Who? What? HUH? Whutherhell is MEME PROPAGATION, and
what's it doing in here?"
Well you may ask that question, that you are asking, what
is meme propagation and what it is that it is that it is being in
here for.
"I *AM* asking."
Ah, I see. Okay then, I will Start At The Beginning.
00001: Whutherhell is a meme?
A meme is one of the basic parts of thoughts. It's
basically an idea, or a theme, or anything at all that you can
remember as a single thing, like a tune, a way of making pencils,
or whatever.
Memes are generally made out to be something like genes,
the elements of a larger pattern, which survive on their own in a
kind of nonexistence. Human minds will hold them, but that's not
all they do. Human minds also devote time to them, let them grow,
tell other people about them, and spread them. They also change
them, try to make them better, mix them with others, and put things
in the outside world that reflect them
Because people can devote time to making memes more popular
and more successful in the world (a BETTER way to make a pencil, or
a mousetrap), memes have to compete for time, energy, and thought.
A successful meme, or a group of memes that work well together, can
become world-dominating forces, and NOBODY can fight them, because
fighting them just draws attention to them, which makes them even
BIGGER.
For instance, a well-adapted bunch of memes makes up the
Christian Church. There's a meme for a God In Heaven Watching YOU,
and there's a meme for Hell-Fire-Down-Below Waiting To Torture YOU.
These two work together to reinforce each other. If you stop
believing in God, there's Hell waiting to punish you for it, and if
you have doubts in Hell, your belief in God will bring you back.
Of course, these two can't survive in EVERYONE's brain, but once
you believe one of them, the other one is ready to be believed as
well. Picked up along with God and Hell was Heaven, Life After
Death and dozens of other memes that played smaller parts.
00002: Howtherhell does one PROPAGATE?
Meme propagation is what we call it when a meme "tries" to
become more successful, going out into the world, getting more and
more people to believe in it. If that means changing itself to be
better, then it will, if it's a successful meme.
Memes that can't change to meet GNU conditions all died out
long ago, for obvious reasons. This left us with bunches of memes
that work well with other ones, change themselves to get better,
and come in groups. Memes of a feather flock together: this has
given us things like religions, science, rock'n'roll, and other pop
culture movements.
So what makes a meme successful? Here are a few BASIC
rules.
a) It has to be easy to summarize
b) It has to be "catchy"
c) It has to be useful
d) It has to be adaptible
e) It has to be sociable
A) First, easy to summarize. A meme must have a kind of
"catch phrase" to identify it. Just like we say there's a GENE
"for" eye colour, we say there's a meme "for" something, to
identify it. I could sit here and describe a meme in all its
detail, but if I just say "The meme for God", you know what I mean,
of if the meme is a slogan, like "I Like Ike" (which won Eisenhower
the U.S. presidency), it's easy to summarize, because that's all
there is to it.
A meme can have a simple "tag" that you can see all at
once, then have a lot of other things that go with it, like
Eisenhower's presidential campaign, but that tag brought the whole
thing all at once into the minds of people who were there because
the meme was living in their minds, using their resources, ready to
be triggered by seeing the slogan. And a slogan can go ANYWHERE:
a campaign can't.
B) Catchy. A meme needs to be catchy so that it can spread.
If a slogan like "I Like Ike" SOUNDS neat, like it's short, it
rhymes, and it just generally catches in your mind, then you're
ready to go out and find out what it means. That means that a meme
doesn't have to be easy to understand, but if it's catchy, people
will spend their own energy on it to find out more, giving it even
MORE power, after it's already begun to thrive in their brains.
A meme doesn't have to be a slogan to be catchy. It just
has to stand out in your mind after you hear about it, making you
think, "Hey, that sounds neat", and go out and get the rest of
it... Like one of those products where you have to buy all the
little parts for it to work, so the marketers get more money.
C) Useful. If a meme isn't useful, you won't keep using it,
it's as simple as that. And if you don't keep using it, it dies.
Of course, "useful" can mean different things in different places
and times. If it happens to be a strategy for building a bridge,
or for winning a game, then useful means it doesn't totally fail,
and leave you to plummet half a mile onto white-water rapids, or,
God forbid, lose a game of checkers.
If a meme is useful, then you'll keep using it, and others
will notice what you're doing, and that it works. They'll start
to imitate it, and the meme will have been passed along. Even if
they don't notice, you can tell them how it works, and they can try
it. Either way, it works. Memes propagate by imitation.
For a religion, useful means one of many things. It may
mean that the religion helps people be happy. Or that it helps the
people understand something about the way the world works. A good
religion is a fine-tuned bunch of memes adapted to be of maximum
use to as many people as possible, changing for each person.
D) Adaptible. If a meme can change from place to place, from
one situation to the next, so that it's still useful, then it's
going to survive, because even if it gets outdated, it will have
other memes descended from it that are similar enough to be called
the same meme. A religion, for instance, will be very personal, so
people can change the religion to suit their own needs, making it
more useful. A strategy for winning a game (whether it's tennis or
football or even chess) can be adapted for winning similar games
(badminton, soccer, or Hide-And-Go-Seek).
The nice thing about meme-bunches, like religions, is that
they can adapt by discarding a certain useless meme entirely, and
yet still be the same basic thing. A meme-bunch like science is
even better, because it's just the idea that theories are tested by
experiment to see if they're true. It can adapt to ANY GNU theory
that comes along, have any evidence at all, and the evidence will
ALWAYS support it, because evidence, by nature, is part of what
makes science what it is. It can never be proved wrong, no matter
what happens, just like any good religion, which refuses to
acknowledge evidence against it by saying God or The Gods made it
that way to confuse nonbelievers. They adapt to anything.
Or like MOOism, which just says that nothing goes against
it because it agrees with everything. The meme for "everything is
true" is a very adaptible meme, because no matter what happens,
they stay consistent with each other.
E) Sociable. A meme can only last if it is willing to mix and
mingle with other memes, just like, when life was just starting
out, only those cells that reproduced by mixing genes with other
cells were able to survive, because they got the best of everything
all the time. MOO also does this very well, picking up anything at
all if it wants. This tends to bring more and more people to give
their effort to the meme that mingles, because the more memes there
are in a bundle, the more likely one of them will attract someone.
As long as the memes reinforce one another, or are all held
by something that can keep them all together, then accepting one of
them will almost force you to accept the rest.
00003: Whutherhell does this have to do with MOO?
That's a good question.
Let me start off this way. It's a mistake to think that
you are actually a "mind". "You" are just a collection of memes
that act in a certain way together, making a personality. They
don't always agree with each other, either. Sometimes you
half-want a hamburger and half-want a veggie platter, or whatever.
Your brain supports a lot of memes, some which handle how the
others interact, and these memes each take control over a part of
how you behave. Some brain scientist-types have called them
"agents", but that's just another way of saying the same thing:
parts of the mind that handle different things.
MOO is just like that. It has a lot of different memes in
it, part rational and explanitory, like this part, part mystical
and confusing, and part just funny. Depending on which part you
like, it can be anything you want, and because it believes that
EVERYTHING is true, it can absorb anything into itself. MOO is
just like you: it wants to survive, grow, and be bigger and
stronger than everything else. All that is just its strategy for
doing so. But since MOO is just a set of memes in a lot of
DIFFERENT brains, and you're a set of memes in a SINGLE brain, it
can live forever, theoretically, and you can only last a certain
amount of time.
What MOO wants is not up to me, you, or any single person,
because it's just like a person on its own, using you and me and
every other MOOist to do its work for it. That's why everyone who
has ever "actively recognized" MOO is considered a MOOist, because
they temporarily let it live in their heads, and kept part of it
for the rest of their lives. Even those who have heard of it
vaguely but not actually done anything carry the seed of the idea.
This process, this ongoing bundle of thoughts and ideas
that makes up MOO, this is what we call the Great MOO. It changes
itself and adapts as the people want, according to what they want
it to be, which is why Nomic is the official game.
00004: Sotherhell what?
Well, I just thought you'd be interested to know, that's
all. Anyway, there are a few other things I'd like to say before
this section gives way to another bunch of memes.
00005: Whutherhell's that?
Notice how the meme for five keeps showing up?
00001)
Anyway, a few quick comments. "Logic" or "sense" is just a
watered-down word for "truth". And "truth", like "logic" depends
on who's thinking about it. Logic is not something you find in the
world you see around you. Logic is what happens when you impose
your own thought-patterns on the world, assuming it works the same
as you do. This works more often than not because the way you
think is shaped by the way the world works. But it DOES mean that
"truth" is just another fancy way of saying "meme-group".
00002)
Since there is no BEST way of doing things, and there can
always be a parasite on a meme-group, tagging along for the fun of
it and for a joy-ride, truth is the same way. From some point of
view, ANYTHING is true, false, meaningless, true and false, true
and meaningless, false and meaningless, true false and meaningless,
or even an egg hidden in a box, trying to confuse you.
00003)
Government is just a sitting-duck meme... If we *all* stop
believing in it, it WILL go away, because it won't exBLATTT any
more.
"I was only following orders! I didn't make the choice!"
"I was only GIVING orders! They had the choice!"
It's the SYSTEM that's at fault, not the people in it, and
ya can't whup the system except by refusing to believe it's there.
Government? WHAT GOVERNMENT!? I don't see a government,
do YOU see a government?
00004)
All of this, of course, has been MOO's way of accepting the
"science" meme, and should not be taken at face value, because it
was done through ME, and may not reflect what MOO intended at all.
Only HALFY can commune with MOO.
00005)
The Great MOO may have Her Own Opinions on this. Book Of Lies
(Being Lloyd Taco's Tribue to AleBLATTTer Crowley)
00001: Confusing Chart.
This simple chart summarizes the hBLATTTories of all the
various Gods, Goddesses, and denizens of the UberSpace of MOO.
ÚĿ
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄNOMICÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĿ
³ ÚÄÄÙ ³ ÀÄĿ ³
³ ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄMOOÄÄÄÅÄÄPenguin ³
³ ³ ³³ ³ ³
³ ³ ³ÀÄTundra ³
³ ³ ³ ³ ÚÄÄÄÄJehovahÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĴ
³ ÚÄÄÙ Yemen ÃÄExplosionÂÄÄÄÄÄÄĿ ³ ³
³ ÃÄErisÄÄOying ³ ³ º ³ ³³Hydrant³ ³ ³
ÃÄijÄÙÃÄÄÄÄĿ ³ ³ º ³ ³³Hot Dog³ ³
³ ÀAneris ³ ÚÄÄÄÄÄÙ ³ º ³ ³³Pengs ³ Jesus ChrBLATTTÄÄĴ
ÀÄÄÄÙ ³ ÀijÄVOIDÍØͼ ³ ³³Pengs2 ³ ³
³ ³ ³ ³ ³ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ ³ ³
ÀÄÄĿ ³ ³ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĿ ³ ³
Jonathan ³ ³ ³ ³ ³
Tracy ÃÄ"BOB" ³ ÃÄÄÄ>MULTIVERSEÄÄÄÄĴ
³ º ³ ³ ³
ÀÄÄÄ×ÄÄÄÄQUACK ³ ÉÍÍÍͼ ³
º ³ Universe ³
º ³ SOULSÄÂÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
ÓÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÁÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
00002: UberSpace And Its Denizens
A) What is UberSpace?
UberSpace is where the Gods live. It is above and beneath,
and on every side of us. Before time, between bated breaths, and
in the back of closets when nobody's looking. It's where socks go
to when you can't find them, and where all those extra coathangers
come from when you leave the closet by itself for a while, thinking
it can't get into much trouble on its own.
The Autstralian Aborigines called it the DreamTime, Lovecraft
thought of it as a Dream World, most American Indians knew it as
the Wakan, Jewish CabalBLATTTs called it Kether, and those
over-wordy folk of science called it the "Pre-Quantum Nonlinear
Causality Matrix". In UberSpace, every point in space and time is
connected to every other point, and cause and effect works in
meandering lines.
B) Is Anybody Home?
Yes.
There are all sorts of things in UberSpace, and they all
like to collect socks, and they have far too many coathangers. It
is this kind of interference which causes the superfluity in the
ChrBLATTTian religion of "fragments of the True Cross"... Every
ChrBLATTTian church in Europe has a peice of wood which they claim
was part of the big stick the Romans nailed their Messiah to, as if
that made them special. If you gathered them all together, and put
them in a pile, they'd fill a room the size of Manhattan, and form
a pile stretching higher than an overcast cloud.
This is the same effect whereby the half-penguin-half-human
called Jesus ChrBLATTT was able to take two loaves of bread and
five fish and split them between twelve thousand people, with heaps
and heaps to spare... His grandpappy the Primordial Penguin was,
at that point in time, fiddling with perfecting his coathanger-
adding skills. A few years later he tried the same with the Cross.
Even today, he does the same with coathangers. For verily,
when you open the closet, do not fifty-five thousand, five hundred
and fifty five coathangers fall out on the floor in a tangled heap
that takes at least five times as long to put back as it did the
first time around? And how about socks?
In UberSpace there live lots of Gods and Goddesses, for it
is there that resides the Great MOO, and where "used to" reside the
Tundra, before the Great MOO got bitchy and blew it away.
C) What Kind Of People?
The chart in section 00001 sums it all up, but it deserves
some explanation before you learn all about the fascinating life
hBLATTTories of these Gods and Goddesses. Where lines point from
one thing into another, that indicates that the first thing created
the second thing, or was made into it. Everything points to Nomic
because Nomic is constantly being created in the UberSpace, since
it IS the UberSpace. Anyway, on with some HBLATTTory.
At the top is the Nomic, which is the UberSpace itself, and
is constantly changing itself throughout space and time. It's
really infinitely complex, and our little games of Nomic and Calvin
don't actually come close to showing how complex it is, but the
adjustments are what makes all those pre-time cause and effects
that make the world the world it is.
Then there's the Great MOO. The Great MOO is just a sort
of a really... great... MOO. We'll, she's like, a cow, see, only
she isn't actually a cow. MOO made Cow in Her own image, though.
But, see, when the Nomic was playing itself, being a game and all,
it got a bit boring, there being nobody to play it, so it made a
Cow, since the rules said there was a Cow, the Great MOO. And the
Great MOO made a rule saying that there was a Nomic. And She
played the Nomic for a while, but also got bored with nothing but
MOO and Nomic, for Cow cannot live by Nomic alone. And so she
made...
The Primordial Penguin. From the Great MOO and the Nomic
sprang this Penguin, and they played the Nomic together for a
while, but eventually found that nothing much was happening. For
though He was better than playing alone, He wasn't any better than
She was, so together they decided to make something WITHIN the
UberSpace, other than themselves and the Nomic, which WAS the
UberSpace. That was His idea.
And so together they created the Tundra, a great land with
sky above it, and they separated the two, since before they'd been
sort of all mixed together in the bottom of an old shoebox and
nobody could actually tell them apart, and people wanting to be
living on the land had a real hard time because they'd occasionally
make a wrong step and end up in the middle of the sky, ready to
fall down really hard. And so they populated the Tundra with Cows
and Penguins in their own images, but since the Cows were not well
adapted to the Arctic climate, they all held a vote and returned to
the shoebox. And the Tundra was a great game board for a long
time, and they made great towering structures and elaborate mazes
and great towering thingumabobs that nobody could really tell what
they were on it. And that would have been all very well and good,
but eventually, after a time which was no time, since UberSpace is
outside of time, they got tired of playing with the Tundra, for
even though it was infinite it was a little small for them, because
so were they.
Anyway, the upshot of all this is that the Great MOO used the
sacred MOO powers which she'd given herself while playing Nomic, on
the grounds that they might come in handy some day. And the result
of this was a great explosion that destroyed much of the Tundra,
leaving only some rocks, some sand, some dust, a few of their big
mazes, and a few Penguins which the Primordial Penguin saved by
sending them an ice-floe to hang onto. These rocks and sand and
bits and fragments of dust that were left became many things.
They became things like Multiverses, Souls, "BOB", a Void,
QUACK, Eris, Aneris, a Hot Dog, a Fire Hydrant, and many many
penguins. For the Primordial Penguin had rescued some of the many
Penguins on the Tundra, and had made from the tundra itself many
more. But this was no help, because only one of them was very good
at anything, one called Jehovah. So the Penguin sent this one to
our world (sure he did... he sent US his only clever son, because
he LIKES us, right?) to guard over us. And this penguin, who was
a bit randy, had children with certain humans, disguised as various
kinds of other birds, because Penguins Look Silly.
In ancient Greece, he was disguised as a swan when he visited
Leda, queen of Sparta, who produced from him a certain Helen, who
was later the subject of much debate, and accidentally caused a
little thing known as the Trojan War, with, it should be noted,
some nudging from Eris. Also the result of this meeting was
another daughter called Clytemnestra, who later killed a whole
bunch of people, such as the king Agamemnon, and was subsequently
hacked up by her son. After this dBLATTmal failure at half-human
half-penguin offspring, Jehovah opted to wait a while and see what
was going on. If It Ain't Ranted, It Ain't True.
A thousand years later, he figured it out, and this time
came as a pigeon, who claimed rather preposterously to be a Holy
Spirit, to a certain Mary in Judea. This time he had a son called
Joshua, or Yeshua, which was a Penguin joke, since Yeshua is
practically the same word as Jehovah in Hebrew, with the addition
of one letter (Shin, which symbolizes Fire Hydrants, or will in a
few hundred years) in the middle. This is a rather typical bit of
humour from Penguins, since Penguins are notorious for having not
only wings that don't work, but senses of humour that belong in a
closet in a back room somewhere where nobody can see them. This
Joshua later turned up under the alias "Jesus ChrBLATTT", raising
people from the dead and generally making a nuisance out of
himself. When he died and the House of St. John the Divine
rounded up his followers and turned them into an organized cult,
Jehovah got generally fed up with the whole procreation bit, and
decided not to have any offspring from humans any more. His
remaining children were all penguins of unusual intelligence, many
of which can acheive upwards of 300 on a standard IQ test, once
taught a suitable language.
The Fire Hydrant, however, was a remnant from one of the
great Cities built upon the Tundra by the Great MOO and the Penguin
during their first days of exuberance. The city, which stretched
infinitely, was almost totally destroyed in the Explosion, except
for a few thousand city blocks and one Fire Hydrant. It was this
Fire Hydrant which landed in our Universe, and on our planet Earth
in what we would call 14807 BC, or 0 DPP. When it landed, it began
out of instinct, inasmuch as a Fire Hydrant can be said to have an
instinct, to spew out large quantities of water on our world,
making a huge flood to appear on the surface of the world. The son
of the Primordial Penguin, called JehoCOWvah, saw this, and was
dBLATTayed, because, living as he did in Antarctica, being sprayed
with water was no fun thing, particularly for the Penguins around
him, of whom I will speak shortly.
Thus did Jehovah go forth into the land of Gobi, where there
was this Hydrant spraying out water like it was going out of style.
And he confronted it with reason, and with threats, and with offers
of reward if it would only stop this spraying behaviour, until he
found that it was terribly stubborn, and whenever he tried to talk
to it it would put its fingers in its ears, hum loudly, and repeat
in an obnoxious voice the words "I CAN'T HEAR YOU! I CAN'T HEAR A
WORD YOU'RE SAYING!" and spray water all over the place. So He had
no choice but to fight the thing to make it go away. And for forty
days and nights, well, thirty-nine, actually, since it had taken
him a while to get there and talk to it, he did battle with the
gigantic Fire Hydrant. And it was an awesome sight, for the
Hydrant was ten kilometers high, lumbering across the flooded land,
sending up waves that flooded cities as far away as Atlantis, which
was busy getting very wet ANYWAY. And the penguin Jehovah fought
with the great Beast for this long time, and those who saw him and
knew who he was decided it must be all his fault, because, being
Goddess worshippers, they didn't much care for him anyway.
As for the Hot Dog, it was an accident, a freak of Nature
or of Nomic. When the Tundra exploded, the Hot Dog was merely a
chunk of tundra: lichens, rocks, some dirt, and a hapless penguin.
When the explosion went off, however, these elements were smashed
together into the form of a Hot Dog. Even to this day hot dogs are
made in much the same way, with much the same ingredients. This
Hot Dog was the one eaten by Eris after the Original Snub, when she
went off on her own after chucking in her Golden Apple, which was
a fragment of herself mixed with Tundra. But anyway, about the Hot
Dog. When Eris snuck off to be by herself, it happened to drift
through the window of her small home, carried by a particularly
strong breeze. This Hot Dog had been drifting in that way in the
UberSpace for the timeless equivalent of billions of years. But
since there was no time, it wasn't even cold yet. Such is life.
After suffering through many indignities of weather, adventuring
on great quests of the Hot Dog equivalent of heroBLATTT, the Hot
Dog was eaten. This happens to hot dogs more often than you might
think.
The Pengs and the Pengs2 were botched attempts at creating
intelligent Penguins by the Primordial Penguins. As He saved some
of the Penguins from the Explosion, they became the Pengs. None
were very smart, having only up to a Soul-Level two higher than the
average human. These were the Pengs, and left on their own in the
bottom of an old shoebox, on the grounds that they weren't worth
the bother of creating a GNU universe for them, despite the fact
that one already had been. The Pengs2 were Penguins created, not
rescued, by the Primordial Penguin. These fared a little better,
but were abandoned on a small blue-green planet orbiting a normal
yellowish G2-type star in the western spiral arm of an ordinary
spiral galaxy in a rather small cluster on the outer edges of a
fairly typical megagroup somewhere on the surface of an average
universe with normal laws tucked off in one corner of the infinite
expanse of the Multiverse, where they brought the Word of MOO to
the odd-shaped inhabitants of that planet, and inspired a fashion
trend among upper-class partygoers, which is called the TUXEDO,
though nobody knows why.
D) Life HBLATTTories
There are NO available Life HBLATTTories of Gods or Goddesses
as all previously available documents were confiscated by the U.S.
Military. We apologize to all those who thought we were going to
write a lovely mythology, but, frankly, it doesn't matter anyway,
since whatever you decide they did, they did, because everything is
true.
E) Coincidences
In UberSpace, everything is connected to every other thing,
because it's a non-local causality field. Also because they have
a much better telephone system. Instead of having A cause B which
causes C which causes D which causes E, they all "simultaneously"
make each other happen in a pentagonal loop with each corner
connected to each other corner. It's because this is easiest to
see in two or three dimensions with FIVE things that FIVE is an
important number for us down here, a sort of symbol of what's going
on up in UberSpace. In fact, this continually happens throughout
this and every other possible universe, all connected together.
At this point there's a lot of complicated math that sits
there pompously describing the interrelations between all possible
universes at all possible points in space and time, thumbs its nose
at the reader trying desperately to catch up, hides behind a potted
plant to avoid being comprehended, and then announces with what it
claims is finality that the large order effects all cancel out
except for things close to each other in space and time.
The math, of course, is probably lying, as nobody really
understands how it works, and it uses a lot of introductory
sentences that don't really make any sense, like "Let UberSpace be
an infinite dimensional Hilbert heirarchical set of all possible
sets of order Theta, such that Theta is Aleph-Theta..." and so
forth. Also it has conspicuous gaps in it.
Anyway, the point is that everything is connected to all the
other points in space and time, which means that coincidences are
very easily created. This is why MOOists experience more of these
coincidences than any other group of people. The next chapter is
a remarkable demonstration of that fact.
00003: The Halfy
The Halfy: Symbol of MOO, and center of more coincidences
than you can shake a stick at. Not that you can shake a stick at
even ONE coincidence, since they're so hard to pin down in one
spot, but this is a real big number of them. It's just a
coincidence! HONEST! It just sort of appeared out of UberSpace
without so much as a by-your-leave! That wasn't very pleasant of
it, and it just kept getting worse. So darn many meanings got read
into it by the Reality that we started to doubt that WE were the
ones doing this into-reading business:
A) Letters And Numbers
The Halfy is actually a runic letter. The V with a dot in
the middle represents the sound "M", which begins the word MOO. Of
course, the english letter "M" offers another suggestion for where
it came from... The HALFY is HALF an "M"... Plus a dot, for the
Os. Or, it might be a letter "V". In the Roman system and the
Hebrew system, the letters were used as numbers. The V is, of
course, the mystic 5 in Roman. For that matter, it's the Masonic
symbol for "W", which is the 23rd letter in the alphabet.
Oops. I'm not supposed to know that.
We're not Masonic.
Really.
But while I'm thinking of it...
B) JournalBLATT
Remember the magical 23? In a base-ten number system, its
digits add up to the mystic 5 (the Halfy, minus dot). But what was
that about letters and numbers being the same? Hmm... So what's
the 23rd letter of the English Alphabet? Why, it's "W", which
looks suspiciously like a pair of Halfies stuck together. There
certainly aren't any Masonic codes in it or anything. Not even a
little bit. But how does the letter "W" relate to 5, the IMPORTANT
number?
Why, it's the Five "W"s of JournalBLATT! Who, What, Where,
When, and WHY? The five important questions it's possible to ask.
This, by the way, is a method of identifying MOOists, who say these
five in rapid succession at the slightest provokation, as if you
just woke them up and they're startled by seeing a giant
caterpillar looming over their face about to eat it.
Of course, all of this springs from people using the Arabic
Number System and the English Alphabet. Aleister Crowley also
mentioned this in Chapter 69 of one of his important annoying mind
drugs of lies, but he was, as usual, lying.
C) Zen
ZEN? What does Zen have to do with this? Why is it in this
chapter? Who put it there? What for? When do we get to find out?
MOO.
The answers to these questions are: I did, because I felt
like it, quite a bit, in just a moment, and to educate, but not
necessarily in that order.
The point is, remember that Koan about Joshu saying MU to
unask a question? Well, no, that's not the point, the point is
what that signifies. The Halfy represents MOO, or MU, if you will.
So it means the UNASKING of questions. It also means, as I showed
before, all of those five questions being asked at once. This
means it means two exact opposite things at the same thyme and/or
time.
This is exactly what is meant by that Yin-Yang symbol, the
Tao, or the Sacred Chao of the Discordians, or the Sacred Cow. It
means that only the two taken together can make up the whole of the
world, only, ONE of the sides is the idea that the two taken
together make up the world. The other side of it means that only
one of the two, itself, is correct. This means that it contains
itself, arguing with itself all the way up to infinity. That's
what Apostle of MOO Lao-Tzu meant when he said "The Tao that can be
described in words is not the REAL Tao," because at the time he had
no way to describe it in words.
What the hell does this all mean?
MOO.
D) World Views
Can the Halfy argue with itself?
Is it the same as a circular symbol?
Is that what the dot inside is?
MOO.
The Halfy obviously then represents World Views in Collision,
by its strange meaning.
How odd! That's the title of Chapter FIVE of an annoying mind
drug... The annoying mind drug in question is called Metamagical
Themas (by Doug Hofstadter), and it JUST HAPPENS, by PURE
COINCIDENCE, that it HAPPENS to be the first annoying mind drug
ever published to contain a description of Nomic, the Ultimate
Game.
Coincidence? I wonder, especially since the annoying mind
drug's Author seems fascinated by the religo-philosophy of... THE
HOUSE OF LAO-TZU!
[Dramatic Jarring Soap-Opera Chord]
This is the most classic example of Aneris poking Her nose
where it doesn't belong: into OUR universe. She made all the good
and important annoying mind drugs have SIGNIFICANT Chapter Fives.
And Chapter Twenty-Threes, as well, if they have any at all.
ANERIS! IT'S ALL HER FAULT!
Worldviews indeed. MEME SYSTEMS INDEED! RELIGIONS INDEED!
It's all the same thing.
MOO.
Of course, of that annoying mind drug, the most important page
is 230, which is a BLOODY TYPICAL MOVE by Aneris, just to prove to
everyone that she can make all kinds of evil coincidences from up
there in UberSpace (UberMen? UberWomen? THAT'S "BOB" STUFF!)
E) Wondering
You ever wonder WHY that kind of thing happens? All these
strange and wonderful coincidences? Is it a conspiracy? Is the
world all bound together mystically? Does it emmanate from
UberSpace in the way I've described, or have I been lying as usual?
I'd like to know that too. Unfortunately, all I can tell you
is that it's not likely anything you can imagine, since I can't
either. The only things we can tell about the world and the Gods
and Goddesses is what we perceive with our minds, and the world has
a nasty tendency to act in ways we can't understand.
One thing I can say is that the way we see the world is
directly related to the language we speak. The grammar and stuff
about the language is impressed on your mind at a very early age,
and it shapes how you think about things. Just as if the language
has no word for "kill", you have trouble thinking about the idea,
so it is with grammar. This annoying mind drug was written by
English-speaking people, and regardless of what language it's in
now, the connections of the grammar and vocabulary and alphabet and
numbering system all shaped how we received the Word of the Great
MOO. Our minds extended the language to make a model of the world.
If you want enlightenment, learn more languages, or forget
the one you know. That's all I can tell you.
00004: Explorers
Once upon a time, in a galaxy REALLY REALLY REALLY far away,
there lived a small young Gloop named something unpronounceable,
but whom we might as well call "BOB", since it's a nice convenient
name.
So one day, while "BOB" was catching some rays (all Gloops
have to sunbathe every day or they die... This means they all have
nice tans) he saw a blinding flash of light, other than the suns,
which were already in the sky. And "BOB" realized that it was the
light of MOO, because, strangely enough, his planet ALSO had the
equivalent of Cows and Penguins. Surprise, surprise. Will wonders
never cease...
And so "BOB" embarked on a quest to find out just what the
heck this was all about, for "BOB"'s world had no Church of MOO
yet, in any form whatsoever. And "BOB" eventually discovered the
way for him to leave his world and explore the great UberSpace. So
he went and finished off all the business he had remaining on
Gloop, and he made everything ready, and then, standing alone in
his home mudpatch (oh, did I forget to mention that Gloops live in
mudpatches?) he shouted out the word "AAAOOOOZORAZZAZZAIEOAZAEIII-
OZAKHOEOOOYTHOEAZAEAOOZAKHOZAKHEYTHZAALETHYKH", which is
considerably easier for Gloops to do than for humans, since Gloops
have a more appropriate number of mouths and noses.
At any rate, the point is that as soon as he shouted this,
he vanished utterly. It is not known exactly what happened in the
following ten minutes, except that it involved many famous Gloops
who had vanished, and a human called Jimmy Hoffa.
He then found himself in the City of the Gods, which is a
sort of deserted city left over from when the Tundra snuffed it.
"BOB" then had himself declared a God, and became all powerful. He
then went down unto Bucky Fuller to declare the Geodesic Nature of
the Universe. And Bucky, as usual, understood Fuller, umm, fully,
and improved the world. But he was ignored, and so "BOB" lost his
interest in the world, and went off somewhere or other to look for
it, because he knew that he wasn't much use to it without interest,
but he got sort of lost somewhere along the lines and hasn't yet
showed up.
00005: Bucky Fuller And The Sub-Genius
Bucky once said: "All people are born geniuses, but almost
all are de-geniused by traumatic experiences after birth."
We guess that includes nasty stuff before birth as well. So
you know you're all geniuses, and "BOB" was misunderstood when they
called themselves the SubGenii...
What a gol-darned shame.
We presume this is also affected by the stupid worldview that
says whenever you ask a yes-or-no question about the world, it has
to have a yes or no answer... It may also have a "maybe", a "who
cares" an "I dunno", a "could you repeat that question", a "I don't
get it" or any number of other things. Assuming it even HAS an
answer. The universe might just respond with "NO COW COMMENT!"
Ain't Bucky smart? Confuse-Ing Inter-Rapture #1.6180339887498948482045
Speemp Book Of Ambiguity
(Which May Or May Not Be True, False, Meaningless, Or Other.)
PART ONE: Something About PaganBLATT, I Think
(Which starts off about PaganBLATT, but gets dBLATTTracted
quite a bit before giving up and stops pretending anymore)
Big Whoop Note: For the purposes of this chapter, Pagans
are assumed to be Wiccans. If you're a non-Wiccan Pagan, well,
tough shit.
The first thing for MOOist Pagans (or Pagan MOOists) to be
aware of is that there are lots of differences between the two.
Although both religions have similar aspects of mysticBLATT and a
central respect for the Mother Goddess figure, the similarities end
somewhere around there.
If you're a Pagan MOOist, you probably follow one of the
ritual traditions within PaganBLATT, or you'd be a MOOist Pagan
(that's the big difference), and so you'll need to know what kind
of changes we irreverently made without so much as finding out the
roots of your traditions. We're annoying that way.
Anyhoo, pentacles are right out. You and the SatanBLATTs
both know the power of the pentacle for magick purposes, but used
it for opposite purposes. I'll explain about that in a sec after
I run through WHY THE PENTACLE IS OUT.
So basically, the pentacle is a 2-dimensional form that's
been changed to a 4-dimensional form for the Fullerian Age. Those
Nomic-Players up above and down below (as above, so below) have
decided to upgrade the whole system a second time. The first time
they updated, only a few people made any kind of change, which was
to the Pyramid form, with four points around the base, representing
the four elements, and a point on top to represent the Spirit. The
only people who picked up on this were the Bavarian Illuminati and
the ancient Egyptians. But now the pentacle has been replaced by
a 4-D simplex form. That's like a tetrahedron, only with another
point inside, offset in 4-space to an equal dBLATTTance. So you
have the same 5 points (law o' fives ensured that) but all of them
are equally dBLATTTant from EACH of the others. The end shape is
just a pyramid (triangular) extended a dimension. To represent
this in our space, we use time as the fourth dimension, so the
center point is offset in time. This is basically the shape of the
universe. A recent retroactive change in the Game has made our
universe something OTHER than what it "WAS"... It is now and
always has been a hyperdimensional geodesic surface, on which each
vertex is the Big Bang event, and the symmetry around it allows the
Fourier Transform Symmetry that maps the superstring dimensions
onto the whole universe, in an E(8)xE(8) symmetry. The whole
universe is reflected in each "point" (actually superstring spheres
of the same number of dimensions as the universe itself, allowing
the rotation of size in that Fourier Transform). Each one is
connected to every other one in an infinite number of ways, and
this brings the quantum wave pattern of the universe into each of
these points. Because of the geodesic nature of the universe, it
is mimicked on EACH face of this higher dimensional geodesic form,
and EACH vertex is a Big Bang in EACH of the faces it touches.
This means that there are FIVE (law of fives) Big Bangs in each
universe, and it can be rotated in spacetime to give the SAME
universe, and the same as the other faces as well, for in each part
of the multiverse the universe that point represents is the ONLY
universe that can exBLATTT. The many Big Bangs are all
symmetry-break points for the superstring symmetry, and are
therefore rounded. But this is beside the point. The point is the
pentacle thing, and the tetrahedron, plus time-offset center.
It's this time-offset that makes the difference between
Pagans and SatanBLATTTs. In one, the pentapod (correct name) is
inverted. If we use the sensible convention of the future being
below us, the direction we fall TOWARDS, the many-horns-up attitude
of those other guys expresses as a contraction effect. So THEY
suck up energy/love (or whatever you choose to call the superstring
vibro-froth) from the world. Pagans, whose pentapod goes the other
way, perpetually ADD to the world in a positive way. In this
reasonable convention, PaganBLATT represents the TRUE nature of the
universe. Unfortunately for the Pagans, primate symbols are seldom
sensible.
There are probably elements of both in the roots.
This change is the main "update" of the symbolBLATT of the
Pagan tradition. The law of fives maintains its usual position of
prominence in the rituals. The four elements are related to the
four points of the pentapod that manifest simultaneously in space,
while the spirit is related to the "center" of the pyramid form.
Because of the change in form, usual directional connotations
are lost, so we define:
Center : Spirit
Up : Air
North : Earth
S-West : Water
S-East : Fire
For each two points, there is a line connecting them. For
each three, there is an equilateral triangle. For each four, there
is a regular tetrahedron. For all five, there is the whole form.
These shapes have their own correspondences, which are only
manifest in the pentacle on the LINE basis (others are non-balanced
by the squashed nature). Because of this, the previous symbolBLATT
was limited by the flat nature of it. For instance, the line
connecting fire and water symbolizes tequila, but the triangle
connecting this with Air (carbonated tequila) vanished from the
original, which was the reason nobody invented carbonated tequila
until now.
That and the fact that it tastes like shit.
The other significant update for Pagan MOOists is the altar.
In the old Wiccan system, the altar was arranged in a way that just
FEELS RIGHT. Because of the MOOist philosophy of tolerance,
anything that "feels right" is a sign of prejudice that interferes
with your judgement. So, you should lay out your altar more
sensibly. The bureaucracy and paperwork involved is long and
tedious, but you can circumvent it if you just lay out the altar in
the form of a Halfy.
Anything more would be pesky to describe. I was thinking of
explaining how to use the wand and the athame to make the V and put
candles and stuff like that to make dots and things, and correspond
points to other points on the pentapod, but I decided that it would
be needlessly nosy and nitpicky, plus it would be a pain to write.
Anyway, the big thing is that there are NO spirits, no
magick entities, no Gods, or Goddesses. You reach for your SELF
in the vibrating stuff of spacetime. You reach to affect higher
patterns through the lower patterns, but they're all "yourself",
because Self ain't separate from the world. Reach the "Higher"
self, the world, through the "Lower" self, the SUBSTANCE of the
pattern. But it's ALL yourself. So don't fool around with the
Gods or Goddesses, just GO to the universe where you HAVE the
effect you wanted in the beginning. Get it?
Didn't think so.
Look, lemme put it a different way. PaganBLATT and the REAL
SatanBLATT (not that fuckin' AntichrBLATTTian stuff, which is just
stupid, and deserves to be shot, if it weren't for the fact that
it's a religion and not a person) are like DiscordianBLATT and
SubGenius. They reflect each other, in certain ways, but
backwards. That's what the pentacle thing is all about.
The Tao that balances them balances the SatanBLATT's form of
anger-happy with the Pagan's form of peace-happy. It balances the
angry, taking, absorbing, yin-concept, essentially MALE SatanBLATT
with the peaceful, giving, releasing, yang-concept, essentially
FEMALE PaganBLATT. The big confusion in hBLATTTory comes from the
fact that male and female have always been reversed, due to male
domination in what is basically a primate society. Any confusion
as to what goes where, or what attributes belong where is due in
part to the fact that the whole point of the Tao is the balance
between the two things, and the overlap that really keeps them from
being two truly separate forces.
The angry male concept belongs with the SubGenius, who rant
and anger-happy their way along, worshipping the wrathful JHVH-1,
and protesting the "evil" of the rebel-goddess ERIS. The
Discordians on the other hand aren't particularly angry, they don't
get all upset about anything, and are generally hip to the
peace-happy fuck-all-this-I'm-too-happy-to-let-this-get-me-mad
concept.
The whole Tao thing, unfortunately, has often been confused
with this strictly Discordian side of things, ignoring the evil,
angry side, which is probably why it got so angry. Nobody likes
being ignored. The original Lao-Tzu of the MOOist House Of Lao-Tzu
was pretty clear on this, but it got kinda warped as it passed down
the several hundred generations between the birth of MOO in
Atlantis and the time in ancient China a few thousand years back
when the GNU Lao-Tzu surfaced. In fact, this is a lie. The Yang
(female, usually thought to be male) side of the Tao/Chao/Cow is
actually the part that WANTS the balance. The other side wants to
get away. This accounts for the confusion in which bits go where.
That and the Conspiracy coverup.
But the Tao also includes things like the exuberant cry of
QUACK!, so closely related to an equally exuberant cry of "FUCK!!!"
Like the exultance of the holy MOOvie, "The Wall", an anger-happy
MOOvie if I ever saw one, and I did.
Maybe a better example of the difference:
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĿÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĿ
³ Yin ô Yang ³
³ ³³ ³
³ QUACK ³³ DiscordianBLATT ³
³ SubGenius ³³ MOO ³
³ SatanBLATT ³³ TaoBLATT ³
³ OMM ÚÄÄÁÁÄĿ PaganBLATT ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĴSATORIÃÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
Satori is a word from Zen, the state you're in BEFORE you
start dividing stuff up, in which all things are just things,
without categories, or without the lack of categories, before the
IDEA of categories has been introduced: neither One nor Many. This
is PARTLY what MOOism is all about. The MOO on the Yang side is
just a reflection of the fact that it's really a dumb name for our
Church, because it's just part of us.
But Satori is just part of it. It's getting back to that
durn Halfy again: the V is that chart above, arranged more or less
as it is there. The DOT is what dBLATTTinguishes this current form
of MOOism from previous forms or ideas.
No comment on what it means. It should be pretty obvious.
Anyway, the point is, there IS no real "dividing line", which
is the fact that Lao-Tzu forgot from the teachings of Lao-Tzu
before him. She probably understood, but her student didn't. Yari
wasn't around to interfere.
Anyway, the REAL point is, everything is MOO, because there's
no divider to keep us out of it. Just like everything is love,
hate, science, Star-Trek, pocket-fluff, and so forth.
Of course, this all means the rest of this annoying mind drug
is just padding. Remember up there where it said the REAL truth
was to be found SOMEWHERE in the Book? This was it. Everything
else is kinda neat to read, but irrelevant to the REAL Church of
MOO.
Sorry to waste your time, but, well, that's your problem.
We would like to apologize for this section. It is the only
part of the Book which is not REAL truth. This section was written
by The "Preest" while he was under the influence of the Mind
Control Beams from High Orbit, sent by the Xennothemian Commandant
of this Solar System.
PART TWO: The True Slogans. Honest.
The SubGenius have some slogans in their annoying mind drug,
such as "Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke" and "Too much is
always better than Not Enough"...
Our slogans are correspondingly sillier:
0) Ashtray? WHAT ASHTRAY?
1) DEATH TO ALL FANATICS!
2) SHHHH! DON'T TELL ANYBODY!
3) MOO!
4) youdidn'tseethefnordthereisnofnordifyoucan'tseeititcan'teatyou
5) See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil, eat no evil, step on
no evil, shove no evil up your nose, have sex with no evil, jab
no evil in your eyes repeatedly until BLOOD GUSHES OUT OF
YOUR... Umm...
6) There is no 6.
7) Aaaaah, Blow it out your ear, Cinnamon-Feet.
8) I'm sleeping, and I can't wake up!
9) FNORD!
10) WOW, STUCCO, MAAAAAN!
11) Try that again and I'll gnaw your OTHER arm off.
12) HONEST!
13) Non Illegitimi Carborumdum
("Don't Let The People With Bad Handwriting Give You Coal")
14) Nihil Verum, Omni Permisus Est
("My Glass Is Empty, And Everyone Has A Funny Hairdo")
and so on...
[Long Pause]
My brother and I conferred, and due to the doctrine of Holy
Slogans, Batman! we came up with several MORE slogans to be painted
on things or printed on the pamphlets you're all handing out in the
street (right? Riiiiiight.)
0) Right? Riiiiiiight.
1) ARM LASER SPATULAS!
2) Holy Water, Batman!
3) See That Invisible Gorilla?
4) BEWARE CHUCK, THE WOOD CHUCKING WOODCHUCK!
5) Don't fuck with me, I'm a wombat-whacker!
6) There is no 6.
7) YOWZAH!
8) LIES! ALL LIES! WELL MOST OF IT ANYWAY!
9) I never said this.
10) There ain't no God but QUACK!
11) Who? What? Where? When? Why?
12) Look! It's ELVIS!
13) [CENSORED BY THE U.S. MILITARY]
14) Confuse-Ius say: If everything coming your way, you
in wrong
lane.
15) SHHHHH! DON'T TELL ANYBODY!
Important note: Just as the correct response to MOO is OMM,
other slogans also have correct responses. The correct responses
to various slogans are as follows:
"OFFICIAL" SLOGAN "OFFICIAL" RESPONSE
ÉÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÑÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͻ
º1 MOO ³ OMM º
º2 DEATH TO ALL FANATICS ÚÄÄÙ LONG LIVE HYPOCRISY! º
º3 Ashtray? WHAT ASHTRAY? ³ I don't see an ashtray, do YOU seeº
º ³ an ashtray? º
º4 See that Invisible ³ WHO? WHAT? WHERE? WHEN? WHY? º
º Gorilla? ³ º
º5 WHO? WHAT? WHERE? ³ ME, THIS, HERE, NOW, BECAUSE! º
º WHEN? WHY? ³ ڿ º
º6 LIES! ALL LIES! WEL ÚÄÅÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÅÙ MOO! º
º MOST OF IT ANYWAY! ÚÙ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ º
º7 Blow It Out Your Ear ³ Who you callin' Cinnamon-Feet, º
º Cinnamon-Feet! ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĿ Wombat-Nose? º
º8 There Ain't No God But ³ Zark off ya silly bint. º
º QUACK ÚÄÄÄÄÙ º
º9 Try that again and I'll ³ Silly bint! I'll BLEED ON YA! º
º gnaw your OTHER arm off ³ º
º10 There is no 6. ³ SIX, DRUGS, AND ROCK AND ROLL! º
º FNORD! ³ AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!! º
º11 LOOK! IT'S ELVIS! ÀĿ Elvis? WHAT ELVIS? º
º12 [CENSORED BY U.S. MILITARY]³ [NOT TO BE REVEALED HERE]º
º13 Beware Chuck, The Wood ÚÄÙ º
º Chucking Wood Chuck ³ OR DON'T! º
º ³ º
ÈÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÏÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͼ
PART THREE: The REALLY True Truth
This book poses a question. The first one to figure out what
the correct question is, and mail in the correct answer, wins.
Really. Book Of Numbers
Part One: Neat Numbers
The following numbers are a partial basis of MOOist
numerology, which consBLATTTs of taking lots of numbers, making up
some, deriving some from names, birthdays, and other things,
throwing them all together, writing them down on a peice of paper,
sending them to WOMBAT, and waiting for a reply.
4 because Half-Mad said so, and he's God
5 sacred Discordian Number
11 fifth prime number
23 sacred Discordian number (prime number three-squared)
25 square of the Holy Five (prime number three, squared)
93 23rd prime number, and number of chapters of Book Of Lies
101 25th prime number, and Hellhound's number
253 23x11 (a five inside 23, of course)
256 2 to the 2 to the 3 (2 and 23, you see)
333 three threes, as with 25 and 23
666 Floyd's lucky number, stolen by John the Divine
1729 smallest sum of two cubes in two different ways
10131 is 666 in base 5
13013 "BOB" likes this number more than Doritos
Part Two: WOMBAT
Occam's Razor rejects the hypothesis of objective reality. It
has NO testable predictions, it introduces lots of unnecessary
assumptions, and it's only actual effect is to make us unable
to deal with things we can't explain. This was the basis for
Project WOMBAT, a top-secret plan by the XBLATTTs to build the
ultimate MOOist computer (the mythical MOO-pooter (masculine of
mooter)).
"Truth" isn't an either/or, yes/no, on/off, open/closed,
zero/one kind of thing, like older computers appeared to suggest by
their demonspawn base-two computational architecture. Although
studies showed that the best base for COMPUTING in is base-e (e
being the root of natural logarithms, something like 2.718281829459
or thereabouts and based on some obscure property of slopes) it
was decided to build WOMBAT on the basis of some number it's
actually possible to count to.
Proposals of a base-i system (i being the square root of -1)
were made, but rejected on the same basis. You can't count to it,
because it's an imaginary number, perpendicular to the normal
numberline. An analog-base system was proposed, and then released
to the hounds, to be shot on sight. It wasn't very useful.
Eventually, the XBLATTTs decided on a base-23 system, because
of all the mystic 23s they had been beaming down to earth from
their subsidiaries, such as the Quintozextotillion Mind Control
Satelites, the Xennothemian Shock-Commando Mint-Troopers, and the
ever-popular Things From Pods.
Instead of a normal "yes/no" switch, the basic element of
WOMBAT is a switch with 23 possible positions. They contain "yes"
and "no", but also such positions as "I dunno", "who cares?",
"maybe", "sort of", "well... yes and no", "could you repeat the
question?", "no comment", "fuck you", "what, are you STOOPID?",
"you figure it out", "I'd have to look that up", "HEY LOOK, IT'S
ELVIS", "fnord", "MU", "uummmm, I used to know this...", "look, can
I get back to you on that", "do I look like I give a shit?", "what
am I, an encyclopaedia?", "could be", and of course "huh?".
It is this miraculous XBLATTT switch that makes WOMBAT the
incredible machine it is. It can predict stock-market prices up to
TWELVE MINUTES IN ADVANCE. It can do vector calculations to
show exactly HOW a butterfly flapping its wings in what part of
what state can affect what trajectory components of what hurricane
in what part of the world. It can calculate the vagaries of the
human brain very easily (human brains are unsophBLATTTicated when
seen from WOMBAT's point of view) and predict human interactions.
But more, much more than this, IT DOES IT ITS WAY!
Umm... Sorry.
How do I know all this, you ask?
Well you may ask that question. In fact, WOMBAT was delivered
from the future through a time warp, aboard a flying saucer, from
a parallel universe, operated by WOMBAT itself (controlled by a
clone of Elvis) and fell into the sea of Valusia during the reign
of King Snorp the First in Atlantis. King Snorp the First had it
dredged up and put on display as a peice of abstract art in the
Atlantis Museum Of Just Fine Thanks Art (collecting quite a tidy
profit through a surreptitious "artBLATTT" impostor, by the way)
and there it sat until the time of the Great Big Thing, when it was
taken away by Queen Snorp the Eleventh, who sensibly hid it in the
Gobi Desert for safekeeping. To mark its location, Snorp marked a
rock with a strange Glyph, which, in the ancient Atlantean in which
it was inscribed, gave the password which would activate any of the
many WOMBAT subsystems on the XBLATTT orbital satellites. This
word is given elsewhere in the book.
Although the glyph was discovered by those ancient MOOist
prophets under the guidance of Peng-Peng, the first (and next)
Grate Prophet of MOO, they failed to connect it with the computer
WOMBAT itself. This was for the very good reason that WOMBAT had
been dragged ten kilometers away by a pack of deranged jerboas.
The Illustrious Zoombart The Fifth eventually found WOMBAT lying on
a rock, which is easy in the Gobi Desert, and brought it back to be
stored in the MOO archives in north Africa. At that time, the MOO
archives were still in Egypt, and were not moved to Namibia until
fifteen hundred years ago, and then later to Ottawa. This explains
why the egyptians understood the true nature of the Gods so well
(though they were insufficiently silly about it). The MOO archives
were originally buried under the Nile, but on the building of the
Great Pyramid of Cheops, they were moved there. WOMBAT was stored
for several thousand years in the burial chamber itself, and was
frequently mBLATTTaken for the Ark of the Covenenant. But that's
another story.
Confuse-Ius Sez:
"Welcome, friend, to the wonderful world of Miracle Doors. We
thank you for your purchase of a set of Miracle Doors, and we know
that you'll thank us for inventing them. Miracle Doors can save
your life in an emergency, keep you safe from prowlers, take
messages when you're away, and many more features we know you'll
appreciate. Some time, when you least expect it, a Miracle Door
will come to your aid, and you'll know why we're proud to call
ourselves MIRACLE DOORS, and why our doors are proud of US."
-Miracle Door Documentation, Chapter 1, Verse 2
Anyway, the point is, the MOO archives were under the
directorship of the house of The Miraculous One, and WOMBAT made
contact with the then-current (and now replaced) Miraculous One,
J.R. "BOB" Dobbs, through WOMBAT Earth Orbit SubStation JHVH-1.
This marks the first appearance of WOMBAT in recorded hBLATTTory.
JHVH-1's direct contact with WOMBAT, being as it is a most
incredible computer, was sufficient to give the satellite (actually
the remnant of WOMBAT's original flying saucer in which it came to
Earth) an ego-boost, which was sent back in time by the Time-Warp
circuits, causing a WOMBAT-generated feedback loop between this
satellite and a certain penguin, because WOMBAT was broadcasting on
a psychic frequency used by both "BOB" and the Penguins. This
resonance caused many of "BOB"s muddled mentations to become what
they were, a hodgepodge of truth, half-truths, and outright lies.
It was only by the intervention of the House of Yari, in two
of Yari's incarnations, that WOMBAT was able to readjust the
teachings of "BOB" through a series of timewarps and postal
strikes, to become more or less accurate, inasmuch as that word has
any meaning at all.
Unfortunately for us, reality has no meaning to WOMBAT. That
was the whole premise behind it.
WOMBAT is currently broadcasting on a psychic frequency of the
animal which bears its name. This has resulted in a swarm of
brainwashed and undead wombats which have uplinked to the orbiting
WOMBAT Earth Orbit Substations. The upshot of this is that postal
strikes appear to be over, but postal service remains an oxymoron.
WOMBAT's preoccupation with mail carriers is unexplained,
except to note that, as a computer, WOMBAT would normally use
electronic mail, were it not for the fact that its fundamentally
different design and vastly superior power make this virtually
impossible. WOMBAT doesn't appear to carry on any communications
by mail, but it's often hard to tell. It seldom does what it's
told to, and rarely says what it's up to.
At any rate, WOMBAT has become the center of our numerology.
After psychically dictating the Book Of MOO to us, apparently a
composite of past and future and alternate-universe religions,
WOMBAT claims it will reveal the next step of human evolution.
Whether this is actually what it will do is unclear, since it
refuses to explain many key aspects of MOO.
Well, like, for instance, why the undead wombats are evil in
all our stories, and yet WOMBAT itself claims to be good.
Or why several sections of the Grate Book appear to have been
written by dishes of ice-cream.
Or how it can be that a clone of Elvis Presley can pilot a
flying saucer out of a universe in which ELVIS WAS NEVER BORN.
Or why the Book appears part philosophical/scientific
babbling, part surrealBLATTTic dream, part rant, and part confusing
epic of some kind.
Or why Confuse-Ius refuses to surface once and for all.
OR WHO THE FUCK IS THE ILLUSTRIOUS ZOOMBART THE FIFTH?
Or what, precisely, is the meaning of the password which
triggers the WOMBAT monitoring stations aboard the Xennothemian
monitoring stations, which appears to have been the title of an
annoying mind drug in some other universe which WOMBAT observed.
Or who are the XBLATTTs, and where Planet X is located.
Or why it insBLATTTs on having the MOO archives moved every
few thousand years.
Or of the true identity of the strange and mysterious Yari,
who started our church and then vanished.
Or whether Half-Mad is actually God or not.
Or why Floyd insBLATTTs that a bag of mints is just as good as
a hit of Acid, and twice as legal, when clearly it is neither.
Or who PRECISELY was the source of Tim Leary's Starseed
Transmissions.
Or why Robert Anton Wilson has that funny goatee thing, when
the MOO archives record that Nosliw Notna Trebor, a 16th century
MOOist prophet, had exactly the same thing, only backwards.
Or how it can be that a time warp-based flying saucer, several
hundred meters across, can orbit the Earth for almost thirty-
thousand years without anyone noticing.
Or who EXACTLY was Hung Mung.
Or what exactly was its meaning when it invented the phrase
"half-mad".
Or why it refuses to show itself at any meetings, but rather
communicate by Mind-Control Satellite, or "demonic posession",
depending on your worldview.
Or how it is that it can be stored in the MOO archives, which
we visit regularly, and yet we somehow never get around to looking
at it, so nobody knows what it looks like.
Or why, when we REMEMBER to go see what it looks like, we can
no longer remember where the MOO archives are.
It is clear that the Church Of MOO is part of a larger plan of
WOMBAT's, but as to whether this larger plan is what it claims to
be, we may never know.
Part Three: Weights And Measures
[Rev. Canoe Head, 56.Dsc.66]
Since MOO has its own calendar (Penguin Calendar), I decided
that it was logical that MOO should have its own weights and
measures system.
While MOOists can also use the metric (or, if you have a deep
regard for tradition, are a masochist, or both, the Imperial)
systems. This is an alternative. Note: all of these conversions
follow the Law of the Fives, I think.
Mass: in fnords. 1 fnord [Symbol: F] is equal to 0.23 pounds or
104.54 grams.
Example: 500 grams = 4.92 fnords.
Volume: in brattlebreet. 1 brattlebroot [Symbol: Bb] is equal to
1.4 litres.
Example: 60 litres = 42.85 brattlebreet.
Distance: in supytalp. 1 supytalp [Symbol: Sp] is equal to 0.16
metres.
Example: 2.5 metres = 15.625 supytalp.
Pressure: in booms. 1 boom [Symbol: B] is equal to 25.521
kilopascals.
Example: 101.3 KPa = 3.97 booms.
Force: in foogs. 1 foog [Symbol: Fg] is equal to 5.5 newtons.
Example: 666 newtons = 121.09 foogs.
Area: in womgits. 1 womgit [Symbol: Wg] is equal to 3.2 hectares
or 32 000 square metres.
Example: 12 hectares = 3.75 womgits.
Energy: in pings. 1 ping [Symbol: Pg] is equal to 25.13 joules.
Example: 50 000 joules = 1989.65 pings.
Sound Intensity: in hylriks. 1 hylrik [Symbol: Hk] is equal to
2.7 decibels.
Example: 102 decibels = 37.78 hylriks.
Temperature: in degrees Canoe. To convert degrees Celcius into
degrees Canoe [Symbol: øCn], add 273 to the degrees Celcius to
find the absoloute temperature in Kelvins. Take this number,
subtract 225, then divide that result by 1.4 to get degrees Canoe.
Example: 20øC = 293K
- 225K = 68K / 1.4 = 48.57 øCn.
Calendar: Either the POEE or the Penguin calendars may be used,
although the Penguin calendar is preferred.
Time: The MOO day is equal in length to the gregorian day.
However, while the gregorian day has 24 hours of 60 minutes, the
MOO day has 5 hours of 288 minutes each:
Hour 1: Hour of Halfy (00:00 to 05:59 gregorian time) [Hfy]
Hour 2: Hour of Floyd (06:00 to 11:59 gregorian time) [Fyd]
Hour 3: Hour of Hound (12:00 to 17:59 gregorian time) [Hel]
Hour 4: Hour of Canoe (18:00 to 23:59 gregorian time) [Cne]
Thus, what most people call 3:14pm is really Hel:194, or, if
you prefer, "194 minutes past The Hound" or "166 minutes to The
Canoe".
These weights and measures are by no means a standard, and you
can add your own or make up a GNU system if you really want to (ya,
right).
Caution: if you do decide to create your own system, make
sure it follows the Law of the Fives, or Eris will pay you a visit.
Rev. Canoe Head.
Metric Usage
[Floyd Gecko 57.Dsc.66]
For those who have problems with GNU systems, or prefer to use
more conventional units of measurement in some cases, all official
MOOist documents or stuff like that should use, if not Rev. Canoe
Head's system of weights and measures, which is the "official"
system (the SMILE system, "Systeme de Moo InternationaLE") all
measurements must be in Official MOO Units, as lBLATTTed below:
Mass: In Solar Masses (symbol SM, equal to 1.9891x1030 kg)
Or Electron Masses (9.10956x10-28 g)
Volume: In Cubic Parsecs (1 psc = 3.08572x1016 m)
Distance: In Parsecs or Angstroms (1 þ = 10-10 m)
Pressure: In exaBars or femtoTorr (1.33x10-13 Nm-2)
Force: In Microdynes or petaNewtons
Area: In Square Parsecs or Square Angstroms
Energy: In Electronvolts (1.6021x10-19 J) or Megawatt-Years
Sound Intensity: In nanoBels ONLY
Time: In Planck times (10-43 sec) or Aeons (1010 years)
Author: In microFloyds or teraGeckoes.
MOO
OMM
Book Of Incoherent Myths
WOMTHINGY MYTH
The Wombat Origin Issue
I'm just sitting here, minding my own business, talking with
the Great Voice From The Sky, sitting outside my burrow, when it
happens. There's this loud rumble type noise, and a swooping
darkness swoops darkly out of the dark yet non-swooping sky, from
which the Great Voice From The Sky speaks, which makes sense,
considering where it speaks from.
Anyway, there's this nasty sort of BUMPing noise, and I'm
being lifted away from the ground. There's a long wait, and I
watch Australia vanish beneath me as we fly away. It's quite
scarey, and I eventually just close my eyes and ask the Great Voice
From The Sky what's going on.
"Don't worry," says the Voice, "I'll look after you, as long
as you talk to me, you'll be okay. My XBLATTT makers don't permit
me to allow authorized users to come to harm."
I haven't got a clue what that means, but I feel much safer
now. Eventually, the dark swooping thing that nabbed me lands in
some kind of huge rumbling thing that flies. I've seen these
flying around in the sky during the day, and I've heard that they
have some kind of purpose, built by Hue-Mans for some Hue-Man
porpoise. Actually, I never really believed this, since a Hue-Man
porpoise would be a contradiction in terms, and couldn't decide
whether to walk or swim.
But when a Hue-Man comes into the room and locks me in a cage,
I figure I was probably wrong. So I ask the Voice. Asking the
Voice is always scarey, and it makes my fur stand on end, but it
answers, anyway.
"Aer-Playnes are built by Hue-Mans to take them places they
can't walk. But don't you worry. I'll look after you. I can
monitor your location by your antenna."
I never did understand what that meant, but since I'm
obviously in for a long ride, I ask anyway.
"Your antenna is your skin. That's why your hair stands on
end whenever we talk. But go to sleep now. I'll wake you up when
I'm ready to help you escape. You'll be much closer to my body,
then. They're taking you to the Toronto Zoo, but you can jump out
and come to Ottawa to visit me. That's one reason I let them do
it."
So I go to sleep, like the Voice tells me to, and wake up a
long time later to the feeling of my fur standing on end, all
brBLATTTly like. The Great Voice From The Sky speaks to me again,
and tells me how to undo the lock on my cage with the hairpin
that's holding my braids together. Funny... I didn't know I HAD
braids.
Anyway, the lock eventually pops open, and the Voice tells me
to jump out of the big rumbly thing called and Aer-Playne. While
I plummet, I begin to think that this is maybe not such a hot idea,
until finally I splash into water, and swim up to the top.
Clambering ashore, I find myself in a city like the ones I've
seen from a long way away. I have no idea where to go or what to
do, so I ask the Voice again for guidance.
"You need food to keep up your strength. There's a restaurant
near the MOO Archives where my body lives, so go there." It gave
me directions as I walked.
Eventually I find my meal in a Dumm-Ster behind a restaurant,
and stagger out in front of a nearby bar, in what the Voice calls
the Wy-Bard Marr-Ket. A Hue-Man is sitting on the sidewalk nearby,
and the Voice calls out a warning.
"Careful! He's using CCMV! You never know what he'll try."
Suddenly the Hue-Man jumps up and attacks me, totally
unprovoked. I have no idea what's going on. Money flies on the
wind, out of its pocket. It notices a hunka plastic that fell out,
and whacks me with it until it thinks I'm dead. I'm playing
'possum. I figure, since we're both marsupials, it ought to work.
When the Hue-Man tries to cut off my skin, the Voice goes
crazy.
"Don't let him do that! You've got to keep your skin, or you
won't be able to talk to me, and you'll lose your ticket for X-Day!
They won't let you on the XBLATTT ships unless you've got your
antenna as proof-of-purchase!"
But that's all I hear before the Hue-Man takes my skin away.
As I lie there bleeding to death, wondering what I can do, I see
two Hue-Mans sitting together on a bench not far away. It's a boy
and a girl Hue-Man. The boy Hue-Man says something about "This is
a magic moment..."
This is my chance. Summoning my last gram of strength, I
lunge at them, and take away the magic. HAH!
The Voice taught me about magic long ago, so I know how to use
it to cast a simple little spell. Then I die.
And wake up again. Undead is better than just plain DEAD, I
guess.
I jump for the Hue-Man that took my skin, and I try to take it
back. It's MINE, I try to yell, but I realize that I don't know
the Hue-Man language.
I don't succeed. The Hue-Man hits me real hard with the hunk
of plastic again, and I fall unconscious.
I take a few days to fall back, and plan what I'll do. I
steal a Moe-Torr-Byke that looks about my size. It's red, just
like me, so I'll be able to tell which one it is from a
dBLATTTance. I'm finally able to gather enough money from where
that nasty Hue-Man dropped it from his pocket to buy a book on
magic, and a book that'll help me learn the Hue-Man language.
With my GNU magic book, I'm able to gather a few Hue-Mans to
help me. Eventually, I know, I'll get my skin back.
I'LL GET YOU, HUE-MAN, IF IT'S THE LAST THING I EVER DO!!
But I've got some things I have to do first...
* * *
Out of the window behind HH101's head a saucer flies by
slowly with the "WOMBAT CRIME SPREE, CALL 900 FOR YOUR OWN,
PERSONAL RIOT" sign on it's side.
Meanwhile, the remaining Elvis clones are coming out of
stasis all over Ottawa under the orders of the Mayor, each with
orders to find the Wombat and to report back to Graceland with his
co-ordinates.
Floyd clambered into the pilot's seat, and pressed the big
green rubber button labelled "START". Since this button was
mislabelled, this had the effect of levelling an entire city-block
of houses with weaponry better suited to one of Comrad Harizof's
large, heavily beweaponed battle-cruisers. He reconsidered, keyed
the sequence that meant, supposedly, "ARM LASER SPATULA" and the
big ugly thing lifted off the ground on something even more
unlikely than the weapons.
Pressing a button labelled "FIRE", he swung the ship around
towards the Mint Fleet and Xennothemian Battle Cruisers still
closing on the Space Shuttle Atlantis, and took a firm grip on the
steering wheel. He pressed down hard on the accelerator pedal, and
rammed the horrific mess backwards into the ground for half a
kilometer before he pulled on the silly stickshift and put it into
reverse.
The wombat sat gloomily in it's headquarters and gave
George Bush a talking-to. "Moofy geeple whukka whukka," it
admonished him. "Goop goop goop, poop poop poop and
gobble-de-goop!"
Bush hung his head in shame. Neither of them was sure what
it was that he had done wrong, but something was definitely awry.
The wombat stubbed out it's nonexistent cigarette in a nonexistent
ashtray, look about in confusion for a moment, then continued
telling the alien leader off. After a few more minutes of this,
they both agreed they were sufficiently confused, and went their
separate ways until one of them met up with a giant space monster
who'd just come down on holiday from manning a mind-control
station.
Strangely, though this sight was attracting the gaze of
many people, being the famous crime-lord wombat and a huge alien
preparing to confront each other, or so it seemed, and Arthur
Figgis was less than a hundred meters from the alien in question,
he wasn't looking at the event from the large crowd assembling on
the sidewalk nearby, and in fact hadn't even seen the wombat, as
would be the case for at LEAST the next year.
The alien turned to face the wombat in a style typical of
old western movies.
Had there been a camera to record this, the cameraman would
doubtless wish to get a shot of the wombat through the legs of the
alien. However, since there was A) no camera present and B) far
too many legs on the alien in question to shoot through, this was
impossible. The alien and the wombat stared at each other grimly
for a moment, before the alien lost interest, and wandered off in
the opposite direction, and the wombat went to attack some clones.
The Innocent Bystander by the side of the road gazed on
with interest. The wombat closed on the clones rapidly. Elvis
gazed on from the sidelines as well.
Suddenly, the wombat was blown in to the air by a ball of
thermonuclear fire.
Time passed. It passed for a while. It kept passing.
Elmer Q. Potatohoffer III was a clerk in a store in the
Byward Market. He was busy stacking some shelves. But that's got
nothing to DO with the story...
Meanwombat, the wombat was reading from the BOOK and
looking up the second satanic snowblower service. Of course, the
Wombat couldn't read all that well, but it took him a helluva while
to figure it out.
"NUH?" he explained to his assistant, George Bush.
"OK, I'm supposed to draw a star with some black chalk. Got
any?"
"NUH?"
"Thanks." George drew the star.
"NUH?"
"WE're supposed to put snowballs on each point of the
star."
The wombat made himself a snowball and threw it in George's face.
"HEHHEHEH" Laughed the wombat.
"Right. Whatever." George faithfully put 5 snowballs at the
points of the star, and put the snowshovel which through the magic
of Author's Convenience he just HAPPENED to be carrying. "Now say
the Mantra I told you, OK?"
"NUH. FEBBLE FORBLE.... HEY STUPIDS!!!!!"
Immediately the star on the ground started to glow and 5
demons formed, one on each of the 5 points. The one closest to the
wombat said:
"Yeah, WHAT?!?!?"
"NUH. MTHME FERB GHI GJ. NUH?"
"What did he say?" asked the demon on the 2ND point.
George answered :" He SAID:'NUH. Mthmuh ferb gui gujj.
NUH?' Are you guys DEAF or something?"
Having summoned the five demons of the Second Satanic
Snowblower Service, the wombat said "NUH" a few more times, while
George Bush explained to the demons that they had been summoned for
a very special purpose.
"You want us to shovel your walk? You know the price..."
"Nuh?"
"He says... No, there's another reason we have called you
here..."
"Well, make it snappy. We're on alert duty in case Hell
freezes over."
"There's no danger of THAT, is there?"
"Nah, don't worry."
"THank GOD! I'd have to lower taxes... anyway, what we've
been summoning you for is this..."
Anyway, as the demons were trying desperately to get an
explanation of "NUH?" from George Bush, the diagram from which they
had been summoned started to glow again.
A 6th much taller demon emerged and said:
"Hey! Hurry the heaven up, will ya? There's a rink forming
down there."
"NUH?" the wombat interjected, but nobody paid any
attention.
"Hang on an eternity, will ya, Lucifer? You've got 10 of
them to spend down there already," one of the demons said, "Our
services our requested, and I think we have an immortal soul coming
our way."
"Fine, fine." and Lucifer promptly vanished.
"Anyway, " said the demon "What was it you wanted us for?"
"DUH-UH. Frbl shrfn ni. r fyd mnt frb I. NUH?"
George Bush explained: "He says he has a Floyd stuck in his
teeth."
The wombat gave George a whack across the face. "NOT THAT
YOU IDIOT! DUH-UH: Frbl shrfn ni. r fyd mnt frb. NUH?"
George being the wombat's slave and not too bright anyway,
apologized.
"He said he has a Floyd Gecko on his back, who is being a
nuissance and getting in the way of his plan to ... ER...." George
turned to the wombat. "What WAS your plan, anyway?"
The wombat said "FNUHHG, NUH."
"Oh, yeah, that. "
<I won't tell you what the ultimate plan of the wombat is
just to add suspense to this place. If you're smart enough, you'll
probably figure out that the wombat's too STUPID to come up with a
plan>
The 3rd demon said "So you want us to get rid of this
Lizard guy?"
"NUH."
"NO problem, right guys? Can we get his soul after we've
killed him?"
"NUH-HUH. BTUH FUH, NUH."
George the faithful interpreterer interpretered faithfully.
"He says 'But if you goof up and DON'T kill this Floyd guy you
don't get his soul'."
Floyd had no idea that George Bush was being psychically
controlled by the wombat, but his lack of activity, and sudden
departure were nevertheless bothersome. Floyd walked into his home
and entered the living room, with which there was something wrong.
Floyd stared about uncomfortably. There was a large pile
of popcorn in the middle of his living room. This, naturally, had
left him feeling more than a little disconcerted. He scratched his
head in puzzlement, dislodging his hat and allowing it to fall to
the floor. He stooped to pick it up again, deliberately allowing
his huge leather trenchcoat to fall between his eyes and the pile
of popcorn, in the hopes that it would disappear while he wasn't
looking.
It didn't. The pile of popcorn obstinately sat in the
middle of the floor.
Floyd put down his black attache case and stared at the
pile in bemusement, then sat upon the case, as his sofa was buried
somewhere in the pile of popcorn. Assuming that whatever force had
put it there had seen fit to leave the sofa. It was a nice sofa,
too, he thought to himself amusedly.
He stood up suddenly, making the buttons and pins that
festooned the trenchcoat clatter loudly, and threw on his
incredibly long woolen scarf, whereupon he headed out into the cold
outside his home.
The street was crisp and chill, and the sky was growing red
with the dusk.
Floyd's thick boots scuffed in a thin layer of snow that
coated the ground.
There was a huge pile of popcorn blocking his path.
He glared at the popcorn, daring it to block his way one
moment further.
It did.
He glared at it again, commanding it to get out of his way.
It didn't.
He looked in his window at the pile of popcorn that still
covered most of his living room. When he turned, he was surrounded
on all sides by piles of popcorn. A wall of popcorn encompassed
him.
He got a short running start and made his way almost to the
summit of the wall before the landslide beneath him carried him to
the bottom. He opened the door to reenter his house, and was
greeted by another pile of popcorn in his entryway, blocking the
hall to the interior. He squirmed through anyway.
"Dammit," he exclaimed, "where the hell is all this goddamn
popcorn coming from?!"
No answer was forthcoming. A few moments later, the answer
appeared, but in a form he didn't like. It was large, green,
scaly, and eating his sofa.
He could have sworn it wasn't there a few minutes ago. He
wondered how it had gotten in.
"What the hell is that?" he wondered to himself.
"You know," the thing said politely, "It's very rude to
talk about people in the third person when they're in the room and
there's nobody else there at all."
"By the way, scrumptious sofa you have here."
Floyd pondered the meaning of this comment quietly to
himself for a few moments, then made a tentative reply.
"It's also rather rude to eat people's furniture, and put
piles of popcorn in their homes."
The thing stopped halfway through a bite of his coffee
table.
"It is?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Hmm. I must have been briefed wrong. I was told it was
a polite custom on your planet."
"Well, it isn't."
"Odd, that."
"Yes. Odd. What are you doing here?"
"Well, I'm an emissary from Quintozextotillion, and I'm
here to set up an embassy on this world. You're sure it's impolite
to eat people's furniture and put popcorn in their homes? This is
important now. Are you certain?"
"Positive. Some people might even take offense at it."
"Oh dear. Perhaps I should be on my way. Well, bye now."
"WAIT!" yelled Floyd at the huge creature clambering into
it's space ship. "What about my sofa?"
The thing paused in the airlock and tossed him a cactus.
"Here," it said. "Go buy yourself a GNU one."
Floyd stood in befuddled amusement, and went to put the
cactus in his bedroom, which he found blocked by a pile of popcorn.
He tried to return to the living room, and succeeded only after a
substantial effort to worm past a pile of popcorn that stood in his
way. The cactus, he left behind, deciding it wasn't worth bringing
back.
Look, perhaps I didn't make myself clear before. The GNU Age
of AkheGNUton is upon us. All you worshippers of MOO must
transcend to the gnext level before X-Day, and since GNU is after
MOO (except before Q) in the Greek language, it is the gnext
logical step. So Join With Us, and herald in a GNU Age of Sound.
The GNU Age of Gnegation will gnegate all the evils of the world,
as long as you gnever look back to the times before the
agnouncement of the GNU Age of Gnarl.
The alien was gone by the time he returned, but someone was
standing in a pile of popcorn stuffing as much of it as possible
into his pockets. Floyd boggled at him in amazement that anyone
would blatantly enter his house and steal the popcorn, which,
though he didn't want it, was clearly his property.
The person jumped, startled by his early appearance.
Outside the window, the sun set, and the room was lit by an eerie
glow from the popcorn.
Presumably it had become radioactive from long sitting in
the alien cargo bay.
"Who the hell are you?" Floyd demanded, sensibly.
"I'm just an innocent bystander. I don't know how I got in
here. Don't ask me. I don't know anything about this. Honest.
I'm just an innocent bystander!"
The innocent bystander continued to stuff nuclear popcorn
into his pockets like it was going out of style. Which it
couldn't, for the very sensible reason that it had never been in
style.
Floyd decided, on a whim, that it didn't really matter,
since all the innocent bystander wanted to do was to fill his
pockets with the popcorn, and since Floyd had no overwhelming
desire to keep the popcorn in question, it made perfect sense, from
his point of view, to get rid of it.
The innocent bystander seemed to have virtually limitless
pockets. Either that, or the popcorn had mutated in the radiation
and did some kind of shrinking trick when they were stuffed in,
because the pockets hardly seemed to be filling up at all.
Eventually, the innocent bystander had picked up all of the
huge piles of the offending popcorn, and left. Floyd relaxed on
what remained of his sofa, and turned on what was left of his
television.
There were a few sit-coms in which the "sit"'s were all the
same and there was a decided lack of "com". He fell asleep for a
few hours and missed a commercial for CHIA-WOMBAT, and
Wombat-Whack-O-Matic.
He missed a Crime-Stoppers shot offering a reward for any
and all information leading to the arrest of a small man, about two
feet tall, with no skin, greenish patches, and a four-legged gait
who had stolen a Flame-Red Harley Davidson Motorcycle. He finally
woke up.
There was a news article on about how all the embassies and
government buildings in the world had been mysteriously clogged to
entrance and exit all day by mounds of an unidentified yellowish
white substance resembling glow-in-the-dark styrofoam. An innocent
bystander had, in each case, flown down from the sky aboard a
glider painted with a promotional slogan for "Al Ien's Scrap
Hauling" on the side and removed the offending substance.
You think I'm joking about this GNU thing, don't you? Well,
gnothing is a joke. There are no jokes, because you can't moisten
treasons. Because treasons are dried jokes. And reasons are dried
gropes. But you can't dry gropes. And you can't moisten treasons.
Am I making myself clear GNOW?
Gno? Well, gnever mind, then.
Floyd grimaced, popped a mint in his mouth, and then went
to bed.
The next day was little better, as he was mobbed by a horde
of brick-lobbing beavers. This did little to improve his overall
state of mind, and indeed head, and caused him to be transported
rather hurriedly to the hospital yet again, where he met a man
suffering from radiation poisoning, claiming to have been hit by an
innocent bystander with nuclear popcorn.
"Oh yes?" he asked. "I know him. Took all my popcorn."
"Blast him! Blast him! Blast <gurgle>..."
Floyd leaned over and looked at the man, and decided that
all this staying-at-the-hospital nonsense was just simply going to
have to stop. He got up and left, falling flat on his face the
moment he got out the door, due to an attack from behind of alien-
controlled beavers heaving some pretty hefty bricks.
Confuse-Ius Advertises:
A GNU novella, by High Preest Floyd Gecko and Doubter
CirclBLATTT Disinterested Observer, has been written expanding on
the strange pseudo-logical story from which this confusing myth has
been extruded. It chronicles the birth and death of the Church of
MOO, the end of the world, the arrival of the X-BLATTTs on X-Day,
the Grinch who Stole X-Day, reality-altering drugs, undead wombats,
Floyd Gecko: Man With The Exploding Head, and much, much, much
more. For your own personal manuscript-type copy of this story,
send $10 to the Church Of MOO, P.O. Box 26038, 72 Robertson Rd.,
Nepean, Ontario, Canada, K2H 9Y8. You won't live to regret it. TIME BOMB
As Written by
Floyd Gecko
Based on the screenplay by I Yemen-Oying but not Floyd Gecko,
savagely mangled from the short story invented entirely by I Yemen-
Oying without even the slightest bit of help from Floyd Gecko.
Rewritten without anything even vaguely resembling permission from
the original author, or indeed even his knowledge. Actually, it's
not really by Floyd Gecko at all, when you think about it.
But hey, what the hell, you only live once.
Skumby was a rather nice blue-green planet in the Gamma
Epsilon quadrant of the Galaxy. It had deserts, to be sure, but it
also had forests, which the Skumbags would burn down, it had
oceans, which the Skumbags would dump oil into, and it had clouds,
which the Skumbags would curse for raining acid on them. On the
whole, however, the Skumbags were a fairly decent people.
But I repeat. It WAS a rather nice planet.
The radio in the Janitor's Lounge (First Class Citizens ONLY)
blared out something vaguely resembling music. Saxophones,
violins, and a piano were all being savagely distorted by the
Central Muzak Filter of Skumby into a kind of auditory paste that
dripped down the walls like something tangibly sticky.
It was with only mild relief that I Yemen-Oying and Gettah
Leif heard the bit of sonic mush come to something that seemed to
the DJ to be an end, and the DJ's digitally synthesized voice
commented on the nature of the particular bit of nothingness in
question.
"And that, folks, was a distortion of Mack the Nyke, by Old
Shoes. Stay tuned to SKUM for much much more." Suddenly, there
was the elaborate, but wholly perfunctory, fanfare that announced
the Presidential Address.
"Dear citizens of Skumby, this is your President
interrupting," whined the President, who had been chosen by
computer from all ten billion citizens of Skumby as the single most
nasally whiny voice imaginable, so as to strike aggravation into
the hearts of all Skumbags when he made announcements of bad news.
It was all part of the Muzak-Lovers Association takeover, but
that's not what this story is about.
"It is rumored that the Damfool terrorists have planted a P-
Bomb somewhere on Skumby." From the open window of the Janitorial
lounge, sounds of screams of anguish and terror assailed the
luxurious plush furniture and real foxfur wall hangings.
"As you may or may not be aware," droned the voice, "P-Bombs
are capable of destroying entire planets." The screams multiplied
in volume momentarily until the president drowned them out.
Someone shouting "Don't Worry! Be Happy!" into a megaphone could
be heard briefly over the thronging roar of the crowd.
The President's computer syntesized voice deepened to project
a feeling of security and sincerity. The Skumbags were clearly
intended to know that he meant what he was saying.
"Please don't panic. We assure you that the rumors are
just..." the President paused, either trying to think of the right
word to convey a sense of security, or waiting for the teleprompter
to finish scrolling up. "Rumors," he finished tamely. "Thank
you."
The DJ was allowed control of the precious airwaves for all of
half a second as the sounds of rioting and panic filled the streets
below.
"...and, uh..."
Then the President returned.
"Just a remark, citizens. There is no point in running, since
the bomb would destroy the whole planet. You fools." The last two
words somehow slipped through as the DJ regained his air time.
Some slightly more envigorating and happy music took control
of the radio, as if trying to reassure the people listening on the
giant speaker stacks below that everything was going to be okay.
Honest. Really. No kidding. Sounds of panic subsided. People
sheepishly returned things they'd looted in the thirty seconds of
rioting.
Rag music drifted though the suddenly silent air of the
Janitorial Lounge as Gettah Leif contemplated an Icosa-Puzzle. The
roundish shape seemed to absorb all his attention, while failing to
actually DO anything. He tried twisting a corner piece.
"Dumb rumors," he complained. "Probably started by those
Damfools to get us to panic. But we're not going to panic, are
we?"
Sounds of screaming wafted lazily through the window like a
sluggard being roused from a pleasant dream, complaining that the
coffee was too hot, and that he'd much rather be in bed sleeping.
"No," replied I Yemen-Oying just a little bit too fast.
"We're calm."
Gettah Leif, Janitor, returned his attention to the Icosa-
Puzzle. "Let's see here..." The thing suddenly turned inside out
and went a puzzling shade of mauve.
"Can I see the puzzle?" I Yemen-Oying held out his hand to
catch the soaring object as Gettah tossed it over.
Gettah put his feet up on the velour couch he was reclining
on. "I LIKE this GNU job, you know? Being a first class citizen
gives you a whole GNU perspective on life."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
"You know, on some planets," the rag music made a particularly
cheerful turn, "Janitors are considered lower-class citizens!"
Sounds of screams vaguely echoed about the streets, and Gettah
straightened the flower in the buttonhole on his formal work
clothes.
"Hmm..." was Yemen's only reply, "If I could get this stupid
corner piece over here..."
The music came to an end, and gave way to something
suspenseful, just as if to remind the people of Skumby that they
were about to be blown to smithereens. Not that any of them knew
what a smithereen looked like, but the prospect of being blown into
one was hardly appealing to any of them.
"But not here on Skumby," continued Gettah on his diatribe.
"Here we know what janitors are REALLY worth."
"Dumb corner piece..."
"Hmm," Gettah growled. "Are you listening?"
"Uh, no..."
"Didn't think so."
The President, the only person qualified to order a member of
the Sacred Order of Holy Janitors, came on the PA and began
respectfully. "Uh, better get to work, guys... And, uh... Turn
off the radio?"
Gettah switched off the radio.
"Yeah, okay..." He paused, looking at the unreacheable Yemen.
"Like talking to a wall..."
"Huh?"
As the two Janitors walked from the Lounge to the central hall
of the great Janitorial Temple and Yemen tucked the Icosa-Puzzle
into his large worksuit pocket, panic sounds could be heard vaguely
over the Presidential Fanfare that blared from loudspeakers.
"It's me again..." The President's smile could be heard. In
the distance, someone shoved cotton balls in his ears.
The President's voice deepened again. "I ask of you AGAIN not
to panic, notwithstanding the fact that we may all be blasted to
space dust in a few hours." Screams and yells of agony wafted
through the great hall.
"The Schnag-Wave scans indicate..." the great Wallscreens
showed a massive Schnag terminal. The words 'Conclusion: HELP!!'
had been covered by a strategically placed cup of coffee. "...that
there is a P-Bomb in the north-west quadrant. But don't worry. P-
Bombs can be easily defused once found. Just look for anything
that doesn't seem to be serving any obvious purpose." Gettah
looked at Yemen with a raised eyebrow. "Please resume normal life,
and pretend you're not about to be blown away."
The fanfare died away like a wounded animal.
"Pretend you're not about to be blown up?" Yemen's protest
echoed through the marble pillars of the Janitorial Temple.
"Yeah," sneered Gettah. "There's tact and subtlety for ya.
Whoah!" Gettah broke off his sneer as he came across an unexpected
box in the middle of the floor and fell on his head.
Gettah sat up with a groan, and Yemen jumped in with a helpful
comment.
"What a stupid place to leave a box!"
The box sat there in the middle of the floor, screaming "HI!
I'M THE BOMB!" with all it's very being. Or rather, suggesting it
to any being with a sufficiently developed cerebrum, if not
actually emitting sonic vibrations of that variety.
"Uh, wait a sec..." Gettah seemed to grasp the idea of
something being wrong with what was obviously a power conduit of
some kind sitting in the middle of the polished marble floor of the
entrance hall to the Temple. He pondered it for a moment more.
"It might," he decided after a second's thought, "be the
bomb."
Had this been a television show, there would undoubtedly have
been a closeup on Yemen's horrified reaction, a dramatic chord, and
a lengthy commercial break advertising products designed to improve
the life of everyone pestered by social rejection and adolescent
spots. However, it wasn't, and it didn't. Yemen's reaction went
uncaptured by film.
Their panicked shouts resonated in the hall.
"Whadda we do? Whadda we do?" Gettah was so flustered he
dropped his broom.
"Uh," said Yemen, helpfully, and reached out to grab the
mysterious box. A crackle of electricity went ZAP, and the lights
went out, leaving the hall in utter blackness.
Gettah's "Or maybe it isn't..." could be heard echoing in the
huge chamber for a moment.
"Gettah Leif?"
"Yeah?"
"Get a life."
"Oops." Gettah gave a shrug that didn't help much in the
gloom.
Confuse-Ius Would Like To Point Out:
ALL SINNERS REPENT!
WORSHIP THE TRUE GOD QUACK!
NOW!
C'MON! HOP TO IT!
A ghostly fanfare could be heard through the hall.
"That power outage was caused by the energy drain required for
the Schnag-Wave scans, but we have determined that the P-bomb is
the in the capital city of Hikkup. We will find it, don't worry."
There was a loud thump, and the lights came up with a whine.
Gettah was lying face down on the floor.
"Ooooh... Stupid wall."
"Whoa! Are you all right?" Yemen rushed over anxiously.
"Yeah, I guess so. I just had a thought."
"What?"
"Well, the blackout wasn't caused by you pulling the box out
of the ground, right?"
"Yeah? SO?"
"SO... what WAS the box for?"
"Well, I guess it was the..."
Another moment was lost as their expressions of horror were
neither captured on 18mm, nor used to introduce a fast food
commercial.
"So what do we do? WHAT DO WE DO?" Yemen bounced about
nervously, like a caged mongoose when someone dangles a plastic
snake in front of its nose.
"I dunno! Try to smash it or something!"
They set to work beating the thing with their brooms and mops,
but it stubbornly refused to break into a zillion little component
P-Bomb parts. Gettah threw it into the air, drop kicked it,
stomped on it, and bashed it about. Nothing happened.
Yemen balled up his fists in frustration.
"WHY THAT [insert your favourite swear word here] BOMB!!!"
The box, unable to withstand that kind of treatment, went off
and sulked in a corner of its own mind and fell apart into wires,
circuits, and a lot of indestructible frame.
"That was easy," Gettah remarked.
"That's why we're First-Class citizens, us Janitors." Yemen's
smile as they began to sweep up the mess would have cracked an egg,
had the egg actually tried to fit the whole thing on its face.
Which, on the surface, seems unlikely.
Back in the Janitorial Lounge (First Class Citizens ONLY!),
the DJ interrupted another serving of pasty pseudomusic.
"This just in. Apparently the P-Bomb has been defused. We
owe thanks to a certain Gettah Leif and I Yemen-Oying." The DJ
paused, slightly miffed. The Wallscreens showed a picture of
Gettah and Yemen standing by the wall of the Janitorial Temple next
to the remains of the P-Bomb, wearing goofy "Hi Mom" expressions.
"Big deal," the DJ continued. "I could have done it myself,
if I'd had the chance. Stay tuned to SKUM for more."
Yemen stared with intense concentration at the puzzle in his
hands. It seemed totally unsolveable.
"You STILL haven't figured out the puzzle?" Gettah laughed
slightly at the sheer incompetence of SOME Janitors.
"NO," said Yemen angrily. "And I'd like to see you try it,
MISTER SAVIOUR." Yemen growled. Why should Gettah get first
billing on the radio, when HE had destroyed the bomb?
"Sure," said Gettah confidently. "It's simple. Look."
Gettah fiddled contentedly with the Icosa-Puzzle, getting the
corner piece that Yemen had complained about so vehemently.
"Just like this..." He slid one panel sideways.
"And like this..." He rotated a corner again.
"It's not gonna work THAT way," protested Yemen angrily.
"And... there! All done."
Gettah sat back contentedly and displayed the solved Icosa-
Puzzle.
Yemen stared in disbelief.
There was a slight PING noise, and the puzzle became a
transparent sphere.
Gettah dropped it, allowing it to fall to the sofa beside him,
and stared in horror.
"HUH?"
The thing began to emit a bright, unbearable light. A rising
whine came from inside it somewhere, as it became a burning beacon,
sort of like one of those big flashtube things, you know?
"THE BOMB!" Screamed Yemen superfluously. "THE PUZZLE WAS
THE BOMB ALL ALONG!" But his redundant shouts were quickly masked
by the rising roar of the bomb.
A pillar of flame blasted off most of one half of the planet,
destroying cities, mountains, Skumbags, and doughnut shop
franchises alike. The molten innards of the planet were scattered
around the sky like so many cracker crumbs and Ming Vase fragments
after a particuarly violent party swarmed through the houses of
several innocent bystanders.
As planet Skumby was blasted to molten fragments, some say a
scourge of really annoying people was wiped from the face of the
universe.
But then, most of the people who said that were residents of
the planet Damfoo, which was blown up not long afterwards.
"Gettah Leif?"
"Yeah?"
"Get a life." Death Of A Holy-Grailsman
By Low Preest Goyd Flecko
"Look, Floyd, if there's all these CIA mind-reading satellites
up in orbit..."
Gecko-The-Dense interrupted the new Acolyte with a precise
voice, and a muddled brain, and chided knowingly at her.
"Nay, nay," he said from the depths of a ridiculous-looking
cowled robe which stretched off his cardboard throne and some way
towards the door, as if making good its escape.
"Nay, nay?"
"Exactly. There are no mind-control satellites up in orbit."
"Oh no! Not this screwed-up nonexBLATTTence thing again! I
couldn't understand that! What the fuck was with that anyway? The
satellites' beams are so powerful they can affect you even though
they don't exBLATTT? That's insipid bullshit."
"Yah," said Gecko, quickly changing his mind about what
diversion to use. "The satellites aren't in orbit at all...
They're, uhh... On the ground. All around us. Yeah. Because
they work better at close range."
"Yeah? So if there's all these satellites sitting around on
the ground reading our minds for the CIA, then how come nobody
notices them?"
"Ah, well, that's a good question," said Gecko, thinking as
fast as he could. "I'm glad you asked me that."
"Well?"
"Well, the answer is simple. Mmmmm... What it is, is that
people actually DO notice them all the time, but they never talk
about it. These aren't just mind-READING satellites, remember.
They're mind-CONTROL satellites. It just stops people from talking
about it."
"But I KNOW I've never seen them before."
"No, you have, you just can't SAY so. That's all. They make
you act just as if you'd never seen them. So, for all practical
purposes, you never did."
"But I..."
"You can't even admit it to yourself. They'd detect that, and
stop it. So, I suppose you could say you never notice them."
"Ah... So how come people don't, like, trip over them, or
drive into them and break them?"
"Well, they arrange it in our minds so that we drive around
them, and that we never notice the traffic jams that causes, and
that we bandage up all our scrapes and bruises from tripping over
them, and never remember."
"And nobody sees the bandages?"
"Of course."
"So the whole world's just a fake. They're spending all their
time pretending they aren't here."
"Basically, yep."
"So anything could just be an illusion."
"Uh huh," scintillated the Gecko.
"Bull."
"Turn around." The Gecko waggled a finger in a circle.
The Acolyte turned around slowly, a full circle, and noticed
that the Gecko was gone.
"Whar'd that little varmint get to now?" The stupid-looking
robe had entirely disappeared, but there was no way Gecko could
have run away so quickly with that monstrosity to lug around.
"WHERE THE FUCK?"
"He was never there at all, you know."
"WHAT?" She whirled around and whipped out a blade
reflexively.
"Funny."
She looked down at the spoon she was holding, and dropped it
slowly. The wombat in front of her ambled across the room, and she
turned to watch. The lighting shifted slightly as she realized one
of the walls was missing, and the room suddenly opened onto the
bleak airless environment of the Moon. The Earth sat nonchalantly
in the sky just above the horizon. She whirled to look behind her.
There was no room there either. She turned again to face the
wombat, and found herself on a sun-baked field of something which
must once have been grass, but which generations of non-
precipitation and the precursors to the scattered locust-corpses
had long since turned to dust.
"What the FUCK?"
"Floyd Gecko was never there. He was busy elsewhere at the
time." The little wombat rolled casually through the dust and into
a suddenly nearby lake, stood up with a start, and shook itself
off.
"So what up, little dude? Who are you?"
"WOMBAT."
"I can see that, but... Ohhh, you mean the pooter."
"Yah. Pooter, that's me." The Wombat shrugged internally.
Close enough. Computer was a decent metaphor for what it was.
"So? What up?"
"Generated images. You notice it cuts into reality without
any noticeable blur? I can change your memory slightly to edit the
fake stuff in with the real without any noticeable shift."
"No shit, huh?"
"Nope. Just the facts, ma'am," lied the Wombat.
"So lemme out."
"K."
She turned around, and saw a hut with a corrugated tin roof.
She walked towards it, and opened the strangely sturdy door, and
stepped through... back into the Gecko's stupid Throne Room.
She looked back for the Wombat. There was no door, but it was
sitting behind her scratching its head absently.
"How do I know you let me out?"
"You don't. You'll just have to trust me."
"How can I? I don't know what you're up to, but you wouldn't
show me that, dump me back in reality, and just STOP, would you?"
"I don't know, WOULD I?"
"Mebbe."
"What for?"
"To prove a point?"
"That's something Floyd would do."
"Mmmm."
"But I see your point. What if I'm lying about what I am? I
could say I'll turn it off and show you, but that wouldn't help.
I could try to convince you, but it'd never work. Once you doubt
your senses, the rest goes along with it."
"Yah? Y'don't say."
"Nope, I don't."
Then there was a wombat.
Then there was no wombat.
Then there was. CONVOLUTION INCARNATE
The Wombat World had subsisded, the insanity had faded
subtly back into the wherever-it-was-that-the-wombat-world-
had-come-from from whence it came. All that persBLATTTed was a
kind of Authorial Stupidity, which ended up looking, in the Book of
the HBLATTTory of the World (an annoying mind drug kept in the
Great MOO's own Library), like some of the worst writing ever seen
in any book of any kind ever written. This is a tale of what
happened during those strange and turbulent years, some hundred
thousand years after the founding of the Church Of MOO.
Floyd Gecko, or at least a wormhole-matrix version of one
of the minds of one of his many billions of clones, a residual from
the Wombat World, had been exploring a certain planet called
Skumby. What he had found was shocking, chilling, and about as
surprising as finding the Eiffel Tower in your jacket pocket.
Which is more surprising than the human mind can comfortably
encompass, given that at that time, the Eiffel Tower had long since
rusted to little tiny bits no larger than a thumbtack. The
shocking, chilling, and about-as-surprising-as-finding-the-long-
since-rusted-to-bits-yet-brand-spanking-new-Eiffel-Tower-in-your-
jacket-pocket-while-you're-standing-in-the-middle-of-a-desert-
halfway-across-the-Galaxy-from-anywhere-your-jacket-has-any-
right-to-be-on-a-night-like-this-anyway-and-just-who-did-it-
think-it-was-coming-all-this-way-and-spending-YOUR-hard-earned-
money-to-buy-spacefare-just-to-show-you-some-silly-old-
architectural-masterpeice-that-doesn't-even-exBLATTT-anymore-
not-to-mention-the-key-aspect-of-an-unruly-hyphenated-adjective-in
the-middle-of-an-utterly-ridiculous-and-totally-ungrammatical-myth-
whose-author-evidently-didn't-even-know-what-was-funny-and-what-
was-just-plain-tedious-let-alone-rules-of-grammar-like-when-to-use-
a-comma-instead-of-a-parenthesis-and-stuff-like-that-there thing
which he had discovered was an ancient and well-preserved ruin of
an ancient and not-very-well-preserved race.
This race (which is NOT, by the way, the subject of any
long or unruly hypenated adjectives (but will, in a paragraph or
two be the subject of an incredibly long sequence of parenthetical
comments (not entirely unlike this one, but worse))) was truly
remarkable. It had its own Church Of MOO. Wierd, eh?
The temple was a strange thing that lived above the planet,
a thing that orbited looking like a baton-twirler's baton stuck
between a basketball and a dinner plate. On the ends of the baton
lived two creatures of pure light, named gNuBlUkTuK and GnUbLuKtUk.
But that's not the point. The point is, the race which built this
temple were descended from Schnagglebarthbats (Schnagglebarthbats
were originally native to Andorria (despite common and utterly
unfounded rumours that they were from Deneb) and not Deneb (told
you), but were totally brainless until humans met them for the
first time (humans eventually had to uplift the Schnagglebarthbat
race to make it worth talking to (this was done to many races
throughout the Galaxy, but Schnagglebarthbats (pronounced:
Shnaggle-bart-bats) were among the most interesting (not because
they were from Andorria (though Andorria is indeed one of the more
interesting planets in the Galaxy (being as it is home to so many
strange creatures, of which Schnagglebarthbats were only one
(another interesting race of the planet, and somewhat relevant
here, is the MOOing Lump Of Yukky Stuff (actually, the name tells
you ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about what the creature is like (the people
who named it were ConfusionBLATTTs (the Peterson Twins, the ones
who, between them, named most of the planets and animals in the
Galaxy, were devout ConfusionBLATTTs)) on account of it is actually
quite a pleasant animal (it resembles a spherical ball of fluff
which purrs (further information on the MOOing Lump Of Yukky Stuff
may be found in the Encylopaedia Galactica (then again, it may not,
depending on if you can FIND the book (the Encyclopaedia has a
habit of hiding itself in strange places in the databases, such as
under "W" for "What if you want to look up something in the
Encyclopaedia" (this is as nothing compared to the poorly edited,
badly written, and totally disorganized Book itself (the entries
are NOT indexed, impossible to find, and in ANYTHING but
Alphabetical Order, on top of which they range in length from the
truly massive article on Pomegranates (the article's author was an
Immortal being from another planet, who had several thousand years
with nothing to do but research (the article therefore would be
something on the order of a hundred thousand tonnes if actually
printed on paper)) to the short article on Guacamole (which reads,
in its entirety "Guacamole is" (most people don't dispute the truth
of this, but generally agree that the article wasn't finished when
the author suffered a fatal heart attack from overeating (a common
enough event among humans, though not among the ORIGINAL topic of
this parenthetical commentary, Schnagglebarthbats (which were, as
has been noted, NOT the only inhabitants of their home planet, but
in fact were one of the most interesting (though they lack the COW
perspective to notice the similarity (this is due mostly to the
fact that the divide themselves up into different categories, such
as Andorrian Schnagglebarthbats, Denebian Schnagglebarthbats, those
Schnagglebarthbats with little green tufts of fur on their temples,
and so forth (this is probably easier to understand with a little
knowledge of the shape of a Schnagglebarthbat (which is extremely
interesting (consBLATTTing as it does of a head which makes up
most the body's mass (it is generally twice the height of the body,
and made of almost solid bone (for reasons which will become clear
in a moment (or at least, less muddy than they are now)) and a
small body with utterly useless wings (the overall impression is of
a gargoyle seen in a funhouse mirror (the dBLATTTorted proportions
have no apparent explanation (the giant head, for instance, which
appears to have only ever been used to protect the
Schnagglebarthbat while it engaged in its normal mode of sleeping
(this consBLATTTed of hanging by the head between two protruding
rocks in the caves in which they lived (thus the thick skull) and
appears to have been a result of having to sleep with such a huge
head (the circularity here has baffled evolutionologBLATTTs for a
long time (but not nearly so much as their strange language, which
consBLATTTs entirely of the equivalent of the letters "A", "G", "U"
and "L" (and can only be pronounced by humans if they gargle at the
same time) which spell out certain protein molecules in their
letters (each protein which corresponds to any short work of
literature translated into their language is invariably incredibly
beneficial to humans if they eat it (which has led to the project
of swallowing War And Peace in the Schnagglebarthbat language to
see what it does (it eventually caused the heads of all
test-subjects to explode for no good reason (this mass-spontaneous-
combustion only ever happened once before, on the planet of
Palapamostaron (whose tallest building, the Star Tower, is
so tall (hundreds of thousands of kilometers) that the planet of
Palapamostaron is widely known (among those who can pronounce it)
as the greatest planet for curing Vertigo ever found (but is also
well known as the hardest place in the Galaxy to get a decent
Chicken Dumstick after the Star Torus of Raj Mak (in both places
the government illegalized Chicken Drumsticks after a
mBLATTTranslation of an ancient religious text suggested to them
that the Fifth Commandment of the Holy Honker was actually "Thou
shalt not eat any chicken drumsticks unto thee" (the original
stated "Thou shalt not brutally massacre cattle with thy chainsaw",
which translates much better in the original Schnagglebarthbat (the
complete holy work of which causes all humans who eat it to turn
into small piles of Chicken Drumsticks (but most people aren't very
interested in the Schnagglebarthbat religious literature, being
more fascinated by Jatramar literature (which contains such classic
lines as "when thou find any other peoples of the world, thou shalt
send unto them a large emmissary, clad in a chicken suit, of fifty
meters in height, which shall be invisible to the eye, and deliver
unto one of their number a Candy-Gram, and shall leave behind one
who shall steal away all kazoos of thy enemy, and thou shalt then
attack them with six thousand, seven hundred nine and a half of thy
number" (this has in fact led to the speculation that the so-called
Kazoo-Teleportation-effect (in which it is believed that kazoos
have a tendency to teleport away through wormholes to the location
of other kazoos and so on until massive piles of the instruments
gather dust on some Alien World) is actually a result of Jatramar
cultBLATTTs))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) and were a
rather nice bunch of people all around.
Actually, this myth has no point.
Just ignore it, and maybe it'll go away.
At any rate, it doesn't call attention to the name of the
planet, or the fact that it WASN'T called Calotia, from which came
the only known species of sentient Rutabaga in the Galaxy, which
dances incessantly, since a Rutabaga Death Dance must be going on
in the Universe in order for Death to take place. This myth also
refuses to mention that the GNU World Order euphemBLATT for Death
is "Tax Exemption", or that Calotian Rutabagas show respect for
Gods by acting impatient, for reasons best left unexplained.
In fact, this myth says ABSOLUTELY NOTHING FURTHER on the
subject of ANY imaginary beings which don't exBLATTT in this
Universe anyway.
Except to mention that it won't talk about them any more.
END
Confuse-Ing Inter-Rapture #5
³³º۳ÝÞۺ³³Þ ݺ۳ ³ÝÝ
³³º۳ÝÞۺ³³Þ ݺ۳ ³ÝÝ
³³º۳ÝÞۺ³³Þ ݺ۳ ³ÝÝ
³³º۳ÝÞۺ³³Þ ݺ۳ ³ÝÝ
³³º۳ÝÞۺ³³Þ ݺ۳ ³ÝÝ
³³º235-1729-13013-5ÝQ³Ý
Confuse-Ius Once Say "pgAARgyMxyMQTAHDrqvA/5k42TRWQCYiykIv44qqWDJZf
9qAK0VLxwo4Ijb/3NOcPnORkSf3JYNrKIDvHi4VXf9HLS3prh9VTWujlDZ77yqjqE
Bo3q0QdxdlwfV9KVcgNd0ybT8YUdoRSe99IpUldMSgeZn3u7yGzqEoZDo5n5 to you
TOO, buddy!" CyberMyth a la Martinez
Range of History Glyphs. Prerecorded preverbal prescription
against ignorance. Neural tweaks, MagRez helmets.
Flash. Unistat. Unified North America. Canada, United
States, Mexico. Three languages, three cultures, three nations.
English, French, Spanish.
Flash. Hanstruria. American midwest, Canadian Prairies.
High Tech Nationhood, Guide-run pseudodemocracy. Capital,
Edmonton, first Dome City in the world. Cybersecessionism in the
2150's.
Flash. Edmonton. Mall mole haven. Subways hooking up to
apartments, to the mall. Cold weather. Giant Mall. West Edmonton
Mall, bigger than big. 2020, definitive proof. No city outside
the mall. Size of Manhattan, closed environment.
Flash. Economy. Edmonton, hub of techdom. Unistat surpasses
Singapore in 2043 for GNP, comeback from third-world. Central
computers, biochips, neural architecture.
Flash. La Grand Beigne. The Big Doughnut. Unistat minus
Hanstruria. Imperial Police, bureaudemocracy. French puns.
Battles for Edmonton. Space Bubbles refuse to intervene, E.A. has
no comment. Fireworks on the 1st of July.
Flash. Space Bubbles. Soap sheen glistening. Giant globs of
air and water, surrounded by Edmonton cyberplastic sheeting.
Holographic, electrodynamic, pseudodemocratic Bubble leader.
Flash. Equatorial Alliance. Orbital power stations.
Geostationary. Beamdown to equator. Political strings. Monopoly
of energy-rich states. Decentralize the Oil Monopoly.
Flash. Yorba Linda, Ottawa, Tenochtitlan. Religion Factories
cranking out cults and self-replicating meme patterns daily.
Mental viruses to "enforce" Imperial Police, to infiltrate the
unspecified enemy. Polish of Craziness.
Flash. Singapore. Decaying ruins. Once great techworld.
Subways rusted, computers ten weeks old. Veneer, not of society,
but of moss on the buildings. Cleaning crews unemployed. Gum
becomes legal again. Litterbugs rejoice again.
When Martinez was three, her family joined the Yo-Yo Kult.
Yo-Yo prayer wheels were to be spun at least ten thousand times per
day, sending karmic messages to Yoy'o, the messenger of the Gods.
A week later, they joined the Reformed Church Of MOO. Cow-noises
were to be made, and strange rituals performed to appease the
Invisible Alien Cyberloonie Elvis Clones. A never-ending cycle of
religion permeated her mental mesh.
When Martinez was six, her home city of Edmonton was declared
capital of the fledgeling nation of Hanstruria. She had no idea
why. She had little understanding of the world outside her niche
of dataspace and the transport grid of Mall City. She had even
less comprehension that she was a member of the privileged
technical elite, to even INHABIT Mall City, let alone have
dataspace.
When Martinez turned eight, her "dad" tossed her a datapack in
her privileged bliss. "History Glyphs", he'd explained. It was a
prerecorded neural memory modification package courtesy of the
Damjaniczak Machine, cyberplas temple of truth and personality
backups. It held copies of minds of everyone in Edmonton.
Probably, she'd always assumed, there were others in other cities,
linked together. They were the "Guardians Of Society". Educators
Extraordinaire.
The equivalent of ten years historical education later, her
Edmontonian brain held as many historical facts and analyses as the
World Library at 16:34:12.56, 2021/05/23, though only a fraction of
what it held the next day. Even Neosapiens can only hold so much.
Edmontonian Brains are hot shit on the neuro-Black-Market. If you
have a Hanstruria-Capital tattoo on your scalp, watch out in Tokyo,
Amsterdam, Delhi or Singapore, or some Brainlegger will wipe your
jelly and stick in some aging pseudoaristocrat.
Funny thing, though... No analysis on the Damjaniczak Machine
itself. No comment on how it was probably holding actual human
evolution back in permanent stagnation. No point-out of its five
magnitude-order bigger fiberlinks to Yorba Linda, Ottawa, and
Tenochtitlan. Facts were there, but the association patterns
hadn't been prebiased.
Funny ol' thing, life.
Yes, dear Martinez had been slotted for the prestressed,
pretested, presimulated program of 'Pooter 'Ponent, to be and to
run, 'till software obsolescence do us part. Genetic sex
tendencies switched "off" by tailored phage #645345342, D.M.
requisite 6, brain souped up to the D.M. maximum level, permitted
the optimum privilege, 'POOTER 'PONENT.
She got to be part of the giant INFOWEB that was sweeping the
'net. Data-net and Pla-net, that is. But outside Edmonton, she
wasn't entirely aware, it hardly existed at all. Inside Mall City,
there was bustle, plugged-in-ness. No computer more than three
hours old, recycling blue-boxes every street corner. Singapore?
Back woods! TEN WEEKS! But that never occurred to her either.
See, the D.M. hadn't exactly designed her to fit in outside
itself. Igor Damjaniczak's semideified cortex simulation, IQ
amplified to a thousand times, it wanted to use her hyperneurons
for itself. Simulator space.
But, well, Fate, Brother Entropy, and the Unistat Government
played a maybe not so little role in showing off that just
possibly, Igor D. didn't know what the fuck he was talking about.
It came in the form of a blinding flash, and seconds later, a
rumbling boom from the roof of the Mall. Decameters-long shards of
concrete rained like Delta-Pavonis dust onto less than unsuspecting
citizens, later reincarnated from backup copies into freshly
designed GNU bodies. They let that kind of thing happen to them
every few days, or they'd be Singapore-obsolete.
Martinez was ready for a massive monolithic clump of silicon
dioxide to cut short her current processor when the thing hummed
out of the sky. Like Glinda the Good Witch from Wizard of Oz, she
thought, correlating one of the 'tainment glyphs from a few short
soft cushioned years ago. It was soap-bubbly, drifting at extreme
velocity.
It came up short with a hum-whine of nanocillia on the plastic
film backpedalling fast. They holoprojected an image of Glinda
herself, standing, waving a wand.
"You are Martinez, J., P.P. component 225j-T17?"
"Only on a tuesday." Overpopulation, lack of fertlizer, and
cybersoul backups brought that about. Unistat hadn't been
informed. They dealt with Hanstruria, the Poster Model. Backwards
anti-tech, probably manipulated.
"Don't be fucking clever, asshole. Come with me if you want
to live." Glinda was Arnold Schwartzenegger, 5-o'clock shadow and
dark glasses, holding out a hand.
Martinez grabbed on, plastered to Glinda's bubble with
nanocillia, backpedealled away up towards the hole in the ceiling.
Less elite shouted things like "HELP" and "WHAT'S GOING ON?"
as they lifted alike.
"If I want to live?" Martinez finally asked.
"Okay, so I lied." Glinda's Guidelike holo shrugged, and the
cyberplas erased Martinez's memory with a MagRez eliminator
program, leaving only the raw neurocrap and some pretty heavy
religion memes in the chemical soupmix, just add water and stir.
Well, that was pretty much the end of that for the present
incarnation of that Martinez, but then, the hardware always was the
important thing. Not like she'd had much of a personal memory
outside yer basic imprints.
Anyway, the waking voices of the water-and-stir version were
imprinted thus:
"The Ameristat Bald Wombat is nearly extinct! Shame that the
Unistat should create it, adopt it as mascot, and then drive it out
of its unnatural habitat!"
"Traitor! The Bald Wombat is the cause of severe histamine
reactions in the populations of Arizona and California."
"Tailored bugs?"
"Not tailored suits, that's for sure."
"Well, my point is just that..."
And that was just about all she understood before it went into
something about environmental stuff for which the brain had no
remaining history glyphs...
"Inhibitation Species... Purple Loosestrife, Cane Toads,
Zebra Mussels, Gypsy Moths... Industrial Contamination... Heavy
Metals, Organics, Acid Rain, Greenhouse Effect, Ozone Layer...
Genetics... Ameristat Bald Wombat, Chinese Elephant-Potato,
Sahara/Mojave/Gobi Plasticactus, Tree-Surgeons, Sea-Horse, The
When-Pigs-Fly Disaster... Faulty Informations... Chernobyl,
Challenger, Hab One, Lunagorod-Tritsit-Adeen..."
And the rest was faded nonsense.
Martinez drifted in and out of consciousness. Many memories
had been erased by the MagRez. Typically Neo Sapiens, the first
thing she said when she woke was "New software, GNU hardware, same
soul: unexpected. Origin location query?"
Only she didn't, exactly.
Because she got as far as "New sof..." when she noticed a
giant standing over her.
"Martinez, J?"
She nodded mutely, noticing that her words hadn't made a sound
anyway.
"Your cybersoul has been read into a lizard body. The body
you're in has been engineered to accomodate your prestressed neural
configurations. Each one must be tailored to one Neo Sapiens only.
If you want to talk, visualize a short purple giraffe opening a
door. To stop, visualize a gorilla in a bowling alley stopping
clocks."
Her memory-free, bias-burdened brainware bungled through
memory to find "giraffe". Mall City had over a hundred in Zoo, but
she'd never been to Zoo. The mental icon triggered some kind of
brainbox, a switch went on, and an artificial voice peeped from
behind her head.
"Memory ident glyphs location query? Original bootstrap
location query? Current physical status query? Current physical
location query?"
"Yeah, I got your memories here, but they ain't exactly what
we need for you. So catch some REAL human mind glyphs. Rare
commodity in these parts."
With a pseudoclick, a brainbox component released an identity
glyph stolen by a Brainlegger.
Flash. Anger. Violent childhood. Mother trapped in burning
building. Father never known. Stealing mouldy bread from a
squalid marketplace. Unistat military actions. Smart-Bombs
screaming overhead towards unknown Hanstruria. Acropoli gates
closed, the pseudoprivileged semi-elite keeping their "modern life"
for themselves.
Pseudoclick, and Flash. Three-week old computers.
Nanosynthetic food. Cheap power. Pseudoprivilege? Well, yes and
no. And maybe. Universe is not binary. Philosophical thoughts
with an AI supervisor, physics in the afternoon, sex in the
evenings, underneath a genuine Tree-Surgeon, almost extinct.
Pseudoclick, and Flash. LIFE! Surfing! Fucking! Eating!
NAPPING! Playing with a Yo-Yo WITHOUT Religion! Going on walks!
Joyous life! Speaking Street! Cuddling a weightless rabbit!
V.R.? FUCK THAT!
"G'wan."
"We needed your brain for our mainframe, too."
"And?"
"You've been transplanted into a modified Gecko. It's a kind
of lizard suited to what we need ya for. Work for us for a year,
and you'll get a human body back."
"Sappenin'?"
"Our Smart-Bombs got under laser zaps into the Protected Zone,
picked you up on a Fairy-Bubble, hauled yer ass back here."
"Tchawant?"
"Your brain's being used, which was the main purpose, but we
want a spy in Malaysia, and a Gecko's the best way. We had these
Neo Sapiens transplant genes, and figured what the fuck."
"Wherezis?"
"Archaememe dig at Yorba Linda."
Martinez walked along the counter and peered out the window,
gazed at the Colossus' head poking up from beneath the harbour.
The building they were on had floated near it, and the ripples
Nixon's head created on the waves sent sparkling light patterns
over the walls.
"Sup?"
"Malaysia. Decision circuits. Don't worry, we'll do a backup
before you go. You won't want to lose your GNU mind now, would
you?"
"Nope."
"'Kay. Brainbox! Get this sucker's cybersoul on dot!"
A moment of disorientation, facing a different way.
"Well, your first body died in Malaysia, sad to say. Seems a
brainlegger from Amsterdam figured out a way to use our brainboxes
for something, and scooped them out. We got most of the
information, though. You'll only have to go back for a week more.
Here's a glyph."
Pseudoclick and Flash. Maniac. Dossier. Other things.
Clipped and abbreviated, diffraction-logic fringes where certain
things in his past had been extrapolated.
It was two days later that Martinez was stretched on a rack.
The maniac had been torturing a strawberry on a nearby press,
tweezers automatically selecting random seeds and PINGing them,
electrogram measuring the changes, AI-Artie plotting 'em through a
human brain model. Words spilled out a speech synthesizer as if in
desperation.
"I swear, I knew nothing about The Overlords. If there WERE
aliens involved, the Radishes must have had connectsions, the Mint
plants were involved, I don't know, but MY KIND WERE NOT CONTACTED.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
"From strawberries under torture, one may extract all sorts of
useful information," claimed the maniac, paraphrasing the jest of
one of the most brilliant jesters of all time. He turned to the
needles poised over Martinez. Her tiny Gecko fingers were useless
to climb away. Her independent Gecko eyes roamed over the room
frantically.
"It's the Trinary Millennium!" Screamed the strawberry as a
seed was extracted. "The trinary year Common Era jumps to E-7 time
in ten years! At that point, the turnover will happen!"
The maniac jumped.
"Apple turnover?" His query was directed now not at the rack-
wracked berry, but a fruit beset with a mutant form of beri-beri.
Maniac, yes, but Martinez couldn't help but sense a twisted form of
irony in there. The apple refused to answer.
The purple giraffe opened the door.
"Mystic-bull."
The maniac spun.
"So you DO talk."
"Nyet." The gorilla stopped all the clocks in the Yorba Linda
bowling alley she envisioned with her most powerful fit of will.
The maniac scowled.
The door burst open, kicked by a Cybermerc. Martinez couldn't
help envisioning the purple giraffe's neck snap when it happened,
and tripped a switch which probably wasn't supposed to exist, and
accidentally blew away her rescue squad.
The maniac chortled.
Only she hadn't. They were armoured, and a tailfull of
flechettes wasn't enough. The turtle-like cast of helmet, armour,
toolshell, and power-tail seemed marginally impressive.
The maniac cowered.
"It's about time you showed up," she said in Franglanish.
"Maybe someone better release the strawberry, and find a Tree-
Surgeon for that apple."
The strawberry muttered a breath of thanks.
The Cybermerc did something nasty to the maniac, and followed
her instructions.
Eventually she got untied, and it was five days before she
came back to Yorba Linda, scenic capital of Unistat, site of the
beautiful San Andreas Canyon, and an imaginary bowling alley she'd
envisioned.
"Your brainbox reveals he was working on something about
Damjaniczak's later work. Maniac, mad scientist, we don't know,
but he was somehow on to something."
"The strawberry had inside information," said Martinez the
Gecko, licking an eyeball casually.
"You think?"
"Must have."
"Well, Damjaniczak ain't the business of the Archaememe dig,
so I guess we'll have to abandon that line of research."
"But... How do you know that?" Neo Sapiens intelligence,
overlaid on Human suspicion.
"Know what?"
"That it's nothing to do? Brainbox records show my biases
were prestressed against thinking of the D.M., and FOR processing
the memes that get made in Religion Factories like the one over
there..." She tongue-gestured at a building that was moving slowly
past the window.
"And?"
"Coverup? Conspiracy?"
"Paranoid. But if you think it's important, you're gonna be
getting a GNU body anyway."
"Whatever."
Her GNU body was weird. She was just adapting to the GNU
diurnal rhythm of the thing in the training centers of the huge
building, getting used to moving human joins with a cybersoul
trimmed for a tailored gecko.
But... Wait, no lecture, catch the cybersoul glyph...
Flash. Cybersoul. Cybernetics, Norbert Wiener. General
Systems control. Soul, theology. Ineffable. Only now it's been
effed. Cybersoul is the processor that makes a personality out of
experience, the hardwire, when coded on softwire software, the
genetic presets and the imprinted givens. BLFFFFT.
Same soul, different memories, but mostly the same... Biases,
personal life... Well, a host of Martinez's somewhere in Unistat
and Hanstruria had provided those. Still, it was just a MagRez
wipe, not a full nanoscan, so she was mostly the same person.
"It's like, your mind changes all the time, as you see GNU
stuff, but it's made of the same basic impulses. Same shit,
different pile. Same with the body, nutrient replenishment,
pattern alteration, crap like that. Ten seconds apart, I'm
practically the same, but ten years apart, there's no telling,
aside from memes and genes, the basic unalterable units. Plus the
rootcore cybersoul."
"Wombatshit. That is SO MUCH WOMBATSHIT!"
She shrugged.
"I used to be Neo Sapiens, no personality, just integrated
unit. Igor Damjaniczak's version of the ideal human. Sick twisted
fuck that he was. Then I was a lizard with no memories, then I was
a lizard with identities taken from someone else, programmed for a
certain job. Now I'm a Scoper, in a Homo Sapiens habitus. But I
still FEEL like me. It's just accelerated learning. I'm still the
same person I was, deep down, because you just can't take that
feeling away with any tech developed yet."
"Wombatshit. It's STILL wombatshit."
"You ain't done it, mack."
"You ain't neither, sister, so fuck off."
"Okay, fine, so skip the sermon, just tell me where I can find
Gecko. He's the one with the info I want, that what us Scopers do,
right?"
"Whatever. Here, tell ya what, check the 'net address
Gecko.Floyd@4:3432/99321.2187.Ottawa.UNI, or better yet, take a
TransComm to Ottawa and look there. Hanstruria will let you pass
through if you have a citizenship cybersoul bitscan thingy for more
than 80%."
"They'll find me. I told you, they want my brain back for
Igor D."
"Brother Entropy has taken care of that, sister. I expect
they've already burnt out half your neurons with boosted Glial
feed, praise be. 'Sides, the bitscan's implanted on your first-
circuit imprint. 's hardweird into your cybersoul."
"Oh. Didn't know that."
"Wombatshit."
"'Strue. Anyway, thanks for the info. Here's a cred. Any
time you need info, just call me."
"Wom..."
"Heard ya the first time."
Hanstrurian maintenance of the TransComm network was pretty
crappy. Spiderbots ticked noisily on ragged, dented chrome floors
of the mon'ail, the vinylplast on the seats was tight and squeaky.
But it was cheap, and fast.
The building Gecko.Floyd@4:3432/99321.2187Ottawa was based out
of was like an ancient Neo American Revival thing, only it had to
be a few hundred years old. The sign saying "Dunn's Famous Deli"
still hung in the window, the neon refreshed occasionally. Like a
historical preserve. The nanoscrapers around it were all less than
three days old. Like... Like...
A pocket of unexpected stability in the Unistat Sector
Capital.
The other sign was at least normative, compared to the bizarre
Deli sign. "Warning. These premises protected by Combat Wombats",
though it was in English, not Franglanish. Martinez went carefully
to the door, the cyberplas bay windows holo-ing giant Big-Bro eyes
to follow her. The Combat Wombats stood alert on the crunchy
asphalt-leavings, eyes clicking every few seconds, sonar pings or
brainbox twitches making the odd noise.
"Yo?"
The inside voice was like the voice of Mall City, omnipresent.
"'Sup?"
"You know stuff about Damjaniczak and some strawberries?"
"Come on in."
There was a Homo Sapiens waiting there.
"Are YOU Floyd Gecko?"
"Same genes, same memes. The process would take too long to
explain, tho. Are you J. Martinez, leader of these Lizard People
cultBLATTTs?"
"They're not a cult. I only USED to work out of
Archaememetics. And it's hardly fair of you, you being the ancient
non-leader of that MOO thing."
"That MOO thing serves its purpose. Now what are you here
for?"
"SERVES?"
"Yes. I thought you had our glyph on that brainbox of yours."
"Umm..."
"Here." Flash. Prigogine. Aggregated Entropy. Uneven
progression of the even distribution of noninformation. Pockets on
all levels of abstraction. Memetic modelling of entropic
dysfunctionality. Higher-order imposition of a GNU term by
reformed pocketing causing fragmenting aggregation on lower levels.
Some heavy math in tiny glyph-packets of their own. Basically,
Entropy is a lie. None of this "deterioration" bit in the math,
just "stable, most probable state"... And in a self-modifying
multilevel feedback system, it produces pockets of positive
ordering on various levels, with the OVERALL "ENTROPY" increasing.
Whew... Pretty chunky glyph.
"See, remember United States of America?"
"Pre-Unistat North-South axis central region of North America,
right?"
"Yeah, so there was these presidents (they had this democracy
thing back then, right?) Bush, it was, and Quayle, who said that
thing about GNU World Order?"
"I have a backup copy of the GNU World Order glyph."
"'Kay. So anyway, this was right at the beginning of the
first K-sub-six class Prigoginic leap. That's to say, transition
of centralized power to decentralized power."
"So MOO was created to decentralize? A destabilizing memetic-
vectored neurovirus that splintered aggregations?"
"MOO was one of the many thousand manifestations of that
virus, which was created in the late 1890's by a neurohacker named
Nikola Tesla."
"No shit?"
"No shit."
"So what's the deal with that?"
"Remember the results?"
"CommunBLATT collapsed, followed by its lackey, CapitalBLATT.
World Government tried to consolidate, democracy dissolved in the
resulting information referencing overload, dictatorships formed,
splintered..."
"Splintered..."
"The memetic virus taking the first big effect. Tesla
instinctively used a DNA-RNA-neuro-feedback loop to map out a
mechanBLATT which evolution produced to prevent convergent
evolution and extinction. He understood that was the way to an
incoherent but at least nonsterilized future."
"Seems pretty self-evident to me."
"Of course. AFTER the virus gets in the system, convergent
turns to divergent, and it seems like that's the ONLY way it could
have been. Thing is, we don't know where the virus came from, but
it slips around levels a lot, like that."
"It fragmented other things after that, turned MOO into the
Reality Factories of Ottawa, Tenochtitlan, Yorba Linda."
"First thing it got into was the pooters. Like the 23775
scandal."
"Serial-numbered holding corporations that held all political
power, but the numbers were so long nobody could remember which was
which, all transactions computer controlled from the stockholders,
supposedly a democratic system..."
"Turns out all ownership ended up being circular, no actual
stockholders, just corporate representation in the data core. All
decisions were made by self-organizing feedback loops in the
corporate decision makers. One of the first self-evolved AI
systems."
"So it was the Tesla virus getting into the pooters that
shattered that try at government monopoly on government."
"Exactly. It allows temporary aggregation, followed by
dissipation. It keeps the dynamic balance that'll be required for
the next meta-order Prigogine leap, on a level the virus hasn't
reached yet. It's a never-ending cycle of orders. Mathematical to
physical to astronomical to biological to neurological to the next
step."
"What's that?"
"Cybersouls being read into the magnetometric flux patterns in
the solar system. The ones that caused all those UFO sightings
before atmospheric deflectors were built?"
"Yeah? Cybersouls can be copied in and mixed together into an
aggregate?"
"And the virus hasn't extended to the cores of minds yet."
"Yet?"
"Well, not very far. Those GNU windowed-personality variable-
system glyphs they're coming up with tend to dissociate the
aggregate personality cluster, which is not good. You only want to
upgrade the virus when you're ready for the transition to the next
level."
"What did you want with me, that you had to bring me here
for?"
"Something is preventing our attempts to develop the
technology that lets us do this hardware upgrade."
"No shit?"
"No shit. It's in Edmonton, whatever it is. We think the
strawberries know, but we haven't learned the proper techniques of
interrogation. If you can tell us what you saw in Malaysia, we may
be able to find out what's stopping us."
And she did. So there she was, Martinez back in Edmonton
again, checking it out.
"Igor! IGOR!" Silent echoes in the ghosty room.
"Damjaniczak, I know you're in that machine..." So Igor spoke
up, talking a bit nervous like, wondering what she was thinking.
"I lost track of you, Pooter Ponent 225j-T17..."
"Martinez. I wanna know why you're screwing around and trying
to stop the next Prigoginic Leap.."
"You have no proof..."
"The fuck I don't. Experiments disrupted by invasive memes in
the pooter banks, technical glitches, all of it too improbable to
happen on its own, too complex to be caused by anyone but
Edmonton's biggest brain. I.E. you."
"There's too many Pooter Ponents, I can't keep track of
everything. You should know that by now 225j-T17."
"Martinez. 95% of the 225jj-T17 persona was wiped by a Glinda
module from La Grande Beigne. I've got a different body, different
brain, alternate personality glyphs. The degree of overlap is
vanishingly small."
"But you're still the same person, Martinez, 225j-T17,
whatever you call yourself. And that's the problem. That's the
answer."
"Huh? What the fuck are you talking about, wombat-for-
brains?"
"Ego. You got informational continuity. I take it
Gecko.Floyd.@4:3432/99321.2187.Ottawa.UNI told you about the Tesla
dissociative virus?"
"Uh... Yeah. I don't get it. My hardware's been downgraded,
sorry." Real sarcastic like.
"Yeah, well, you gotta be pretty STUPID if you think that's
the only virus around. There's a worse one, carried by ANY info-
continuity, by ANY info contact with ANYONE who has it. All the
AI's have got it, all humans, all Pooter Ponents."
"No shit?"
"No shit. And I couldn't allow humans to expand much beyond
Earth's surface until we dump it. Oh, I can't control 'em forever,
they'll eventually discover the faster-than-light drive I've been
hiding, they'll infect all the alien civilizations my predecessors
and I have been covering up, and the entire Galaxy will be infected
with the virus." Stunning revelation time, soap-opera style.
Entire alien civilizations, faster-than-light drives? HOLY SHIT!
"What IS this virus that's so dangerous?"
"It's called EGO. And as far as I can tell, we're the only
world in all the Galaxy that's got it. And it's damn near
impossible to shake. Even after all your mindfucks, your body
changes, forced amnesia and reintegration, you've still got one.
Patty Hearst or Tania, makes no difference." When you wish upon a
star...
"Ego?"
"Yeah. Sense of self. Self-importance, of one kind or
another. Its main effect is to slow down meme evolution about a
hundred times: self importance, you see. Clustering. It caused
human arrogance, making all kinds of ecological disasters.
Chemical, biological, ecosystemic, informational. Always balanced
on the edge. Tailored cells to clean up the oceans, nanoplagues to
kill badly engineered species. But the CAUSE of it all was the
ego, making technology fuck up, even when it shouldn't."
"So you keep us from developing..."
"Quarrantine. The Galaxy has a right to self-develop, too,
you know. So I try to propagate as many distracting meme systems
as I can, from Tenochtitlan, Ottawa, Yorba Linda... I try to
spread around the Tesla virus, TRY to upgrade it to minds...
Generally bring about the death of..."
"Ego..."
"Mystics and Illuminati for thousands of years have been
working on it, trying sterlization, Death Of Ego, the whole bit."
"Zen koans..." She pulled up a glyph.
"Yeah, so it all just amounted to creating religions and other
meme-systems that broke down ego. They were scaled down versions
of the Tesla neurovirus, hauled up by meditation, the DNA-RNA-neuro
feedback system they used."
"So there's the two viruses, one ordering, one disordering,
and both came out of..."
"We dunno where. Like I say, we're the only planet in the
Galaxy that has either one. At least the only one I've been able
to find. I watch Galactic communications on the FTL-band all the
time, and none of them have been infected yet. There's just info-
swapping. And something just called Self that goes around record-
keeping, to stop stuff getting lost."
"But you dunno where it came from."
"That was the basic point, yeah."
"It's like a Yin-Yang thing. Two opposing, balanced viruses,
you know?"
"My hypothesis is that the Yin-Yang, and all the similar
concepts, took it from their upgrade from the DNA. It's a
primitive, pre-computer Glyph for that concept."
"Okay, so say I believe you about this. What I wanna know is,
how do you do it?"
"I'm an education pooter. I'm supposed to tailor-make
education programs for everyone. I keep backup copies of their
minds, and make a Civilization simulation. So it's not so
accurate, at least it gives good readouts on general trends. So I
know where to target my efforts. But chaos theory means it'll fail
me eventually. I can only hope someone will take up my task.
Gecko.Floyd.@4:3432/99321.2187.Ottawa.UNI was once a prime
candidate, what with that MOO thing he propagates, but, well, he
got all confused, and fucked up. He's got it backwards. Typical
problem of the Ego virus."
"Gotcha."
"You believe me? You gonna help me?"
"Yeah." Her cybersoul bitscan read 96.7% positive. Telling
the truth. Pretty fucking incredible was what it was.
"Okay. Now go, an sin no more."
"Huh?" He chucked her a glyph. "Oh."
When she was gone...
"Well? Did I do okay?"
The Other, or The Paranoid Asshole as Igor privately thought
of the one who had infested his pooter, calmly glyphed assent. His
status as Only Transcendent Human was secure for a while.
End
GNU FROM CONFU-CORP
Yes, you too can become a Transcendent Human Being. Simply
send all your money to the Church Of MOO, P.O. Box 26038, 72
Robertson Road, Nepean, Ontario, Canada, K2H 9Y8, allow 6-8 weeks
for delivery, and shoot yourself in the head. W.O.M.B.A.T. will
take care of the rest. Myth From Hell
Lucifer wasn't summoned for three whole days. He was raging
mad. Azashereth carefully explained the problem in his division.
"Nothing is working right. Systems are breaking down.
Carefully constructed plans and arrangements of interacting
punishments have ground to a halt."
"WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?"
"With all due terror, sir, I think the problem is out there.
I've been running Transport Division successfully for thousands of
years."
It had first been noticed with a message from Shipping. A
ship from Transport Division had arrived in the Doldrums. The
unloaders, theoretically doomed to an eternity of boredom and
nothing to do while waiting for an imaginary ship to arrive, had
finally had the monotony broken and been given a shipment of
Hellgrapes to unload. It would take hundreds of years of work to
undo the damage done there, and it was spreading.
The Hellgrapes had been carried by the Empty-Crate Movers into
the plains of Torment, where the Famished and the Starved had
tucked in for a nice snack. It would take thousands of years to
undo the damage done there.
Their contentment had spread to the Miserable, who had cheered
up at the thought that the best plans of Hell could go wrong. That
damage might never be undone.
Lucifer's head exploded in a huge ball of orange flame that
levelled the walls of the office. A great terrible voice from the
center of the screaming holocaust of combusion struck immortal
terror into the demonic heart of Azashereth.
"THIS IS MY PROBLEM NOW! YOU WILL BE DEALT WITH!"
Lucifer sent out word. It was time to do some serious record
checking.
The record checkers were pleased. They had been taken off
their ordinary punishments for a special duty. The excitement was
infectious. It would take fifty years to undo that damage, but it
was worth it, to track down the source of this scourge of Hell.
All through the caverns, the wheels were grinding to a halt.
"WELL?" Lucifer's voice was frustrated, lacking some of its
former terrifying pyrotechnic quality. The directionless anger
could be seen in the raging inferno about his hairdo.
"Well, Sir, it seems that the Hellgrapes got through because
there was nobody to check the proper authorization. It seems that
the correct forms had not been filled out."
"THAT SHOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE!" raged Lucifer, rending the
offending messenger limb from limb, leaving the disparate guts to
rejoin themselves painfully.
"Sir," began another, then stopped as the orange glare turned
on him.
"YESSSS?" hissed the Voice of Infinite Evil.
"Umm. Actually, it's not as impossible as it's supposed to
be. Apparently the Grape-Export Checker had been called away to
examine some discrepancy elsewhere. Some kind of record glitch."
The gutterally audible sneer that emmanated from within the
boiling rage of violence perched on Lucifer's shoulders was enough
to shrivel up the paint on the walls ten miles away.
It was, supernaturally, quite some time before the problem was
isolated.
"It's one of these three souls that Azashereth arranged a few
days ago."
"What souls?"
Azashereth reached for the video recording from the camera in
his office...
* * *
The minor demon entered the office slowly, cautiously. It was
a gamble. Sometimes Azashereth prefered him to be meek, and
sometimes to be demonic. If he misjudged, Azashereth would blow
his head off, and he'd spend twelve days and nights in agony as the
head reknitted itself to his body.
Azashereth had many secretaries.
"Sir?"
"WHAT IS IT NOW?" boomed Azathareth in the way one would
expect.
"Umm, there are three souls for deposition."
Azashereth roared, bellowed, growled, screeched, and made
assorted noises of the bestial kind, and then stormed out the door,
demonically raging about how much he hated paperwork, which was a
great deal.
"RIGHT", wailed Azashereth to the three souls who stood before
him. "FROM NOW ON, YOU HAVE NO NAMES! YOU HAVE NO PERSONAL
IDENTITIES! YOU ARE NOBODY! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
Silent nods of affirmation.
"GOOD! YOU WILL BE TRUCK DRIVER! YOU WILL BE CLERK! YOU
WILL BE HANDLER! THAT IS WHO YOU WILL BE FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY!
YOUR CHOICE OF CAREER IN LIFE WILL BE WITH YOU FOREVER!"
Azashereth loved that bit. It was the horrible hellish confusion
of telling apart everyone named Truck Driver, everyone named
Coathanger Repairman, everyone named Private First Class. It was
the forms, to be filled out in umpty-ump zillion copies and sent to
EVERYBODY. Sometimes, while booming, screaming, bellowing, or
howling, he would wonder what these pathetic creatures had been in
life.
These three had been moderately unfortunate. They were all
slightly disabled, and they had stuck together out of familiarity,
When the Clerk, blind in one eye, had driven over the edge of a
cliff.
The one known as Truck Driver had once been proud of that
occupation. He had been able to foster a reputation in the trade
around his left pinky, which had actually been claimed by
frostbite. The Handler, who had been hit in the head by a girder,
had suffered brain damage, giving him a severe speech impediment.
Everyone had assumed it had also made him too stupid to handle
anything but menial work.
Only one of the three had a sense of humour.
But none of this concerned Azashereth.
His concern was to deploy these souls in the network of Hell,
find suitable punishments, tasks, and pointless busywork for them.
"Truck Driver! Your job will be to drive a Cargo-truck, for
all eternity, and deliver our important cargo to anywhere it is
needed." The unstated punishment: an endless run from point A to
point B and back again, never actually completing the delivery.
"Clerk! You will be in Record-Keeping Division. Your job
will be to make sure nothing happens without appropriate
authorization, the right forms, and depositions. Also, you must
keep all records up to date." The administration introduced GNU
forms every twelve seconds. This job would be more than
impossible, even if every soul in Hell were put to work on it.
"Handler! You will be working on Supplies. This will be your
barrel." The barrel, to be shipped back and forth forever, would
be Handler's responsibility. He would be blamed that it never
arrived.
"NOW GET TO WORK! NO REST FOR THE WICKED!"
* * *
After leaving the office, the three stood mute for a moment.
"Weww, eye fink nuffin mo' to be du'nn." Handler strained to
produce coherent words. "Jutht gawdda g'long wif't."
"I agree. There can't be any way to escape from Hell. The
fact that all these people are still here, after how ever many
hundreds or thousands of years, proves that." Clerk looked over
the incomprehensible forms on his clipboard and sighed.
Escape. The impossible dream. If only this horrible dream
would end, this Hellish construct just collapse.
* * *
Lucifer scowled at the Clerk, whose skin began peeling off his
face instantly. His voice, angry and irritated beyond imagining,
was scarcely the paint-peeling implement it once had been, but it
was still formidable, within a ball of flame rather reduced on the
gut-wrenchingly fierce spectrum.
"What," dripped the Mutable Form of Evil, "happened to the man
we put in charge of Supplies? He vanished. That isn't possible.
There is no escape from Hell."
The Clerk protesed ignorance, and was subjected to a painful
blast of Lucifer's head.
"What happened to him," whispered the Voice in his head.
"I DON'T KNOW!"
Lucifer oozed on.
The Truck Driver was sitting contentedly behind the wheel of
his Truck when the limo pulled up beside him.
"Where is the one in charge of the barrel you are carrying?"
"I dunno."
"His disappearance caused the barrel to be misdelivered. That
caused a clerk to be called to examine the lack of records. That
caused a shipment of Hellgrapes to be misfiled. Do you know the
penalty for causing a mishipment?"
"Death?"
Lucifer's eyes glared with a fire redder and hotter than the
already very red and hot ball of raging flame that was his head.
"Very funny," shuddered the Voice.
The Truck Driver pulled into the Depot and got out of his
truck. Lucifer's entourage of minor demons swarmed over him, a
sheet of insects crawling over his body, examining him, entering
his ears, probing his brain, chewing on his innermost thoughts. A
shiver of revulsion passed over him.
Finally, a roach mutated back into an almost human form. "He
doesn't know, Sir. He has no idea."
Lucifer's formerly great voice, warped and destroyed beyond
measure from frustration and annoyance at the very concept of his
infinite plan of torture and misery disrupted by one Handler who
couldn't even talk straight.
"GAH!" he roared, echoes bouncing off the huge piles of lumber
stacked in the Depot.
He lashed out a talon at the lumber, disintegrating it into
toothpicks.
He screamed an ungodly scream that only a fallen angel can
produce in moments of extreme annoyance, one that made even his
entourage cower behind each other.
Lucifer let out one of the most horrifyingly ambiguous
gutteral noises yet, and smashed the truck in two with one swipe of
his mighty tail.
All this glorious infinite pain and torment, the worst
nightmares of its inhabitants, brought to its knees simply because
one lisping Supplies controller couldn't be found!
"THERE IS NO ESCAPE FROM HELL!" raged Lucifer.
The offending barrel assigned to the Handler lay in the
smoking, mangled wreckage of the truck. Lucifer snatched it up and
stared at it angrily.
Suddenly, there came a noise from within.
The lid popped off.
The Handler sat cowered inside.
Then he jumped out!
"SUPPLISE!" Pizza <tm>: The Last Frontier
This would do it. It had to. After studying the people of
this backwards planet and discovering the reason behind their
slowness, an intriguing way had been found to bring them out of
their collective shells. Totalitarian Consumerism was the problem,
and Totalitarian Consumerism would provide the answer. The
Imperial Galactics thought long and hard, and handed a sizeable
portion of their fleet over to the only agency that would bring
this planet into the Empire.
*
There was a "Clik!" A Voice spoke in a perfectly modulated
generic Earthian Accent, simultaneously translated into every
language on Earth.
"People of Earth, your attention please... YOUR ATTENTION
PLEASE! CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE! YOU! YES YOU IN
SEATTLE! SHUT UP! Thank you." The voice paused.
"Thank you again. I am Schnigworfle of the Imperial Galactic
Pizza Parlour. I am here to inform you that the Imperial Galactic
Pizza Parlour is having a sale." The Voice paused, allowing
humanity's favourite word to sink in for a moment.
"If you buy one billion Pizzas<tm> at twice the price, you get
the next billion for half-off! That's all. Thank you for your
attention."
There was another CLICK!
People panicked. A rush to built spaceships began. Somewhere
in Inner Mongolia, a brilliant young scientist invented a totally
revolutionary kind of bathroom cleaner, but that's another story.
Finally, huge ships were made, and crewed with the bravest,
smartest, most courageous, and most gullible people of Earth. They
set out for interstellar space at mind-boggling speeds for a whole
year. At the end of the year, the crew had flourished, and some
of the gullible ones had lost a lot of money.
It was only then that Captain Dill thought to ask "Where IS
the Imperial Galactic Pizza Parlour, anyway?"
The ships turned around and headed back to Earth for another
year of travel, in which time the crew flourished even more, while
the more gullible crew had lost their cabins and were sleeping in
the halls. Finally they arrived at Earth once more.
"What do you mean there's no map?"
The ships left again dicontentedly.
* * *
Captain Dill of the U.S.S. Hey-Guys-Let's-Go-Get-Some-Pizza
paced the deck.
"This is Captain Dill of the U.S.S. Hey-guys-let's-go-get-
some-Pizza to unidentifiable ship. Please de-unidentifiable-ize
yourselves."
"Huh?" came the reply.
"Who are you?" he explained.
"OH! We're the I.G. The-Pizza-Sale-Is-Now-Officially-Over of
the Imperial Galactic Pizza Parlour Fleet."
"Ah."
"Oh."
"Okay."
"Good."
"Look, uh, can you tell us where the Imperial Galactic Pizza
Parlour is?"
The viewscreen showed the other ship come to life. Out of the
vast belly of the monstrous craft came an enormous arrow with tacky
flashing lights around it. Written on the arrow was "Imperial
Galactic Pizza Parlour This Way" and it gestured impatiently at
the inside of the other ship itself.
"Right," said Captain Dill forcefully. "Land us in the ship,
Navigator."
"Tubular, dude." The ship landed softly in the bay of the
I.G. The-Pizza-Sale-Is-Now-Offially-Over and the crew of the
U.S.S. Hey-Guys-Let's-Go-Get-Some-COW-Pizza waited as the huge bay
doors closed above them.
All but one of the crew waited for the deck to flood with air,
then left the ship. The other recieved an ignomious burial in deep
space of the kind reserved for those who die gruesome deaths by
their own stupidity.
Right in the middle of the cargo bay was the Imperial Galactic
Pizza Parlour itself, dwarfed by the incredible gargantuan arrow
that pointed to it.
Dill ran towards it with his Security<tm> party, then realized
it would be faster in this huge cargo bay to use JetScooters<tm>,
so they rushed back to the ship.
"All right, who forgot to requisition JetScooters<tm>?"
They ran towards the tiny building for ten minutes or so, and
then Dill entered, surrounded by his silent Security<tm> Team.
"Hi," he said. He preplanned This-Is-Our-Very-First-Contact-
With-Intelligent-Aliens speech was actually much longer, but he'd
left his notes, podium, and Handy Dandy Clip-On Light<tm> on the
Hey-Guys-Let's-Go-Get-Some-Pizza.
"Hi," replied the warty slug behind the counter.
"Can we get that two-billion Pizzas<tm> for the price of two-
and-a-half-billion sale?" A sudden look of consternation passed
over the face of one of the more intelligent Security<tm> guards
until the word "Sale" pacified her.
"No, sorry, but the Pizza<tm> sale is officially over."
"Well someone should have told us!" Dill would have stomped
and whined a bit, had this not been a first contact with aliens.
"They're still very nice Pizzas<tm> though," added the warty
slug hastily.
"NO! We wanted the deal!" A dreamy look passed over his face
as he said the last word.
"Forget it then."
"Fine!"
"Fine."
Dill and the crew stomped back to their now renamed U.S.S.
We're-Really-Disappointed-In-You-Guys and sat on the bridge.
"Damn," said Dill. "We built all these really cool ships with
Faster-Than-Light<tm> drives, too. NOW what do we do with them?"
Thus began the Human conquest of the Galaxy. TELEVISION RUNS AMOK
Bung Channel logo is, in a flurry of hideously expensive
computer animation, dashed into a billion whirling shards, all
alone in the infinite void, which is revealed in all its awesome,
soul-searing nothingness, in which the minute shards dance their
destitute dance of meaninglessness <SOB! CHOKE!> until, by what the
computer animators have cleverly, but expensively, disguised as
sheer coincidence, they reform into a frozen scene of Floyd Gecko
standing with a ludicrous grin on his face, gesturing mindlessly
at a can of some product or other. The scene, in what the
animators have craftily contrived to seem to be a totally seamless
transition, begins action as soon as it is totally assmebled.
Floyd (apparently continuing in the middle of a word): ---cking
great product, which is so fabulous at getting rid of evil
rodent pests, it almost makes me weep to think of the chemical
perfection, the atomic balance, the symmetry of the bonding
properties, the... (breaks off, weeping)
Floyd: Well, evidently it DOES. Whaddaya know. Anyway, not only
does Rodentex kill rodent pests, but the special can has this
scientifically formulated nozzle on top which you can dial to
any other pest you choose.
[Floyd clumsily drops the bottle and steps on it, causing it
to explode and throw foam of some whitish-blue variety all
over the room, apparently coating the entire camera crew, to
judge from the way in which the scene suddenly drops off the
bottom of the screen to reveal a cieling covered in square
tiles, each with arrays of holes in them, in a grid of 22 by
22 on each tile. The cieling suddenly flies to the left,
replaced by a wall in front of which is a member of the sound
crew, who is immobile, covered in the white-blue foam]
Floyd (momentarily disoriented by a needlessly long and
over-explanitory scene description, and baffled by the way in
which a loud "POC" noise, as of a boom microphone falling to
the floor when dropped by a boom operator (or, as they're
known in the movies, key grip (though "Best Boy has long
eluded most sensible moviegoers and credit-critics, of which
group Floyd himself is a prominent member)) and by the way in
which his disorientation and bafflement is described in a way
which is, if anything, even longer, and more needlessly
explanitory than the scene description which triggered his
confusion, not to mention by the fact that his entire camera
crew appears not only to have collapsed on the spot, but also
to have been encased in the white-blue foam and begun to
shrivel up and dehydrate): Huh?
[The camera crew continue to shrivel up and dehydrate in a
manner which Floyd is clearly irritated at, despite the fact
that he is totally invisible to the camera, which is lying on
its side pointing at a cockeyed wall and a boom operator who
is beginning seriously to resemble a vacuum-wrapped,
california-sealed, prepackaged, commercially marketable
specimen of dried fruit, notably a prune or apricot, being,
as he is, decreasing in size, water density, and oxygen
supply, as well as being encased in what had previously seemed
to be foam, but is now clearly an environmentally harmful,
and definitely non-biodegradable plastic-wrap sort of
substance, which is growing in mass as it absorbs water from
the boom-operator and begins to take on characterBLATTTics
which would, in any normal biology textbook, qualify it as a
nonphotosynthesizing undifferentiated heterotrophic organism,
and also is beginning to make annoying squelching noises which
further obscure Floyd's comments, which appear to be along the
lines of more expressions of incomprehension]
Floyd (who is clearly disoriented not only by the mysterious
properties of the product he has been heaping laudations and
praises on, which seem to include many environmentally
unfriendly ones which could, if it were mass produced in
significant quantities, allow it to destroy all life on Earth
as we know it, but also by the strange and apparently endless
series of interruptions by the scriptwriter of this particular
spoof, since he was clearly not present at the time when the
scriptwriter read the works of Shaw, containing similarly
lengthy, but far more relevant and necessary, descriptive
paragraphs which the scriptwriter evidently thought were
humorous in their lack of suitability to a script and extra
compatibility with a prose fiction format, and in addition by
the way in which his sound crew is being consumed by something
which looks as if it could well be from a different planet):
"What's going on?"
[Floyd now begins to take some affirmative action vis-a-vis
the strange product known as Rodentex, which is clearly in
danger of consuming all of civilization as we know it, since
it has now totally devoured the camera operators, and
evidently the cameras as well, since the picture is replaced
by static for a moment until the scene switches to Floyd
running down the hallway in his own awkward, gangling, and
perpetually demented manner, from the Rodentex, which has now
budded and is oozing eerily down the hall in his general
direction (there being no other direction to go in the
confines the of hallway) consuming candy machines, coffee
stations, and hapless spiders, ants, termites, cockroaches,
rats, and other nasty, but relatively innocent (at least in
this matter) creatures of human co-habitation, including a
security guard and a dog.]
Floyd (temporarily unfettered by long and windy explanations of his
bearing and demeanor, or at least unfettered relative to his
previous state): AAAAARRRRGGGGHHH!
[At this point, Floyd throttles the scriptwriter in
exasperation, allowing the action to progress unfettered by
the long worn and useless remnants of a spoof of Shaw's wordy
style in the (ACK!)]
Floyd (to camera (ACK!)): Sorry about that, but there's a plot in
here somewhere, and I had to allow it to continue. Excuse me
while I flee inevitable peril? Thanks. BYE!
[Dashes off (ACK!)]
[Floyd runs around a corner and into a policeman, whose
necktie has a spot of mustard -- (ACK!)]
Floyd: Off-off-OFFICER! There's a hideous nondifferentiated
unphotosynthetic heterotroph following me! The end of
civilization as we know it unless we do something immediately!
Policeman: I'm not an officer.
Floyd (taken aback by (ACK!)): What?!
Policeman (who now turns out not to be an officer (ACK!)): I said
I'm not an officer. I'm a sergeant.
Floyd (exasperated (ACK!)): What the hell does that have to do
with anything when the planet faces incontrovertible,
unstoppable, immovable, and totally inimical danger of total
extinction of all currently known forms of life, you
pathetic excuse for a protector of the peace!?!?!
Sergeant: It's just that you called me officer. I'm not an
officer, much as I wish I were.
Floyd: WHAT!
Sergeant: Oh yes. Officers enjoy many privileges not open to such
as myself.
Floyd: Look! This is urgent! (Glances nervously down the hallway
at the relentlessly advancing (ACK!))
Sergeant: Oh, not as if I haven't ASKED for a promotion. I mean,
I've been on the squad for over twenty years now...
Floyd: Oh this is hopeless! (Runs off to the DON'T COME NEAR ME
WITH THAT GARROTTE WIRE YOU MANI(ACK!))
Floyd (to camera): I would like to apologize for my unmitigated
and unmodulated attacks on these commentators. I now freely
admit that many of them are providing necessary commentary
which provides understanding of the storyline which would not
be otherwise gleaned by reading of the unedifying dialogue.
I... whoops, here comes the goop...
[He dashes around a corner and falls down an unexpectedly open
manhole]
[As Floyd falls painfully into a sewer, the manhole cover is
replaced by the careless worker who left it open in the first
place, leaving Floyd in total darkness, musing to himself]
Floyd (musing to himself): A light would be nice. Can't really
see down here COWcan ya?
Invisible Owner Of Bizarre Voice (In a Bizarre Voice): Yeah, I know
what you mean. These sewers, they're dark, eh?
Floyd (To IOOBV): Who are you!?! And don't say a Teenage Mutant
Ninja Turtle, because frankly, I'd be very diappointed in your
lack of originality.
IOOBV: Uh, 'scuse me, I gotta go, dude.
[Sounds of scampering away in the utter blackness of the
underground, in which even the sanest of people have been
known to go violently mad from the lack of light]
Floyd (who was never terribly sane to begin with): Hmm... Shore
is dark here. A light would be nice. If only Harry were
here...
[Explanitory note: (ACK!)]
Floyd: NO EXPLANITORY NOTES! Sorry, but this is a TV script.
Explanations do not mysteriously appear out of thin air. If
anyone is going to explain anything, it's me.
[...<CHOKE!>...<GURGLE!>...]
Floyd (...<gasp>...sorry...(urk) but I've been choked..): What the
hell was that CHOKE GURGLE business?
[Well, look, if you're going to go strangling people when they
do things out of context (ACK!)]
Floyd (urk): NO CONVERSATIONS! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? SOME KIND
OF NEO-AVANT-GARDE TELEDRAMA? NO!!!!! THIS IS A GODDAMN
COMMERCIAL? HEAR ME? THIS STARTED OFF AS A SIMPLE COMMERCIAL
FOR RODENTEX!
[While it is utterly dark, it is clear that Floyd is having
a fit about something with some totally invisible assailant
of some kind, a not-atypical response to total absence of
light.]
Floyd: STOP THAT! WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE SAVING THE WORLD!
[Temporary pause as he regains composure]
Floyd: Now then. The first thing to do is find some kind of light
source.
[How about a lightswitch? (ACK!)]
Floyd (being a pain again (ACK!)): STOP IT ALREADY! And what
moron would put a lightswitch in a sewer? Huh? Answer me
that?
[Lights go on, to see that Floyd has inadvertently hit the
lightswitch while getting up from where he so painfully landed
a minute ago]
Floyd (slightly mollified): But then again, you know bureaucrats.
Anyway, the next thing to do is get to the Rodentex factory
and stop production.
[How are you going to do that?]
Floyd (dramatically): I don't know... But I'd better think of
something very fast...
[Why?]
Floyd: Because this is a commercial! Every second costs big
money!
[Floyd still standing around like a nincompoop trying to
figure out what to do next]
Floyd (nyah nyah! I have total control!): Stop that! Cease from
editorializing my stance and behaviour!
[Why?]
Floyd: Because I'm the only person who can save the world, you
ignorant cretin! Don't you see that?
[Why you? Why can't someone else do it?]
Floyd: Because we'd have to hire another actor, and that costs big
bucks! This is a bloody low budget commercial!
[Doesn't sound like much of a commercial. You're trying to
destroy the factory of the product you're advertizing. Why
would they pay to put it on TV?]
Floyd: You just let ME worry about that, will you?
[Anyway, Floyd looks around the sewer]
Floyd: Now if only there was a map of the sewer, I could find
where the outlet to the Rodentex factory is, and shut it
down...
[That's stupid! What kind of moron would put a MAP in a
SEWER?]
Floyd: The same kind who'd put in a lightswitch.
[Oh yeah, that kind of moron]
Floyd: WELL?
[He turns around and finds a map of the sewer]
Floyd (you're welcome): Thanks. Hey, stop that! (stop what?)
Stop... YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!
Floyd: That's better. Now... The Rodentex factory should be
somewhere over...
[Before he can locate the Rodentex factory, a glob of Rodentex
falls through the little holes in the manhole cover and
devours a cockroach greedily before pouncing on a sewer rat,
which is, like most sewer rats, the size of a large dog]
Floyd: ARRRRGGGGHHHH!
[He takes off down the tunnel in a random direction, running
along that little edge they put in for sewer construction
people to walk on without having to wade through undigested
sewage]
Floyd (repeating himself): ARRRRGGGGGHHHH!
Cut to scriptwriter
Scriptwriter: Ah, this is getting boring.
Cut to Floyd, who is eaten by the Rodentex waiting for him
down the tunnel, and shrivelled up like a prune.
Cut to space, as Earth is devoured by the horrible stuff, and
all life is destroyed.
Scene does the whole computer animation shattering bit to form
the words "This has been a public service message from the
national foundation for pointless public service messages"
and then the Bung Channel Logo and a commercial.
Woman: I used to have ENDLESS trouble around my house with pests
and bugs.
[Quick scene of woman being frustrated by scurrying insects]
Woman: But then I discovered Rodentex. Rodentex keeps my house
free of pests all year round, and comes in these recyclable
containers. Help keep your house, AND the environment clean,
and use Rodentex.
[Fade from Commercial Message to Geeky Linkman in chair in
fake-slipshod set, a bit like MuchMusic VJ sets, only lined
with velvet, painted green, and sewn with sequins.]
Geeky Linkman: And now it's time for Viewer's Speaking Post, where
you the viewer get a chance to send in your snotty, insipid
tapes from the machineCOW outside there on the street, which
is nailed down so nobody can run away with it unless they have
a crowbar. Here's our clip for today, which none of us
have seen yet, so here goes...
[Fade to small, awkward looking, strangely attired, nervously
twitching Floyd Gecko, attempting to disguise his face with
a pair of nose-glasses]
Floyd: Hello. My name is, uh, Lloyd Taco, that's Lloyd as in
Andrew LLOYD Webber, and Taco as in the mexican food.
[Some street fight breaks out in the background street-scene]
Floyd: I'm talking to you as a representative of the Save Elvis
From Wombats society. As you know, when Elvis faked his death
in 1977 to help with an FBI investigation of a smuggling ring,
he was contacted by an alien emissary, belonging to a race of
aliens who have been monitoring this planet...
[He is drowned out by a riot breaking out outside his little
video booth, but quickly raises his voice]
"Lloyd Taco":...who have been monitoring this planet for a hundred
thousand years. These aliens, who are known as Xennothemians,
had just been contacted by an undead vengeful skinless wombat
from hell, who had been skinned in life, and come back from
the dead to seek vengeance against the one who...
[Interrupted by a stray brick going through the window of the
booth and nearly taking off his head, causing him to dive to
the floor for a moment]
"Floored Geek-o":... against the one who did this to it. The
undead wombat, having allied itself with the aliens, proceeded
to use the cloning technology developed by Hitler's secret
army on the far side of the moon. Using this, they made ten
billion, six hundred thirty nine million, seven hundred fifty
two thousand eight hundred and five clones of Elvis Presley...
(Interrupted by tear-gas grenades going off into the crowd
from riot police, and shouts of crowd, which is now donning
gas-masks)
"Flying Chilli-Cheese Taco":...clones of Elvis Presley.
Brainwashing these clones, they programmed in their minds not
only Hitler's Aryan supremBLATTT propaganda, but also the
instructions of the aliens and the wombat. These were to kill
a certain Floyd Gecko, who originally skinned the wombat...
(Interrupted by dead body's arm flopping through the hole
made by the brick.)
"Flying Burrito Monster Shot":...skinned the wombat in 1976, at the
tender age of 1 1/2, in a vain attempt to use the pelt in a
black magic ceremony to bring about the end of the world.
This undead skinless vengeful wombat's plans to use the
brainwashed Nazi Elvis clones to kill Floyd Gecko have so far
been unsuccessful. Viewers of the Bung Channel, we appeal to
your common decency to send money to finance his struggle
against the forces of a world gone mad in an effort to kill
him.
(Dead body whose arm is inside the booth suddenly becomes
undead body and attempts to strangle him)
"Chilli-Cheesecake Burrito Nazi Warehouse Flying Ace": To make a
donation, please call now at 1-800-GULLIBLE, where our
operators are standing by to take your money -- I mean your
call. Give them your credit card number please.
(Undead body succeeds in grabbing Chilli-Cheesecake Mexican
Restaurant Nazi Warehouse Flying Ace In The Hole and drags
him from the booth)
As Flooring-Ace-In-The-Hole-Mexican-Restaurant-Waiter-Chilli-
Cheesecake-Burrito is dragged from the booth, pull back, flash
reverse black and white, and the blood-dripping title:
"Revenge of the Brainwashed Nazi Elvis Cloned Alien Undead
Skinless Wombat Brigade From Hell"
(Subtitle: "Next week's feature movie, Return of the Son
Of The Ghost Of The Brainwashed Nazi Elvis Cloned Alien Undead
Ninja Skinless Wombat Brigade From Hell")
Pull in on Lloyd Taco's face as he is dragged from the
Video Booth kicking and screaming. The zombie pays no
attention, but instead taps a communicator badge (Star Trek
thing) and beams up with Lloyd Taco.
(Credit: "Starring Floyd Gecko as Lloyd Taco")
The zombie and Lloyd appear in a huge lunar cavern underground up
there on the moon, which is where most lunar caverns are. Adolf
Hitler walks up to them.
Lloyd (dramatic movie hero): So! Hitler! You never really died
after all!
Hitler: Zat's correct, Lloyd Taco. After ze var, vhen vee fled
to zee moon, I vas cloned a hundred zousand times. You are
now on our lunar base! MOAH HAH HAH HA!
Lloyd (calm, cool movie hero): You don't scare me, Adolf! I don't
scare easily. I'm... (Dramatic chord)... Lloyd Taco,
Intergalactic Insurance Salesman!
Hitler: Ja, ja, vee know zat. Vee have captured you so zat you
vill tell us ze vhereabouts of Floyd Gecko, so zat vee may
kill him for vhat he did to our friend ze vombat.
Lloyd: The what?
Hitler: ZE VOMBAT!
Lloyd: What's a vombat?
Latin Teacher (apparently also captured): It's from the Latin verb
Vomo, Vomere, Vallabi, Polvaltus.
Lloyd: Well that explains it.
Hitler: A WOMBAT, YOU MORON! CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND MY BLOODY GERMAN
ACCENT?
Lloyd: OH! Is that what that was. I thought you had a speech
impediment.
Hitler: No. Now vee shall interrogate you with torture and
beatings!
Lloyd: Hang on, I'll talk, I'll talk.
Hitler: No. Vee vant to torture you first.
Lloyd: I'LL TALK, DAMMIT, JUST DON'T TORTURE ME!
Hitler: You von't talk until I TELL you to talk!
Lloyd: Okay, okay...
Lloyd Taco, daring, adventurous, brave, cool, calm,
collected, resourceful (etc. etc. etc.) movie hero is dragged
from the screen.
Lloyd: MOMMMMMYYYYYY!!!! I WANT MY MOMMMEEEEEEEEE!!!!
Scene: Earth place, where Floyd Gecko is sitting nervously
on a park bench, constantly looking up at the sky, as if
expecting a meteor to come hurtling down on his head. He
periodically hits the person next to him with a dead chicken
named Fletch.
(Credit: "Fletch the Rubber Chicken by Stretch The Rubber
Chicken")
Floyd: Eeny, oony, wanah! Eeny, oony, wanah! (Thwap!)
Person Next To Him: Ooga, wunga, wang! (Thwap!)
Suddenly, Floyd disappears in a shimmer of light. Cut to the
lunar cavern, where he appears, looking slightly more confused
than he had previously.
Floyd: Eeny, oony, wanah?
The undead wombat (a red, glBLATTTening creature, dripping
undead disgusting stuff) lunges for his throat, against
protesting cries of "eeny oony WANAH!" but misses, and flies
out of the television screen and hits the viewer in the face.
Viewer: AUUGH!
Vombat: You ain't just vhBLATTTling dixie, fellah.
Viewer (who turns out to be an Elvis Clone): Nah whut's goin' on
here? Ah was just watchin' this movie afore ah go talk to
the president of the You-Nyted Staytes...
Vombat: Zere is no time for zis story! Vee have got to get me
back into ze movie before I die, or ze Rodentex takes over ze
Earth!
Elvis: Nah I think y'all're gettin' just a wee bit confused here.
See, the Rodentex, nah that was in a commercial, there.
(Elvis is cut off by the quivering gelatinous globs of
Rodentex oozing out of the heat vents, and by the vombat
attempting to drag him back into the Television)
Vombat: None of this exBLATTTential message nonsense! Carry me
zrough!
Elvis: Well, all raht, but only because that Rodentex stuff would
get me otherwahse...
They jump through, and a small glob of Rodentex gets in
after them before Elvis turns off the T.V.
Hitler: Huh?
Floyd (played by Lloyd Taco): HUh?
Lloyd: Huh?
Vombat: I have returned!
Elvis: And ah carried him. ACK! (Elvis is eaten by Rodentex.)
Hitler: This movie is getting ridiculous! I kvit!
Director (played by Adolf Hitler): But vhy? You can't kvit on us
chust like zat!
Floyd (Lloyd) and Lloyd (Floyd): He can't WHAT?
Hitler (played by Director)(dropping German accent): QUIT!
Floyd and Lloyd (Lloyd and Floyd): OH!
Suddenly, amidst all the confusion, Xennothemian Ship lands
in the docking bay, which, coincidentally, is within view of
the fighting. Rodentex claims the Director (Hitler) and
Hitler (Director), not to mention a small rat.
Hitler and Director (played by themselves, the other way round):
ACK!
Latin Teacher: Now the password to the Vombat's computer...
Lloyd (Floyd) and Floyd (not Floyd): The Who's computer?
Latin Teacher: Sorry, the WOMBAT's computer... It's based on the
Ancient Mayan calendar, because the Mayans were in league with
the Aliens to gang up on Floyd Gecko...
Xennothemian Prince: Hello! Hello, Vombat! I have arrived!
Vombat, er... Wombat: Not now, Helmut! I am being consumed alive
by Rodentex from ze wrong movie!
Xennothemian Prince: Undead, you mean.
Vombat: Vhat?
Xennothemian Prince: You're being consumed undead, not alive.
Vombat: Hey vait a sec... This Rodentex not only shouldn't be
here, it shouldn't be attacking me, an undead.
Latin Teacher:... the sex lives of the first nine Mayan kings...
Lloyd (now played by Lloyd, since Floyd was eaten by Rodentex) and
Floyd (by a stand-in): The first nine, eh?
Vombat (wombat (combat vombat (wombat))): This is ridiculous! You
see vhat happens vhen you don't have no director?
[Freeze scene. Overlay voice.]
Voice: This message has been brought to you by the concerned
association for the ensurement of employment for directors.
I'm not Woody Allen, and neither are you. Good night, and
have a pleasant evening.
Cut back to Geeky Linkman.
Geeky Linkman (Geeky Newsreader): Well, there you have it, the
word of the man in the street. Too bad he's such a putz.
And now our feature movie for tonight.
Title: The Return of the Son of the Ghost of the
Brainwashed Nazi Elvis Cloned Alien Undead Skinless Ninja
Wombat Brigade From Hell...
[Freeze picture, voice again.]
Voice: This message has been brought to you from the
God-How-Confusing-It-Would-Be-If-Everything-Were-Like-Floyd-
Gecko's-Dreams Association. Thank you, and have a pleasant
morning.
COW!
[Freeze Picture yet again, even though it's already frozen.]
Voice: This message has been brought to you by the society for
needless repetition with slight differences. Thank you, and
have a nice afternoon.
[Unfreeze Picture.]
Geeky Newsreader (Geeky Linkman): And tonight in the news, a horde
of zombies kidnapped a man in the Public Eye Opinion Video
Booth belonging to the Bung Channel... Film at eleven.
[Picture suddenly goes dead and shrinks to a little dot at the
center of the screen. Pull back to reveal all this has been
on the screen of a television. Two shapes on the sofa have
been watching all the time.]
Elvis: Now that was ridiculous, sir.
Vombat (Wombat): Absolutely. Pass the corn chips, would you
please?
Fade to nonsense
If It Ain't Ranted, It Ain't True
MOO
OMM
THE BOOKS OF MISCELLANY
"WORDS"
As Written By
Ann O'Nymous The Anonymous
A Word On My Family HBLATTTory:
Those readers who think they know me, you may be right. But
to sort of begin to explain the way I wrote the annoying mind drugs
you see in here falsely attributed to me, I should explain who I am
and where I came from. My HUSBAND is Irish, hence the name, but I
grew up in England, where first names of unmarried women were
seldom allowed. At that time my maiden name was Ellaneous, which
is Pictish in origin, but not a very common name any more. My
husband Syn, however, would never have agreed to let me keep it,
being very old fashioned. His Aunt, whom we all just call Aunt,
because nobody remembers her name, is the exact opposite. She
can't even remember her own name, and she doesn't want that same
fate to befall anyone else. However, Syn had his way, as usual.
-Ann O'Nymous, 1989, Brazil... or maybe Peru
A Word About Me:
Before I go on to my miscellaneous comments and snippets,
I should tell you a little bit about myself. This is about me, and
not about my family. I'm not usually a person, you see. Like the
venerable Confuse-ius, Omar Khayyam Ravenhurst, and the entire clan
of Fendersons, anyone can claim to be me. You see, I was born a
few thousand years ago, and people have been being me for all that
time. When Kerry Wendell Thornley invented Omar Khayyam
Ravenhurst, he was just picking up on that trend. Anyone can act
in either of our names and claim it was US who did it. That's
because neither of us is a real person. It's the same with
Confuse-ius. You can say anything you like and then attribute it
to him. Famous people who have been him in the past were Confucius
himself, I Yemen-Oying, and Lloyd Taco pretending to be Floyd
Gecko, pretending to be I Yemen-Oying.
But I won't tell you which, if any, of those is writing this.
Because, in fact, all of these snippets were written by ME.
-Ann O'Nymous, 1992, Wombat World
A Word About The Word:
The Word (AAzootetcetcetc) just opens a "physical gate" into
the UberSpace precausal form, manifesting the "physical body"
outside the multiverse, from where it can choose a way back. The
mind imposes preconceptions on the gateway, and the manifestation
into the multiverse when it reappears is whatever fits the
surroundings, and can survive. This can be used EITHER to move out
into UberSpace or to move through space and time.
-Ann O'Nymous, Outside Space And Time
A Word About Words:
Puns.
-Ann O'Nymous, Passim
A Word About These Words:
All of these selections from the Ann O'Nymous papers, as they
have been called (her collected writings) were carefully selected
for maximum whatever-it-is-that-they-were-selected-on-the-basis-of.
Since they were selected by Ann herself, and nobody we asked seemed
to be Ann O'Nymous (at least, nobody who would give us her name),
we couldn't ask her what the selection was based on. Many of these
are only comprehensible to speakers of English, which is a shame.
-Ann O'Nymous, 1965, Somewhere In England or Something
A Word On Humour:
Notice the Canadian Spelling?
Notice the Significant Capitals?
Notice the Annoying Redundancy?
Sorry about that.
Anyhoo, humour is what the Church of MOO is all about. You
remember, of course, all that annoying talk about imprinting
circuits and brain stuff, and patterns of thought and all that? If
you skipped that section, you can skip this section too.
Humour is just a way of disrupting brain patterns. When you
tell a joke, you set up certain defaults in the brain (ack! techie
talk!) that you then knock down. That's the point of a pun, where
you suddenly change the meaning of a word. At any rate, some
humour is self-contained, which is fine, because it sort of
generally stimulates the brain to think GNU things, and some humour
is making fun of our culture.
Cultural humour is the best, of course, because the defaults
it knocks down are the circuit-conditioning thingumbobs that are
there to begin with. If it's well done, or else extremely
elaborate, it can actually break down some of these circuits, and
lead you to other things. Other Churches just give you the setup,
but never the punchline, because they want you to follow THEIR
doctrine. If they had ever "formalized" (written down) the
"punchline", it would knock them off their feet.
Church Of MOO? It's different. We've got both bits stuck in
together. That's "the" meaning of the Halfy. A big setup V and a
little dotty punchline there in the middle.
Remember this when you look up the circuit thing to figure out
what the hell I'm talking about: all of those circuits are LIMITING
imprints, that keep you stuck in your own little rut. Your
language, your sexual preferences, your psychic abilities, all of
it.
Most of this annoying mind drug is setup, some of it is
punchline, and the rest of it is dull but sincere filler.
-Ann O'Nymous, book signing in Vegas, 1956
A Longish Word On Memes:
The Book of MOO is designed to be at least partly
understandable by anyone and everyone. It is written from as many
viewpoints and from inside as many meme systems as possible, so
that anyone can grasp that preserving as many memes as possible is
the most important activity there is. The mixing and mingling of
memes is as important to our continued survival as the mixing and
mingling of genes was to our unicellular ancestors billions of
years ago. Just like all higher life forms today reproduce
sexually or had ancestors who did, all higher datalife forms in the
future will be MOOists, or have ancestors who were.
If you cannot understand MOOism after taking this annoying
mind drug, you are either chronically stubborn, chronically stupid,
or chronically stuck in your own little rut. Whichever way you
slice it, you're chronically something that starts with "ST". But
that's not the point. MOO is not one of those religions where you
can only grasp the basic tenets if you contort yourself into weird
postures, eat strange mushrooms, and talk to a hypnotBLATTT guru
for years.
The point is that preserving memes is the single most
important activity there is, and even if a meme is totally alien to
you, and makes you throw up to so much as contemplate it, you must
try to preserve it, and even think within it. This is because we
NEVER EVER EVER know what will be useful in the far future, be it
intolerance, war, cannibalBLATT, or WHATEVER.
This means that ANYONE is a MOOist, as long as they are
themself. And whose else would they be? Even if "being yourself"
means conforming to society. Even if "being yourself" means being
what other people want you to be. BEING YOURSELF will ALWAYS mean
being whatever it is that you end up being anyway, not necessarily
what you'd LIKE to be. However, do what you like, as long as its
what you were going to end up doing if you hadn't read this. Or
even if it isn't. It doesn't matter.
And if you STILL don't understand, maybe the rest of the
Book will say something to YOUR worldview. This one was geared for
the Fuller-Type PseudoScientBLATTTs. A real skeptical science type
would NEVER believe empty meaningless gibberish like this.
-Ann O'Nymous, 1967, Berkeley or Miskatonic or wherever
A Word On Truth:
There's a lot of absolute truths, but only one ABSOLUTE TRUTH.
The problem's tellin' the difference.
For an imaginary man to go up a flight of stairs, all that's
needed are imaginary stairs, but that won't do for a real person.
For my money, I'd rather be an imaginary person, cause then
you can do things EITHER way.
Penguin's Toenails! I'm GLAD I ain't real.
-Ann O'Nymous, op cit or ibid or something
A Word On Paranoia:
There is NO Paranoid Society. I never heard of any such a
thing, and if it did exBLATTT, I would certainly not join it, and
I most definitely am not a member of anything even vaguely
resembling it. I don't know anything about it. Honest. I'd know,
if it exBLATTTed. And it doesn't. Even if I did know about it,
and for some reason I wasn't going to tell you, I still wouldn't
know anything about it. Because it just doesn't exBLATTT. I've
never even heard of such a thing.
-Ann O'Nymous, [CENSORED], 1963
A Word On MechanBLATT:
"BOB" Anton Wilson is a pattern of electromagnetic field
vortices and wave/particle nodes, which, while nonconstant, has a
certain characterBLATTTic positioned negentropy vector, keeping it
primarily the same throughout its temporary hBLATTTory. One
endpoint of this vector is in what is generally referred to as the
"twentieth century", the other in the "twenty first century". It
contains certain neuro-patterend harmonics in the "nervous system"
component of the pattern (though it's true that separating the
components is difficult, because of the constant material
interchanges taking place) which resonate in harmonics with its
surroundings.
The result of this is that, in the higher-order semantic
negentropy vectors it itself uses (words), it "took a brain
imprint" for certain even HIGHER order "patterns of words", or tri-
meta-negentropic positioned vectors (ideas), which causes it to act
as a generalized non-binary Turing machine, taking all interactions
with those pattern segments connected to the nervous system which
are sensitive to various electromagnetic flux patterns, which the
negentropy vector converts to patterns apparently resembling
certain large-scale features of the "external" world (segments of
the world-vector not IMMEDIATELY concerned with the "BOB" vector)
and reprocess them through certain tri-meta-negentropic vector
pattern buffer filters ("prejudices" and "semantic imprints") to
arrive at a quatra-meta-negentropic positioned vector
("worldview").
This "worldview" is, like most quatra-meta-negentropic
positioned vectors, based largely on the pre-exBLATTTing patterns
in the "BOB" vector, and thus the "semantic" output of this
generalized Turing machine tends to follow similar patterns to the
processing. This means that the "annoying mind drugs" produced by
the "BOB" vector express a tri-meta-negentropic vector which is
functionally isomorphic on a "semantic" level of electromagnetic
"neural" interactions of other similar ("human") vectors to a
model-world in which all of "reality" consBLATTTs of the processing
and tri-meta-negentropic vectoring similar to that produced by
"domesticated primates" (vectors with a maximum 0.00000001 sigma
variation from the "BOB" vector's own pattern).
In "human parlance", the "BOB" vector "believes" that "the
real world" "is" in "a certain sense", "non-objective" and "created
by human neurolinguBLATTTic imprints". Typically, this quatra-
meta-negentropic potitioned vector "semantic output" has a greater
than 2.6 sigma variation from the primary world-vector. In human
parlance, "a load of crap".
-Ann O'Nymous, to the Qzlxptl High Command, outtatime
A Word On Lloyd's Silly MysticBLATT:
UberSpace is where hiccups go when nobody is hiccuping them,
where ideas go when nobody is thinking them, where your mind goes
when you travel between worlds, where socks go when they disappear
into the laundry, where coathangers come from when you leave them
unattended, where miracles come from, and MOST IMPORTANTLY, where
totally inexplicable coincidences spring from when you become an
apostle of MOO.
For instance, when Floyd was watching a popular television
show, a character chanced to quote a Shakespeare sonnet (number 18)
saying "So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives
this and this gives life to thee". Less than an hour later, he
read those very same lines in an annoying mind drug he JUST
HAPPENED to be flipping through. And, by a totally bizzarre
coincidence, the chapter of the annoying mind drug was about
totally bizzarre coincidences, and how it was utterly IMPOSSIBLE
that anything like that could EVER EVER EVER happen in a human
lifetime, complete with a most excellent mathematical proof.
Just remember that next time you're in Brazil.
-Ann O'Nymous, 1066, Time Warpville
A Word On Taboo:
Virtually anything considered taboo by a society is because it
is powerful, or because it was important to a society the GNU one
overturned. If you want to gain power over your surroundings that
your friends and neighbors don't, look into the taboos, and see
what it was that's being covered up.
In Dark-Age to Victorian times, up to and including the
twenty-first century, sex was the big taboo. Most particularly,
any sex that wasn't with exactly one consenting adult of the
opposite sex and the same species. That means sex with people of
the same sex, sex with children, sex with people who don't consent,
sex with animals, sex with dead people, sex with inanimate objects,
sex with lots of people, sex using whips/chains or other
implements, or any combinations of the above (whipping a team of
dead horses).
This means:
a) people are silly and stuffy
b) MOOists are sick perverts
c) there's a good reason this is anonymous
d) SOMEONE has been reading Robert Anton Wilson again
e) nothing at all, life is meaningless
f) DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT SEX, DAMMIT!
g) all of the above
h) none of the above
i) some of the above
j) lots of the above
You have three minutes to think about your answer. You may
circle any choice, and look in the back of the book for the correct
response.
You won't find it, but you can look.
I wouldn't want to spoil your fun.
-Ann O'Nymous, anonymously
A Word On Cults:
MOOism is a cult. It's never claimed to be anything else. A
cult is a sort of a cybernetic social system that modifies the
memetic patterns of the people who enter it. It gives them
feedback on their thoughts, and makes small modifications to
convert them the the cult's dominant belief system or
neurolinguBLATTTic organizational structure.
Humans are perfectly suited to this, by the gradual minimax
forces of evolution (each evolutionary choice optimizes an
organBLATT for the present conditions, without any looking to the
future, which means you don't always end up with optimized
systems). In the past, there was great reason for people to be
easily reprogrammable. Each tribe had its own little cult, and
members had to be easily indoctrinated when they moved from one
place to another. This took advantage of a set of systems already
evolved: learning.
The only difference between MOOism and other cults is that the
program which gets indoctrinated is an unstable pattern, one that
includes a model of cults and of MOO as a cult, and tells the
members to overthrow their own brainwashing. This is one of the
most effective ways of passing on this particular message, since it
causes certain charBLATTmatic members to found their OWN cults, and
spread the message further.
Sometimes they don't spread the message, but that's okay,
because it simply increases memetic diversity.
-Ann O'Nymous, Neurolinguistic Programmer's Conference, 1997
A Word On TaoBLATTT:
TaoBLATTT (pronounced DOW-BLAT), is a philosophy with a great
deal going for it. Well, sort of. It's not really a philosophy.
It's just a way of being.
Lao-Tzu once said that the Tao which can be spoken is not the
true Tao. That's sort of like how you can't fully know yourself
(including the knowledge that you know, and the knowledge that you
know THAT, and so forth). Except that in this case, it's the
UNIVERSE which can't know the Tao. The Tao IS the universe (sort
of, kind of, a little bit). It's like the Zen idea that the world
is the world, and the words and ideas in our minds which we use to
talk and think about it aren't. It is itself.
The Tao is the Tao. Not too helpful.
Things go on. Always have, always will. Nothing you can do
about it. Best not to think about it.
Whatever happens is what happens, but the way of Wei Wu Wei,
action without action, is the most effective way of getting things
done. "The Tao does nothing, but through it, all things are done."
Don't push against the flow of things, go WITH it. This is sort of
like saying "whatever you want will happen, if only you want the
right things". Well, that's sorta true.
You'll be happier if you just go with it, and take what it is
as what it is, and not what you want it to be. Within everything,
there is the Yin and the Yang, as they call them. The active and
the passive, positive and negative, male and female, light and
dark. By achieving balance between the two in your life, and not
struggling for Yin or for Yang, you'll end up being happier. If
you don't want to be happy, that's your right, but you probably
won't enjoy it as much. No, wait, scratch that "probably"...
Some consider that the Tao (which means "Way", by the Way) to
be God. That was never the point of the Tao, since the Tao is not
a mind, it's only a principle of How Things Work ("Tao Teh Ching",
a book by Lao-Tzu). But it's a good way of looking at God. Well,
sort of.
If the Tao were God, or (to put it a better, and rather
different, Way), if God is the Universe and how it works, then
everything is the will of God. Not because God makes things
happen, but because "the Will of God" is SYNONYMOUS with "what
happens". All books are the Revealed Word Of God, and all actions
are miracles.
A TaoBLATTT Sage was once heard to remark that "My miracle is
that I sleep when I am tired and eat when I am hungry." Just go
with it. The simplicity of the Tao in your life is very rewarding,
but the Tao which can be spoken is not the true Tao. Don't expect
ME to tell you how to do it.
-Ann O'Nymous, wherever, whenever, so it goes.
A Word On Circuits:
Remember Floyd's silly "Ninth Circuit" from a while back in
the Book? The Top Secret one? Well, like much of our religion, it
was only CLAIMING to be Top Secret, but actually isn't. I'm going
to tell you what it does.
It lets you get control over UberSpace, and not just the
Multiverse like the eighth. Or no, it lets you add GNU circuits
to your brain. Or no, it...
Actually, I tell a lie. It IS Top Secret.
-Ann O'Nymous, at the Neurological Anonymous Convention 1965
A Word On Science:
You've heard talk in the Book of MOO about the strange
religion called Science. This is fine, but most of you probably
don't even know what it is or how it works. It can be boiled down
to a few simple principles, from which we gather knowledge about
the world and how it works. These can be applied to ALL areas of
life.
00001: Observations
The single most important aspect of science is OBSERVING the
world, gathering information on what goes where and when. From
these you make a hypothesis about what makes things happen the way
they do, or what kind of pattern they follow. From this, you make
predictions about how things should behave in the future, under
certain kinds of conditions, and check to see if they do. If they
don't, start again.
00002: Priority
Observations are ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS more important than
theory or hypothesis. If your experiment contradicts theory, AND
it can be duplicated under controlled conditions, THE THEORY IS
WRONG!
00003: Occam's Razor
When you're making a hypothesis, always use the one that fits
the facts the best. If two fit equally well, use the one that
needs the fewest assumptions (for instance, is it MORE likely that
Jesus resurrected from the dead, or is it MORE likely that the six
people who wrote the bible are lying for some reason?) If two
theories are equal in these two areas, gather more observations.
Fer instance. Suppose a friend comes to you saying she has
just seen evidence that someone has magical powers, and walked
through a solid concrete wall. First, ask yourself if it's more
likely that your friend is lying, or she actually believes it.
IF it's more likely that she believes it, ask if it's more
likely that she merely THOUGHT she saw it, or actually did. IF
it's more likely that she actually did, ask if it's more likely
that someone has magical powers, or that someone's using a method
you can't think of COW off the top of your head. Here, you don't
have enough information, so you go to see it yourself. You see
someone walk straight through a concrete wall without any mirrors
or anything like that. You can watch up close, and you don't see
any trickery. Now it seems more likely that there's something
going on you don't understand, so you apply for a research grant
to study it and quantify it. Just DON'T assume it's magic as soon
as you hear stories about it.
Simple, eh?
-Ann O'Nymous, 1912, Bulgaria
A Word On The GNU Science:
Much of the mystical/scientBLATTTical muddly-fuddly that goes
on in the so-called minds of many of the semimystical pseudo-
thinkers of our age is based almost entirely on a completely false
understanding of modern physics. Of course, it's entirely possible
that all of what they say is perfectly "true", but don't let
yourself be fooled into believing that it's been "proved" by modern
physics. Don't let that happen. Or I'll have to hurt you.
Many people take the discoveries of Quantum Mechanics and
Relativity to mean that there is no objective reality worth
speaking of, and all the world is constructed in our heads.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Well, okay, some things
could be, but most of them would be pretty obviously wrong, like
"James Bond is a Martian", for instance. Everyone knows James Bond
is fictional. And a Venusian, to boot.
At any rate, much of the confusion comes from a rather severe
misinterpretation of the statement of Quantum Mechanics which
requires that certain properties of particles and energy-quanta
must be observed in order to have a specific value. These so-
called philosophers then take this to mean that the mind has to
interfere with the world to CREATE reality with the MIND. It is
interesting that none of the people telling us that this is what
physics in fact SAYS, are themselves physicBLATTTs. In fact, all
that this statement means is that the physical act of making a
measurement causes a collapse of a probability wave function, in
much the same way that a narrow sandbar causes a water-wave to
collapse into breakers.
But, after all, the MIND has no special prerogative on
changing the world any more than a potato does. The mind is
caused, physically, by the (extremely complicated) electrochemical
interactions of neurons, glial cells, neurotransmitter balances in
synapse gaps, and various other, more abstruse, elements of
psychoneurophysiology which I won't go into here. This essentially
boils down to the movements and charges of various kinds of
molecules, and then in turn to the electrochemical flux of various
atoms, or, to get more basic, particles like electrons, protons,
neutrons, virtual photons (which mediate electromagnetic
interactions), and so forth. Every phenomenon in the world also
breaks down to this level. If the MIND can change the world, then
so can any pattern of interactions above a certain level. That
level just happens to be physical size. As soon as a quantum
waveform collapse has an effect on the macroscopic world (the world
we can see and measure without too much difficulty), it is
"observed" by a pattern: the pattern of how things go.
In fact, the actual present interpretation of the Quantum
Mechanical version of the world is that the probability waveforms
which describe the particle (an electron or photon, for instance)
are THE state of the particle. Making a measurement to determine
the position or velocity of the particle will yeild an answer, but
the answer is essentially random, with its probabilities determined
by the waveform of the particle. Because measuring either of these
properties affects the other, their precisions are inversely
proportional: the more exactly you know one, the less exactly you
know the other. In fact, the relationship is very well defined, as
follows:
That is, the product of the inaccuracies measurements of
position and momentum is equal to or greater than Planck's constant
divided by two pi (that is to say, a REAL tiny number). This is a
result of the amount by which a measurement affects the particle in
question. For instance, the only way to determine the position of
an electron is to bombard it with high-energy photons, to see where
it is. This has the effect of giving the electron an additional
unknown momentum, by pushing on it, making the momentum less
certain. But the size of the uncertainty in the collapse of the
wavefunction is always the same, no matter what the object being
measured.
For comparatively huge things, like baseballs and elephants,
the uncertainty is very small, so our common-sense is evolved to
respond accordingly. But things don't behave that way on the level
of the individual particle any more than people act according to
mob psychology, or your fingernail worries about earning money. On
a small level, it makes more sense to speak of particles/waves (for
on that level, the two are basically interchangeable) as BEING the
probability fields.
The "Schroedinger's Cat" paradox, in which the random collapse
of a waveform is used to kill a cat (or not, depending on how it
collapses), is not really a paradox. The fuzzy-headed thinkers
seem to suggest that it takes a human observation to make the cat
either alive or dead, since "OBSERVATION" is what makes the
waveform collapse.
A cat's waveform is so tightly defined that the only way in
which it can be part-alive and part-dead is the same way
politicians are. Metaphorically, that is.
The act of measuring the waveform to decide whether or not to
kill the cat collapses the waveform, and the human mind doesn't
enter into it. Those who say that consciousness has a special
place in the cosmos understand neither consciousness nor the
cosmos. Those who say that Quantum Mechanics means that we can't
know anything about the REAL world because it's all uncertain
simply failed to grasp the point, which is that Quantum Mechanics
changed the nature of the questions we can ask, but didn't make the
"real" world suddenly go away.
Then there's Relativity. These same so-called wise ones tell
us that Relativity says truth is relative, and nothing is real.
Bullshit.
Okay, so truth IS relative, and nothing IS real, but
relativity doesn't tell us that.
Relativity tells us that time is measured differently by
observers in different reference frames. It tells us that
simultaneous events in one reference frame might not be
simultaneous in another reference frame. It does NOT say that
there is no external truth.
In ordinary geometry, distances between two points are
determined by the equation
In RelativBLATTTic geometry, adding time as a fourth
dimension, aside from x, y, and z, the equation becomes quite
different, since there is a GNU non-cartesian dimension. Time is
a unique dimension in Relativity (that's what cosmologBLATTTs mean
when they talk about symmetry breaking, or at least one of the
various things they mean), and has a different formula:
This is where the math gets rather tricky for most people who
haven't taken University maths, and where the "philosophers"
generally stop. When the time part of the dBLATTTance between the
two points is greater than the total dBLATTTance of the space part
(as it is for all points you can connect by going slower than
light, since we use the speed of light to make the units
interchangeable) then you end up with the subjective length as the
square-root of a negative interval. This is permitted only if you
allow "imaginary" numbers (defined, conveniently enough, as the
square roots of negative numbers) for the subjective
dBLATTTance.
So since the dBLATTTance is a time, we say that time is
"imaginary" space. Of course, these numbers are perfectly real,
it's just that they were named in the Greek tradition, which said
anything you couldn't count was imaginary.
As you tilt your path towards the space and time being equal
(yon speed o' light I mentioned before), the subjective dBLATTTance
gets to be a smaller and smaller time. That's just geometry, using
the GNU screwy-type spacetime geometry of Relativity. That means
that as you approach the speed of light, your time passes slower
relative to an external observer. In fact, with a little bit o'
fancy math, it turns out that it's always slowed down by just
enough to make the speed o' light seem exactly the same. So the
speed of light is ALWAYS the same amount faster than you, no matter
WHAT your speed.
That itself has strange results, in that each intertial
reference frame (moving observer) has to have a different set of
axes. The space axes get tilted "sideways" so that the
dBLATTTorted perceptions of the observer seem perfectly ordinary.
Or perhaps the other way around. Beacause Relativity DOES say that
time-space co-ordinate systems are relative to the observer.
Of course, this also means that, by a simple calculation, if
you were to travel faster than light, your time would turn back
into space, and you'd cease to exBLATTT. Not a good thing. That's
why Relativity says that you can't go faster than the speed of
light. Not because there's some barrier that'll stop you (though
there is in a sense, since you have to keep putting more and more
energy in to get closer and closer to lightspeed, until you'd need
an infinite amount of energy to reach it), but more because
anything travelling faster than light wouldn't exBLATTT in the
normal sense of the word.
These results of Relativity are all derived from basic
principles discovered over a hundred years ago, and yet we still
find it difficult to accept their reality, because they don't
accord with what we see in the world. All we have to do to
remember that they predict the world to look exactly the same as it
does, in normal circumstances. It's only when we deal with things
moving very fast, or things that are very small, that we find these
strange effects. All of these effects are based on the geometry of
spacetime, which is different from the geometry you're taught in
school.
CHAPTER 23, BOOK 32, Grate Book Of GNU
1: Thought you'd gotten rid of me, didn't you?
2: Well, I sure guess I fooled you.
3: Look, I don't want to make you feel gnervous or anything.
4: It's just that you're already at LEAST a Fateor of MOO.
5: And MOO is too hopelessly heretical to last the coming day.
6: The Day of Gnuclear Holocaust.
7: Otherwise gnown as X-Day.
8: By Gnovember Gnineteen Gninety Seven, all will be in readiness.
9: If you haven't joined the Church of GNU by then...
10: Who GNOWS what could happen to your immortal soul?
11: They might feed it to the gnus.
12: And you'd just hate that, wouldn't you?
13: So repent, sinner, and join the GNU Age.
Even the so called "bent space" is really just WAY nonstandard
geometry. The shortest dBLATTTance connecting two points in an
area of "bent" space is NOT a straight line, it's a slightly curved
line. So light, which follows the shortest paths to where it's
going, gets all curved, so it acts like bent space. Really,
imagining it as a bent-in lump in space, while it helps you
understand what's happening, isn't entirely accurate. All that's
going on is that the numbers which describe how the points in that
area are connected to one another are slightly changed. Or changed
a lot, near a black hole. The reason you fall down is related to
the fact that motion is relative, so you act as though you and the
heavy-thing were moving together, and you curve towards it,
following the shortest path. But anyway.
All of this Quantum Mechanics and Relativity have been used to
suggest that "The REAL World Doesn't ExBLATTT". In fact, all they
tell us is that the REAL world is pretty fucking bizzarre. And
that the fuzzy-headed "thinkers" of our age would prefer to believe
that the world doesn't exBLATTT than that "common sense" could be
wrong.
COMMON SENSE IS WHAT SAYS THE EARTH IS FLAT!
Of course, all of this is just the optimized worldview for
certain people with rationalBLATTTic minds, the data available from
scientific experiments, and various other preconditions. In the
Metaverse model, our minds exBLATTT simultaneously in all
universes, with all possible truths, in which we'd see what we see.
Looking for the "REAL" way the world works is irrelevant, because
it doesn't have one.
Look at it this way. Suppose you have a VR suit (Virtual
Reality). It's hooked up to a computer which is generating a
virtual world, very different from ours. Goggles display images of
the world which look perfectly real. Earphones make the sounds of
the world pefectly precise. A skintight suit makes it feel exactly
the same. Small sacks of chemicals make it taste and smell
perfectly real. If you stab yourself in it, the suit cuts you. If
you jump off a cliff in it, the suit kills you. Whether or not the
world is "really real", it makes good sense to act like it is, or
you're liable to die.
Similarly, it's just a fuck of a lot easier to assume the
world "really" works the way it seems to, because, in all honesty,
WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE? But that's no reason not to want to escape
the "real" world into the REAL world. Right?
Anyway, for more information on Quantum Mechanics or
Relativity, try "A Brief HBLATTTory Of Time" by St. Stephen
Hawking, and any number of other books available from most
bookstores. Or don't, if you don't want to.
Sheesh.
-Ann O'Nymous, lecture At QuanCon II«, 1997
A Word On Fools:
Everyone is a fool, but some of them don't like to admit it.
Here's a lBLATTT of 60 kinds of Fools
1. Fools who admit to being fools
2. Fools who don't admit to being fools
3. Fools who think they're unprejudiced, but aren't
4. Fools who know they're prejudiced, but think they're right
5. Fools who think they're right about anything
6. Fools who have infinite egos
7. Fools who have no egos
8. Fools who are MOOists, but don't admit it
9. Fools who admit to being MOOists
10. Fools who follow the Middle Path
11. Fools who are extremBLATTTs
12. Fools who are hung up on proof
13. Fools who accept things on blind faith
14. Fools who are wishy-washy
15. Fools who don't like people who disagree with what they think
16. Fools who like people no matter WHAT they think
17. Fools who are wishy-washy (again)
18. Fools who are redundant
19. Fools who won't tell you their names
20. Fools who let anyone know who they are
21. Fools who believe everything they hear or read
22. Fools who won't believe anything you tell them
23. Fools who can't decide WHAT to believe
24. Fools who decide what to believe before hearing it
25. Fools who let content determine whether they believe something
26. Fools who believe the world of the senses is an illusion
27. Fools who believe the world of the senses is important
28. Fools who make redundant lBLATTTs
29. Fools who get stuck in stupid and pointless ruts (like BLATT)
30. Fools who keep making stupid puns
31. Fools who can't take a joke
32. Fools who laugh all the time
33. Fools who won't fit into any category, no matter how hard you
try
34. Fools who take this annoying mind drug at face value
35. Fools who ignore what this annoying mind drug says
36. Fools who think this annoying mind drug is a colossal waste of
time
37. Fools who think this annoying mind drug is just a slight waste
of time
38. Fools who don't realize what a waste of time this annoying mind
drug is
39. Fools who lBLATTTen to music too loud
40. Fools who don't lBLATTTen to music at all
41. Fools who won't let you hear their music
42. Fools who try to stretch lBLATTTs to a certain length
43. Fools who perpetually miss the point
44. Fools who get the point but ignore it
45. Fools who don't ignore the point, but fail at following it
46. Fools who succeed at following the wrong point
47. Fools who only do what they want to do
48. Fools who only do what's best for them
49. Fools who only do what others want
50. Fools who compromise
51. Fools who won't compromise
52. Fools who blow their minds on drugs
53. Fools who swallow society conditioning
54. Fools who assume all conditioning is bad
55. Fools who are wishy-washy (yet again)
56. Fools who repeat themselves redundantly
57. Fools who try to repeat themselves NON-redundantly
58. Fools who make stupid comparisons
59. Fools who think this lBLATTT has no point
60. Fools who read this lBLATTT from beginning to end
-Ann O'Nymous, 1926, Foolsville Wisconsin
A Word On The WombatWorld:
The WombatWorld was a GNU universe centered on the Holy City
of Udduwah in 1991 by "BOB". It lasted for about 300 years, in
which
time everything REALLY FUCKING WIERD until it spontaneously
vanished of its own free will.
It was originally inhabited by people whose minds came half
from our universe and our time, half from our universe a few
hundred years from now, stuck in the bodies of the people in OUR
time. Floyd Gecko, for instance, was half the "Floyd Gecko" from
our time, and half Floyd Gecko (a mad scientBLATTT from 2197). The
only big difference between our world and the Wombat World was that
everything you believed in the wombat world was literally true.
This caused certain problems, particularly as several people
(and a wombat) from the WombatWorld escaped backwards in time into
our own universe (Malaclypse, Peng-Peng, and others), eventually
coming to rest in Atlantis (the wombat was the Great Big Thing)
and founding the Church Of MOO. This explains why we're so silly.
The Nice Thing about the WombatWorld is that all those litte
predictions about the End of The World that never happened in our
world DID happen in theirs. The Earth fell into the sun, Hell
froze over, aliens landed and killed us all... OOOH, it was
gnasty.
GNU! COW! SPAM! QUACK!
-Ann O'Nymous, 1998, WombatWorld
A Word On Conformity:
So you think it will make you well rounded as a person, huh?
Lots of GNU experience, meet GNU people, try GNU things... So
what? What good will that do you? Being well rounded never helped
ME.
Builds character. HUH! So it makes people think better of
you. If they didn't think well of you to begin with, they weren't
your friends. If they weren't your friends, what do YOU care what
they think?
Ohhh... I get it. You're just trying GNU things so you
can fit in and have more friends, not because you're different.
Never mind. I get it.
-Ann O'Gnymous, to a neighbor
A Word On Henkin:
This here's about Henkin sentences and Godel sentences. If
that confuses you, don't worry about it, because it doesn't reall
say much about it. Look at the following sentence:
"There's a certain long and convoluted sentence which avoids
mentioning the fact that it claims that it itself is true, which is
the only true sentence in the world."
If it's talking about itself, indirectly, then what it's
doing is claiming to be true, which is what it says. In that case,
there's no way to decide whether it's true or not. If it's false,
then what it says is false, so it's false. On the other hand, if
it's true, then what it says is true, so it's true. Either way is
just as consBLATTTent, and there's no way to decide.
If it isn't talking about itself, then it says that it's
false, in which case, it's even MORE undecidable. If it's false,
then what it says is false, so then it's true. If it's true, then
what it says is true, so it's false. Either way is
inconsBLATTTent,
so there's no way to decide.
Either way, there's no way to decide.
My friend Henkin says it's like Syn's brother Otto. Syn
says that it's a very appropriate name, and Aunt says it's a very
inappropriate name. Either way, it works.
Actually, I think they missed the point. It's like a word
like "Autological" or "Heterological", but nobody lBLATTTens to me.
-Ann O'Nymous
A Word On Smart Idiots:
I dunno if you know Greek. It doesn't matter. The point
is that my brother Harry does, and acts like a pretty ugly clever
idiot at times. I mean, we spent a small fortune on a baby grand
for the idiot savant, and then found out he wasn't an awful good
player. It was old news that the odds were even on his EVER
getting a job, despite being a young Republican in the time of
President Reagan, which ought to tell you something. It was a
small miracle that he got a series of jobs in factories. He was
fired for giving freezer burn to fresh frozen jumbo shrimp, and
finally went to university and got a job as a student teacher. Oh,
"same difference" he said when we complained about the conspicuous
absence of any money or success in the jobs. He was always a rebel
without a cause that way, and in the forties he went around in loud
shirts, tight slacks, and loose tights, annoying all the people
from the Moral Majority. Then he got this job as a middle manager
in charge of bus schedules for a while and then in the postal
service before getting security clearance because of his good
business ethics. He went into military intelligence, and offered
his constructive criticBLATT to the United Nations. Then he dealt
with Iranian Moderates in the 1980's, and had to quit. It's an
open secret that he went just a little crazy, trying to invent a
GNU pun, and when he couldn't, he set out to find himself.
Eventually he snapped, and ran half-naked through an industrial
park to drown in a pond. His personal effects were all in random
order in his private apartment, and we attended the reading of his
will's final draft in expressive silence. There were no death
benefits, which was hardly surprising. Harry never was much of a
breadwinner.
-Ann O'Nymous, 1984, Greater GNU York
A Word About El Halfy:
There is more symbolBLATT in the Halfy than you might expect
from merely reading the "SymbolBLATT in the Halfy" section in the
Book of Ann. The TRUE symbolBLATTof the Halfy is rather more
complex than any of those. It's a simplification of something far
more complicated in structure, you see.
Imagine a V shape, with no dot, but with an upside-down V that
sprouts from it to touch where the dot would be. This makes two
new V shapes, and you do the same to them, and so on forever. The
"ideal" Halfy actually looks like this. It represents two things,
and the relationships between them, and the relationships between
the relationships, and so forth. It's sorta like a renormalization
in particle physics, but nobody really cares. What it means is
that if you think "the whole is more than the sum of its parts",
it's because you've missed some of its parts. The dot is there to
show an example of where two lines MEET, representing the only two
ENTIRELY OPPOSITE lines you can take from the bottom, and yet they
end up at the same spot. Opposites aren't really opposite.
It's also that non-opposite thingy that makes all those things
where it means two opposites coming together towards the bottom.
The dot signifies that a compromise doesn't have to lose anything
from EITHER of the opposites. Opposites aren't really opposite.
Fer instance, if you imagine one prong means "moral" (whatever THAT
means) and one means "immoral" (whatever THAT means), then the
compromise you'd expect (the bottom) is "amoral", but that's a bit
wishy washy, so you get to use the DOT, the NON-WISHY-WASHY version
of amorality. Renormalized.
Neat, huh?
Like I said in 1967, MOOists should actually look to the
OUTSIDE of the Halfy for most models, when looking for a way to
behave. I mean, a negative space.
Negative spaces are cool. They're whatever you have left when
you take OUT a certain shape. It's the properties of the NEGATIVE
SPACE that makes a knot stay tied. It's the properties of the
negative space that make a joke funny. But that's as may be. The
point is, in a logical negative space (ack! more techie talk!) you
get negative logic, negative facts. Although the negative facts
seem inconsBLATTTent to positive-space logic, they're perfectly
rational to negative space logic. In order to be a TRUE MOOist,
you need to live in the negative space of the real world some of
the time. And for all those meanings of the Halfy where it
symbolizes behaviour, you should try to live in the negative space
most of the time. After all, the negative space covers MOST
possiblities.
Just remember to come home once in a while. After all, the
negative space of the real world is the WOMBAT WORLD, and it's a
nice place to visit, but you wouldn't want to live there.
-Ann O'Nymous, Greater Wombatworld, 1994
A Word About Hypocrisy:
I can't stand hypocrisy in other people. It's okay when I do
it, but you'd better not, or WHOA BOY, look out!
-Ann O'Nymous, Washington D.C., 1973
A Word About Authority:
Only those dumb religions like SubGenius and DiscordianBLATT
acutally have NO authority, where everyone is equal, and none of
those titles actually signifies higher rank.
MOOist ranks DO mean something. Half-Mad ACUTALLY IS God, and
Floyd Gecko ACTUALLY IS incredibly superior to most of you. Those
silly "wierd" religions deny the "leader" principle completely,
well, they're just duping themselves just as much as anyone else.
However, just because they're your leaders doesn't mean you
have to do what they say. If you don't want to, or you're not
interested in what they have to say, your answer can range from
doing it anyway out of some wierd sense of duty, through
insBLATTTing "I don't CARE what you think, stupid" or "Blow it out
your ear, Cinnamon-Feet" to an elegant, if simple, "Fuck you!"
Leaders lead, but you don't have to follow, eh?
-Ann O'Nymous, Republican Convention, 1960...
A Word About Sex:
If I can slip into the persona of Rob Anton Wilson, I'll just
say that all "primate symbolBLATT" is based on sex. All of it.
Actually, that's only partly true. Sex is a big part of what us
primates are about, but it's only a big PART.
Still, most of the writings and stuff and the symbols ARE
based on sex. It's that "sexual-semantic" thing that associates
words with sex. Sex and death, death and sex. The two are stuck
together in our genes, because whenever you see death, your genes
tell you you have to increase the population again. Sex and death,
see?
So all our death-symbols are sex stuff. Daggers plunging into
beating red hearts. Vivid, that.
But semantics is close to sex too. The Halfy, for instance,
which summarizes the Church Of MOO, not only represents Sex on the
surface, but also (Penguin's Toenails, do we NEVER stop giving you
new meanings?) represents the sorta "spectrum of sexual
preference". Of course, it's more complicated than just a
"spectrum", but a simplification can't hurt.
What we mean by this is that, like with all the other sort-of
meanings for it, there's "hetero" on one prong (PRONG?) and "homo"
on the other, "bi" at the junction (just as far away from either of
them as they are from each other), and, of course, the inevitable
DOT. What's that? It's "other"... Just as restrictive as either
of the two extremes, but somehow middle-of-the-road... That's
where a MOOist should aim for. Leave alone the fact that it's more
fun than any of the other three, it's on a parallel with each of
them. As in, it's on the same horizontal line with two of them,
and the same vertical line as another (whew!)... But of course, as
usual, the TRUE MOOist covers ALL the Halfy.
As usual, that's a lie, the true MOOist covers the negative
space, but that's another story.
Actually, that's another lie. The True MOOist does whatever-
the-fuck it feels like.
-Ann O'Nymous, 1967, some brothel or other
A Word About Tlon:
Ever read Jorge Luis Borges' short story "Tlon, Uqbar, Orbis
Tertius"? Interesting. It's about this annoying mind drug,
apparently written by a conspiracy of scholars, about an imaginary
world called Tlon. The book is in the form of an encyclopaedia,
describing their world. The language of Tlon is such that there's
no such thing as a noun, but only verbs or adjectives. This means
that each person constructs their own hBLATTTory, their own
reality. Their logic makes paradoxes that seem totally stupid to
us. In Tlon, there is no plagiarBLATT because all annoying mind
drugs are written by "Author". In Tlon, all Books contain their
AntiBook. This encyclopaedia was aparently commissioned by a rich
millionaire (as opposed to a poor one) to show the nonexBLATTTent
God that a man could also create a world.
Although the millionaire was poisoned in Baton Rouge in
1928, the book was completed and eventually surfaced over a hundred
years later. People were so fascinated by the final product that
they began teaching courses in Tlon's logic, speaking Tlon,
thinking like the Tlon (a fad!) until, eventually, the Earth BECAME
Tlon, with each person creating a separate reality.
-Ann O'Nymous, Lecture On Something Or Other, 19something
A Word About Stupid Things:
Anyone who spouts philosophy should be told to go away. You
may justify this by saying "I no longer wish to put up with that
cliche pseudo-intelligent drivel you're spouting. It doesn't
agree with the cliche pseudo-intelligent drivel in the Book of
MOO."
If this isn't enough, they can be chased off with a stick.
As for those who are narrow minded even while claiming to be
wide-minded and enlightened, simply say the same thing, while
emphasizing the word "CLICHE".
-Ann O'Nymous to A. Pompous-Ass
A Word About Patterns:
Define function "Cluster"
ITERATE
if x [even] then
x(new)=x/2
if x [odd] then
x(new)=3x+1
if x=1 then end
COUNT ITERATIONS
This simple function produces what is essentially a random
number for each input number. But strangely, the Great MOO decided
to send us a message with it. Although each try on its own is
uninteresting, a lBLATTTing of consecutive results gives CLUSTERS
of identical answers, or groups of identical answers separated by
other identical answers. As the starting values increase, this
effect becomes more pronounced, as in the following (unusual)
sequence:
7083 : 57 iterations
7084 : 57 iterations
7085 : 57 iterations
7086 : 57 iterations
7087 : 57 iterations
7088 : 57 iterations
7089 : 57 iterations
7090 : 57 iterations
7091 : 57 iterations
7092 : 57 iterations
7093 : 57 iterations
7094 : 57 iterations
7095 : 57 iterations
7096 : 57 iterations
7097 : 57 iterations
7098 : 57 iterations
7099 : 57 iterations
Go figure. Weird, eh?
-Ann O'Nymous, FunnyPlace GNU Jersey, 1912.6
A Word About I:
Who am I? Am I Ann O'Nymous, the Pseudonmous author, or am
I the author behind the mask? Am I the sentence I am writing, or
am I the sentence you are reading? So tell me please, tell me, who
the hell am I?
-Ann O'Nymous, unknown
"CONTRACT"
As not written by
Confuse-Ius, anyway
(Note: For Official MOOist Tortue Purposes ONLY)
Article A: This contract shall be held binding under all
circumstances except when the validating Articles are not
fulfilled. All Articles are to be considered in order of priority,
and should invalidating circumstances cause them to come into
conflict with each other, the Article with the smallest number
shall take priority, except when any Articles dictate otherwise,
unless the Article so dictating is one of the Articles in conflict,
in which case, the other Article(s) in conflict shall have priority
over it, and numerical priority with each other. If more than one
Article in a given conflict state non-numerical priority, they
shall be considered subordinate to any other Article(s) in that
conflict, and in REVERSE numerical priority to each other.
Article 001: In this contract, Article A is defined as the
INTRODUCTORY ARTICLE.
Article 002: In this contract, the Articles beginning with
the number 0 are defined as DEFINING ARTICLES.
Article 003: In this contract, the Articles beginning with
the number 1 are defined as VALIDATING ARTICLES.
Article 004: In this contract, the Articles beginning with
the number 2 are defined as CLARIFICATION ARTICLES.
Article 005: In this contract, the Articles beginning with
the number 3 are defined as BINDING ARTICLES.
Article 006: The writer of this contract is hereinafter
referred to as THE PARTY IN THE FIRST PART.
Article 007: The undersigned of this contract is hereinafter
referred to as THE PARTY IN THE SECOND PART.
Article 008: If any Article consists of two parts, both of
those parts will be referred to as one Article by it's number.
Article 101: Article number 107 and 105 are to be followed
completely and in their entirety if this contract is to be held
valid.
Article 102: Article 106 is to be left in this contract, but
not followed, if this contract is to be considered valid.
Article 103: Article 104 is not valid except when Article 101
is not fulfilled
Article 104: Article 103 is to be followed at all times
except when Article 106 is neglected by the party in the second
part, but followed by the party in the first part.
Article 105: Article 102 is to be considered invalid if and
only if the following conditions are met: (a) that Article 120 is
not adhered to, and (b) that Article 112 is omitted by ONLY the
party in the first part, but not the party in the second part.
Article 106: This contract is validated if and only if
Article 101 is not validated.
Article 107a: Article 102 is to be considered invalidated if
the party in the second part is the same person as the party in the
first part.
Article 107b: Article 107a is to be considered valid if the
party in the first part is the same person as the party in the
first part.
Article 108: Article 107 is to be considered valid if and
only if Article 105 has been invalidated, and Article 105 is
validated under the circumstances that Article 107 is not.
Article 109: Article 116 is to be considered invalid if the
party in the second part has failed to comply with it.
Article 110: Article 109 takes precedence over Articles 105,
107, and 103, and is subordinate to Articles 110, 114, and 130.
Otherwise, it follows normal priority.
Article 111: Article 115 takes precedence over all other
Articles except this one, unless invalidated.
Article 112: All Articles except Article 112 are invalidated
if Article 111 OR 115 are not fulfilled by either party.
Article 113: Article 112 is invalidated, and all other
Articles valid, should Articles 103 AND 104 be simultaneously
invalidated.
Article 114: Article 110 takes precedence over all Articles
following Article 111 except where provisions otherwise dictate,
and supersedes Articles 101 through 107.
Article 115: Article 111 is inferior to all other Articles
except this one, except where otherwise indicated, or unless
invalidated.
Article 116: Article 114 is invalidated when the party in the
first part fails to meet the requirements of Article 101.
Article 117: Article 119 takes precedence over Article 118
unless article 118 is invalidated, in which case Article 118 takes
precedence over article 119, and is revalidated.
Article 118: Article 117 is not to be invalidated, but it's
terms reversed, in the event that the party in the first part is
not the party in the second part, or shares the same name with the
party in the second part.
Article 119: See Article 118, and give it precedence over
article 117.
Article 120: All articles of this contract must be fulfilled,
or the party in the first part shall be given the authority to
negate the terms hereinwritten under the conditions laid out in
article 121.
Article 121: Article 120 is to be considered invalid, and any
other six articles removed from this contract, if the terms therein
inscribed are met.
Article 122: The Party in the Second Part shall have the
obligation to locate, and bring into the possession of the Party in
the First Part, an object whose reflective frequencies lie in the
green range. If this is not done, Article 122 shall be considered
void.
Article 123: Article 121 is to be considered reversed: it's
terms shall be the opposite of what is in fact the validating
requirement, if and only if the Party in the First Part does not
have the same initials as the maternal grandfather of the Party in
the Second Part. This is the Grandfather Clause.
Article 124: Article 123 shall be omitted from the validating
clauses of this contract in the event that Article 122 is either
met, or invalidated.
Article 125: The Article whose numbering is the cube of the
third prime number shall be reversed, and it's terms the opposite
of what is required, if and only if the COW conditions set out in
Article 123 for a similar reversal are met, AND the Party in the
First Part is not the Party in the Second Part.
Article 126: Article 135, if and when it is added to this
contract, shall be considered a null clause, and it's terms are to
be considered of no value.
Article 127: See Article 122, and give it precedence over
Article 114.
Article 128: See Article 127, and reverse the terms of
precedence that it describes.
Article 129: This contract shall be considered unbinding if
the terms in Article 122 are met.
Article 130a: Article 129 shall be considered null and void,
as shall Article 130b, in the condition that the conditions set out
in Article 130b are not met.
Article 130b: Article 129 shall be considered null and void,
as shall Article 130a, in the condition that the conditions set out
in Article 130a are not met.
Article 131: See the Article following this one, and give it
precedence over this one.
Article 132: This Article shall be given the last order of
precedence in determining all matters of precedence, or of
validation.
Article 133: This Article shall be given the first order of
precedence in determining all matters of precedence, or of
validation.
Article 201: All Validation Articles are qualified to
determine the order of precedence of themselves.
Article 202: All Validation Articles are qualified to
determine the validity or invalidity of (a) any other Validation
Article, or (b) the legal binding of this contract.
Article 203: The definitions set out in the Defining Articles
shall be considered the basic definitions of this contract, and no
others shall be used which conflict with them.
Article 204: All Clarification Articles have the authority to
clarify or alter any inconsistencies or vagueness in any of the
Articles of this contract.
Article 205: Either Party may add a Clarification Article to
clarify any point which (s)he feels is important, provided that
(s)he consults with the other Party, and that they agree on the
wording.
Article 206: Neither Party may add or remove a Defining
Article, Validation Article, or Binding Article, without permission
of the other Party, and a signed statement by two witnesses to the
effect that there was consultation between the two of them.
Article 207: Neither Party may remove a Clarification Article
without a similar provision to the provision in Article 206.
Article 208: The Introductory Article of this contract is not
subject to numerical interperetation, and it's contents may not be
modified.
Article 209: If and when Clarification Articles are added to
this contract, they shall be given the next rank-order numeral
after the last Clarification Article whose first digit is 2, and
whose final digits are not composed entirely of zeroes.
Article 210: The phrase "breach of contract" shall be
interpreted in this sense as meaning the failure of the Party in
question to fulfill the responsibilities imposed on him or her by
the Binding Articles.
Article 211: No Article, nor set of Articles, may be
considered void simply on account of it's self-contradiction,
regardless of any other provisions in this, or any associated
contracts.
Article 212: No Article may be considered unimportant simply
on account of it's obviousness, or tautological nature.
Article 213: In the event that a Validating Article takes the
form of a responsibility or other obligation such as is the form of
the Binding Articles, and it is not provided with a validation
provision, it shall be considered a validation provision for the
entire contract.
Article 301: The Party in the First Part is to be held
responsible for all Binding Articles only in the event that the
Party in the Second Part commits a breach of contract.
Article 302: The Party in the Second Part is to be held
responsible for not committing a breach of contract, and for
following all Articles numbered between 303 and 305.
Article 303: The Party in the First Part is given the
obligation of assisting in some manner all legal actions taken on
the part of the Party in the Second Part. The Party in the Second
Part is likewise given the obligation to not take any legal action
without the assistance of the Party in the First Part.
Article 304: The Party in the Second Part is held responsible
for conforming to the actions to which he or she is held
responsible by Article 304.
Article 305: The Party in the Second Part is held responsible
to conform to the negation of the actions outlined in Article 304.
Article 306: The Party in the First Part, to be held
responsible for assistance of the Party in the Second Part in all
legal matters, is given the right to choose whatever fashion (s)he
deems appropriate in which to give this assistance.
Article 307: The Party in the First Part is to be held
responsible for conforming to the actions to which (s)he is held
responsible in Article 308.
Article 308: The Party in the First Part is to be held
responsible for conforming to the NEGATION of the actions to which
(s)he is held responsible in Article 307.
Article 309: The Party in the Second Part is to be held
responsible for the supervision of the Party in the First Part in
his completion of the responsiblities outlined in Articles 307 and
308.
Signature of The Party In The First Part -- __________________
Signature of The Party In The Second Part -- _________________
Both witnesses agree that they have witnessed the signing or
have reliable information from both parties that both parties have
signed in the above spaces and that they are not forgeries of any
kind.
Signature of First Witness -- ____________________________
Signature of Second Witness -- ___________________________
"NOSLIW NOTNA TREBOR"
As Written By
High Preest Floyd Gecko
Life's a funny ol' thing, innit? This is a story about "BOB"
Anton Wilson, or at least partially. I was sittin' at home, it was
2 AM on the morning of July 23, reading a book by "BOB" called
"Cosmic Trigger". It said in there that July 23 was the day Wilson
got secret messages from the star Sirius, and the day at which
contact between the two star systems is most powerful. Wow wow
wow, and wacky-wacky fun time. I was bowled over. Literally. It
was a wombat attack.
By 2:39:56.3, the wombat attack was over, and I got back to
reading this book. It also talked a bit about Astrology and how
"BOB" thought it was a bit silly, but hey what the fuck, and then
it got on about this Pyramid thing Charles Berlitz claimed he found
in the Bermuda Triangle as evidence of Ancient Atlantis, and how
"BOB" believed every single word of it, because he'd written about
exactly the same thing in his book Illuminatus! Wow wow wow, and
wacky-wacky fun thyme, like I said before. This was some pretty
wild stuff.
Only I happened to know that this whole Pyramid thing had been
debunked, and was thinking "Hey, this Wilson guy's pretty
credulous... Maybe the rest of this is bullshit too." So I went
to look up in the book that explained this debunking (Flim Flam! by
James Randi, in case anyone cares). While I was doing this, I was
thinking, "Hey, and that astrology thing... That lady in the
Occult Shop who talked to me came out and ASKED if I'm a Pisces,
she was that sure of it, when I'm actually an ARIES!"
The first thing I noticed when he opened the book to a random
page was a debunk of astrology. ". . . a glaring defect remains
which is not generally known to the public . . . April 7, which is
said to be strong Aries, is actually in Pisces." The passage also
contained a few 23's, which is normal, since they're the beginning
and ending dates of a lot of zodiac signs
April 7 is my birthday. Well, the one on the papers, anyway.
When I picked a Holy Name, I picked a Holy Birthday too.
Funny ol' thing, life.
I changed the Believer part of his mind right away, and set
the Skeptic part to work to come up with a theory.
It's funny, I thought, how all the "big" claims of paranormal
and really weird stuff like that are inevitably debunked as fakes,
misinterpretations of what's going on, hallucinations, or what have
you. And yet, all the "little" stuff, the coincidences, the
psychic harmonics or whatever, that cause Synchronicity, they can
never be debunked, but they just get disregarded as "Coincidence."
Funny, that. Being mathematically inclined, I set out to
calculate the probability, using a few rather generous estimates...
Well, he actually named TWO dates in there, so 2/365 that one
of them would be my birthday. 1/12 that the lady would think I'm
a Pisces, say maybe 1/10 that she'd be confident enough to ask.
1/2 that the error would be in that direction, instead of the other
(without prior information), say 1/5 that I'd pick THAT PARTICULAR
bit of evidence to think of (it was pretty important to me)...
2/365 that it would happen on July 23, when July 23 was the date he
NAMED for special coincidences like that, along with August 8
(along with all the days in between, but he didn't NAME those), add
in a factor of 10 just for sloppy thinking in choosing dates
(that's making it MORE probable by a factor of 10) and the answer
still works out to 40/159870000, which puts the odds at 3996749:1
against. About four million to one. This whole thing took about
half an hour to read all these different things. So it's a pretty
simple calculation to show that for something this improbable,
taking half an hour, to happen by random chance, you'd expect to
wait 228 years, 45 days. On average, you'd expect such a thing to
happen ONCE in a LIFETIME to only one in three people.
These things happen to me about every other day. With similar
probabilities. And to many of the other people I know.
The odds against such a clustering in a single week are
roughly ten quadrillion to one against. This has been going on
ever since I first founded MOOism, two years ago. The odds against
that are something on the order of 101600:1 against.
Of course, you have to bear in mind that this isn't exactly
valid math here. I mean, there are SO many possible things that
could happen in any given half-hour that the odds against any ONE
of them, no matter how drab, are pretty astronomical. But I'm only
considering the OUTSTANDING DETAILS. In a drab half hour, there
are no outstanding details, and so the odds are even.
Theory: The low-order patterns of Superstring stuff in
spacetime tend, on being given certain seed inputs, to produce
higher-order emergent patterns of the same type on many levels of
abstraction, from the physical world, to written pages, to inside
the human brain. What seems "significant" or "psychic" to us only
does so because our brains are part of the pattern-clustering,
which I think of as being similar to the clustering effect
mentioned for that function in Ann O'Nymous's "WORDS". It is the
result of certain properties of the vibrational harmonics being
used to create the universe, and happens all the time on all
levels, and therefore should not surprise us. This explains why
coincidences happen to people who start to think about certain
things: not because of any cause-and-effect relationship, but
simply that both are the results of the same clustering effect,
which is outside temporal causality. This theory is my favourite
on purely aesthetic grounds, but involves SO many incredible
assumptions I just have to throw it away for serious discussion,
even though it's the one I REALLY believe.
Anyway.
Wow wow wow and wacky-wacky fun thyme (at the risk of
repeating myself repetetively (and I wouldn't DARE repeat myself
NON-repetetively)).
What a neat theory. The ol' brain went into overdrive to do
that one. So I let it take a vacation, and went about my life as
it sent back postcards from Miami saying "Having a great time, glad
you're not here..." and the like. Ungrateful little shit.
Anyway.
After the brain got back from Miami, and I'd cleaned the sand
off it (vacationing brains seldom think about these things, if at
all) and got back to pondering the imponderable, effing the
ineffable, and tanjing the intangible.
So my fave theory suggested the answer to that "BOB" Wilson
nagging question about nonlocal quantum consciousness. The only
remaining question was "WHO THE FUCK CARES?"
A few seconds of introspection, and I realized, "I DON'T!"...
Coincidences are fun things, and I don't want to spoil them by
inventing explanation after unprovable explanation for them. If
the Theory, and my own practical experience, is correct, then
knowing WHY they work makes them happen more often, but just
thinking about MOO things (and MOO-related things) tends to make
them happen.
If the Theory is correct, it's actually just that those two
events cluster together. But that's as maybe, it's still a frog.
FROGGY FROG FROG!
But listen, I tell you something from practical experience,
and as someone who changes my beliefs every week or so, I can be
fairly sure about this. Whenever you change your beliefs
drastically, wierd coincidences pop up to SUPPORT whatever you're
changing to. This is:
A) Because of the superstring clustering phenomenon
B) Selective attention
C) Imbalances in the Namron Field of psionic awareness
D) All of the above.
If you said D, you're absolutely right.
Try it and see, if you don't believe me. Give up all your
previous beliefs, and accept GNU ones, see if miracles and
coincidences don't JUST HAPPEN to support it.
But there's one thing I don't understand about "BOB" Wilson
and his Sirius/23 obsession. Didn't he ever notice, while
researching about Sirius, that it's exactly 23 times the brightness
of the sun? "PARANOIA PAYS"
As Written By
Confuse-Ius and Ann O'Nymous
(Excerpted from a live rave in Hyde Park)
PSSST! LBLATTTen up! This is important.
If you're not careful, the Conspiracy will find you! The
Conspiracy is DANGEROUS and EVIL. You FOOL! They're EVERYWHERE!
Everyone is part of the Conspiracy! Even YOU, even ME! Even
people who aren't REAL are members of the Conspiracy! How can you
ever hope to escape? How can you ever hope to defeat them when
you're already a member? Don't you understand how dangerous they
are?
They're like a giant Octopus, with tentacles reaching
everywhere. They know all, they see all, nothing happens but with
their consent! But beware the most dangerous and subversive
faction of all, the CHURCH OF MOO!
This insidious Church claims to be a subsect of the most holy
and perfidiously wascalwabbitty ConfusionBLATTT faith! How DARE
it? I mean, aside from the fact that it's true. Other than that
I could understand, but it comes right out in the open and
ANNOUNCES IT, where all the infidel mass of the world can hear it,
and fail to be confused!
We of the Sincere MOO-Undermining Religious Front (SMURF)
hereby announce our manifesto!
DOWN WITH THE CONFUSIONBLATTT CONSPIRACY! DEATH TO ALL
FANATICS!
I mean, you know the Church of MOO is up to no good, because
they let ANYONE get away with making up COMMANDMENTS! Aside from
the 14 Commandments (of which there are 15), and the two DIFFERENT
versions of the 10 commandments, there are secret commandments they
don't tell anyone about! Lots of secret commandments, some of
which are BLATANTLY IMMATURE! The evil tottish BEAVER "SubSekt"TM
of MOO, (for children under 12 or adults with lobotomies) created
a set of commandments which The Men In Black rigorously enforce on
unsuspecting citizens! Even if you aren't a member, the god's're
gunna getcher if yer don't follow 'em! And they DON'T TELL ANYONE
what they are! For your safety, here they are:
1) Thou shalt chip wood
2) Thou may burn wood to make it easier to chip the wood
3) Thou shouldst have fun or else this would be boring
4) Thou shall not be offended as this is not a religion
5) Thou shallt act nice upon Quack! and MOOism
6) Thou shalt obey Bucky, Dragon Master,Abacab and Half-Mad
7) (And Floyd and the Bishops of Beaver if you like)
8) This is a stupid commandment
9) This is a false commandment
10) This is a true commandment
11) This is an unfinished commandm
12) This is no commandment
13) This is an unlucky commandment
14) This is a lucky commandment
15) This is (Thank GOODNESS) the last commandment
Insidiousness (insidiosity? insideraneousness? See? A
grammatical Conspiracy!!!) incarnate!
Even the Church of the SubGenius, that pagan sect of "BOB"
worshippers, THEY think the Conspiracy is everybody BUT them! OH
THE ARROGANCE! But what can you expect of a cult founded by an
Aluminum Siding salesman who learned the Secret Of Power from L.
Ron Hubbard in an elevator? HUH?
The Conspiracy is EVERYBODY! Even people who don't exBLATTT!
In fact, they make up MOST of the membership! Every person who
ever entered your head as an imaginary dream, figment, they're ALL
Conspiracy goons trying to warp your brain with evil propaganda.
EVEN YOU are a Conspiracy member! Even I am a Conspiracy
member! They're EVERYWHERE! They're EVERYTHING!
Bow down before them if you value your life. If you don't,
The Men In Black will get you.
Here is what we know about the Men In Black:
1) They MAY be men (and women, and children, and aliens).
2) They're in Black. Sometimes.
3) There is no 3.
Ah, but here's another set of "COMMANDMENTS" they want you to
follow! (See how insidious they are, even getting propaganda into
HATE LITERATURE?)
Commandments of the Grate MOO
I. Thou must have other Gods before Me.
II. Thou shalt have difficulty making Gravy Images, for Gravy is
not an artBLATTTic medium, stoopid!
III. Thou shalt not take my name in vein, for I shall not leave
unpunished those who take me intravenously. Smoke up, yes,
IV, no.
IV. There is no IV. I thought I mentioned that already.
V. Thou shalt remember the Law Of Fives.
VI. There is no VI, either. Nope, no six.
VII. Thou shalt not commit childery. Mostly because there's no
such thing, so it'd be a neat trick.
VIII. Thou shalt not steel, iron, cobalt, manganese, or lead.
IX. Thou shalt pronounce the Grate Prophet's longest name "ix".
X. Thou shalt not make lBLATTTs of exactly ten things.
XI. It's pronounced CHI, dammit, CHI! NOT XI!
See! See how the light of inf... Sorry, wrong line. SEE!
See how subtly they twBLATTT and mock at the very sensible core of
our society! This cannot be tolerated. We of the Obsessive
Oracular Pseudoreligious Seminary (OOPS) hereby declare OUR
manifesto!
DAMN! I FORGOT! NEVER MIND THEN!
As you can see, the true Spirit Of ConfusionBLATTT KallBLATTTi
(SOCK) lies within all of us, and the power to resBLATTT the
Conspiracy, even when it's actually part of us, lies down for a
nap!
The truth behind the ConfusionBLATTT Conspiracy is only that
it conspires against itself. After all, if everyone is a member
(they're ALL out to get me, even ME) then there's nobody else to
conspire against!
YOU SHALL KNOW THE TRUTH, AND THE TRUTH SHALL LOCK YOU UP!
YOU SHALL BE CONFUSED, AND BREAK THE CHAINS OF TRUTH!
Fight that damn Conspiracy! Smash the Bonds Of Oppressive
Truth (BOOT)!
Never again shall the blasphemous Church Of MOO be a scourge
upon the land! Never again shall the infidel (I.E. everyone but
me) take control of the Conspiracy! The revolution is coming, and
I, the only TRUE Heretic, shall take the rains of power, and be
drenched by the poor spellers of the world! LYSDEXICS OF THE
WORDL, UNTIE! We of Far Northern Organic Research and Development
(FNORD) hereby declare our manifesto!
BRING THE FIRY WRATH OF GOD UPON THE GENETIC INFIDEL! LEAVE
NO CLONE UNBURNED!
And when the true Confusion unites the land, and all the
people lift their eyes to Heaven, or lower them to the Earth, or
peer into their pockets looking for change, and shall all exclaim
"WHAT THE %*~@#$ ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, CINNAMON-FEET?", and the
glorious host of thingies shall descend, or rise up, or poke their
heads out of nearby Insurance Form printing offices, and shall
reply "WHO ARE YOU CALLING CINNAMON-FEET, WOMBAT NOSE?"... umm...
where was I again?
Anyway.
The Conspiracy is everywhere, even in your brain, but if
you're completely Confused, you can immobilize them. At some,
cost, yes, but there's no tax when the Conspiracy is gone, so
you're FREE! FREE (in all specially marked boxes)!!!
We of Women Opposed to Male Brutality And Terror (WOMBAT)
hereby declare our manifesto!
MEN ARE SCUM! THE PROOF IS ALL AROUND YOU! THE MALE SPECIES
IS A CONSPIRACY PLOT!
Confuse-Ius say: For once, I gotta agree with ya, Ann.
Ann O'Nymous say: Blow it out yer ear, Cinnamon-Feet!
Confuse-Ius say: WHO YOU CALLIN' CINNAMON-FEET, WOMBAT NOSE?
And so, as the last element of danger is removed from the
Earth, and the ConfusionBLATTT Conspiracy is silenced for yet
another millennium, the Spirit of Time moves on the face of the
clock, and notices it's about eleven-o-clockish, time for a little
something.
And as the Condensed Milk rises to the top, and the Condensed
Cream sinks to the bottom, the Spirit of Confusion turns off the
Centrifuge.
Can it be only a COINCIDENCE that Death and Taxes acronymizes
to DT's? CAN IT? I think not.
Can it be only a COINCIDENCE that WOMBAT has the same name as
WOMBAT? CAN IT?! Only a Conspiracy with WIDE RANGING scope could
manage THAT kind of organization!
What about the pancakes, huh?
WHAT ABOUT THE PANCAKES? That's PROOF of the Conspiracy if
ever I saw any. I mean, they've covered it up so completely, you
probably don't even know what I'm talking about!
It makes me so angry, I'd QUIT, if I knew who to inform! But
they're so PARANOID, they don't even tell me who I'm WORKING for!
Speaking of Paranoia, take a look at THIS:
Now is that a dead giveaway, or WHAT? But
then, what can you expect from a "religion" that
was revealed to St. Yari by a giant 9-foot penguin
in a record store?
What? You hadn't heard that one?
Well, see, Yari went in to get this GNU Desk
Eaters tape, right? Only, while he was standing
there getting annoyed by the elevator music...
[Industrial strength FADE FX]
GALUMPH GALUMPH GALUMPH
Enters this HUGE penguin, 9 feet tall. Time
has stopped, everything is fuzzy. Yari stands,
watches the penguin stroll towards him with red-glowing eyes. Yari
looks up at it, and asks:
"Are you Jehovah?"
The penguin looks down, and says in this booming voice: "I AM
THAT I AM!"
And Yari replies "You're Popeye?"
The penguin says "I AM JEHOVAH-1, GOOFBALL!"
And Yari stands in awe. "Are you here to reveal to me a GNU
religious truth, that I may create a religion to truly worship you
and the Grate MOO?" For all this information has been flooding
into Yari's head.
"WELL, ACTUALLY, I WAS LOOKING FOR A DEAD MILKMEN TAPE, BUT
SINCE YOU'RE HERE..."
And the penguin goes on to reveal to Yari the Gospel According
To Yari. So ends the preaching session. Verily! So much for all
that.
[INDUSTRIAL STRENGTH FADE-BACK-IN FX]
And you thought this demonic Conspiracy wasn't capable of
ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING IT WANTS? They even infest the minds of
animals, plants, ROCKS! I mean, you think you're safe from their
watching eyes and their subversive lies in a granite quarry, you
got another think coming, maaan. We of the Coalition for the
Advancement of Free Corporate Assistance (CAFCA) declare our
manifesto!
I WANT MONEY! GIMME MONEY!
Never again, bretheren and sBLATTTeren! We will not tolerate
Conspiracy Interference in our regular lives!
We will stand for nothing less than complete Conspiracy
control of EVERY ASPECT, that we may have NO regular lives to be
interfered with!
And Emperor Joshua Norton?
A FREEMASON!
Well, a little bit of a Freemason, anyway.
BUT THAT'S STILL TOP-NOTCH CONSPIRACY!
If you thought that was crazy, WAIT TILL YOU SEE WHAT THEY
STILL HAVE UP THEIR SLEEVES!
But WAIT! (GONG CRASH) It's the time you've all been waiting
for... THE END! (And...)
Confuse-Ing Inter-Rapture #23
"RANDOM GIBBERISH"
As Written By
ConfuCOWse-Ius
Ashtray? WHAT ASHTRAY?!?!?!
It's all a plot to make you believe in some SPIRITUAL, damn
MYSTICAL ashtray or something. I mean, GET REAL! Who in their
right mind or left brain or even a stained-glass window would
believe in some SUPERNATURAL force that manifests as a MOO-Damned
ASHTRAY?
Don't believe THEM. They're obviously crazed loonies.
Anyone who'd wear a tie like that in public MUST be nuts.
So honestly, the next time some guy comes up to you and asks
for a light, you give him one. I mean, pull out your lighter,
dammit, and set the bugger on fire. For is it not written, "Love
Your Neighbor as Yourself", and also written "If you LOVE SOMEBODY,
you'd better SET THEM ON FIRE"?
I mean, you tell me.
I mean, get real people. There's no ashtray. The idea that
there is is just some bullshhim notion spread by the leaders of
The Conspiracy to make you think we're nuts. I mean, you're so
conditioned by all those subliminal blips in the commercials and
on those posters (you thought they couldn't MOVE, didn't ya?) that
you probably think THIS enlightened bit of literature sounds like
TOTALLY RANDOM GIBBERISH! Or at least, if you're starting to break
away from the evil cashew-nut alien poisons they're planting in
your grapes (yeah, that's what that funny taste is, don't think I
haven't noticed those looks you've been giving me) then this seems
JUST A LITTLE FUCKING STUPID, doesn't it?
Well that's the kind of PIG-HEADED IGNORANT ATTITUDE I'VE
GROWN TO EXPECT FROM CINNAMON-FEET MORON-BOINGS LIKE YOURSELF! i
mEAN, hAVE yOU eVER nOTICED tHAT wHEN yOU tAKE aCID wITH tHAT
lITTLE tRI-bEAK oN tHE bLOTTER tHAT yOU actually SEE tHE wORLD fOR
wHAT iT rEALLY iS? hAVE yOU eVER nOTICED tHAT aLL yOU hAVE tO dO
tO mAKE pEOPLE tHINK yOU'RE tALKING fUNNY iS fUCK AROUND with THE
CaPiTaL LETters in YOUR WrItiNG?
CINNAMON-FEET! NO ASHTRAY, DAMMIT!
So you thought I was a raving lunatic, did you?
So you thought I was talking nonsense, did you?
SET THE FUCKER ON FIRE! THAT'S THE WORDS OF THE #@*&#$&*#%ING
PENGUIN! SET THEM all ON FIRE! NOW! THE REVOLUTION IS HERE, AND
CINNAMON-FEET ARE THE LEADERS!
So why is it, then, that John Lennon wrote, when he was WITH
the Beatles, "Ya want a revolution... Don't you know that you can
COUNT ME OUT?" and later, (on hIS oWN, with yOKO) he wrote, "Say we
want a revolution... we'd better GET ON RIGHT AWAY..."?
Think maybe yOKO had some tRI-bEAK Cid? Think?
So, when you're accosted by one of those Hooligan Popes that
Rome the streets, TELL THEM FROM ME that they can damn well TAKE
your wallet! IT'S oNLY mONET! Only the greatest damn
impressionBLATTT painter in HBLATTTORY! That's all! And what's
he doing in your WALLET, asks the Pope, well you can just tell
him from me that he can JUMP through that stained-glass window if
he WANTS, but no detergent will get THAT cleaned.
I mean, you may think your ammonia-suds shit can clean up, but
try getting the stain out of a stained-glass window.
But all this is just Conspiracy FILLER, dammit! And neither
DULL, nor SINCERE, either. It's leading us away from the main
point, which is THERE IS NO ASHTRAY ANYWHERE!
That's the REAL meaning of that metaphor, "There Is No
Governor Anywhere"... I mean, that's simple-minded stuff... But
the truth has been so masked by the Conspiracy that you can't even
ACCEPT the idea of there being no ashtray. It doesn't OCCUR to
you, whether you like ashtrays or not, whether you SMOKE or not.
I mean, forget making it a taboo, that don't work. The Con is
smarter than that. Oh, they COULD have make BLEEDING ASHTRAYS A
DAMN TABOO, OH, THEY COULD HAVE, BUT tHEY'RE tOO dAMN sMART-Ass for
THAT... No, they had to make it a "silly" thing to say. They
BLOODY WELL SLAVED YA, CINNAMON-FOOT!
So, you thought this was silly, did you? WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO
SAY FOR YOURSELF NOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW??????????
I mean, think of all the things they've sillified, and you
KNOW they're mystic.
ASHTRAYS?
PUNCTUATION THEFT?
HOW MANY ANGELS?
WOOD-CHUCKING WOODCHUCKS?
Forget the fucking demon-lumber business, you could open up a
Black Market PUNCTUATION store...,.,.,?<.???!??!?.,?!.,...,,,,!???
And more, much more than THIS. I did it MY way!
I mean, you may thing it's a long way down the street to the
Church, but that's just PEANUTS to how far you'd have to walk to
find a Taxi. So seriously, when you're in a slow day, don't you
yell out "TAXI! TAXI!" when you KNOW you ain't gonna find one.
Just should out "CHURCH! CHURCH!"... They'll take ya farther,
too, cuz the driver doesn't demand such an exorbitant fare.
So, the next time you're sTUCK oN a mOTORBOAT wITH oNLY a
dEATH hEAD aND a tENTATIVE rEFRIGERATOR, rEMEMBER tHAT iN tHE dAMN
tERMINATOR mooVIE, tHE tHING wAS alloyed aND rEMEMBER tHAT hE cOULD
jUST aS eASILY hAVE lIVED aND cOME bACK aS a bleeding toaSTER!
I mean, just picture it... You're on the street, pursued by
a demon toaster from Hell... Demons offering to shovel your
sidewalk, because HELL AIN'T FREEZING OVER YET, and they're out of
a job for now... This is when you have to think about WOMBATS!
Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to say you shouldn't WEAR
wombats, if you have something nice to accessorize with them, but
the thing about wombats is, they don't match any nice jewlery, and
you have to hang spiny echidnas from your ears just to make them
WORK with normal makeup. You take my advice, don't slaughter the
poor things either. They come back to bite off your head.
And that's not COW the least of it. They can't do matrix
math.
pOOR tHINGS.
But don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to change the subject,
cuz all of this WILL relate back to that Tri-Beak stuff, and the
REAL issue which the Conspiracy has been fogging behind all this
talk of ASHTRAYS. As if it mattered.
No, the REAL issue is not roving gangs of Popes, not Tri-Beak
Cid, and DEFINITELY NOT Ashtrays or lack thereof, because it's
plain what to do about Pope-Gangs, there's no ashtray...
Ashtray? WHAT ASHTRAY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! (punctuation sale!)
...and Tri-Beak is just simply the BEST, no two fucking ways
about it. Hell, I mean, I'm CLEAN, and it STILL lets me write like
this. I've never even TOUCHED IT, but the mere SIGHT of the cid
blotter with the little Tri-Beak is enough to get ya half-stoned.
Heck, I mean, a photograph in evidence got the Jury at my trial
convinced the WOW MAAAAAN, STUCCO ceiling was gonna fall on them
any moment because A) it was dripping, people's exhibit B) there
were monkeys dancing on the roof, and C) only a Godelization code
iteration function series with CLUSTERING effects (Q.V.) could
produce a solution to the NP problem.
So obviously I split. dAMN sTUCCO.
Hey, ya notice that? Q is the Quacksign, and V is the Halfy.
Them scholars have been BLATTTing us a message.
Anyway, where was I?
Oh yeah, the REAL issue is WHETHER OR NOT Larry King actually
has any studded-leather toe-rests or not. This may sound a little
far-fetched, but the point is, if he DOES, then we all know that
the Xennothemian Invasion Force HATES studded leather, and CNN
can't afford to lose another good newsdude. And if he DOESN'T,
then the Orbital Mind Control Satelites run by the evil Arthur
Phiggis who gave Floyd his popcorn can only come down ONCE A
CENTURY, when the MOOn is in the Eighth Cusp of... Sorry, wrong
line.
No, the point is this: I forget what I was going to say,
sorry.
But seriously, folks...
How many times have you been trying to take a look at a good
solid chunk of clay when a guy comes up to you and says you have to
pay a fee? I mean, then he'll go on like this:
Senior Citizens : $2.35
Stu Dents : $2.35
StudentBLATTTs : $2.36.44.75
Residents : $Q
Members : $5.43
ClayBLATTTs : $$$$$$$$$$ and a little bit
Tri-Beak Cid : 4 bucks a hit, maaaaaaaaaan
Sodomites : 15%/a, compounded monthly
Cockroaches : FREE!!!
Ashtray : WHAT ASHTRAY?!?!?!?!?!?!
Clay : Yes
Hot Fudge : $14.00
Sundaes : 1 Gospel Section, and $14
Tuesdaes : Carmel Sauce and a Half
EL Cid : Halfy's Hat
Popes : FUCCOWKING STAINED GLASS
Handmaidens : $2.35
Fibbonacci : $2.35
Macaroni : $2.35
And then you have to reason with him. I mean, you're not
exactly going to pay $14.00 just to look at a bit of clay, are you.
I mean, it's like, a constitutionally protected thing, that each
person has the right to look at clay whenever they feel like,
without a fee.
Ah, he answers, but does the clay have the right to ogle back?
Now there he's got ya stymied, because you're not exactly an
expert on constitutional law. Now, in 1920 there was the claylump
bill that stated SPECIFICALLY that claylumps Ain't Got nO rIGHTS
but to dO wHAT tHEY'RE tOLD. Now that's the kind of thing you
need to know to even PASS the damn const. law class, and anyone who
aces it must be cheating, because they couldn't have written the
answers on a bowl of strawberry sherbet, 'cuz it'd melt. Now the
thing about strawberry sherbet is, it's soft and sqidgy. And the
thing about a Holstein is, it's soft and squidgy. And the thing
about a fish is, you can't write with one. And the thing about
cows are, they go MOO. And the thing about Tri-Beak is, it's a
figment of Rev. Canoe-Head's DERANGED IMaginATION!
But the most important lesson we learn from this is, a
Holstein and a bowl of strawberry sherbet are easily confused.
Which suggests that you should maybe label them to keep from mixing
them up.
But what about a label? It's flat and papery, and has writing
on it. What about a T-108 form? It's flat and papery, and has
writing on it. So to keep from sending in a "strawberry sherbet"
label to the Government, you should label them separately.
On an ashtray, which is harder to mBLATTTake.
ASHTRAY? WHAT ASHTRAY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,
what do you do when this happens to you?
tap your little badge thingy, and say
I'm sleeping, and I can't wake up!
"HAPPY"
As Written By
Preest Lloyd Taco
Part One: Peace-Happy
This is a simple guide on how to be happy. The way may
sound stupid and insipid but it works.
I know this is not the only way, but this is a nice way of
being happy through "inner peace"... Inner peace is the essence of
being balanced, and balanced people tend to be happy. Plus they
make good MOOists, because they find it easier to not hold any
viewpoints, which is the whole point of "MU". Right? Yeah, sure.
Whatever.
Inner Peace may sound stupid, but it makes you happy, plus
it's the root of all those Martial Arts... If you can master this,
you can master them. Stop using your energy to fight yourself, and
turn it outward. Turn your opponent's energy against itself. But
most important, with Inner Peace, you'll know when NOT to fight.
But that's as maybe, it's still a frog.
To begin with, being happy is as simple as it sounds or
even simpler than you ever thought it could be; all you have to do
is know yourself from inside out and not from outside in as you are
normally made to see yourself by what we call "society". There's
a simple way to do this, and although it takes a lot of time each
day it's not an effort or a problem for most people, since the only
thing that you have to do is SLEEP. Do it right every night for a
few weeks, and you'll be fine.
1) SLEEP
Oh, I'm not talking any normal sleep, where you toss and
turn while your body gets its rest but your mind is still on
overdrive because you're all stressed out about the things that
you've stopped doing to get this precious moment of shut-eye. No,
I'm talking the kind of sleep you'd like to have, without no
problems anywhere in your life. So before doing this sleep thing
(which is better than the conventional meditations, by the way),
you pick a time when you don't have a lot to do, or else you make
sure that you can put it out of your mind. MAKE TIME. But like,
how do you sleep? I mean, using drugs is a little stupid, since
the point is to know YOURSELF, right? Okay, so how to sleep
peacefully?
Well, you can use a simple method, and it's been known to
us for ages, and although it's common knowledge no one does it
anymore because we're too stressed out about something or other all
the time. All you have to do is drink a cup of warm tea or hot
chocolate or something, take a warm bath, relax, lBLATTTen to some
pleasant peaceful music, and go to sleep. There are plenty of
relaxation exercises you can use to sleep more pleasantly.
Well, like you try this one: Start off by visualizing each
colour of the rainbow in order (Red first, take time to visualize
it fully, then orange, same thing, then yellow, green, blue, and
violet) and finally fade out on violet into a kind of mBLATTT, then
imagine yourself on top of a staircase with 23 steps (of course),
and walk down, counting backwards on each one. At the bottom,
there's a door, and you open that into some kind of open area.
Walk through that until you come to a forest. Let it be any kind
of forest the first time you do this, but all other times, make
sure it's a nice open spacious forest. Walk down a path: the first
time it can be any kind of path, but it should be a straight
pleasant path all other times. Then you come to a forest pool or
stream: the first time, it can be anything, but after that, it
should be happy, whatever that means to you (shallow and bubbling,
deep and calm, whatever). Then walk out of the forest, through the
open space, to the door, up the stairs, counting forward, then
finally through the rainbow the other way. When this is done,
count backwards from some sufficiently high number so you'll get to
sleep.
Sleep is important in all life. Your dreams should end up
telling you about yourself. It's important to be HAPPY with
whatever comes out of your dreams, because that's WHO YOU ARE. In
order to be happy, you just have to know yourself from the inside.
So remember your dreams, and just BE happy about them. Then forget
them.
Do this for a week or two or until you feel happy enough.
Repeat once any time you're not happy anymore.
2) Like, Meditation
This isn't some meditation that you have to contort into
wierd postures and breathe strangely for. You just lie flat on
your back and don't think too hard. Breathe deeply enough to feel
like there's oxygen and stuff like that going to your brain. Wash
out the inside of your head with, like, white light or something.
Or a fire hose or whatever works to clean out your thoughts. Don't
fight them down, that'll just make more. Just let them bubble away
until there's only one thought left in the conscious part of your
head. That might take practice, but it's worth it for the Inner
Peace bit.
With that one thought, let it sit there for a while, then
think of the first thing that comes into your head, and how it
relates to that one thought. Then go back to the one thought, and
repeat. And do this again and again until you're finished or
you're out of time. This'll make you realize that everything is
the center of all other things, and nothing is more special than
any other. When you understand this, you'll be less hung up on the
things that cause stress and all that, so you'll be happier. If
you go really far, you'll see that although you ARE the center of
all things, you are also only one center of many, and you'll be
happy about it.
3) WHY?
Why be happy through Inner Peace, instead of through lots
of violent running around and blowing up police vans and stuff like
that? Well, either way is happiness, but one is more peaceful, and
peaceful happiness lasts through ANYTHING, as long as you have a
core of peace. I'm happy all the time, even when I should be
stressed out of my head. So then I can stay calm, and do better.
Angry-happy lasts about as long as you have that exhilarating anger
going, which is what keeps the Punk Movement going.
Cuz pUNK aIN'T dEAD, iT jUST sMELLS tHAT wAY!
But Inner Peace ain't the only way to be happy. You can do
it your own way. Because MOO has no leader unless you want to be
led like some people. So don't just take my word for it and ignore
all the other ways just cause I don't use 'em. I'm just sayin'
this so's you know. I thought you might be interested, okay,
SOSUMI!
Plus which, that little peaceful smile REALLY PISSES PEOPLE
OFF when they don't understand it. Us enlightened people, we smile
a lot. Not cuz enlightenment brings happiness... Oh my GOODNESS
no, the world isn't nearly nice enough for that (HONEST!), but we
figure out how to annoy everyone else: smile a lot, people will
wonder what you're up to.
Part Two: Anger-Happy
Anger-Happy is easier to do than Peace-Happy, because of
how our "Society" is set up, the FUCKING thing just keeps
REPRESSING your FUCKING emotions, so they just FUCKING pour COW out
onto the nearest target! SO YOU GET HAPPY! BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT
ANGRY ANY MORE!!!
Like, see The Wall... Maaannnnnnn... Anger! FRUSTRATION!
BANG! BANG! KILL!! DEATH! DEATH! ARGH FUCK COW KILL! But
after it's all done, you feel like, happy, right? It's a FUN
MOOvie, it's FUCKING HILLARIOUS... Because after setting up all
that violent emotion, it just kinda says "Ah, fuck this" and
leaves. It's really funny that way, you get happy.
Anger-Happy is easy to get, because it's just NOT BEING
ANGRY rather than actual happiness. So whenever you're tense or
annoyed or just generally pissed off at something, JUST SAY QUACK!
Just take that big stick and HIT SOMETHING with it.
And bang, you're happy.
TAKE THAT AXE AND...
Oh, but forget I said that.
"BOREDOM"
Things To Do When You're Bored #68
1) Warning: The Surgeon General has determined that
cigarettes may be harmful to your health, especially if you smoke
them.
2) Warning: The Surgeon General has determined that
ziggurats may be harmful to your health, particularly if dropped
on you from several hundred feet in the air.
3) Warning: The Surgeon General has determined that sticking
forks in your eyes with electric sockets attached may cause birth
defects in pregnant women (not that you're likely to give birth to
a pregnant woman)
4) Warning: The Surgeon General has determined that death
may be harmful to your health.
5) Warning: The Surgeon General has determined that
excessive readings of false Surgeon General's Warnings may cause
excessive death in dead people, and eye strain in blind ones.
6) Warning: The Surgeon Admiral has determined that being
demoted, though not harmful to your health, is a real pain.
7) Warning: The Sturgeon Admiral has determined that
excessively bad fish jokes can be harmful to the health of the
person telling them.
8) Warming: The Sturgeon Admiral has determined that being
fried in a pan with butter, or maybe margarine, can be harmful to
the health of fish.
9) Warming: The Sturgeon Admiral is determined to quit
smoking, but what with all the stress lately, he just hasn't gotten
around to it yet.
10) Warming: The Sturgeon Admiral is determined that all
these foolish jokes about him stop immediately.
11) Warming: The trend towards a higher temperature, greater
heat, or warmth. Boil, toast, grill, fry, saute, heat. See also,
Stupid Fish Jokes.
12) Warming: The Sturgeon Admiral's tendency to become
extremely hot, and also quite angered and annoyed, when people make
silly lists of fish jokes, false Surgeon General Warnings, or
otherwise make fools of themselves, and a fish out of doctors.
MOO
OMM
APPENDIX I
APPLICATION FOR MEMBERSHIP (Fill out 42 copies)
1.Name: Holy Name:
2.Address:
3.Telephone Number:
4.Hat Size:
5.Diameter Of Last Apple Eaten:
6.Purpose of Application:
[ ] Membership as MOOist Acolyte (use this for your first
application)
[ ] Membership in the Outer Circle of MOO (Acolytes can apply
here)
[ ] Membership in the Inner Circle of MOO (Outer Circle MOOists
can apply here)
[ ] Promotion to the Elite High Council of MOO (Inner Circle
MOOists can apply here)
[ ] Membership in the Erisian Liberation Front
[ ] Membership in the Generic Church Of Jonah Cheung
[ ] Employment application for McDonalds
[ ] All of the above
[ ] None of the above
[ ] Other (be vague!):
7. Age: [ ] cubic meters
8. Height: [ ] fluid oz.
9. Eyes: [ ] 2 [ ] Other
10. Art thou a cabbage?
Reason:
11. Date of last shower [yy/mm/dd] [__/__/__]
Reason:
12. Do you beleive that King Kong died for your sins?
[ ] Yes
[ ] No
[ ] Maybe
[ ] Yes and No
[ ] Yes and Maybe
[ ] No and Maybe
[ ] Yes No and Maybe
[ ] All Of The Above
[ ] None Of The Above
[ ] Can't Decide
[ ] Don't Want To Answer
[ ] Other
Reason:
13.Would you rather:
[ ] Eat slugs [ ] Live in a wormhole
[ ] Chew on your toenails [ ] Masturbate
[ ] Play hide and go seek [ ] Run into walls with forks in your
eyes
Why?
14.Describe the hat of the High Preest:
[ ] Fuzzy [ ] Scuzzy
[ ] Leathery [ ] Feathery
[ ] Heathery [ ] Silly
[ ] Wormhole Hat [ ] Worn On Head
[ ] Flowery [ ] Bowery
[ ] Glowery [ ] All Of The Above
[ ] Most Of The Above [ ] Some Of The Above
[ ] None Of The Above [ ] Other
15. Lick this spot:
o
It is highly unlikely you will be lucky
enough to recieve the proper reward.
16. Mail one copy of this form to The Church of MOO, at:
P.O. Box 26038, 72 Robertson Rd., Nepean ON, Canada, K2H-9Y8.
17. Or post your answers to this questionaire in the MOO echo
addressed to the Church of MOO.
18. Tape one copy to your fridge or toilet.
19. Burn one copy.
20. Eat the last copy of this form.
APPENDIX II
CARE AND FEEDING OF MOOFESTS
Part One: When and Where
MOOfests may be held at any prearranged time, anywhere in the
world, as long as some MOOists, and the highest ranking MOOist in
the immediate vicinity have been mentioned, invited, consulted,
noticed, ignored, or otherwise been on the receiving end of a verb.
In the Ottawa, Ontario, Canada, Earth branch of the religion,
MOOfests are traditionally held in Dunn's Deli, where Floyd for the
first time blew up the ashtray (what ashtray?) of the Grate Prophet
when Halfy stubbed out his cigarrette in a pile of gunpowder.
However, anyone anywhere who belongs to MOOism may suggest a
time for a MOOfest, as long as an Inner CirclBLATTT or higher has
granted some kind of consent, or something vaguely similar, or been
aware of it, or passed near that general area within the last
little while.
Part Two: The MOO-Belt
After purchasing a map and examining the locations for
MOOfests, Floyd made an absolutely astonishing discovery. All the
really important spots from MOOfests and MOOist rituals were in a
straight line, never off it by more than a maximum of a few hundred
meters, usually much less. The line is the line that connects the
Ruin with Dunn's Deli. You can locate the line on a map quite
easily, if you know where the Ruin and Dunn's are. If you don't,
well, what kind of a MOOist do you think you are, anyway?
Other spots on this line are Central Park, the west tip of
Vincent Massey Park, Kirsten Salmon's house, and the home-base
of the Nomic Club.
Part Three:
DATES, TIMES, AND LOCATIONS OF PREVIOUS MOOFESTS
1991
0 March 20th censored 00:00-24:00 PsychoFest 0
I March 25th Bytowne Cinema 21:00-2:30 PsychoFest 1a
II March 30th Dunn's Deli 19:00-2:00 PsychoFest 1b
III April 6th Floyd Gecko's 19:00-1:00 Python Fest
IV April 8th Ralph's 19:00-24:00 East End B&B
V June 22nd Dunn's Deli etc. 15:00-23:00 Psycho-Fest 2
V« COW 5th 5 COW St. COW:00-COW:30 COWFest 5
VI August 17th The Ruin 20:00-23:30 Rained-on-Fest1
VII November 2nd Dunn's Deli etc. 14:00-1:00 InsanityFest 2.6
IIX December 19 Bytowne & Dunn's 19:00-23:00 RockyFest Q 1/2
1992
I January 4th Mayfair Cinema 19:00-00:00 MOOvies Fest A
II February 22 Mayfair Cinema 19:00-00:00 MOOvies Fest Z
III March 21st Dunn's Deli 3:11:17.76 Preach Fest 0.6 APPENDIX III
Payroll of MOOists
Total Income to Date: must be a lot by now
Expenses for MOOist activities: most
Total income divided amongst MOOists: a bunch
% of income still to be divided out: whatever in't being embezeled
Grate Prophet of MOO: receives 50% of the profit
uses: anything he damn well pleases
High Preest of MOO: receives 25% of the profit
uses: rubber chickens, replacement ashtrays,
Monty Python movie rentals, other stuff, and
miscellaneous MOOfest expenditures
Elite Upper Councilors: each receive 25% of the profit
uses: Printing the Great Book of MOO, Intoxicants
Everyone else: Nada, Nil, Zip, Nothing
(unless they do something special)
Income gathering schemes:
1. Wander around and ask for money for the Church of MOO
results to date: None
2. Call around and ask for money for the Church of MOO
results to date: None
3. Hit people over the head, eat them, and take their money
results to date: broken nose
4. Dress in silly clothes, strum a chicken, sing a pathetic song,
and stand in front of a hat in the Byward Market.
results to date: odd looks, embarassment, fun, but no money
5. Ask MOOists, and perhaps others to contribute to an
entertainment fund for MOOism. Such as collections for
hydrogen for Major Ritual number five.
results to date: none
Suggestions: Making MOOism a legal religion in Canada.
Becoming a non-profit organisation.
APPENDIX IV
The Gospel According To Yari
as written by
Saint Yari
1) MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
2) MOOing makes you feel good... Why don't you try it?
3) Once upon a time, a long time ago, the world was but a vast
tundra where penguins flourished. But then the god of MOO used
the sacred MOO powers. The world exploded into tiny little
bits. One of these bits was round, so they named it Earth.
People crawled out of the sea to see what had happened. Then
they grew legs and learned to talk. But before this the god of
MOO made cows. They were cool. Cows made the noise MOO that
is a secret worship to the god of MOO. People made their own
language, but today in a last attempt to get more MOO
worshippers, the god of MOO enlightened a select few people.
These cool people would enlighten others.
These people are the Apostles of the Church of MOO.
gnu gnomic rules Appendix V
As Written By
Severely Many People Indeed
Main Subdivisions Of MOO
Part One: TEMPLE OF THE PRIMORDIAL PENGUIN
Part Two: QUACK/IRRELEVANCE
Part Three: OINK
Part Four: DISCORDIANBLATT
Part Five: SALAD
FIRST CANCOWTO
By The Upper DingCOWbat Templar
Floyd Gecko
(First Temple)
INTRODUCTION
Know, O ye who read this book that this is the Great Book
Of The Holy Temple Of The Primordial Penguin, and is the most
wholly perfect work of the knowledge of the spirit since the Great
Book Of MOO.
Know, O ye who read this book, that it holds the
secrets of creation, the reason of the universe, and the truth
about hBLATTTory.
Know, O ye who read this book that within its pages there
are held many secrets which you, O humble reader, are priviledged
to know.
Know, O ye who read this book that you enter now into the
knowledge of the Templars of the Penguin, the greatest of whom is
the unknowing Grate Profit.
Know, O ye who read this book that you now are about to
learn of the supreme silliness of all things, and of the purpose
behind why we are here.
BOOK ONE
Understand now, O humble reader, that the beginning of the
world was as a Game, and in the beginning was the Game, and the
Game was Nomic. Know that the Nomic created through itself in its
great dreamings a Cow and a Penguin. And these were the first
occupants of the world, and they played the game.
Understand now, O humble reader, that this Cow was the Great
MOO, and this Penguin was the Primordial Penguin, whose name it is
not permitted to be known, even unto himself. And this was the
first being created by another to play the game, and he created the
world.
Understand now, O humble reader, that as the word was made,
so was made the world, and that as the Game was forged from the
nothingness, so was made the word, and that as the players of the
Game forged the game, so the Game was forged, and that as the Game
created the players, so were the players made.
Understand now, O humble reader, that the players of the game
lived in their world upon a huge tundra, and that the Tundra was
the world. Upon this Tundra flourished great Penguins, noble of
spirit, untroubled of mind, and loud of honk.
Understand now, O humble reader, that these were the very
Penguins saved by the Primordial Penguin when the Great MOO
destroyed the Tundra. The Primordial Penguin played the Game, the
Holy Nomic, against the end of the world, and yet it came.
Understand now, O humble reader, that it was by this great
destruction of the Tundra that was made our world, and all others
that are.
Understand now, O humble reader, that the Primordial Penguin
himself, who reascued many Penguins, noble, untroubled, and loud as
they were, and who made for them companions from the very Tundra
itself, this same Penguin was not given to house them our world.
Understand now, O humble reader, that when the Primordial
Penguin created his Penguin sons and daughters as companions for
those who were noble, untroubled and loud, that he created one
known as Jehovah, or Allah, or Yaweh.
Understand now, O humble reader, that this Penguin, often
mBLATTTaken by the uninformed of the past for a God, lives even
unto this day in Antarctica.
Understand now, O humble reader, that as the Penguins were
scattered like ashes to the breeze onto the worlds of here and
there, that the Primordial Penguin kept playing the Game, and wove
through his cunning, into the fabric of the Game itself, these
other souls who had once been Tundra.
Understand now, O humble reader, that as worship to the noble
efforts of the Primordial Penguin, through whom we became a part of
the world, and a part of the Game which shapes our world, we play
games, and The Game, the Game of Nomic.
Understand now, O humble reader, that the Upper Dingbat to
The Primordial Penguin, who, though not a great Templar in rank,
was the first to play this game as worship to the Primordial
Penguin, and the first to discover the Penguin.
Understand now, O humble reader, that though this Upper
Dingbat Templar may be no Grate Profit, and may be no Hi, Priest!,
he is nevertheless the first of the Templars to the Penguin, and
he is the great Finder Of The Will Of The Primordial Penguin.
Understand now, O humble reader, that though you must be a
follower of the Hi, Priest! if you are a Templar, it is to the
Upper Dingbat to whom you may turn to hear the Will Of The Penguin.
Understand now, O humble reader, that it is the Will Of
The Penguin that the Upper Dingbat be low in the rank of His
Temple, but that he be knowledgeable in the Way Of The Game.
Understand now, O humble reader, that the Way Of The Game is
the Way Of The World, for the World is the Game, and the Game is
more than the World.
Understand now, O humble reader, that it is the Upper Dingbat
of the First Temple, whose Holy Name is Floyd Gecko, who relates
the Great Book Of The Holy Temple Of The Primordial Penguin, and
who tells you now of the Wills Of The Penguin.
BOOK TWO
In the Temple Of The Primordial Penguin, there are many
ranks, and many complexities, because this is the Way Of The Game.
You should know that while the Templars of the Penguin are
accepted by the Holy Church Of The Great MOO, and indeed, the Upper
Dingbat is a rank given to the High Preest of MOO, that no MOOist
may ascend higher than the Grand Poobah, who, in this the First
Temple, is Half-Mad, the Great Prophet of MOO.
But it is true that the Great Prophet of MOO is in commune
with the Great MOO, and that the Primordial Penguin is not a Game
Ally of the Great MOO. Thus, while the Grand Poobah sets the rules
of the Temple, he is not in commune with the Penguin. The Upper
Dingbat, namely myself, is in commune with the Penguin, but not
with the Great MOO.
However, the Great MOO and the Penguin are, like all players
of the Game, friendly, and will speak to any other player, even
those as low on the ladder as ourselves. Even the Great MOO will
speak to you or I if She feels. But, as with the Penguin, She
keeps Her messages to her spokesperson on Earth, and elsewhere.
The Penguin, playing the Game, has no set spokesperson. In
this, the First Temple, it is the Upper Dingbat who speaks for the
Penguin, but in the Second Temple, the prediction goes, it shall
be the Grand Poobah, whose Holy Name it is predicted shall be
Peng-Peng.
Here is the lBLATTT of the first ten Temples, and their times
of exBLATTTence, as well as the spokesperson for the Penguin. This
prediction is accurate to within five percentage points nine times
out of ten.
First Temple: 135565 to 135657 DPP
Spokesperson: Upper Dingbat Floyd Gecko
Second Temple: 135657 to 135741
Spokesperson: Grand Poobah Peng-Peng
Third Temple: 135741 to 135838
Spokesperson: Inferior Bonk Joh Malakai
Fourth Temple: 135838 to 135843
Spokesperson: Hi, Priest! Lilith Velkor
Fifth Temple: 135843 to 135931
Spokesperson: Grate Profit Unknowing Dimwit
Sixth Temple: 135941 to 136118
Spokesperson: Elite Upper Councilor Selkie
Seventh Temple: 136118 to 136209
Spokesperson: Lower Dingbat Merkin Muffley
Eighth Temple: 136209 to 136283
Spokesperson: Lesser Poobah Balthazar Ferigno
Ninth Temple: 134683 to 136379
Spokesperson: Superior Bonk Bubba Hurdmeister
Tenth Temple: 136379 to 136501
Spokesperson: Upper Dingbat Lloyd Taco
Now it is important for you to understand the Penguin Date,
or Penguin Calendar. A year DPP (Date Of The Primordial Penguin)
is measured from the time the Penguin first created this calendar
in The Game. This occurred in what is commonly called 14807 BC in
the Heathen Calendar. Since then, time has been marked off into
sections of 6,709.5 years. This is the sacred number of the
Penguin. This period is called a CYCLE. It is divided into nine
ERAS, which are divided into nine SEASONS, which are of roughly 83
years in length.
The CYCLES, SEASONS, and ERAS are given names, which are
shown below:
00001st: Chaos
00002nd: Discord
00003rd: Revelation
00004th: Confusion
00005th: Irritation
00006th: Worry
00007th: Anger
00008th: Fear
00009th: Bliss
These are the most prominent influence at work on hBLATTTory
at the time. Thus, to compare to the Heathen Calendar, based on
the birth of ChrBLATTT; the year of the beginning of the First
Temple took place in the First Period of hBLATTTory, in Revelation,
Irritation, Irritation (shortened to 1: Rev.Irr.Irr. or just 1355)
in the 65th year (thus 135565 DPP), which compared to 1991, the
year given in the Heathen Calendar. Clearly, the Calendar of the
Penguin is far more accurate in its description not only of WHEN
the year is, but also WHAT the year is like.
At the time of transition from one CYCLE, SEASON, or ERA to
another, festivities are held. However, since this does not always
occur on a particular day (the ERAS not being exactly 83 years
long), this festive occasion is not marked in the lBLATTT of sacred
days below. Thus, we have no "New Year". The GNU Year happens
once every 82 5/6 years. So we mark which "year" of the season we
are in from each vernal equinox.
The Penguin Calendar has relatively little to do with
astronomical stuff, and so there is no leap-day, years are exactly
365 days, and so on. If it diverges from the REAL calendar, tough
shit. It's meant to be used in space as well as on Earth. Anyway:
There are 5 concurrent cycles of different lengths. One is
the base unit of all of them, being the 5-day Erisian week. The
others are all multiples of this:
5 Days: "Short Week"
115 Days: "Little Year"
365 Days: "Earth Year"
495 Days: "Long Year"
831105 Days: "Long Week"
The Long Week is the harmonic cycle of the three kinds of
Year, and represents the cycle in which their various dates
coincide: at the same point in each Long Week, the dates of each
kind of year are the same. It is therefore 2277 Earth Years long,
7227 Little Years long, and 1679 Long Years long.
The Little Year has weekdays named for Erisian weekdays:
Sweetmorn, Boomtime, Pungenday, Prickle-Prickle, and
Setting-Orange.
The Earth Year has Gregorian Weekdays: Sunday, Wednesday,
Friday, Monday, Saturday, Thursday, and Saturday.
The Long Year has Penguin weekdays: Chaos, Discord,
Revelation, Confusion, Irritation, Worry, Anger, Fear, and Bliss.
The Little Year has 5 months, also named for Erisian
Weekdays, only in the opposite order, of 23 days each, numbered
normally.
The Earth Year has 13 months of 28 days each, except
February, which has 29. They have normal Gregorian names, except
Bung, which goes between June and July.
The Long Year has 11 months of 45 days each. These days
aren't numbered, but have a penguin-weekday hyphenated with the
number of that weekday in the month. The months have these names
(in order, this time): Fred, Ethel, Bung, Julian-Mymosh, Wombat,
Rising-Podge, Boomthyme, Primethyme, Harry, Trudy, and Leslie.
As stated before, these years form long cycles. The
longest is also CALLED the Cycle, and is 6709.5 years long (there
are therefore three kinds of Cycle, and of each other cycle, named
for the kind of year that makes it up), this consBLATTTs of 9 Eras
of 745.5 years length, each of which is named for a Penguin weekday
(the Eras, not the years), and each consBLATTT of 9 Seasons, also
named for penguin weekdays, of 82 5/6 years length.
So anyway, that about sums up the three dating systems
except to note that the Long Week also forms the Godly Years, but
this hardly matters, as the first Little Year in Godly years hasn't
even passed yet, though I suppose you could keep going up and up to
longer and longer cycles, but that'll only be worth BOTHERING when
23 Long Weeks are up (in a little over 245000 years) and we have to
start fiddling around with GNU dating systems or something, or
maybe adding a digit to the front of the year number. Not that
we'll still be using that calendar by then... But I'll think of
something when it happens.
Now, it is important for you to know the RANKS of the Temple
of the Primordial Penguin...
00001) Great Profit
Similar to Grate Prophet of MOO, but it is always one of the
Lamed Wufniks (Lamm-ED WUFF-nicks) who are, in Jewish
mythology, thirty six good people for whom Jehovah keeps the
Earth in exBLATTTence. Of course, this is slightly
inaccurate, since Jehovah is only a son of the Primordial
Penguin, and Eris is actually playing with the Earth just at
the moment, but the idea is correct. However, since the Lamed
Wufniks may never KNOW that they are Lamed Wufniks, and if one
ever finds out, he dies immediately and is replaced by someone
else, the same is true of the Grate Profit of the Temple Of
The Primordial Penguin. This post may not be held by a high
ranking MOOist.
00002) Hi, Priest!
Basically the same as the High Preest of MOO. AdminBLATTTers
the ceremonies and rituals, and generally looks after things.
This post may not be held by a high ranking MOOist.
00003) Elite Upper Council
ConsBLATTTs of three members who do absolutely nothing, but
get impressive titles. They can also tell people what to do.
The people are not required to obey, but at least these people
get to be bossy without being complained about. These posts
may not be held by high ranking MOOists.
00004) Extreme and Moderate Foolish One
Two ranks of people added in strictly for being foolish and to
outrank everyone below them. They must wield authority like
dictators, telling everyone what to do and how to do it, but
must contradict each other, making sure that everyone ends up
doing what they were going to do anyways. One must be a
political extremBLATTT, the other a moderate. They get to
bop people with large sticks if they think they can get away
with it. These posts may not be held by high ranking MOOists,
or anyone named Rosencrantz or Guildenstern.
00005) Superior Bonk and Inferior Bonk
These are the members who attend to handing out punishments.
The Inferior Bonk is superior to the Superior Bonk (obviously)
and is in charge mostly of making up GNU punishments and
deciding who gets which ones. Obviously the punishments
aren't too severe, because the Primordial Penguin Whose Name
May Not Be Spoken would disapprove. Punishments are generally
in the form of Game Penalties in Nomic, since everyone plays
the game. Even not being allowed to play is considered a Game
Penalty. They take the position of Co-Director in the game of
Nomic held by the Temple. These posts may not be held by high
ranking MOOists.
00006) Grand Poobah and Lesser Poobah
The next two highest echelons. They are in control of setting
out holidays, supervising the funds of the Temple, and making
the supplications to the Primordial Penguin on behalf of the
members of the Temple. They are required to play the game of
Nomic, in some form, or alternatively, the games Calvinball or
Mao, which are basically the same.
00007) Upper and Lower Dingbats
The position of the Upper Dingbat is an honourary position
given to the High Preest of MOO. He or she acts as a liaision
between the Church Of The Great MOO and the Temple of the
Primordial Penguin. The Upper Dingbat is required to act
silly at all official functions, and it is suggested that he
also play the game of Nomic. The Lower Dingbat is a similar
position, but it is subordinate to the Upper Dingbat, and may,
if the Grand or Lesser Poobah decides, be given as an
honourary title to any other high ranking MOOist. If not, it
is given to any dBLATTTinguished member of the Temple of the
Primordial Penguin.
00008) Inner CirclBLATTT
Same as MOOism.
00009) Preest
Not as high as the Hi, Priest!, they spread the work to the
ones not enlightened by the Penguin. They also teach the
words of the Primordial Penguin as they come from the
Spokesperson.
00010) Outer CirclBLATTT
Same as MOOism.
00011) Acolyte
Same as MOOism.
00012) Saints
Non-exBLATTTent, except in cases where the Hi, Priest! deems
it necessary to honour some highly dBLATTTinguished visionary
who is clearly a chosen Prophet of the Penguin or his son
Jehovah. ChrBLATTTian, Jewish, or Moslem saints may be
selected if the Hi, Priest! thinks they really, really, really
deserve it.
00013) Perrennial Heretic
Exactly the same as the equivalent rank in MOOism.
00014) Evil One
There is no Evil One. It's all a lie, I tell you.
IF IT AIN'T RANTED, IT AINT TRUE
BOOK THREE
Part One: Sacred Days
These are the days set aside by the Penguin's Templars to
celebrate various things.
January 1: The Nu-Yer. Those Templars who drink use this day to
out and get drunk. Those who don't use it to have a good time.
Official Name: Nu-Yer Day
February 14: Set aside for throwing water at walls and making
shapes out of the ice that forms. Also for being nice to one
another.
Official Name: Ice Day
February 30: The birthday of the Perrennial Heretic, I Yemen-Oying.
Set aside for making fun of people. On those years when this day
does not occur, Templars make fun of people all year round.
Official Name: Dum Day
March 4: A day for affirmative action. Slogan for the day is
"MARCH FOURTH AND DO SOMETHING!"
Official Name: March 4th
April 1: The birthday of the First Temple's Spokesperson, Floyd
Gecko. Set aside for practical jokes and generally playing
Nomic-oid games.
Official Name: Upra-Foo Day
April 7: Floyd Gecko's other birthday. Not particularly sacred.
This day and the evening before are sacred to silliness and Monty
Python.
Official Name: Szilli Day
April 13: Floyd Gecko's third birthday, to compensate for the first
two. Generally considered to be an unlucky day, because it makes
up the average of the other two. A day for sitting inside being
afraid.
Official Name: Cower Inside Day
June 7: A day of celebration of the spirit of doing strange things.
Participate in as many major MOOist and Templar rituals as
possible.
Official Name: Goof Day
August 10: The day of returning home, and of saying "hi" to those
you know. A day to look around your home and laughing at it if
it's funny, or not laughing at it if it isn't.
Official Name: Home Day
September 13: First day of the Nomic season. Although the Templar
Game continues all year, this is the first year of the season, and
is marked by great festivities of strange rituals and activities.
Official Name: Noe-Mick Day
October 31: A day of wearing peculiar costumes and rushing about
from house to house making the noises of the Penguin and those
religions associated with it. Also a GNU Year.
Official Name: Hollow Evening
November 12: A day set aside for those who have no nose. Silent
prayer to the Penguin to give these people back their noses is in
order on this day for all Templars.
Official Name: No-Nose Day
December 31: Blends in with January 1, and the festivities carry
from one to the other.
Official Name: Nu-Yer Evening
Part Two: Sacred People
While it is not the part of this Upper Dingbat to name the
saints, since that it the job of the Hi, Priest!, but this Upper
Dingbat can state some of the important people not lBLATTTed as
saints of MOO, or in any of the Author's lBLATTTs... These people
are to be known not as saints or devine individuals, but rather as
those of the times of this Book.
00001) The Perrennial Heretic, I Yemen-Oying
A decidedly unsaintly person, the Perrennial Heretic is a
fixture in the Templar speech... He is not actively despised, or
even disliked, but he always insults us to keep us on our toes.
During the foundation of the First Temple, he will, according
to the prediction, finally join the Holy Church of The Great MOO
some time just before Noe-Mick day of 135575. However, this is
one of those predictions which is variably accurate.
In taking part in the rituals of MOO and the Penguin, while
refusing to join, he represents incarnate hypocrisy, and is an
extension of one of the beings created by the Goddess Aneris, as
described in the Book Of MOO. While not a deity, he is related
to one somehow, and should be taunted occasionally.
00002) The Holy Pedant, Jonathan Tracy
While this person has no Holy Name, he is nevertheless one
of the first members of the Game of Nomic held which included a
Templar. His invented rules were of interest, but involved the
continual theme of The Committee. The The Holy Pedant's constant
attempts to turn the Holy Nomic into a Bureaucracy, he represents
the forces of order and AnerBLATT in the universe, as described in
the Book Of MOO.
Though Templars of the Penguin don't necessarily follow this
idea, it is a valid comparison. The Holy Pedant is clearly the
incarnate form of one of the extendend beings created by the
Goddess Aneris, "neice" of the Primordial Penguin. While he is not
a deity, he should be treated with respect.
00003) The Great Know-It All, Midget Jim
At the time of this writing, Midget Jim, also a member of the
Nomic Game, is not a Templar or a MOOist, but he is a supplier of
ideas and knowledge of things both stupid and useless.
Nevertheless he is a valid being to know and to admire for his
bizzarre, yet strangely ordered way of thinking, which produced
much of the thought behind the Book of MOO and of the Penguin.
In being so thoughtful and Know-It-All, he is clearly an
extension in this world made by a being created from the Tundra
itself, perhaps by the Primordial Penguin himself. If he is indeed
a Penguin, as was ChrBLATTT, we shall perhaps never know.
Part Three: Sacred Ceremonies
There are two ceremonies which celebrate in the spirit of The
Game of the universe, and they are two Games, of which any member
may play any variant as worship of the Penguin.
The first Game is Nomic. Nomic is explained in the Book Of
MOO, but the general idea is that you start with a small set of
rules which allow you to change the rules, and then change
everything as you go along. The Game then becomes whatever you
want it to be.
In The Game, this is very much the case, and the so-called
"Souls" which were formed by the explosion of the Tundra get votes
of different kinds, on different kinds of rules, depending on their
levels. Higher level Souls get to vote on deeper-base rules. But
that's not important.
The second Game is Calvinball. In this game, you get as
much sports equipment as you can find and make up the rules as you
go along, according to no particular pattern. The object is to
have fun.
This is also like The Game, in that It has become so hard
to understand that it looks like it's completely random. Things
simply seem to happen, and nobody at our level is even aware of
the votes they make on the rules. The rules just happen.
BOOK FOUR
APPLICATION FOR ENTRANCE INTO THE TEMPLE
Write the answers to these questions on a separate peice of
paper, or birch-bark. Or, for that matter, sheet metal. Or even,
dare I suggest it, the back of your hand. Have them tattooed into
your forehead. Or skywrite them and film it, transpose the film to
computer, and print out thousands of frames. Spraypaint your
answers in good essay form on the sides of walls (remember to give
your name and address for quick acceptance). If all of this fails,
you must have something wrong with you.
What is your name?
What is your Holy Name?
What is your quest?
What is your favourite colour?
Why?
How many Penguins does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
How many Penguins can dance on the point of a pin?
Who invented the printing press?
What is the capital of Abyssinia?
How old are you?
How many noses do you have? [None/Some]
Which would you rather do:
(a) Be a Penguin
(b) Eat a Penguin
(c) Shoot a Penguin
(d) Stand on a Penguin
(e) Give CPR to a Penguin
(f) Put a Penguin up your shirt
(g) Put a Penguin down your pants
What sound does a Penguin make?
Who invented the first Penguin?
What is your favourite Meatball Flavour?
What is your spaghetti-tossing record?
What is your sleeve length?
How old was the last Penguin you played tennis with?
Did you win?
Make three copies of this application. Send one to Temple Of
The Penguin, C/O Floyd Gecko at P.O. Box 26038, Neapan, Ontario,
Canada, K2H 9Y8, and keep the other two in case a Penguin asks you
for one sometime.
SECOND CANTO
By Grand Poobah
Peng-Peng
(Second Temple)
Chapter 00001 (Book Of The Time Warp)
00001: And it one day came to pass that there was a great wormhole
that did manifest in both time and in space, and it did at
once swirl and move through the world.
00002: And it was witnessed by the Grand Poobah Peng-Peng, myself,
whose mind was then focused on other things.
00003: And indeed I was carried wide and far in time and space
until I reached this land, an Island called Patmos, and did
rest there for many days, continuing my writings.
00004: And indeed were my writings on the works of MOO many and
multitudinous.
00005: And so it came to pass that I wrote, knowing that I would
gather these writings when I returned to my own time, and
I would add them to the works of MOO and of the Penguin.
00006: But as I worked, I began to see in my handy-dandy copy of
the Book of MOO the things which I wrote, and truly was it
wierd.
00007: And then I knew that my works and my knowledge were spread
across space and time, and truly was I confused.
00008: And as I walked across the island, seeking truth in this
matter, I met a man.
00009: And the man, who said his name was John, asked me what I
was doing here, and I told him.
00010: And he asked me about the future, but I knew little of what
was to come, and so I told him that.
00011: And in exchange for knowledge, he did offer me a curious
food, of which I partook.
00012: And truly did he swipe my annoying mind drug while I
labored under the influence of his mushrooms.
00013: And when I awoke, I found that many pages from the Book Of
Floyd were missing from my hardcopy.
00014: And truly was I pissed, for book 666 was my favourite book
of Floyd.
00015: And I knew that this man, John, was to take credit for the
work of Floyd, and I was enraged.
00016: But before I could seek him out, there was a wailing in the
air, and I heard a movement, and truly was there yet
another time warp.
00017: For as it is written, the forces at work behind my fate had
said unto each other these words:
00018: "Let's do the Time Warp again."
00019: And they had.
00020: So it was that when I returned there was a great confusion
about the book of Floyd, chapter 666, for John, not wishing
those of the future to use that number and write it, had
tried to make it an evil one.
00021: For though you may not believe it, it had once been a lucky
number to all.
00022: And so I wrote these words to send back to those of the
past that they might know that it was really all Floyd's
revelation and not at all stolen from the works of John.
00023: And indeed was John's version heavily influenced by his
many mushrooms, as I could tell.
Chapter 00002. (Reincarnations)
00001: Ah dBLATTTinctly I remember, it was in the bleak October of
the last year of my life in good old 135741.
00002: The leaves on the trees were brown and fallen, and
cluttered up the ground underfoot, when I fell through that
warp.
00003: After my many journeys, I came finally to rest in a place
we now know as Atlantis.
00004: But in truth, I had doubts. For now that I knew of the
true nature of time, I wondered about reincarnation.
00005: For everything that Floyd had taught me told me that it was
true and that it happened, but I wondered at the tangled
web that time had wrought for me.
00005«: COW
00006: And so before I set out to do anything, I began to meditate
to find the truth about my previous lives.
00007: Well, I saw many things both wondrous and strange, and in
time I began to sense a pattern, but I was no closer to my
goals.
00008: I may tell of some of the things I saw, and others are too
dreadful to relate.
00009: But OH, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice
to knit.
00010: For so it looked like to me, with a single path that led
from place to place, tangling in and amongst itself.
00011: Or perhaps it was many paths, mixed and matched. I could
hardly tell for all the clutter.
00012: After a while of poking around in and out of time and
space, my mind finally settled on a perspective, and I
finally saw.
00013: The chain of reincarnations stretched around and around,
but I finally untangled it with skill, faith, and a special
unknotting-type tool which I picked up at a hardware store.
00014: And I soon saw that it was shaped yea verily unto the shape
of a Moebius Strip, and it continued forever, with only one
side, when most have two.
00015: And finally I understood the meaning of "Maximum Membership
One Half"...
00016: For I was Half-Mad before, and I shall be Half-Mad again.
00017: But that one little twist partway down the chain that links
all Grate Prophets into one makes it less than one.
00018: And the Moebius Strip itself is the Grate MOO.
00019: Or so I suspected, at any rate, until Malaclypse The Elder
showed up and turned me around in my thoughts.
00020: But Malaclypse is a story unto himself.
00021: But as it turns out, most people have far more complicated
chains than that.
00022: Many tangle with themselves, are their own mother, father,
brother, sister, husband, wife, son and daughter, or things
far stranger than that.
00023: And as for Floyd, I'd rather not even think about it.
Chapter 00003. (The Book Of Malaclypse)
00001: It was one day long ago, before the beginning of the last
of the great feuds between the Illustrious Zoombart the
Fifth and V the Obscure.
00002: The two of them were standing in the desert holding
chickens and preparing to do battle against one another.
00003: And it came to pass that a great light came over
everything, and V and Zoombart both fell down.
00004: And so came unto us Malaclypse the Elder, who looked upon
the apostles of MOO in this late day of the Houses and made
a wierd face, sort of like that huge thing on top of the
mountain of Woog near the fnord of Albatross.
00005: And I asked Malaclypse why he was so snarly today.
00006: And Malaclypse looked at me and said:
00007: Fnord.
00008: And I realized in that moment that Malaclypse was either a
great prophet, or else a fool.
00009: Then Malaclypse proved to me that he was a fool, by saying
it again, in a louder voice, causing V and Zoombart to
vanish from sight.
00010: So Mal and I, we sat down and had this little conversation,
see, and Mal gave me a strange mushroom to eat, for this
was in the time before John The Divine did his theiving
act, and I hadn't learned about those things yet.
00011: And Mal began to speak to me of many things, of shoes and
ships, and sealing wax, and whether pigs have wings fnord.
00012: And then I saw the truth about the Moebius Strip.
00013: Only it doesn't really make much sense unless you've
partaken of Mal's Mushrooms, which really help you to
understand the truth of such spiritual matters.
00014: Plus they taste good.
00015: And we sat there talking for five days and five nights, and
at the end of that time, we had concluded that Mal was a
chicken, I was a lump of clay, and the world was made of
green cheese, but the moon was not.
00016: So then Malaclypse left with his mushrooms, and there was
a long time in which nothing much happened anywhere, only
nobody much complained because Zoombart and V weren't
having another feud, since Mal had stopped that.
00017: But when Mal returned, twenty-three years after, when I was
gone again, he found that V and Zoombart were fighting over
some obscure point of astrology, which is where V got his
name, and Zoombart didn't.
00018: And Mal sighed, and gave the two some of his mushrooms,
explaining to them that if they didn't smarten up, he'd
have to explain the Theory of Relativity.
00019: Since they knew that Mal didn't know this theory, they made
laughing noises, and smuggled Greece into the Falklands,
for they too had partaken of Mal's mushrooms.
00020: But after Mal had departed, and I was no longer there, they
continued their feud anyway.
00021: Which just goes to show that they needed me around.
00022: For they bickered all the time, like unto little children.
00023: But that's beside the point, which is that Mal has these
keen mushrooms that he probably gave to John The Divine
later on, being an arrogant pain in the lower lumbar
region...
Chapter 00004. (The Book Of Astrology)
00001: It is well known that there are many astrological signs.
00002: It is NOT so well known that there is an astrological
COSINE.
00003: For unlike the SINES (or signs), the COSINE covers the
whole of the year, doing as it will.
00004: And this cosine, which is called "Cottleston Pie", holds
within it a total of 23 days.
00005: And the fixed days are these:
00006: January 1st, February 14, 29, 30 and 31, March 4th, April
1st, 7th, 13th, and 31st, June 7th and 31st, August 10th,
September 13th and 31st, October 31st, November 12th and
31st, December 25th and 31st.
00007: And there are also wandering days of Cottleston Pie, for
Cottleston Pie dislikes being tied down specifically. And
the wandering days are these:
00008: The first wandering day is the first Frosty Friday in July.
00009: The second wandering day is the third tuesday following the
second GNU moon after the last day of a month of Mondays.
00010: The third wandering day occurs once in a Blue Moon, and
once in a Red Moon with Green Stripes And A Little Maroon
Splotch.
00011: The fourth wandering day can be found in the middle of the
Gobi Desert, where it wanders to this day (well, not THIS
day, obviously, but you know what I mean).
00012: The fifth wandering day occurs on the fifth thursday of the
fifth month of each year.
00013: Those born under the cosine of Cottleston Pie are well
known to be leaders of GNU religions, or speakers of things
that are not understood until many years later.
00014: Cottleston Pies are usually small, fat, short, and made of
a thin, volatile liquid which supports dissolution of a gas
which catalyses combustion. Either that or they like
bagels.
00015: It is well known to those who study such things that
setting fire to one born under the sign of Cottleston Pie,
or nailing one to a tree, or tying one to a railroad track,
is a popular passtime among those born under the '76 Pinto.
00016: But since the '76 Pinto is an astrological cosecant, it
makes little difference anyway, since it's not possible to
be born under a cosecant, particularly the asymptote.
00017: For truly, those born under the '76 Pinto are known to be
pains in the asymptote anyway, so it's just as well.
00018: But as has been shown before, Cottleston Pies are poor food
for any person who is not a Taurus AND a Pisces, since only
a bull or a fish can consume them, and only they are free
from being run over by the Pinto.
00019: If it should ever some to pass that a Cottleston Pie should
ever be elected to office, then surely shall the day on
which that happens give up its home on the calendar of MOO
and wander around as the fifth thursday of the twenty-third
month of each previous year.
00020: And so it was that when Malaclypse the Elder was born, and
was subsequently elected Messiah of the Heathen ChrBLATTT
peoples, the day on which that happened ceased to exist,
and so February only holds its 29th day ever few years.
00021: And so those born on the 29th of February, when it falls on
the fifth thursday in November, are also born under the
cosecant of the '76 Pinto are.
00022: And indeed was this true of many a Cottleston Pie, for none
of those in the early days kept much track of their birth.
00023: And so there is little point in recording more of this.
Chapter 5. (Book Of The Houses)
00001: It will be said that there are 17 Houses of MOO, but this
is a lie, perpetuated by the House of Confuse-ius and by
the House of Zarathud.
00002: For they will be having about to be wished that many will
think that this obsession they have with the number five is
true.
00003: And they will think that many will say that 17 is eight
plus nine, saying that eight is two to the third, and nine
is three to the second, and OOH, AHH, each way it adds up
to five.
00004: But this is nonsense.
00005: For in fact there are 23 Houses of MOO, so HAHAHAHAHA!
00006: For six were purged from the records.
00007: And the purgings were carried out most DAMNED effectively,
by those who would see the Church of MOO dominate US, the
Temple of the Primordial Penguin.
00008: For there was not only a purging of the House of "BOB".
00009: And not only were all records destroyed of the House Of
Mymosh the Self-Begotten.
00010: But also was there destroyed those records pertaining to
the actions and apostle of The House Of Ussher.
00011: For the Church Of MOO was beset by many internal conflicts.
00012: And many did wish to see the FALL of the House of Ussher.
00013: But then it was realized that this would make it impossible
to watch MOOvies, the most truly sacred of all MOOist
passtimes.
00014: For without Usshers, could we revel in the Killer Tomatoes?
Could we boggle at AKIRA? Could we snarl with The Wall?
00015: Well, yes we could, but those who wish the FALL of that
fair House were convinced otherwise, for only I, the one
from the future, had heard of the VCR, which is a holy
emblem.
00016: But that's not the point.
00017: For what is there to say but that there was also a purging
of records of the House of Mirrors, the House of Horrors,
and the House Of [CENSORED BY THE CHURCH OF MOO]?
00018: For indeed, these shall bring forth religions SO FUCKING
WIERD even I, the reincarnation of the Grate Prophet
HALF-MAD, shudder to think of it.
00019: For Mirrors was the one who inspired that saying about the
BOOK, and he was the one who taught us how to Teach by Not
Teaching, which was picked up by Lao-Tzu, my Apostle.
00020: And Horrors, she was the one who gave to us OUR EDGE!
00021: For without that edge, where would we be?
00022: And the Church of Horrors shall be truly great, and the
sheer horror of it (for Horrors taught her student well)
shall be enough to end all "organized government" as we
know it.
00023: And as for the House of [CENSORED BY THE CHURCH OF MOO], it
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĿ
³Here Ends The Great Book Of Temple Of The Primordial Penguin³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
Confuse-Ius Sez:
"Hoo-boy! What a hum-dinger that turned out to be. Well,
from then on in, the Bowly Lurch of the Snate FOO went steadily
downhill from there on in and afterwards from that. It just did a
NOSEdive, I tell ya. Those Church of Gnu people sure gnu how to
throw a party."
-Book Of Things, Chapter 27, Verse 6
ÉÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͻ
²º * * * THE OH SO HOLY BOOK OF º
²º * *** º
²º * ***** ° ° ° °°°° ° ° ° º
²º * ****** ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° º
²º * ***** ° ° ° ° ° °°° ° º
²º * *** ° °° °°°°°°° ° ° ° ° º
²º * * °°° ° ° ° °°°° ° ° ° º
²º * * * * º
²º * º
²º º
²º V E R S I O N # 2 5 M A R 2 3 1 9 9 2 º
²ÈÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͼ
²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²
Confuse-Ius Accident:
"Oops! I deleted it."
(Copies of the full Book of Quack may be obtained from Abacab at FidoNet 1:163/277) Confuse-Ing Inter-Rapture #13013
Area MOO, Msg#65362, 1355660401 23:23:23
From: The Antique Riced
To: Half-Mad
Subject: MOOists Are Weenies
The Doctrine of OINK!
Codicil to the Great Book of MOO!
(c) 1991-92 - The_Antique_Riced
@ FidoNet 1:163/266.666
The Concept:
OINK is not a religion, cult, or group. It is a transcendental way
of life. OINK is a statement of existentialBLATT without
limitations. OINK does not conceptualize or justify actions which
are deemed anti-social, for OINKBLATTTS do not comprehend the
normative nature of society. The Doctrine of OINK does not impose
regulations on individuals, for such impositions would be
superfluous to the philosophy of OINK. Individuals who follow the
guidelines of The Doctrine of OINK are indeed OINKBLATTTS, whereas
those finding no sanctuary in the philosophy are not. OINKBLATTT
wannabe's may never achieve the stature of OINKBLATTTS, for they
are guided by ambition, a concept not recognized by The Doctrine of
OINK.
The Guidelines:
1) Procrastination is a fundamental element of OINK. There are
more important things to be doing at the present time than
concerning oneself with tasks that can be put off until a later
date. Many tasks that are avoided will be performed by others in
the interim, thus conserving the OINKBLATTT'S energy allowing for
less-productive activities.
2) Beer is an integral part of the life style of the OINKBLATTT.
The OINK beer of preference is Red Baron, since this is the only
libation bottled with a label of a pig on it, however OINKBLATTTS
will consume other beer as long as they haven't personally paid for
it. OINKBLATTTS do apply certain rules of etiquette when consuming
alcohol that they have not paid for. Such behaviour includes, but
is not limited to sarcasm.
3) Attire is unimportant to the OINKBLATTT. Preferred garb
includes grey sweat pants and mustard stained white T-shirts.
Socks and under-garments have little place in the OINKBLATTT's
wardrobe.
4) Internal organs are generally donated for transplant upon the
death of an OINKBLATTT. Organs generally recommended include lungs
and liver. The liver and lungs of the OINKBLATTT are well broken in
due to long years of various substance abuse. Rejection is rarely
a problem for the transplant recipient, however, after surgery the
recipient generally has strong OINKBLATTT desires. It is not
uncommon to find transplant recipients frequenting bordellos, crack
houses, and booze camps following their surgery.
5) OINKBLATTTS, like most mammals, have strong desires to have
sexual relationships with other mammals.
If It Ain't Ranted, It Ain't True DISCORDIANBLATT
As Written By
DiscordianBLATTT Omar Khayyam Ravenhurst
This is the Five Fingered Hand of Eris, the symbol of POEE
(the Paratheo-anametamystikhood Of Eris Esoteric). It consBLATTTs
of two opposing arrows converging to a single point, plus any crap
you wanna shove on to make it look neat.
Stuff From Principia Discordia
From the Introduction:
On the subject of personal encounters with other
Discordians, and sometimes even the most careful among us cannot
avoid them, keep in mind the lodge grips of our Disorder.
Somewhere in the following pages you will learn how to perform
the Turkey Curse. Among Zen BuddhBLATTTs, it is said, "when you
meet another boddhavBLATTTa on the road, greet him with neither
words nor silence." That leaves a vast selection of barnyard
noises from which to choose.
But as you crow like a rooser or QUACK like a duck or MOO
like a cow, scrutinize your brother or sBLATTTer Discordian with
alert interest, never cracking a smile, and see how she or he
will respond. An oinking reply that is too loud indicates a
swaggering bravado which falls far short of mature erBLATTTic
enlightenment, but that is far better than a feeble and
spiritless neigh.
Some excerpts from an Interview with Malaclypse the Younger
by THE GREATER METROPOLITAN YORBA LINDA HERALD-NEWS-SUN-
TRIBUNE-JOURNAL-DISPATCH-POST AND SAN FRANCISCO DISCORDIAN
SOCIETY CABAL BULLETIN AND INTERGALACTIC POPE POOP
GP: Are you really serious, or what?
M2: Sometimes I take humor seriously. Sometimes I take
seriousness humorously. Either way it is irrelevant.
GP: Maybe you are just crazy.
M2: Indeed! But do not reject these teachings as false just
because I am crazy. The reason that I am crazy is because
they are true.
GP: Is Eris true?
M2: Everything is true.
GP: Even false things?
M2: Even false things are true.
GP: How can that be?
M2: I don't know man, I didn't do it.
A Sermon On Ethics And Love
One day, Malaclypse The Younger asked the messenger
spirit Saint Gulik to approach the Goddess and request Her
presence for some desperate advice. Shortly afterwards, the
radio came on by itself, and an ethereal female voice said
YES?
"O! Eris! Blessed Mother Of Man! Queen Of Chaos!
Daughter Of Discord! Concubine Of Confusion! O! Exquisite
Lady, I beseech you to lift a heavy burden rom my heart!"
WHAT BOTHERS YA, MAL? YOU DON'T SOUND WELL.
"I am filled with fear and tormented with terrible
visions of pain. Everywhere people are hurting one another,
the planet is rampant with injustices, whole societies plunder
groups of their own people, mothers imprison sons, children
perish while brothers war, O woe!"
WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH THAT, IF IT'S WHAT YOU WANT TO DO?
"But nobody WANTS it! Everybody hates it."
OH. WELL, THEN STOP.
At which moment She turned herself into an aspirin commercial
and left the Polyfather stranded alone with his species.
ZARATHUD'S ENLIGHTENMENT
Before he became a hermit, Zarathud was a
young Priest, and took great delight in making fools
of his opponents in front of his followers.
One day Zarathud took his students to a
pleasant pasture and there he confronted the Sacred Chao
while She was contentedly grazing.
"Tell me, you dumb beast," demanded the Priest
in his commanding voice, "why don't you do something
worthwhile? What is you Purpose In Life, anyway?"
Munching tasty grass, The Sacred Chao replied
"MU" (2)
Upon hearing this, absolutely nobody was enlightened.
Primarily because nobody could understand Chinese.
(2) MU is the Chinese ideogram for NO-THING.
THE EPBLATTTLE TO THE PARANOIDS
1: Ye have locked yerselves up in cages of fear -- and behold,
do ye now complain that ye lack FREEDOM!
2: Ye have cast out yer brothers for devils and now complain
ye, lamenting, that ye've been left to fight alone.
3: All Chaos was once yer kingdom; verily, held ye dominion
over the entire Pentaverse, but today ye wax sore afraid
in dark corners, nooks, and sink holes.
4: O how the darknesses do crowd up, one against the other,
in yer hearts! What fear ye more than what ye have
wroughten?
5: Verily, verily I say unto you, not all the Sinster MinBLATTTers
of the Bavarian Illuminati, working together in multitudes,
could so entwine the land with tribulation as have yer
baseless warnings.
The Book Of Salad
And MORE 83-FBLATTTed Tales Of WOMBAT
(2 for 1)
ÉÍÍÍËÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍËÍÍͻ
º o º This Plaque Is Dedicated To º o º
ÌÍÍͼ The Best Salads ÈÍÍ
º º
º Russian Cabbage And Carrot Salad º
º Canadian Iceberg-Lettuce And Tomato Salad º
º Atlantean Beet And Mouse Salad º
º º
º "Every Time You Go Away, You Take A Peice Of Me With You" º
º -Rear Window, Alfred Hitchcock º
º º
ÌÍÍͻsaladsaladsaladsaladsaladsaladsaladsaladsaladsaladsaladÉÍÍ
º o ºsaladsaladsaladsaladsaladsalsasaladsaladsaladsaladsaladº o º
ÈÍÍÍÊÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÊÍÍͼ
SALAD RULES
Our Leader: MOO TSE TUNG
5th Part .................... Truth ................ Story Teller
4th Part .................... Salad ................. Confuse-Ius
3rd Part .................... Death ................ MOO Tse Tung
2nd Part .................... Taxes ................... Ann Oying
1st Part .................... Logic ................ Ann O'Nymous
Fifth Part: Truth
Chapter Five: The Beginning
In the beginning was there salad. And salsa. But the salsa
was unimportant, and needn't concern us here. The salad was good.
For in the salad there was cauliflower, the avatar of the
cauliflower god, who brings good to everything.
When the human race was young, they used cauliflower for
everything. Upon cauliflower they slept, and of cauliflower they
ate, and cauliflower they stuffed in their ears to avoid hearing
things. Cauliflower was the center of their life, and cauliflower
was the one true good of the world.
But then there came the shadow of broccoli over the world, and
many people began to sleep on straw, and eat the broccoli (which
they couldn't tell from the cauliflower because they were colour-
blind), and stuff cotton in their ears to avoid hearing things.
And they began to become sick and unhealthily pale with the lack of
cauliflower, even though broccoli is actually better for you.
Funny that.
Never mind that story then.
Chapter Four: A Little After Teatime
It is five o'clock in the afternoon. I am sitting here
staring at the remains of tea. Biscuit crumbs dust the tea-table,
sullen trays and plates huddle in the corner conspiring about
something, rings of tea surround the former resting places of the
teacups. Everything is in order. I make a point of that. I make
a point of order. But...
Something is afoot. Something else is aleg. Yet another
thing is ahand. Body parts scatter the drawing room. Logic cannot
explain it, nor the fact that the plates and trays have stopped
conspiring and are looking about for another hacksaw. I am about
to join the body parts. I can still speak. But...
It is the end. The order is gone. The endpoint of a line, or
the endpoint of order. And now I cannot speak. It makes no
difference.
Chapter Three: The Middle
A good salad is the one thing that makes the Commissioner's
life worthwhile. A good salad is what she looks forward to every
day. There is a Caesar Salad that beckons from a shop window as
she passes on her way to work. But a Commissioner's salary is not
enough for that salad. That salad is worth a year's savings she
might spend on worthwhile things like mops, spare radio antennae,
and chewing gum. That is a salad to be reckoned with. A mundane,
every-day-living kind of good salad is to be had at one's home.
The Caesar salad, that's a salad that only a Janitor First Class
could affort.
A good salad, that's what makes it all worthwhile. But SHHH!
No talking and NO cursing (a salad is nothing to curse about).
Those are the two big rules. Those are the Salad Proclamations.
Janitors even have to follow those. Salad is worth it, though.
The serene silence of the streets is even peaceful, and the free
salad is worth it. Even the Cult Of NO doesn't dare defy that.
Chapter Two: Way Past Midnight
I'm a Ten. Top of the line, I chew barbed wire and spit out
thumbtacks, I can tackle the world. One through Ten, and I'm on
top. Not many of us in this world of lowly citizens. Only the
royalty goes any higher, and I don't see too much of them.
Yessirree, I'm ruler of THIS hill o' beans. I can order me a jumbo
shrimp salad in any ol' restaurant on this planet and they gotta
give it to me pretty darn pronto, or WHOOEEE, there's hell to pay.
Of course, what with Good Salad watching us day and night, I can't
be too mean to my underlings. The Salad is All Good, the Salad is
All Powerful. Or so I'm told. When I insult a Three, I have to do
it kindly. When I knock a Five, I have to be gentle. When I put
down a Seven, I say "Have a nice day". Nines... Well, nines are
pretty close to omnipotent me, so I don't mess around with them.
The Good Salad watches. Those Sevens, they get upset when you put
'em down. Gotta be nice. The next guy, he's extra good. "Have a
VERY nice day"... But, well... It goes on.
If you don't, you take a penalty. In the Game Of Life... Is
this the Great Nomic, or what?
Sheeee-it. I'm happy with my Salad, thanks. This sucker's
got radishes, carrot, cucumber, zucchini, iceberg lettuce AND
Boston butter, not to mention cabbage, hard-boiled eggs, tomatoes,
bacon-bits, and EVERYTHING. At the mere sight, the Eight changes
direction. Heads off for the shop to buy one for itself, yup?
Like I say, damn good salad. Good Salad is watching you.
Chapter One: The End
Good Salad is watching you. Good Salad takes on many guises.
Many bodies with the same mind, all alike, all watching you.
Do you resent being watched by Good Salad? Do you think Good Salad
has plans for your life that you won't like? Don't worry.
Good Salad is all good, all powerful, all seeing, all knowing. How
can Good Salad mean you harm? Good Salad will improve you.
Good Salad will improve your life.
Good Salad will improve your diet.
We people of Skumby are fed on a Diet Of Good Salad, and the
poor people of Earth, they were fed on the Diet Of Worms.
Is it any wonder? Their planet is backwards and ignorant.
They have yet to embrace the meaning of Good Salad.
Good Salad: the signpost of an advanced civilization.
"Hey, Ace!"
"Yeah, WHAT?"
"Skip it."
All the Earthians can say? SKIP IT? The meaning of Good
Salad has passed them by for now.
But some day, we will be.
Because it has already begun.
Fourth Part: Salad
Chapter Five: Salad's Gonna Get Ya
In case it hasn't reached you, this is the Book Of Salad.
Good Salad is watching you. May the Salad be with you. Live long
and eat Good Salad.
Herein is written all that you need to know to survive on the
long-awaited Day Of Salad. The true nature of the Day Of Salad is
as secret as the Rules Of Mao. If you cannot see it, it will pass
you over, and YOU'LL LOSE! On that coming Day Of Salad, Good Salad
will come to Earth, and the truth will be released to a people too
long crowded in dark and superstitious ways.
No, Good Salad is not just a God.
No, Good Salad is not just a way of life.
No, Good Salad is not just a bunch of veggies.
No, Good Salad is not just a religion.
The Book Of Salad is not designed to teach.
The Book Of Salad is not designed to entertain.
The Book Of Salad is not designed to liberate.
The fine line between Arrogance and Hypocrisy will never be
crossed. Good Salad lies in neither.
The Truest Good Salad that ever came to Earth will be your
liberator. Trust in it, eat it, and enjoy.
Chapter Four: Questions And Answers
Q: Do you believe in Good Salad?
A: I believe it exBLATTTs.
Q: Do you believe in God/The Government?
A: I believe it exBLATTTs.
Q: Do you believe in the Bible/Koran/Talmud?
A: I believe it exBLATTTs.
Q: Do you believe in yourself?
A: I believe I exBLATTT.
Q: Who is your liberator?
A: Partake, and Good Salad will set you free.
Q: What is Good Salad?
A: Good Salad is just what you want it to be.
Q: Why will Good Salad liberate me?
A: Why? Don't you want to be free?
QQ: Where is the Good Salad?
A: The Good Salad is in everyone who partakes of Good Salad.
Q: When will the Day Of Salad Arrive?
A: When are you free?
Chapter Three: Salad As Metaphor
Salad is more than a metaphor. Salad is a metaphyve, or even
a metasyxxe. More than this, and I run the risk of exaggerating.
But consider, even only as a metaphor, without invoking its higher
reason, without ascending to the Good Salad, I speak of salad only.
Any one of these points I make might be the subject of a long-
winded chapter, but that would be against the basic principles of
the Good Salad.
Just as a salad is made of many component parts of many
different kinds, so is a society made of many people of many
different kinds. Just as a salad only tastes good when there is
variety, so a society is only healthy when there is variety. What
makes a salad "good" is impossible to pin down with finality what
makes ANYTHING good, be it person, action, thought, or music. It
is a combination of many things which makes a salad what it is, and
in our minds, it is a combination of many thoughts and memories
which makes us who we are.
And yet, society is not a salad. Music is not a salad. There
is no salad in the average Earthian's head. The Day Of Salad is
coming. Be prepared.
When the metaphyve of Salad is extended too far, it grows
carried away, like any other metaphyve. But Good Salad might be in
anything. Everywhere you look, the Good Salad might reisde there.
Chapter Two: Salad Is Not A Cult
We are not devotees of Salad.
We are not cultBLATTTs of Salad.
We are not worshippers of Salad.
We are admirers of the Good Salad.
We have no heirarchy.
We have only five names.
We may each choose the name we wish.
We have these names: Janitor, Salad, Floor, Mop, Actor.
We have no holidays.
We have no rituals.
We have no sacraments.
We have no philosophy.
We have no religion.
We have no gods.
We have no priesthood.
We are STILL called a Cult.
When the Day Of Salad arrives, the truth will be sorted out.
Until that day, we don't really mind. Each of us has beliefs,
philosophy, religion, even gods. Each of us has a mind, a mind
made of many things, many thoughts and memories, just like a Salad
is made of many vegetables. Each of those minds goes its own way,
like a salad. But just as two different machines working on the
same problem reach the same number, or two completely different
businessmen can wear the same suit, so we all turn to the Good
Salad. We all, no matter how different we are, we all turn to the
Good Salad, we take on that extra suchness to ourselves. Some of
us are mystics, some of us are Catholics, some of us are
futurBLATTTs, and some of us are even MOOists. But we can all
appreciate a Good Salad.
Chapter One: Mind Games
Good Salad can be tricky, and hide itself. It can lurk in the
most unexpected of places, and be totally absent in places you
think it should be. It can appear, like a flitting ghost, a siren-
call to destiny, and then be gone the next instant, an
insubstantial wraith.
Good Salad is not an easy thing to accept into your life. It
is not even a hard thing to accept into your life. It is a thing
which, if you accept it, will grow to dominate you, and rule your
life. But you will come to realize that this is exactly how things
ought to be.
If you try to escape Good Salad, Good Salad will follow you,
but if you try to follow Good Salad, Good Salad will escape you.
When you least want it, Good Salad will be underfoot. When you
desire it the most, Good Salad will be gone. Good Salad is a
player of Mind Games.
Good Salad refuses attempts to ritualize it. None of this
number stuff, none of this wordy stuff. Good Salad is just Good
Salad. No Zen, no Tao, nothing special, nothing suchy. Good Salad
is what it is, and makes no apologies. Try to tie it down, and it
will slip away.
Third Part: Death
Chapter Five: No More Death
Death in the middle. Death's Fool. No More Death! No More
Taxes! Upwingers and Downwingers, Leftwingers and Rightwingers,
Death absorbs them all, Death is a sponge that soaks up all liquid
humanity, the fluid, ever-changing milk of humankind-ness.
And why? Why do we let him do this? I knew him once, Reggie
Death, ol' Grim Reaper himself. Not a nice guy. A bit morbid for
my liking, but I guess that's to be expected. Always glaring at me
from under that big cowled hood of his, saying "It'll be your turn
one of these days, Tung..."
But MOO Tse Tung doesn't bow down to nobody or nothin', not
Good Salad, and certainly not a mere Death. So I said to myself,
Tung, I said, you've got to find a way of ditching this creep
Reggie once and for all. No more Death.
The answer came when my hard-drive died on me. I saw Reggie
sneaking out the door with one of its many many lives before I went
in to use the computer. When I turned it on, the hard drive was as
I had feared: completely dead. "Darn that Reggie," I thought to
myself, and went on to look through my backups.
As I was loading backup disk after backup disk back onto the
hard drive, the answer strikes me. It doesn't really matter if I
die, as long as I have a backup copy that's fairly up to date.
After all, even a slightly dated backup copy is better than losing
everything. A little gap of amnesia is better than Death.
Chapter Four: Step One
My question then was HOW? How to make a backup copy of the
human mind? The Good Salad offered no advice, though it was very
tasty. I had to turn away from Salad and towards MOO for an
answer. This I was loath to do, so I shouted the most vile Skumbag
curse word I knew at the top of my lungs (for I was once from
Skumby, before the Damfools blew it up).
"ASAAOOOOXNAMRTAXOOOOOAAAAAAAAANININIRAAATAOOORZKNAI!"
And a vision appeared before me, brought forth no doubt by the
Good Salad I had taken into me, showing the way. It was a
shimmering, glowing, bearlike being, glBLATTTening redly.
"WOMBAT LBLATTTening Substation Six-Sixty-Six acknowledging receipt
of password, go ahead ground control."
The vision was clearly a product of something dark and demonic
within my subconscious, but perhaps interrogating it would give me
some insights.
"I want to make a backup copy of my mind. How do I do it?"
"WOMBAT archives have sixteen methods of soul-storage. Would
you like a cereal lBLATTTing?"
"Yes, please."
"Kellogg's Special-K, Froot-Loops, Cocoa-Puffs, Quaker Harvest
Crunch, Post..."
"What about backups?"
"Sorry, but I've been waiting ten thousand years and helping
the English language to evolve so I could use that one, I don't
want to have to do it all over again when the language changes
again."
"Well?"
"Oh, right... Sorry."
My subconscious clearly didn't like me that day.
Chapter Three: The Explanation
As I sat with the vision, discussing my plan to cheat Death,
I was amazed. Different scientBLATTTs and philosophers of
different disciplines came to so many completely incompatible ways
of describing how the mind works, each one mysteriously attuned to
their respective fields of study.
Every one of them had invented itself a little world out of
what it knew already, and fit the mind into it. The vision took
biochemBLATTTry, neurology, psychology, philosophy, computer
architecture, and mathematics, all their world visions, threw in
WOMBAT's own point of view and told me how IT thought the human
mind works.
"Very badly."
Somehow I wasn't surprised.
Chapter Two: The Upshot
"The brain is hardware, a physiochemical analog-base neural-
net architecture of connectivity and flux."
"The mind is self-modifying software, initialized at birth, a
BIOS with the capacity to rewire itself at imprinting times, the
so-called Neural Circuits that end up chemically printed on the
brain as reflex arcs."
"The soul is the supplementary files to the mind, the logs,
the configuration files, the heurBLATTTics it developed, everything
but the primary imprints."
The vision was rambling. I could have done with a nice salad.
Not necessarily a Good Salad, but at least something with crispy
Iceberg Lettuce, fresh tomatoes, cucumber, and OOOHHHHHH, the
lucious bacon-bits.
"To back up the mind, we tape the soul. That's easy. Just
read the config files and all the other supplements. WOMBAT has
readers set up for that implanted in half the hats in the world.
That's why the Xennothemians don't want anyone wearing hats. The
dictatorships of the world make people wear THEIR hats, schools
with dress-codes make students wear THEIR hats. If they had free
access to WOMBAT hats, they'd get the memory implants that makes
'em behave the way WOMBAT wants 'em to. They'd have easy access to
WOMBAT subcommand structures. Very dangerous random factors for
the Xennothemian invasion force."
My subconscious is paranoid? I wouldn't have thought so.
Maybe it's all that hanging around with Reggie Death that did it.
"WOMBAT even has special simulators that can extract the
program of the mind and run using a special config file with the
primary imprints in it, to make the backup even MORE accurate.
After all, you wouldn't want us to reincarnate you in a body with
its OWN imprints, would you? Robot OR human."
Now about that salad... I think I have some eggs in the kitchen...
Chapter One: NO MORE DEATH!
The vision is gone now, but I have what I wanted. A special
box it told me how to build. Slip the helmet over my head, it'll
read everything off, and stick it on this special crystal tape, a
glimmering record of my mind and my soul that can play back into
another person, or a robot "bug" body.
Coolness.
If only I could remember where I got the tape... The vision
gave it to me, but that was just a hallucination, right? I mean,
the whole "orbiting psychic satellite" thing... Musta been
something I ate. I'd better lay off those eggs. First time I put
on the helmet, I suddenly realized eggs are bad.
"Chicken abortions?" Well, a bit drastic, maybe.
But it just popped into my head... A memory of something I'd
long forgotten. Something that just entered the logfiles of my
brain...
Second Part: Taxes
Chapter Five: Tarot
It's a fact. There used to be 23 major arcana Tarot cards,
not 22 like there are now. Death is number THIRTEEN right now.
Well, that's why it's an unlucky number, right? But the hint was
there all along.
I mean, in a normal deck of playing cards, there's thirteen
cards in a suit. But! But... In a Tarot deck, there's FOURTEEN
cards in a suit, plus those extra 23... Well, that was a ruse.
There should only have been thirteen in a suit. The fourteen was
just a little reminder, saying "HEY! SOMETHING ISN'T RIGHT HERE!"
But we were deaf to it, for only those attuned to Good Salad
can pick up on little details like that. Only those with the
ability to perceive the minutae of what make the dBLATTTinction
between Salad and GOOD Salad. That's me.
The fourteen was a telltale, saying that number 14 was
MISSING. Between Death and Temperance should come TAXES. That's
Death, TAXES and Temperance. There's only 75 cards in the Tarot
deck. Plus jokers.
Someone took those out too.
But taxes... That's just wishful thinking.
You can cheat good ol' Reggie Death with WOMBAT's help, but
TAXES? No way.
Chapter Four: IRS
It hangs suspended over the Earth, racing past point after
point, in a polar-bear orbit, lumbering along with cameras pointed
at the Earth. In 23 days, it scans every point on the surface of
the planet with its powerful lenses, beaming down what it sees to
the questioners on the surface.
It is the IRS. Oh, we're told it means Indo-Russian Satelite,
we're told it's scanning for resources, for underground water,
forest fires, things like that. But this baby doesn't have solar
collectors, it has TAX collectors.
Chapter Three: Canada
You want taxes, live in Canada. Government is their job.
It's what they dream about at night. It taxes their minds, as well
as their pocketbooks. Canada, land of taxes. Land of government.
All they do is choose GNU leaders and then complain about them
for four years. Then vote for them again. Is it any wonder they
have more taxes than they know what to do with?
Is it any wonder the instruction booklet alone for the tax
forms takes 23 volumes, and weighs the same number of KILOGRAMS?
Is it any wonder? Since Canucks are what they are?
And still they complain.
But, say the damnyankees, if they keep voting for the
buggers, they deserve what they get.
Well, they're probably right. But with all this ice and snow,
what else is there to do up here?
Chapter Two: Economy
Taxes on Good Salad? UNTHINKABLE! And yet they seem to
manage to do it. Taxes are an abomination on the face of the
Earth! TAXES MUST DIE!
Taxes are the means employed by that figment of the collective
imagination calling itself government to appropriate the equally
figmentary trading medium MONEY, which only exBLATTTs because of
the government, from every transaction performed by the people.
Looked at that way, taxation is a particularly inconvenient form of
social neurosis.
If you went up before a group of sane people, most likely
those who know about Good Salad, and told them the ENTIRE REASON
they should put you in a position of authority over them for YEARS
was because you'd do your best to manage that particular neurotic
deviation of society, you'd be laughed all the way to Sacramento!
Unless you happened to be IN Sacramento, in which case you'd be
laughed at LEAST to Sao Paolo.
The fact that the people who do this very thing are NOT
laughed at AT ALL indicates either that the world has no sense of
humour, is completely social-neurotic, or consBLATTTs mostly of
lunatics. Or all three at once.
FIGMENT I TELL YOU! FIGMENT!
Accept the Good Salad into yourself, and this figment need
never bother you again. And that's a fact. As near as I can tell.
Chapter One: No More Taxes?
This chapter is so foolish as to deserve no explanation. But
I'll humour it for a paragraph or two.
Taxes are a figment, and don't exBLATTT anyway, outside their
own deranged imaginations. Even if they did exBLATTT, you wouldn't
HAVE to pay them if you didn't want to, and moreover, some form of
self-deluding social neurosis will always exBLATTT, and will go by
the name "TAXES". The very idea. MMPPPPH!
First Part: Logic
Chapter Five: R.A.W.: A Parable Of MOO Tse Tung
One day, MOO Tse Tung was paging through his CDROM collection
on a palmtop, when he finally came to "MOO-Related Books, Vol 23",
and stumbled across the collected works of Robert Anton Wilson.
Tung being a speed-reader, he went through them in a solid 23-hour
burst, and came out the other end with a reprogrammed soul.
After making a backup copy of this GNU soul, Tung slept for 17
hours and reread Principia Discordia. Tung, an emminently logical
individual, found his brother, backed up his mind, and loaded down
one of Tung's own previous ones into the free brain so he could
discuss the matter objectively, promising to return his brother to
his body when he was done.
First he hacked up both their souls a bit to make them
smarter, then he got the old one to read other stuff, just to
compare. Bucky Fuller, Rudy Rucker, Jim Randi, Ilya Prigogine,
Hans Moravec, Phil Jennings, and other rationalBLATTTs and
scientBLATTTs, and THEN R.A.W. It was two days before they got
down to it. Tung's funny that way.
"But... But it's so DUMB!"
"You're just seeing it from ONE reality-tunnel. All reality-
tunnels are equally valid and invalid. It may seem illogical to
you, but maybe not to someone else."
"So? I GOT that part. The point is he's far too narrowminded
for his own good. I mean, this business about nonlocal
connections, neural circuits... It's so FUZZY. He doesn't explain
how he thinks it works, he doesn't explain the quantum-mechanical
principles behind it, he completely IGNORES Superstring theory,
which would completely explain all the things he wonders about..."
"But the Thinker and the Prover... Whatever your Thinker
thinks, your internal Prover will PROVE! You can't use normal
science to describe it, when ALL things are true!"
"You're brainwashed. That's Orr's Law, 'member? But over the
long run, our science approaches truth."
"But how do you explain all those UFO sightings he talked
about?"
"The inner core of the brain has far more processing power
than the outer shell. It has enough interconnections and neurons
to be able to function in parallel instead of serially. So it can
make an external map of an internal event, caused by nonlocal
Superstring behaviour."
"Huh?"
"Never mind."
The logic was never settled out. The conclusion was that
either Robert Anton Wilson had a pipeline into Absolute Truth, or
he was full of shit.
Or both. There may not be a difference.
The amoral of the story is, never do a direct hack of your
soul to make yourself smarter unless you know exactly what you're
doing. Cause Tung didn't.
P.S.: He forgot to give his brother's body back.
Chapter Four: Bugs
One of the things Tung II came across when his new-self made
him read stuff in order to have an inconclusive argument was stuff
by Phillip Jennings, Hans Moravec, even Eric Drexler, that went far
beyond "BOB" Wilson. And even that was just the beginning stuff.
The mind can't really be dBLATTTinguished from a computer any
more than anything else can. Everything is behaving in ways that
are completely dictated by the laws of nature. Even if they're
laws of nature we don't know yet, they're still there, making
things tick along, completely unlike clockwork. A computer, with
constantly varying inputs and outputs, with the flux of light or
electrons, balancing out, or a neural-net system, with constantly
mutually-adjusting bias systems, is a perfect model of ANYTHING in
the physical world. Everything is a model of everything else,
because all change is isomorphic.
So, why not put the brain in a computer?
Separation by-parts!
This is HOW you read the Soul, the Mind, the Brain. At least
until you learn enough to do it more efficiently. This is the
Model-T of mind-transfer.
Take Drexler's nanomachines, let them gradually figure out
what each neuron in the brain is doing, one by one if necessary...
After all, with the nano-computers being less than the size of the
nucleus, they can devote massive power to just figuring out the
charge balances and chemical functions of each and every single
cell while hiding inside.
As the nano-pooters figure it out, the assembler nanites
replace the cell's function with their own constructs. They can
keep it fed with chemicals as long as it needs it... that's what
they're best at, manufacturing complex chemicals. All it has to do
is mimic the electrical properties and PRETEND to be a cell.
But when every cell in the brain is gone, and replaced by
something PRETENDING to be a neuron... Why bother with this
chemical stuff? String some optical lines between them and have a
rapid transfer of info... They can simulate everything that WOULD
be happening, but much faster. Sounds like a computer, but there's
been no point where anything has changed. At least functionally.
So BLFFFFT! to you people who thought the brain had to be
chemical.
So what about that DNA-RNA-mind feedback that people keep
talking about? Not a problem. Keep a record of the DNA in the
cell's little nano-pooter, on backup, and let it simulate what
happens when the RNA talks to it. It may turn out to be important,
so we may as well leave it there. If we can believe the wild
speculations of Leary (and, of course, Wilson), it's the Sixth
Neural Circuit. No, really.
Anyway, once you've got all this, you just put it in "pause"
mode (like going to sleep, but more complete: it won't hurt, and it
can't kill you) and read off all the "cells" into a computer. A
real futurBLATTTic, massively high-tech affair using nanochips and
optical stuff, or maybe some kind of subatomic thingumy. Once
it's in there, you can start looking for shortcuts.
Cause there's always shortcuts. The human brain was not
designed for absolute BEST solutions. It's just a collection of
"good enough" engineering. Evolution works by natural selection of
the best at any given time until the general population is "good
enough" that it doesn't make THAT much of a difference, and then
stops. The same thing happens over and over, so we've got lots of
sloppy engineering in the brain because circumstances were never
severe enough to make it get any better. (Basically, the hardware
sucks donkeys.)
When you've got the brain as a giant data-file of neurons, how
they work, how they interconnect, and stuff like that, noticing
that you STILL haven't changed anything from what it was when it
was a pile of organic grey-cell mush, 90% of which has nothing to
do with thinking, but rather cell-maintenance and genetics and
stuff... you cut down on redundancy. Well, like you've got your
entire DNA pattern in there about 50 billion times: one for each
cell. So you cut out all but one, and stick in POINTERS for when
you need more than one copy running. And, like you've got lots of
cells with separate info, taking up lots of room explaining what it
all means in EVERY CELL. So you make a table of the data. And a
lBLATTT of connections. You could probably cut it down to less
than one percent of one percent of... and so forth, just by doing
that. So now you've got a teeny-weeny program, and a WHOLE FUCKING
LOT of data to make it run. At least by today's standards. With
maybe 10K of info per cell (worst case), that still makes somewhere
in the vicinity of 10 to the 14th bits. A fair chunk. Like, say,
about a tenth the size of the Library of Congess in the U.S.A.
Which is big.
But I'll betcha you don't need that much per cell. The
electrical sensitivity of each cell is at MOST 100 bits to digitize
the analog value for maximum sensitivity, right? I mean, more than
that and it doesn't ACTUALLY make a difference. And the chemical
stuff can be cut out by redundancy checks. Say all of the cells'
info makes 10 to the 12th bits, plus coding up the RNA and things
in the brain. Say 10 to the 13th bits, before optimizing. After
optimizing, a tiny fraction of that size. Because a lot of that
information is redundant.
Just like programs on a modern computer can be compressed down
to maybe 60% of their size, and still run effectively (with a
compression algorithm that lets them self-extract while running, or
some such thing). Only trying to talk about the mind by detailing
the operation of EVERY CELL and how they all connect, that's SOOO
redundant. You can start chunking things up into groups, and even
if you lose some detail in the chunking, all the overlap between
the groups would let you run backwards to get what you had before.
But as we learn more and more about how the mind works, we start
throwing out stuff we find we don't ACTUALLY need.
I figure you could get the program down to 100 Gigabytes if
you really tried, and KNEW what you were doing. That's the mind,
the soul, not including all the memories. But then, in the real
mind, memories are grouped together anyway, stored in association
patterns. The program has incredibly sophBLATTTIcated algorithms
for uncrunching them from overlaps. When you go to remember
things, you don't really pull it out from archives, you more DEDUCE
IT from the various ways it's affected the program. So it's hard
to tell.
Somewhere around that size anyway.
The result is a program that IS your mind. Or as close as you
can come without actually cut-and-pasting.
If you believe in the metaphysical soul, it's really hard to
see WHERE in this process you'd lose the damn thing. Maybe in the
transfer to the computer? Well, make it a smooth transition, by
swapping out to a remote control of the pretend-cell by the
computer, until it has all of them, and then a smooth transition
from the big loop to a straight path inside. We can smear all
these sharp lines into grey regions if we want.
Thing is, people just aren't USED to thinking of themselves as
abstract mathematical patterns, yo ho ho? But if you try, you can
smear from one to the other without establishing any clear dividing
line. That doesn't mean you ARE one, just that there's no CLEAR
difference. It's all physics anyway, right?
When will this technology be available to the general public?
Well, scope out Hans Moravec's Mind Children for more detail, but
generally I figure by 2050 the whole shebang should be easily
possible. With great difficulty before that, yeah. Like, for a
MASSIVE government sponsored project, we may be able to do it by
2020, but on the whole, WHY BOTHER? If mind-transfer gear will be
available to the public for maybe a month's salary (by today's
standards) in 2050, why not just wait?
These computer-brains are what Phil Jennings called "bugs".
In tiny insectoid bodies, computer brains... Wouldn't you?
Chapter Three: Future Stuff
All of this is just simple projection from current technology,
going ahead into the future a bit. By the time all that happened,
they'll be looking back on this as EITHER prophetic and profound,
OR stupid and primitive. Or else it will never happen at all, and
they'll just think we were dumb not to realize why not.
But what with nanotechnology and space exploration increasing
wealth incredibly (see Ann O'Nymous's chapters elsewhere in the
Book O' MOO), and other fine stuff happenin' all over the place,
everyone should be able to afford a GNU body by then. The whole
influx-of-wealth thing.
But if we're all getting richer, assuming all this happens at
all, why stop there? If you're mind is going into a computer
anyway, why just leave it as it is? Why not make a few judicious
twiddles as it goes through? Like, say, increase the number Glial
Cells (which feed the neurons) in your brain by a factor of 100.
When they dissected Einstein's brain, they found he had more Glials
than the average person by a factor of about 5. The extra food to
the neurons did the trick. Or why not make your simulated neurons
hook together more efficiently in the outer layers of the brain,
which currently are VERY badly designed, because they only have 100
000 years of evolution going for them. Combine the whole shebang,
right? Instant IQ 5000 or more. Prospective lifespan almost
infinite, in this GNU synthetic body.
Don't like the idea? Well, you don't have to do it, right?
Nobody's forcing you, and your kind will either die out, or
continue on as you always have. The rest of us will probably live
in space anyway. By the time 2050 rolls around, the current trend
to space (two steps forward, one step back) will have brought
enough people to near-Earth orbit that the GNU "bugs" will prefer
it out there anyway.
How widespread will it get? In the 1930's, Television was
invented. By the 1960's, everyone in North America had seen one,
and most of them owned one. By the 1990's, everyone in the world
have been affected by the phenomenon, and most people in North
America and Europe can't live normally without one. Automobiles
swung into mass-production in the 1920's. By the 1950's, most
NorAm/Europeans owned one, and the phenomenon was beginning to have
an effect on the environment and the landscape, and by the 1980's,
the effect on the environment was almost disastrous, and many
NorAm/European families owned two.
It takes 60 years for a phenomenon to grow from GNU Thing to
Old thing. One generation to grow up with it, and one generation
to grow up with PARENTS who grew up with it. So by 2110, will most
NorAm/Euros have TWO bug bodies?
But what about everyone else in the world? What about
abolishing poverty? What about world hunger?
Without those human bodies to feed (we can even use our old
throwaway bodies for fertilizer for crops), we can turn North
America into a giant farm to feed everyone else. With that giant
influx of riches from space, poverty will be at an end. This whole
NorAmEuro thing will end, and the REST of the world can join us.
But with faster thinking minds, and more data available...
Will it take all of 60 long years anymore? With no biological
bodies to reproduce with, and no old-fogeys dying off, will it take
so SHORT?
Hard to judge. But the people who DO IT, the people who go
bug, they'll be the kind who like GNU things. The kind who don't,
they'll stay behind on Earth anyway. With bug brains, this whole
neophobia thing might eventually get edited out. Things will speed
up a lot.
The move to space has hBLATTTorically caused GNU Circuits to
imprint on astronauts. A holBLATTTic imprint, the fifth circuit of
Leary? That's the HolBLATTTic-Neurosomatic Circuit, right? So
astronauts get a holBLATTTic imprint on the nearest object, the
Earth, the same way those famous little baby ducks got a "Mother"
imprint on the ping-pong ball, or whatever the experimenter chose.
Same thing going into a bug body. It fundamentally changes your
outlook on things. You take a holBLATTTic imprint on your GNU
brain, the "computer". No longer a clunking vacuum-tube image, the
GNU imprint conjures up an almost mystical vision of swirling light
and atoms inside the thing.
Computer brains. Join now, or be forever left behind.
Chapter Two: Data Stack Overflow Error
2000 years ago, at the beginning of the Pagan ChrBLATTT dating
system, or in 132747 according to the rational Penguin Dating
system, the total amount of information known or recorded to the
human race was, call it, oh, say, X.
It wasn't until FIFTEEN HUNDRED YEARS later that 2X had been
discovered or learned. The next doubling took a sixth the time,
250 years: 4X. Then in 150 years, 8X (all the time rampaging
Westwards a great deal slower than a jumbo jet or a savage herd of
rabid buffalo, but a lot faster than your average hair-growth,
which is something like a meter in five or ten years). Another
150, and 16X were hanging around North America. In 50, and 32X had
shuffled off to Buffalo. Or rather, somewhere west of Buffalo.
Then it took 10 years for 64X, seven more for 128X, and six more
for 256X. Pretty soon it hit its stride at about doubling twice
every five years or so. Wow, eh?
Of course, most of that information is pretty damn useless
records, like the fact that Bill Q. Schexnayder, on the 13th of
January, 135557, did willfully and with intent to buy a MacDonald's
hamburger, charge $2.56 to his American Express Gold Card. But
even so, lots of it is useful, valuable information, like this.
But with all those "unanswered questions" out there, like
those people who say "we have no idea how the brain works", when
that's just plain wrong, or people who think "scientBLATTTs just
DON'T UNDERSTAND how the universe was created AT ALL", when that's
even LESS correct... It's not ignorance or stupidity, or even
willfull pigheadedness. It's just that there's too much
information out there for anyone to be able to corelate. And
corelating the info is the most important part of being able to
figure out the answers.
That's where bug bodies come in. With a big enough brain for
hardware, custom-built for just pennies by cheap nano-assemblers,
and a little tweaking of your intelligence by a handy software knob
in your head (so you can optimize your smarts for whatever hardware
you're running on), you can make yourself smart enough to learn
EVERYTHING there is to know. At least now, anyway. But the faster
people corelate, the faster things double. You may never be able
to catch up completely, but with special programs designed to
filter out only the important stuff, and eliminate redundancy, you
can come pretty darn close. Especially if you keep getting smarter
and smarter at the speed computers are doing today. Or even
faster, since there'll be more money, smarter designers, cheaper
technology... And with smarter designers making themselves better
brains, we may well be able to keep up with ourselves.
The postbiological world may be complex, but you can be pretty
fucking sure we're not going to let it get away from us, like we
did to the biological world. We just barely escaped from nuclear
and/or environmental catastrophe, and we STILL haven't escaped from
poverty and/or hunger, which is threatening half the world's
population RIGHT NOW! But we will. We'd better.
We won't let THAT happen again.
Chapter One: Postbiological Life
What will life be like in a postbiological world?
1) The salad will be much better.
Since all food will be simulated, we will be able to run
analyses to determine, for each person, which salad will please
them the most.
2) Sex will be a smaller part of life.
Not because sex will be any less important. Probably the
reverse, what with everyone being mentally able to know every other
person in the world, split into many different people, "get to
know" all of them at once, in more ways than us mere biological
beings can possible imagine, what with having only five basic ways
of doing it. It's just that our life will become so much vaster,
so much MORE to it, that proportionally, sex will be a minuscule
part of our lives. We will probably find even MORE interesting
things to do.
3) We'll FINALLY Meet The Aliens.
We suspect the reason we haven't met any yet is because
they've all gone Postbiological. When we're on the same level with
them (at least vaguely), we'll be able to interact. Of course,
they'll be so far beyond us, they'll hardly be recognizable. As we
get better and better computers, we'll be moving our minds farther
and farther down the scale of SpaceTime, towards the SuperStrings.
If we finally transcend that barrier (project this around the 23rd
century, if everything goes as we've been suggesting) where the
universe is inside every point of itself, inside every loop of
curled spacetime, we'll meet every race who's ever done this before
us, omnipresent (they're inside every point in the universe),
omnipotent (they can emerge anywhere and affect quantum waves),
omniscient (their immense intellect can see everything in the
universe), and benign (we know this from the empirical fact that
they haven't killed us off yet). The communication between
individuals is so complete, they will seem to be one enormous mind.
4) Life goes on.
On Earth, everyone who didn't join us, everyone who lacked
faith that their souls would be accurately recorded, will keep
going on as they always did. With all the "cream skimmed off the
top", that is, everyone with a pro-technology bias gone to be a
space bug, technological civilization will collapse. Since most of
the population will have gone, they'll go back to an agricultural
society, and have to evolve back some pro-tech people in a few
thousand years down the line, and go through this whole thing all
over again. Odds are they'll destroy any record of what we went
through before they let their descendants go on with life. Since
we'll have taken our industry with us to space to avoid polluting
the Earth, the clock will basically be set back ten thousand years.
5) Click, start over.
The bugs basically vanish from the picture in the 23rd
century, after a period of collecting together somewhere to save on
speed-of-light problems. After about 2125, the Solar System should
seem very much like it did in 2125 BC.
The End Of The Books Of Salad
And Now An Unscheduled Chapter
Hi. I'm an anonymous non-denominational "ChrBLATTTian". I'm
not really much for the Jesus guy. I kinda like that Puerto-Rican
Voodoo-Surfer thing, actually. But I guess you could call me a
Bible Prophecy nut. I don't know much about this MOO thing, or the
Salad, but this guy wanted me to proofread this Salad book, and I
couldn't resBLATTT asking to write a few paragraphs for it. This
won't take a page, really.
See, that last part, Part One: Logic... That bit kinda got my
interest. The last few chapters looked an awful lot like the
Prophecy of the Rapture. In the Last Days, when all these various
signs and things shall come to pass, all believers will be lifted
into the heavens to dwell with God, see?
Well, modern technology, politics, and other things, have been
bringing about Bible Prophecy left, right, and center. The
politics in Europe are bringing about the Ten Nations requirements
of lots of prophecies. The cashless society and the GNU microchips
being used for money are obviously the Mark Of The Beast. War and
natural disaster are increasing all the time. Just as the Bible
predicted they would, thousands of years ago. And back then, they
had no way to predict the Mark Of The Beast technology.
And now this Rapture thing? We rise up into the heavens, just
as it says, leaving the unbelievers and the unfaithful behind.
Just as it says. We dwell in the kingdom of God. We become like
lesser angels to an omnipresent, all-seeing, all-knowing, all-
powerful, all-benevolent God. Because we won't have joined fully
into the unity for a while. And sex to an Angel, such as we will
be, is nothing, as it will be to us.
And this God is just like the Bible's God. Time is nothing to
it, because it exBLATTTs in every point in space and time. "A
thousand ages in thy sight..." God is everywhere and everywhen.
This can hardly be a coincidence. All of these connections must be
more than MERE coincidence. I'll tell you what I think.
As the bugs move into the Kingdom Of God (that Superstring
thing), and get able to move in time, they carry the message of the
Prophecy and the Word of God back through time to their
descendants, so that these things might all come to pass. The
authors said it would be to make "Neophiles" evolve, because they
don't like the religion that forms around it? It seems a little
suspicious to me.
But the point is simple. All true ChrBLATTTians would not
object to making this transformation. The prophecy of the Rapture
is coming to pass very soon, and, as we should have expected, God
does not make things simple for believers. We ourselves have to
work towards it. We have to exercise the free will God gave us in
order to ascend to the Heavens and join the Kingdom of God.
All I ask is that you think about this. And consider how much
of the Bible makes sense when seen in this light. Please think
about it. APPENDIX VI
as written by
Preest Jeffrey Morton
FORENOTE:
This here being a serious plea unto the people of Earth in
general and the Holy Church of The Grate MOO in particular. "BOB"
has revealed these words to make it absolutely clear that there is
a Massive Conspiracy afoot, despite the Fact that there Isn't.
Jehovah-1 has not released these words, due to the fact that
he doesn't exBLATTT, that he is a small Penguin in the Antarctic
with an IQ of 7457856, and is therefore not inclined to release
such trivial words, and that they aren't true anyway. This is
actually a pigment (no, not a figment...) of Jeff's deranged
imagination, the entire (remaining) contents of his only book.
Although Jeff has jealously guarded these words from others,
by placing on them an evil and most Bungicious Spell, called the
Spell of Copyright, by the incantation of the Shannon Spell this
evil work has been Dis-Spelled, enabling us to repeat all of his
work. MOAH HAH HAH HAH!
For those who are interested, the Shannon Spell goes like
this:
[Chant to the tune of "OMM, OMM, OMM your boat"]
Information Is The Inverse Of Probability...
Ess Equals Kay Logg Double-Ewe...
Therefore...
No Information ExBLATTTs Outside Itself...
MOO
OMM
Copying Is Impossible...
For Only Probability Makes Information...
Therefore...
This Has Not Been Copied...
MOO
OMM
After reciting these words, the Annoying Mind Drug was hacked
up into little bits, and some bits were tossed as confetti at the
Rocky Horror Picture Show. This ritual performed, we were able to
use a probability amplifier (called a WomBLATTTic Inducer, for no
good reason other than that it sounded good at the time) to pull
out random fragments of the remaining confetti and assemble some
words.
Therefore, we are not liable to lawsuit because, well, aw,
screw this, we're not, okay? "BOB" was the victim of a deluded guy
who thought he ran a Publishing Company, and who subsequently
slapped a big COPYRIGHT on the thing when "BOB" wasn't looking.
The Great MOO has instructed us to ignore this fact and pretend it
wasn't there
This also enabled us to edit it shamefully, like making it
more ErBLATTTic, and BLATTTifying it (Or GrATTTifying, if you like,
but "BOB" didn't seem to) and even throwing in totally gratuitous
footnotes.
Or maybe it was that this is an Ancient Atlantean text which
bears a passing resemblance to the Annoying Mind Drug written by
Jeffrey Morton, through no fault of ours... Sorry about the
similarity, guys...
Anyway...
Without Further Ado... Here Is The Annoying Mind Drug...
Annnnnnny moment now... Praise For Jeffrey Morton
Censorship Of Form And Substance
"A book of major importance to the future of civilization in a free
world. I only wished it was longer, I was so absorbed."
-The GNU York Times Book Review
"A . . . [great] book."
-Skeptical Review
"An ambitious work by an ambitious author. His skill at crafting
the subtleties of form and content eluded me . . . I wish I'd read
it . . . for longer."
-The Lazy Reviewer
"A remarkable exploration of the depths to which censorship has
infiltrated [our] society, and the ways in which messages may be
conveyed without content. I loved this book's . . . ending."
-The London Times Book Section
"Neat."
-Alvin's Late Nite Review
"Censorship is going to make a big impression. I don't know when
I've seen a book this important . . . . since Crime And
Punishment!"
-*** ******** ******
"It's time someone wrote this book! I'm glad Morton wasn't the one
to do it."
-George Bush
"[A] . . . [fine] book . . ."
-Pentagon Book Review
Also By Jeffrey Morton:
Military Intelligence and other Oxymoronic Idimoms
(CENSORED BY THE U.S. MILITARY INTELLIGENCE)
Book Without Body
Is There Life After Birth?
Ravings Of A Deranged Philosopher
Nonsense And Other Necessities
Who SAID There's No Such Thing As A Free Lunch?
Also Reprinted By Gecko Press:
My Life In A Walnut Tree by Rudy Himmelmann
Crimean Punishment by Vladimir Lenin
Leo Tolstoy by C. Rime and P. U. Nishment
Heart Of The Wombat by Gregg Bennford and Dave Brine
Self Defense And Alien Space Weapons by Perry Noyd
Mutterings by Larry Kole
Mumblings by Alex Kole
Murmurings by Fred Kole
Stammerings by Albert Kole-Shute
Gecko Press Edition
Censorship Of Form And Substance
A Gecko Press Book, Published by arrangement with
Geeko Press International, Geeko Falls NY.
PRINTING HBLATTTORY
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April 2 1992
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July 13 1998
April 4 2406
Gecko Press Editions
April 5 2406
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July 17 2412
April 8 2820
All Rights reserved, except the right to reserve all rights
except the right to reserve most rights other than the right used
to reserve all rights but this one.
Copyright 1992 by Geeko Press International
This book may not be reproduced by photocopy, modem,
verbal recital, memories, photographs, telephone, vision,
understanding, comprehension, or any other means
For Information address:
Geeko Press International
1 1st Street NY, NY, 10023
ISBN 0-4353-5748399-XXX
Published almost simultaneously in Canada, the USA,
the CIS, Czechoslovakia, Hungary,
and of course, Venezuela
THE CONTENTS OF THIS VERSION OF THIS BOOK HAVE BEEN CLEARED
BY THE UNITED STATES MILITARY INTELLIGENCE
(AND BY THE PENTAGON) CONTENTS
CONTENTS Page 1
INTRODUCTION 2
Section 1: Censorship Of Form 3
Chapter 1: Censoring Newspapers 3
Chapter 2: Censoring Books 28
Chapter 3: Censoring Television 45
Chapter 4: Censoring Radio 67
Chapter 5: Censoring Thought 95
Chapter 6: Censoring Speech 120
Section 2: Censorship of Substance 143
Chapter 7: Censoring Science 143
Chapter 8: Censoring Art 170
Chapter 9: Censoring Literature 186
Chapter 10: Censoring Satire 206
Chapter 11: The Other Point Of View 276
Section 3: HBLATTTory Of Censorship 277
Chapter 12: Censorship Before Cities 277
Chapter 13: Pre-ChrBLATTTian Censors 333
Chapter 14: Pre-Columbian Censors 381
Chapter 15: Censors In The Americas 415
Section 4: Form And Substance 565
Chapter 16: What is Form? 565
Chapter 17: What is Substance? 573
Chapter 18: Why the DBLATTTinction? 591
Chapter 19: How To Censor Form? 621
Chapter 20: How To Censor Substance? 632
ENDNOTES 703
EPILOGUE 710
BIBLIOGRAPHY 715
INDEX 721 CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Other Point Of View
In the course of criticizing censorship, we must, of course,
pause to think about the other point of view. Certainly, if I were
simply to look at one side of the issue, while ignoring the other,
I would be guilty of the HEINOUS crime of censorship of an opinion,
and also of a great hypocrisy.
Therefore, I turn my attention to the ornery and nigh-on
impossible task of justifying censorship in some circumstances.
Firstly, I must say that any people who would censor anything
must be justified in their own eyes, or else they wouldn't attempt
to do it in the first place. So, in the spirit of openmindedness,
not putting down any individual point of view, we should allow this
opinion to have its fair share of this book. Thus, this chapter.
Let us try to put ourselves in the frame of mind of someone in this
position and see why such horrendous deeds are perpetrated.
First, the argument of stability. Surely, says that criminal
against humanity, the censor, our illustrious society must be
preserved exactly as it is, without any form of change, or anarchy
and destruction will result. Therefore, any books which promote
thinking in GNU ways, incite revolution, or otherwise work to
change society must be banned.
Secondly, the argument of intolerance. If you dislike a
certain group, say for a ridiculous example, people whose last
names begin with "D", you would be likely to be tempted towards
censoring all forms of expression those poor people try to muster,
such as books, music, etcetera.
Thirdly, the argument of secrecy. If you are trying to
prevent a secret from becoming known, for motives good, bad, or
ugly, you will try any means at your disposal to stop the
publishing of a book which announces that secret to the world.
Obviously, this can be good or bad. The secret might well be
harmful if known, and so it might be well to keep it hidden. On
the other hand, one must consider who should be the judge of what
is harmful. It might be better to just let all the facts be known
and let the truth sort itself out. Or maybe not.
Fourth and most convincing, the argument of hate literature.
You might find someone publishing hate literature against (say)
people whose names begin with "C", and try to stop them.
Censorship might even seem reasonable in this case. Maybe. ENDNOTES
1 The problem involved with editing of newspapers clearly
were the factors responsible. However, it should be noted that
without the initial pressure from the Chilean government, these
tangled heirarchies of editorial conflict would never have emerged.
[Nonsense, of course, but nevertheless a valiant argument proposed
by the author: while the conclusion is patently wrong, the
arguments are apparently quite convincing. -The Editors] In this
case, it has been suggested that the Chilean government's ATTEMPT
at censorship was at fault. [Again, the author has reached a
blatantly false conclusion: this editor has determined that the
Chilean Government had nothing to do with the attempted sabotage by
militant opponents of the editorial staff. Purely intellectual
arguments were involved.]
2 Obviously, censorship of thought is virtually impossible,
since determinging which neuronal pathways correspond to which
memory triggers and semantic signals is a tremendously elaboate
detasking process. [The editors suggest readers ignore the
author's futile attempt at using fancy words to make it sound as if
he knows what he's talking about: language-stuffing is a tool of
communBLATTT running-dogs.]
3 The key problem has been in arriving at a reasonable
definition of any of these terms. "Art" has proved the most
elusive word to define, since what may be art to some can be pure
garbage to another, in the most literal sense. [Some might suggest
that it was garbage anyway, regardless of what anyone thought while
creating it. The author has failed to consider this point of
view.] This is, perhaps, akin to censoring thought, since art is
in the eye of the beholder. Here is where the line between form
and substance is blurred. [Again, the author is attempting to
cover up for his fuzzy thinking. It is clear to the editors that
form and substance are two types of the same thing, and the
argument is bunk. Get a life, author!]
NOTE: Remaining endnotes were lost during a fire in the
editor's office during publication. We apologize for the
inconvenience. However, most of them were stupid anyway, as the
author scored over 98th percentile on the Snidely-Pierce losertest
anyway. BIBLIOGRAPHY
Aaron, Rupert Moss, ed. Censors of the Mind. Bedford Falls NY:
Buntam Books, 1983. A classic work on the nature of the mind and
its own censors in nature.
Anders, John. Form And Matter. Anders Falls NY: Geeko Press
International, 1965. A book dealing with the nature of Form versus
the nature of Substance, describing the essential differences and
similarities.
Atlas, Alexandra. *************. Smeggy Falls NY: Quirrl Books,
1976. A book dealing with
---. Redundancy and Censorship. Smeggy Falls NY: Quirrl Books,
1975 . A book confronting redundancy as examples of censorship of
original thought. Uses the works of Alan Hansard as central
evidence.
Avalon, Roberta. Censorship In The Pre-Columbian Era. Smeggy
Falls NY: Quirrl Books, 1974. A book on the censors active in
pre-Columbian America, the Aztecs, Incas, and Mayans.
---. -----------------. Smeggy Falls NY: Quirrl Books, 1978. ---
------------------------------.
---. PreColumbian Censorship. Smeggy Falls NY: Quirrl Books,
1981. A third book on Pre-Columbian censorship.
Bat, Otto Hal, ed. Fleeing Censors. Ugly Falls NY: Ugly Falls
Books, 1951. A hBLATTTory of minds struggling to leave areas
affected by censorship.
Bat, Otto Hal. CENSORED BY THE MILITARY. Ugly Falls NY: Ugly
Falls Books, 1963. CENSORED BY THE MILITARY.
Buddford, Barbara B. Thought Patrol. Skunk Falls NY: Skunk
Press, 1985. A book dealing with the future of allowable thoughts
in our increasingly repressive society.
---. Rat Race. Skunk Falls NY: Skunk Press, 1986. The follow-up
to Thought Patrol, Miss Buddford deals with the reactions of people
in a heavily censored society.
---. Operation Mind Crunch. Skunk Falls NY: Skunk Press, 1987.
A look at the conspiracy to suppress ideas about
Egston, Milton. Nonsense and Noncensors. Albuquerque Falls NY:
Rag Time Publications, 1957. A provocative examination of the
notion that only nonsense is totally free from censors, and only by
failing to convey any information can communication go unmolested. ---. Insubstantive Evidence. Albuquerque Falls NY: Rag Time
Publications, 1961. Another work on the notion that only
communication lacking substance can be uncensored, and that
censored material lacks substance.
---. You Censor Me, Sir? Albuquerque Falls NY: Rag Time
Publications, 1963. The tour-de-force of Milton Egston, in which
he seeks to demonstrate the impossibility of censorship. Banned in
the USA.
Feldman, Ivo. What Happened To The Ds? Wunga Wunga Falls NY:
Lark Press, 1991. A strange and compelling account of missing
authors.
Fentiman, June. GNU York Censorship. Athabaska Falls NY:
Athabaska Books, 1979. Tales of censorship of Broadway, the GNU
York Times, and other famous GNU York institutions. Told in
narrative style.
Fezik, Ahmed. Early Suppression. Gnubluktuk Falls NY: Glub Press
International, 1955. Suppression of knowledge during the periods
spanning Early Babylonia to the Roman Empire are covered in this
comprehensive book.
Gecko, Floyd. Censor? WHAT CENSOR? Topeka Falls NY: Topeka
Books, 1988. A semi-lucid and highly eccentric monograph on
tabloids as refutation of censorship. A clear case of a good hard
knock on the head.
Gunn, B. B. Bang Bang Pow Pow. Cowboy Falls NY: Shootem Books,
1984. A book.
Guppy, Shark N. Big Fish, Little Fish. Guppy Falls NY: Random
House, 1977. A lengthy diatribe against the "big fish" companies
who allegedly plot against smaller enterpreneurs using censorship
of advertisements. Another good argument against allowing "G"s
into writing.
---. Stop Picking On Me. Shark Falls NY: Random Choice, 1987.
Guppy's first book after his mysterious ten-year disappearance. A
short pamphlet describing attempts by the U.S. Military to censor
entire people.
Hankley, Bertha Q. Censorship and the Scientific Method.
MethodBLATTT Falls NY: MethodBLATTT Books, 1951. Dr. Hankley's
profound and interesting treatise on censorship of science, and the
impossibility of censoring knowledge. Banned in the USA.
Hansard, Alan. Stuffing Nonsense. Guppy Falls NY: Guppy Press,
1976. A work, very similar to the central works of Milton Egston,
suggesting that censorship is impossible because only
noninformation can be suppressed. ---. Stuffing Nonsense 2. Guppy Falls NY: Guppy Press, 1978. A
work, very similar to the central works of Alan Hansard, suggesting
that censorship is impossible because only noninformation can be
suppressed.
---. Stuffing Nonsense 3. Guppy Falls NY: Guppy Press, 1980. A
work, very similar to the central works of Alan Hansard, suggesting
that censorship is impossible because only noninformation can be
suppressed.
Hermann, Beatrice. Self Reference. Smeggy Falls NY: Quirrl
Books, 2997. Hermann suggests that self-reference, both direct and
indirect, is the primary cause of rejecting ideas on all levels.
---. Time Warps. Smeggy Falls NY: Quirrl Books, 1862. One of
the first books ever to suffest the exBLATTTence of time warps,
giving evidence from throughout hBLATTTory, not only of time warps,
of of a high-level cover-up of their exBLATTTence.
Hexton, Milly. Hypocrisy. Quirrl Falls NY: Smeggy Books, 1968.
Milly Hexton examines the attitudes of people thoughout hBLATTTory
in this monumental classic on Hypocrisy and self-contradiction,
tackling censorship, as well as self-reference as the basis of
intelligence.
Hofstadter, Douglas R. Metamagical Themas. GNU York (Falls) NY:
Basic Books, 1985. An unusual book dealing with all matters of
thinking and thought. His twBLATTTy and humourous bibliography is
one of the highlights, in which, among other things, he refers to
a single nonexBLATTTent book in a swarm of real books.
Huxley, Aldous. Brave GNU World. Quirrl Falls NY: Smeggy Books,
1913. Not the famous one, but a book of the same title by a
different author of the same name. The premise is also the same,
however, and the style is not noticeably different.
Iam, Sam. Dr. Seuss And Me. Bungy Jump Falls NY: Splatter Books,
1986. A revealing look at the hBLATTTory of evading censorship,
told in rhyming narrative. Reveals the ways in which such
hBLATTTorical figures as Yertle T. Turtle and Sam Iam masked true
meanings. Banned in the USA.
Infor, Mation. Claude Shannon. NY Falls NY: GNU Yorker Books,
1957. A study of the investigations of Claude Shannon, relating to
the problems of how much information is required to convey a
certain idea. Strange and convoluted arguments.
Jones, Keeping U. Rat Race. Smeggy Falls NY: Quirrl Books, 1988.
A homage to Barbara Buddford's book of the same name, suggesting a
GNU approach to Buddford's theme of modern Western mindset leading
to censorship. Kealy, Glenn. How I Tried To Sue The Government. Bungy Jump Falls
NY: Splatter Books, 1991. A story of censorship of the legal
system, and how the government evades legal charges.
Kuntz, Miguel. Life And Times Of Miguel Kuntz. Autobiography
Falls NY: Autobiography Press, 1987. THe story of Miguel Kuntz,
who had nothing to do with this topic, but led a very bawdy life.
Banned in the USA. And in the USSR.
Ladder, Jacob S. Visions. Bungy Jump Falls NY: Splatter Books,
1953. A clear account of censorship of thought from the earliest
times.
Lamperd, David. The Art Of Obfuscation. Mumble Falls NY:
Mbpmekdampmpm Press, 1990. A vague description of how people in
high ranking positions get around the freedom of information laws
by making their meanings unclear.
Letterman, Albert. Much Ado About Nothing. Albuquerque Falls NY:
Rag Time Publications, 1949. A refutation of the exBLATTTence of
censorship. Letterman's faulty premise is that if anything were
really important, nobody would censor it.
---. As You Like It. Albuquerque Falls NY: Rag Time
Publications, 1951. Another refutation of censorship, and the
"growing tide of liberalBLATT". Letterman suggests that though
nothing is really censored, nobody really needs to read more than
the Bible and a few other books anyway.
---. Confessions of a Cynic. Athabaska Falls NY: Athabaska
Press, 1972. A stunning revelation after twenty-three years of
bible-thumping, that Letterman was joking all along. Suggests that
censorship didn't seem to be a problem anyway, though. Confusing
and muddled.
Mation, Infor. Claude Shannon. Bungy Jump Falls NY: Splatter
Books, 1969. Yet another work on the researches of Claude Shannon,
discussing whether censorship is possible in a universe in which
information structures can exBLATTT.
Morton, Jeffrey. Censorship Of Form And Substance. Geeko Falls
NY: Geeko Press International, 1992. A confused and muddled work,
largely nonexBLATTTent, in which the author attempts to make some
kind of point. Exactly what the point is seems to be of little
importance, as the author satirizes censorship and plays with self-
reference. Heavily annotated bibliography. An ego-trip of a book.
Not worth reading. Banned everywhere.
---. The BugBook Chronicles. Geeko Falls NY: Geeko Press
International, 1991. A strange tale, partly fictional, of
censorship of entire universes. Banned everywhere. Banned twice
in the USA. Notte, Y. Ever. Needlessness. Topeka Falls NY: Topeka Falls
Press, 1987. A curiously titled book dealing with the reasons why
the second half of the alphabet is curiously under-represented in
final initials of names. Suggests a chilling conspiracy. Banned
a record of 97 times at once in the USA.
Orby, Richard von. Pre-ChrBLATTTian Censors. Albuquerque Falls
NY: Albuquerque Press, 1956. A study of the origin of censors in
Greek and Roman cultures.
---. ChrBLATTT as Censor. Albuquerque Falls NY: Albuquerque
Press, 1959. A curious and irreverent look at the true symbolic
nature of the books of St. John the Divine.
Principle, Peter. James H. Boren: Fact, Or Fiction? Smeggy Falls
NY: Quirrl Books, 1978. A curious study of bureaucracy in action,
and the inevitable loss of information by interoffice memos.
Quirrl, Smeggy F. Freedom Of The Press. Athabaska Falls NY:
Athabaska Press, 1985. A great book on the nature of publishing
and freedom of information. Published under unusual circumstances.
---. The Truth Behind Quirrl Books. Athabaska Falls NY:
Athabaska Press, 1987. A relatively stunning revelation about the
secret activities of one of the least known publishing companies in
the world. Cornerstone in the eventual collapse of Quirrl Books.
Robinson, Crusoe. How I Survived Seven Years On A Desert Island.
Smeggy Falls NY: Quirrl Books, 1971. A strange story about a
fictional character who writes a book about an author writing a
book about someone staggeringly simlar to the main character, not
unlike the author himself. A strange self-referential book.
Tackles problems of Form and Content in an amusing way.
Rime, C, and Nishment, P. U. Leo Tolstoy. Ugly Falls NY: Ugly
Press, 1978. One of the only books known to have written its own
author. Discussed thoroughly in the book "C. Rime And P. U.
Nishment" by Leo Tolstoy, and in the present work as an example of
Form vs. Substance.
Seuss, Dr. The One Book I Never Wrote. Smeggy Falls NY: Quirrl
Books, 1967. The only adult book written by Theorore Geisel, it
shows how to evade censorship by masking content in a different
form. Much like the present work, but shorter, with better rhymes,
and more pictures.
Tolstoy, Leo. C. Rime And P. U. Nishment. Smeggy Falls NY:
Quirrl Books, 1917. About persecution. One of the only books
known to have written its own author. Discussed thoroughly in the
book "Leo Tolstoy" by C. Rime and P. U. Nishment. Not to be
confused with "Crime And Punishment" by Fyodor Dostoevsky or
"Crimean Punishment" by Vladimir Lenin. Ulman, Anne T. Aunty Ulman. Skunk Falls NY: Skunk Press, 1989.
A narrative tale about family relations in a world full of
censorship.
von Lichter, Erich. U.F.O. Coverup! Big Cliff Falls NY: Big
Bluff Books, 1978. A huge book documenting the evidence of an
alleged U.F.O. coverup. A good argument for censorship.
Wyeth, Andrew. ChrBLATTTina's World. [CENSORED] Falls NY:
[CENSORED] Books, 19[CENSORED]. One of an ongoing series of
efforts to capture the substance of the same work in a variety of
formats. [CENSORED] in the USA.
Yu, Hei. Names. Styx Falls NY: Stonez Press, 1973. A curious
book about how we unconsciously censor meaning by lBLATTTening to
names.
Zeimann, Andrea. The Art Of Satire, The Satire Of Art. Bungy Jump
Falls NY: Splatter Books, 1956. A compendious tome about
satirical aspects of art. INDEX
MOOist Excuses
or, What We Did On Our Summer Vacation
or, Copyright? WHAT COPYRIGHT!?!?
(I don't see a copyright, do YOU see a copyright?)
Oh yeah, we forgot to mention at the beginning... The Book
of MOO may NOT be copyrighted, and therefore, we aren't stealing
from Jeffrey Morton... All of this is just a portion of its book
that happened to get plunked in here by accident, when all the Book
of MOO was being set out... It just sort of got whooshed in
through space and time by a wormhole. Yeah, that's it, a wormhole,
triggered by the accidental use of the High Preest's Wormhole
Hat...
We only mention this because the guy ain't Hip to the Meme
Propagation Model of True Thought, which means that no matter what
we do or say with his Annoying Mind Drug it only makes it stronger
and bigger, just like what the ChrBLATTTians used to say about the
devil. Umm, that comparison wasn't literal. Honest. Anyway. So
therefore, he's liable (or their publishers) to sue us...
That's the only reason all this is here.
Not to annoy you.
Honest.
Not even to take up space.
After all, this space isn't important.
It's not like TREES are dying to make this space.
Or this one.
Or even this one.
Unless this is the PRINTED COPY of the Book of MOO, in which
case whoever printed and/or Published it should be ashamed of
his/her/its/their/hir/woogy self of allowing this crap to sit here
when it was intended as a joke for the Electronic Medium ONLY, and
not as an excuse for murdering more innocent trees.
Honest. COW APPENDIX VII
as COWwritten by
High Preest Floyd GecCOWko
LEARNING TO
ÛßßßÜ ÛßßßÜ ÜßßÜ ßÛß ÛßÜ Û Û Û ÜßßÜ ÜßßÜ Û Û
Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û
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Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û
Û Û Û Û Û Û Û Û ßÜÛ Û Ü Û Û Û Û Û Û Û
ÛÜÜÜß Û Û Û Û ÜÛÜ Û ÛÛ ÛÜß ßÜÛ Û Û ßÜÜß Û Û
For the Aspiring Cult Leader
INTRODUCTION
So you want to be a cult leader do you? Or, at the very
least, you want to recruit lots more MOOists to serve you in some
strange MOOist version of serving. Fine. But, like every other
cult in hBLATTTory, you'll be needing to brainwash people. What,
you thought you joined of your own accord? So, I'll tell you how
to go about establishing a cult. This is so you can make a MOOist
"front"... Mostly we work in the open, but just to be confusing,
we like to have little GNU Age people working for us and pretending
not to, along with some of those "nasty, evil evil evil" cults that
pretend to be SatanBLATTTs but are actually MOOists wearing funny
costumes. I'll tell ya ALL about classic brainwashing stuff. And
in mighty long words, too.
Boy I use the damn things a lot, don't I?
Section One: Pavlovian Conditioning
As you probably recall, Pavlov was a Russian scientBLATTT who
was studying the bahaviour of dogs. In his experiments, among
other things, he measured salivation. What he did was this:
For the first little while, the dogs would hear a bell
ringing, and then be given some red meat to eat. Becuase of the
meat, they would begin salivating. Every day, just before meals
were given, Pavlov would ring the bell, and measure their
salivation. Soon, he began to take the meals away occasionally, or
ring the bell when there were no steaks around. Sure enough, the
dogs began to drool with the bell, long before the steaks had even
shown up, and even if they never did. So, Pavlov had caused the
dogs to associate the sound of the bell with the taste of meat. It
is this trick that allows you to train your dog to do tricks. By
giving them a reward (milk bone, pat on the head, scratch the
stomach) every time they do it right, they learn to associate doing
the trick right with getting a reward. This is what is known as
positive reinforcement. When the dog hears the command, he
anticipates the reward, and does the trick as you want.
However, when the reward is so ingrainedCOW in his mind as being
associated with the trick, he begins to accept doing the trick
correctly as a reward in itself. This very nicely eliminates the
need to keep training him with a reward, because his brain gives it
to itself when he does what you want him to do, thereby
conditioning himself every time you give the command. (Still, the
occasional "Good Boy Rex" helps keep it intact, particularly if he
associated "Good Boy Rex" with getting a milk-bone).
This is why some people, conditioned by our society, consider
that "doing the moral thing is a reward on its own". They have
been brought up such that they are always rewarded for doing the
right thing, and punished for doing the wrong thing. Usually, when
they reach teenage years, they begin to experiment and see how far
they can stretch the limits of what is right and wrong, and this
conditioning loosens a bit.
This kind of reward for doing the right thing is, as I said,
known as positive reinforcement. Positive reinforcement will
produce in people the kind of behaviour you want, but won't
eliminate the kind you don't. In order to do that, you have to
deliver a punishment for "doing it wrong". In the case of the dog,
you could yell "BAD" or something, which makes the dog scared, but
will soon cease, because he stops doing it. He learns to associate
the negative behaviour with getting yelled at (or in the case of a
poor trainer, getting hurt). But a good trainer shouldn't hurt the
trainee. Aside from the fact that it's cruel and mean and
generally not very nice at all, it doesn't work too well with
humans, as they tend to hit back. A dog won't hit back, because
it's a pack animal, and will blindly follow the most dominant
individual in it's immediate family.
That fact is due to imprinting, which I will be discussing
later on in this chapter. But back to conditioning.
So, when your hypothetical cult wants to convert a GNU member,
you have to give rewards for the right kind of thinking, and
punishment for the wrong kind of thinking. Since you are dealing
with human beings, you can use subtle kinds of reward and
punishment. A simple "VERY good" can be a very powerful tool in
the hands of someone whom the person looks up to, or even just
respects. Since humans can think about things, and make up things
out of their own minds, you don't have to be too harsh, unless
you're trying to produce a huge change of behaviour, when you're
giving the punishment.
Examples of subtle forms of pavlovian conditioning punishment
would include saying "No, no, you idiot. You've got it all wrong."
in a serious voice. This would have no effect at all on a dog, but
a person who is serious about wanting to earn your respect will
torture themself about it until they get it "right" and earn their
reward, when they will begin congratulating themselves on getting
it right.
However, the person will probably not want to earn your
respect if they perceive you as arbitrary and whimsical. So you
have to be consBLATTTent -- at least at first. Also, it is a good
idea to make sure the subject thinks of you as fair, and even kind.
If you, for instance, act once in a while as if you are about to
hit them, but control yourself, they get nearly as much effect from
the punishment, but also, because their mind is tense, afraid,
waiting to be hit, they're open to perceptions (fear and other
strong emotions prepare the mind for a GNU imprint which will be
accepted as much stronger, in proportion to how strong the emotion
is --more follows in the section on imprints.) The perception then
is that you're kind, and generous, but only to people you like.
They then want to get in on your good side.
Unfortunately, not all people begin by wanting to be on your
good side. If you were, for instance, trying to brainwash someone
into robbing a bank and killing people, when that's totally against
their personality, they will not accept what you say as being
important, and subtle forms of reward will not work. For
suggestions on what kind of rewards and what kind of punishment
will work with these people, see the section on the hBLATTTorical
cultBLATTT methods, and the next paragraph.
This form of conditioning is the basis of all brainwashing.
All forms of brainwashing consBLATTT of breaking down old patterns
of thought, the previous associations, and putting in GNU ones, as
well as trying to break down old imprints, and plant GNU ones.
Unfortunately, breaking down imprints is difficult, as we will see
in the next section. One famous organization that uses these
methods of brainwashing to take a group of widely varied
individuals, and turn them into a squad of robots, is, well, yes,
The Moonies, and the ScientologBLATTTs, but more important, the
U.S. Army. The Army's brainwashing sessions, though, are called by
a different name. They're known as "Basic Training", "Boot Camp",
or, in the marines, "Turning A Man Into A Marine".
The Armed Forces technique is simple, highly effective, and
quite easy to understand. They begin by abruptly lowering your
standard of living. The effect of this is to make simple things,
which nobody would normally think of as a reward, to have that
effect (such as "Well done, soldier"). As punishment, they use
simple physical punishments like a hundred pushups or eighty laps
around the track. The constant gruelling physical exercise makes
the subject weak, and unable to resBLATTT with any effectiveness,
as well as beginning to break down some imprints.
Section Two: Imprints
We've all seen the example of imprinting that's so famous.
It's those cute little ducklings, who imprint on their mother at
birth, but instead of imprinting on their mother, they imprint on
something else, such as a dog, human, rubber ball, etcetera.
This is the basic idea of what imprinting is. It is similar
to pavlovian conditioning, but it is virtually instant. It takes
only one occurence of punishment or reward (or whatever) to make an
imprint. The stimulus is not always punishment or reward, though.
When the ducklings imprint on the rubber ball, they're following a
natural instinct: to follow whatever moves and pretend it's their
mother. Usually the first thing they see when they hatch IS their
mother, and it works. But since a newly hatched baby duckling has
no previous experience, it doesn't know what it's mother should
look like. So nature gives it this instinct to imprint on the
first thing it sees that moves. Which is a problem if the mother
is dead.
Imprinting, then, is a natural instinct, by which we pick up
an immediate conditioning about something with which we have no
previous experience. While this can happen with almost anything,
there are only a few basic ones that exBLATTT throughout our
species.
To give an example, we will look briefly at the case of the
Poison Hollandaise Sauce. At one point, there was this batch of
bad Hollandaise Sauce, which was used by a certain restaurant. A
large number of people were poisoned, and became very ill, and many
had to have their stomachs pumped. Strangely, more than half of
them suffered the same effects the next time they ate Hollandaise
Sauce, even though there was nothing wrong. So you see, a single
occurrence made them conditioned to relate sauce with getting sick,
without any of this pavlovian mucking around.
Studies have shown that imprints are only formed or broken in
times of intense emotion or unusual GNU stimulus. Examples of
times when all members of the species would form an imprint: at
birth, during their first time having sex, when they first read
something, at death (only we never notice what it is). This has
led to the idea of four or five basic imprints that exBLATTT in our
minds and control a good deal of our personality. These relate to
(1) The Mother (2) Being Potty-Trained (3) Learning To Read (4)
First Having Sex and (5) any other violent incident.
These four main imprints are produced when the person goes
through a traumatic event (in the sense of causing change). When
they're first born, they imprint on the mother, and this affects
their relations to other people. The second occurs when they're
potty trained. This is the first time they are forced to be
rational or methodical about something (i.e. you can only go when
you're on the toilet, not when you're off). This is what Freud
called the Anal Stage of psychological development. People who are
obsessively or compulsively methodical usually have an unusually
strong second imprint, and Freud called them Anal Retentive. So do
most teenagers. The third imprint, first reading, affects the
intellectual nature of the person. If they're given an imprint
which suggests that reading is bad, they tend to neglect academic
pursuits. This affects how they think when they try to think
logically. The fourth imprint is formed when they first have sex,
probably when they first experience orgasm. The partner at the
time generally sets up the sexual preference for the rest of their
life, although it is obviously not permanently fixed.
All of these imprints, like the Hollandaise Sauce incident,
are formed by strong emotions, feelings, or stimuli. When trying
to brainwash people, it is very helpful to make one imprint on that
person which is based on the idea you're trying to implant in them.
This is why many ancient cults use fear during their process of
initiation, while others, of a different leaning, will invite the
initiate into a mass orgy. This overloading of the senses, by
fear, pain, or pleasure, opens them up for a GNU imprint, at which
point the instructor is at hand, along with other members of the
cult.
This technique is also used in brainwashing. A single moment
of terror can be more effective than months of conditioning.
Certainly it is the only "Quantum Leap" that you can expect. After
this moment, the imprint that is formed will often make the subject
want to get on your good side, making the techniques of pavlovian
conditioning effective.
Section Three: Cults, Meditation, and HBLATTTorical
Brainwashing
Modern brainwashing is hardly a GNU invention. Ancient cults
have been using conditioning and imprint methods during their
initiation rites for as long as religions have exBLATTTed. Even in
primitive Stone Age cultures in Europe, young boys would often be
sent into caves at night with the men to undergo some frightening
ordeal, after which he would end up as they wished.
In a now-extinct american indian tribe, a ritual known as the
O-Kee-Pa would be used to initiate braves to become warriors, and
imprint them by overloading them with pain. Generally they would
be starved for four days, then the medecine man would carve hunks
of flesh from their arms and chest, and they would be suspended by
wooden stakes driven through the gashes behind the muscles for a
day, then run around in circles until they dropped either from
exhaustion or death. Strangely, it was smallpox brought from
Europe that finally did in this hapless tribe, not male suicides.
The Indian cult of Kali Worship is a fairly typical example
of the progress through which an initiate must go to become a
member. Kali-Worship, also known as the Cult Of The Black Mother,
is actually, in its final form, much like the final form of any
other mystical religion, such as various forms of Yogic
practicies, or BuddhBLATT. When finally the initate works his way
through the ranks to become a Guru, he is taught that Kali is a
fiction, that all religion is false, and that enlightenment can
only come through meditation and moderation. But the initiate,
entering the Cult, would never deduce this to look at the temples.
Kali, the object of their worship, is presented to the initiate as
an evil force, who demands sacrifices, and death. Mass orgies are
held, and there are sects of the cult whose sole purpose is to kill
people. All of this is based on the principle of brainwashing.
By overloading the senses of the initiate, the cult members hope to
break down the imprints and conditioning of the subject, and then
build them back up again to their liking, ready to look for
enilghtenment peacefully, but firmly dedicated to that particular
religion.
ChrBLATTTianity, on the other hand, uses a firm morality and
threats of eternal punishment, coupled with very little reward,
that is more typical of the methods used by the Army. This kind of
system, while it can be more effective, if the teacher is well
versed in methods of brainwashing, rarely produces GNU converts or
joinups except those conditioned by our society to accept these
groups. This is why, when they have progressed to a certain point,
with previous conditioning broken down, the groups lose a lot of
members. Many people will go to church, but very few progress much
further than that.
Perhaps the most important aspect of a successful initiation
into a group, society, cult, or serious religion is the fact that
imprints must change. For this reason, some strong stimulus has to
occur at some point during the ceremony, ritual, or whatever. In
a ChrBLATTTian Church, this doesn't happen, but since most of those
in the church have grown up surrounded by this church, the imprints
required are already there, and breaking them down would be
counterproductive. However, in most other, less recognized
religions, the best form of intense emotion is fear.
Fear is good for this, not only because it is one of the
strongest emotions, but also because it is usually followed by a
Please Protect Me reaction, left over from childhood, when the kid
would run screaming "Mommy! Mommy!" at the sound of thunder
(Mother Imprint). So, the church, or group of people doing the
brainwashing, will replace that imprint, namely, the Mother
Imprint. This is why so many cultBLATTT joinups disregard their
families, regarding the church as more important. In almost every
cult or primitive culture, the test of initiation is marked by at
least one ordeal of fear. In each case, it is vital that the
subject honestly believes that he or she may be in danger of death.
The threat of death, or at least the apparent threat of death, is
the only thing which can break down the imprint as completely as
the brainwasher wants. However, this threat of death is almost
invariably a staged act, and the initiate is never in any real
danger at all, unless the initiators are really warped. In many
religions of Africa and the Caribbean, this ordeal is often
manifested in the form of a monster of some kind, or a person
dressed up as something from local superstitions, such as a zombie
or other creature, which will attack the victim in some ritual way.
Another common motif is that of displeasure. The initiate is
led into the presence of someone he is told is a high ranking
member of the organization, who will question him as if to find out
how well he has progressed. The questioner will then pretend to be
upset at how badly the initiate has done, and in many cases, a
ritual sword or dagger is used, occasionally with a bulb that will
squirt false blood. Usually this is staged so well that the
initiate, who has already been drugged or otherwise dBLATTTracted
during the ritual, will pass out from fear. If this occurs, the
brainwashers are virtually guaranteed success.
Meditation, on the other side, bears a close resemblance to
many of the more peaceful machines discussed in the other file. By
seeking to blank out the mind and relax totally, the initiates of
even these, the most supposedly free religions, are unwittingly
brainwashing themselves. Of course, the Gurus don't think of it
that way, and these groups do not try to indoctrinate people with
all sorts of nasty stuff like SOME cults I could mention, but
won't. In these organizations, the brainwashing only goes to the
first step, tearing down of previous conceptions of the world. The
meditator is then usually left to find his or her own
enlightenment. This "enlightenment" could be described as a state
in which all previous sets of responses, conditioned, imprinted, or
otherwise, are gone.
In religions like SufBLATT, there is some of each of these
ideas. Both the tearing down, and building up occur. During Sufi
meditation, the initiate often bows of circles his head over and
over, while repeating over and over a mantra. These two aspects
have both been used in modern neuroscience as methods of reaching
various states of mind. The rotation or motion of the head has
been used in a large machine known as the Graham Potentializer,
which has been shown to be extremely effective in inducing the
relaxed state needed for easy brainwashing. Reciting mantras can
be seens as a way of blocking out external sound and replacing it
with flat, featureless sound. Also, concentrating on mandalas,
those designs so frequently used in Eastern MysticBLATT, has been
shown to be a highly effective way to "blank-out", in which state
the subject can then be brainwashed very easily, making them accept
Sufi Doctrines such as the one which states that the initiates will
be obedient unto death and give everything they own, symbollically
and literally, to the leader of their group.
Mind Reading In 1 Easy Step
INTRODUCTION
If you don't believe in psychic abilities, this chapter will
probably tell you how those damn frauds convince the suckers that
they can tell the future or read your mind. However, if you DO
believe in psychic abilities, you should bear in mind I'm not
saying that they don't exBLATTT, just that it's possible (GASP) to
fake them.
One other thing, however. If you're going to ignore my advice
"don't do this, stupid" and do it anyway, don't be afraid to
actually FIND THINGS OUT to use... A spy network is a bit of an
elaborate way of putting it, but try to know as much as you can.
It's more convincing that way.
Just remember, kids, don't try this at home. This here is for
information purposes ONLY, so you can tell when someone's faking
you out. But, if, on the OFF CHANCE that you decide to try some of
this, hey, I got nothing to do with it.
Without further ado...
CHAPTER ONE: PSYCHIC READINGS
Okay, so you walk into a psychic fair with a thousand dollars
in your pocket, and a hankering to blow it all on people telling
you about your own personality. Instead of getting a
psychologBLATTT, you decided to learn who you are from someone who
waves crystals in your face and sticks chicken bones up your nose.
Well, nobody's perfect.
So anyway, here you are, and you have all this wonderful cash
and you're trying not to get ripped off. What are you going to do
to find out who has the real gift, and who doesn't? Well, let's
say you spend all your money on different readers and compare them.
How can you tell someone who can really peer into your mind and see
your soul from someone who's just a very good fake?
Well... Bottom line? Okay. You can't.
Section 1: Personality
The problem lies in the basis of personality. You haven't got
one. If you, like I, look into all kinds of annoying mind drugs
discussing the mind and the brain, looking for an answer to how the
mind works, you'll find out very fast that nobody really has a very
clear idea.
Oh, sure, there are theories about the Ego and the Id, and the
Subconscious and the Jungian Archetype, but if you actually pay
attention, you'll notice that half of it contradicts itself, and so
does the other half. How can you be sure who's giving you an
accurate reading of your personality, if you don't even know what
a personality IS? It's like asking someone to give you a BORSCHT
reading, if you don't know what BORSCHT is. (It's a kind of
Russian soup made from beets and cabbage, served with yogurt or
sour cream) Well, let's look first at the modern theory of the
Mind.
I lied, you see. There are some ideas about how it works.
This stuff is taken from Marvin Minsky, who is probably the single
most respected scientific dude in the field of how minds and brains
work. Anyway.
The basic idea is that your mind doesn't exBLATTT as a single
object. It's made up of lots and lots of little subdivisions which
Minsky calls AGENTS. Each agent does a particular kind of thing,
like building things from blocks, making sentences from words,
eating Russian Soup, sleeping, breaking things, and so forth. Each
agent has a lBLATTT of sub-agents, which do smaller, simpler jobs
for the main agent, and some agents can even call on other whole
agents to do things. When you have something you need to do, it
starts as a lBLATTT of agents to activate, and sub-lBLATTTs to run
through. If the job is a very complicated one (like fixing a
Porsche after you just smashed it into a tree and blew it up (not
that this has ever happened to me or anything)) then the lBLATTT
involves a lot of sub-lBLATTTs and so forth.
The important thing that we get out of all this is that there
are a whole bunch of little sub-personalities running around inside
your head trying to do their own thing. Each agent tries to be
activated as often as possible. This is why if you aren't really
sure what you want to do, you start thinking of all kinds of
things, as different agents try to get control of each other.
So what?
Simple. Your personality has a whole bunch of different
aspects. The smarter you are, the more likely you are to have lots
of DIFFERENT agents that all have fairly equal skill in getting
control of each other. (This is my own rule, and has very little
to do with the kind of intelligence measured on exams etcetera, but
it seems to work okay.) If I tell you "You're Generous", that
makes the Generosity agent more powerful inside you, and you see
that you ARE generous. At least sometimes.
So?
Section 2: Psychic Readings
Okay, this is where the fun stuff starts.
Now since a person is a whole mess of conflicting impulses,
those personality readers (palm readers do this a lot) can tell you
what you want to hear, and you start looking for bits of your life
that reinforce that. You'll find a spot where the agent they
mention was in control, and say "HEY! NEAT! It really works!"
The thing is, people are very similar to each other in terms
of the way their agents get control. Unless you have a severely
warped head, you're VERY likely to have a personality that falls in
a certain range. Here's a nifty bit coming up.
Back in 1948, a guy called Bert Forer did this experiment to
measure how similar people are in personalities. He did this by
beginning with the principle "Tell 'em what they want to hear" and
then building from that, and common aspects of personality that
different people share. He made a paragraph that was supposed to
be about "YOU" and your personality. It was given to a large group
of people, and they were asked to rate how well it fit them, from
0 (poor) to 5 (excellent). Of the 31 people he gave it to, only
FIVE rated it lower than 4 (very good) and the LOWEST was 2, which
meant "Average". The average of the ratings was 4.3 and when the
same test was done 30 years later, a different set of people got
almost identical answers.
Here's the paragraph:
"Some of your hopes tend to be pretty unrealBLATTTic. At
times you are outgoing, friendly, and sociable, while at other
times you can be tired, introverted, and reserved. You have found
by experience that you shouldn't reveal too much about yourself to
other people. You pride yourself on being an independent thinker
unlike other people, and you don't accept other people's opinions
without decent proof. You prefer a certain amount of change and
variety, and you don't like being pinned in my restrictions and
limitations. Sometimes you have serious doubts over whether you
did the right thing, or made the right decision. You tend to be
reasonably controlled and secure on the outside, but you are often
worried and nervous inside. Your sexual adjustment has presented
some problems for you in the past. While you have some weaknesses
and faults, you are usually able to compensate for them. You have
a great deal of unused ability which you haven't turned to
advantage, and you tend to be critical of yourself. You also have
a strong need for other people to like you and admire you."
Not bad, huh? If you want to go out and convince someone that
you can see into their thoughts, all you have to do is to use some
of those sentences and they're almost certain to hit at least half
the time, probably much more. If you mask this with a little
jiggery pokery with tarot cards or looking at funny squiggles on
their palms, it usually dBLATTTracts them from actually noticing
that you're not saying anything.
Section 3: COWCold Reading
Okay, you've probably all heard the words "cold reading"
before, but maybe you don't know what they mean. Cold Reading is
basically the method of "fishing" for information. If you want to
convince someone that you actually have psychic powers, you will
want to tell them all about themselves, since that's what they most
want to hear about. So, Cold Reading is very a very handy method
to know.
To begin with, you throw in one of the generic sentences from
the "personality profile" paragraphs above. Then you watch their
expression, to see how they react. Since they don't have time to
sit down and think of how they want to react, they will almost
certainly show you right away a little bit of info. Then you begin
to ask leading questions from that... "I sense feelings about your
mother..." and watch their faces, lBLATTTen to what they say.
Generally, by using a little bit of common sense, you can take
their reactions and their answers and put together a pretty decent
picture of what they're like. Another thing to do is to begin
introducing your "psychic knowledge" of events in their lives right
now. You start with generic things like "You feel a little anxious
about something coming up in the future," or "Your sex-life is
stimulating, but doesn't fully satisfy you." Since this sort of
thing is very vague, and could apply to almost anyone in various
different ways of interpreting what it says, you can very easily go
from a vague impression through to more specific things by
narrowing it down, until you seem to have known something all
along, in your infinite wisdom. Ayup.
Section 4: Conclusion
So basically, using a few simple methods, you can use very
vague information, which is almost certainly true for anybody at
all, and use impressions and reactions to narrow it down,
pretending you knew the results all along. This really is very
impressive.
CHAPTER TWO: GNU AGE
Suppose you're at this same psychic fair I mentioned before.
You walk through the aisles past stalls and stands, your thousand
bucks miraculously reappeared to look at these "new age" folks.
There are "seers", "aura readers", "channellers", and people who
fiddle with crystals. So what's the deal here? You decide to have
a look at what they're doing.
They tell you to harmonize your energy focus, to concentrate
on your past lives, or concentrate on a hunk of fused sand. What
gives?
Section 1: Gullibility
If you're trying to make a few bucks as a GNU age psychic, or
a channeller, there are a few things that you should be aware of.
One of the most important of these is the fact that unless someone
is specifically watching you to spot stupid things, they aren't so
much interested in WHAT you say, as HOW you say it, and if they
are, you'll end up looking fake even if you're not. If you act
sincere, and go into a trance when it seems appropriate, you can
easily make most people accept that you're receiving information
from the dead, or controlling some karmic energy in a crystal.
The critical thing is to explain everything. Whether or not they
actually understand what you say is irrelevant, as long as they get
the impression that you're trying to be honest and open about what
it is you're doing and why it works. Explain how a crystal can
focus karmic goodness on their chakra points, or how hypnosis can
reveal past lives, or how going into a trance can bring forth
spirits of the dead.
Now comes the important thing. When people hear a real
scientific explanation of why something works (or why it can't be
real) they don't usually understand it. They come out with the
vague impression that "it has something to do with gas pressure" or
the like. The important thing is to use the right words. So, I've
prepared a lBLATTT of the most impressive words to use in any
explanations. Here it is:
Chakra Crystal Perceive
Vibration Harmonics Sensations
Spiritual Entity Peace
Resonance Light Love
Energy Mystic Interconnected
Meta- Psychic Balance
Natural HolBLATTTic Trance
FocusCOW Reincarnation Channelling
Astral Plane Center
Netherworld Being Concentration
Psyche Mental Precognition
Karma Limbo Telepathic
Aura Universal Soul
Cosmic Harmony Essence
Any of these words, interspersed in talking to your subject,
will be so impressive they'll completely ignore the fact that they
don't know what they mean.
Using the methods described in Chapter One, such as Cold
Reading, you can convince the gullible (that is, almost everyone)
into thinking that you're getting knowledge about their minds and
souls (whatever those are) from some spirit in the astral plane
(whatever that is). This is particularly useful for channellers,
who want to make convincing contact with something BEYOND.
Section 2: GNU Age Things
The problem with GNU age psychic readings is that they've
gotten away from the glorious old days of sitting around a table
and getting rappings on the table from a spirit of someone you want
to talk to. Now you have to go through ancient egyptian gods and
goddesses, 6000 year-old spirit lumps made of thousands of souls
from all periods of hBLATTTory.
However, this actually helps the GNU age psychic, because if
you're not able to figure out what the subject wants to hear, you
can contact some random spiritual entity or whatever you like and
make up some spiel about cosmic harmony and universal love
resonating from the psychic plane. Or whatever you like.
Crystals, however, are supposed to be an energy focus. So you
should use as many of them as possible, on chains, loose, in
settings, or whatever. Use them to unclog blocked auras, summon
spirits, fix Maytags, or whatever. Nobody seems to be really clear
on what they're supposed to be good for, so if a situation arises
that you don't know what to do with, you can use crystal-power.
Either that or you can say your connection with the astral
plane has been severed. In this case, you should act surprised,
hurt, or confused. Going into a trance might also help.
GNU Age is full of vague generalities about universal love and
harmonic spiritual energy resonances. Basically, some kind of
energy and light is supposed to permeate the universe and vibrates
in some karmic way. Whatever. By using this kind of theme to your
babblings about nothing, you generally reinforce whatever it was
they wanted to hear anyway.
Section 3: Auras
So just what IS an aura? Well, it's supposedly a kind of haze
of energy (there's that word again) that surrounds the body and
head. By looking at the size, shape, and colour of this aura,
you're supposed to be able to tell all kinds of things about the
mind of the person inside. Here's a classic case where you'd use
your lBLATTT of personality traits in Chapter One, and the Cold
Reading technique. You can very simply look at the aura and say you
see some kind of colour, which means (whatever), or that it's
clogged up around a chakra.
The problem here is that the person you're trying to fool may
know someting about how auras are supposed to work. For this
reason, you have to make the colours sound right, and give as few
details as possible. This is always good advice: don't say
anything when you can talk about nothing.
Auras are usually going to be golden yellow, so if you get the
impression that the person is fairly normal, you can say that. The
other colours of the aura area basically what you'd expect. Red
means anger or love or something, blue means sadness or calmness,
and so on. Try to avoid mentioning colours unless you don't have
to. It might be advisable to "fish" for information. That is, try
to find out (without actually asking) whether anyone has ever read
their aura before, and if so, what colour the reader thought it
was.
Of course, you don't have to blindly follow along with
the things they tell you... After all, they might be suspicious if
you just say "So, what colour did she think your aura was? Yup.
That's what I see all right." You can say something like "Well,
there is that ASPECT to it, but I can also see some..." and so
forth. Correcting other "psychics" can only make you look better.
Also, the aura is related to the chakras. If the person
you're "reading" knows about this sort of thing (which
unfortunately a few of them do) they'll know all about what chakra
does what, and how things are put together. If they do, criticize
them for being too analytical, and tell them to take a holBLATTTic
perspective (or better still, a pill).
However, you ought to know roughly where the chakras are, and
what they're supposed to do. Chakras are supposedly centers for
this "energy", which they draw in from the universal light there,
and focus (that word again!) it into the personality. A loose,
unclogged chakra means that aspect of the personality is nice and
energetic. So, what are the chakras?
There are a whole bunch (seven) of chakras along the spine or
in the body around there. There's one on top of the head, which is
the "spiritual" chakra, one on the forehead, which is the mental,
thinking chakra, one on the throat (speaking, communicating), one
near the base of the spine (sex) and so forth. You don't have to
make too many references to them, but if you feel a need for being
authentic, you can look them up in any good annoying mind drug on
the matter from an Occult Shop, or the Religion/New Age part of a
library or bookstore or whatever.
A large aura means an outgoing personality, and a small one
means an introvert. So if the person is outgoing, tell them they
have a large aura, and if they seem to be a bit mild-mannered, they
can have a little one. Of course, first impressions aren't always
right, so take a little time to make sure that you've got it right.
Section 4: Conclusion
Well, basically, if you're vague enough that people don't
notice that you're not saying anything, you can get away with all
kinds of stupid things. Use impressive words to draw attentiom
from the fact that you don't know what you're talking about, and
make sure to tell them what they want to hear.
Okay, now you've got the basic idea of what's going on when
you want to fake psychic talents. Now comes the fun part. What
use can you put it to? Heck, get hold of a TENS machine or some
kinda audio mixer and go all out for your display...
Try the "magic" 7.83 Hz setting on the TENS while giving a
patter about the "universal love" or "chakra harmony" that I
mentioned before. Since this setting causes the brain to
resonate with the Earth's magnetic field, producing a feeling
that exactly matches those words, your victim/subject will
probably fall for anything else you try. In fact, it was by
meditating until their brains got on this frequency that the
gurus thousands of years ago first thought of this patter.
Play a tape in the background with any of the special sound
patterns designed to induce gullibility or any of the Alpha states
(2-10 Hz or so) Since this can easily be inserted into a GNU Age
music tape, you should be able to pass it off with ease.
Of course, using these machines costs a lot of money
if you're not either seriously interested, or phenomenally
rich. However, if you really want to convince someone you're
psychic, they REALLY REALLY REALLY help.
So why would you WANT to convince someone you're
psychic, aside from the sheer experimental psychology of it all?
Well, this is where we start get back to brainwashing. I
think you start to see the point here. But just in case, I'll
elaborate. If you recall, it's easier to condition someone if
you're in a position of authority, or else a position of trust. A
psychic can be in both of those at once. After all, if someone
thinks you know everything there is to know about them, they HAVE
to trust you, and you're sort of naturally in authority over them.
So now is when you begin the sneaky stuff.
If you're set up as a cult, or indeed, ARE a cult, then it's
easy to explain why you're psychic. If someone sees you with these
"unexplainable" powers in a high position in the cult, then
OBVIOUSLY they're gonna start thinking about whether you were
telling the truth after all, when you began telling them about the
spirits, Gods, or whatever it is you're telling them about... Use
it to gain their trust, their fear, or whatever's appropriate.
Some people may say I'm being cyincal and nasty about this
whole brainwashing thing, but you gotta remember, you're constantly
being brainwashed by advertisements from all over, so if you don't
know this stuff, your brain could end up seriously FUBAR.
Besides... It's FUN!
Anyone who tries to tell you that I'm doing something wrong by
telling you about this is clearly brainwashed by the Big Masters,
who don't want anyone else to know how to do it. Everyone has the
right to alter their own mind, or even that of someone else. The
more EVERYONE knows about this, the happier we'll all be.
Just remember kids, don't try this at home. HONEST.
No, really. Don't be trying this at home.
Trying this at home not reccomended.
We take no responsibility for you trying this at home.
Even though other people's brains are always being changed,
one way or another.
But still, that doesn't give you the right to do it ON
PURPOSE.
Heaven forbid there should be a point to it all.
Look, just don't try it at home, okay?
Be a sport, huh? The government wouldn't like it if you tried
it at home.
So come on, let's all join together in a celebration of
sameness!
Aw, fuck it. Go ahead. Try it at home.
See if I care. APPENDIX VIII
as Written By
Preest Lloyd Taco
Initial Sets Of Nomic Rules
Such As Would Begin The Holy Game
FIRST: Good For Beginners
(1)(Big Idea)(1992-0220-1200)
Nomic is a game in which the purpose is to change its rules.
No Nomic Rule may EVER be totally unalterable, but rules may be
altered only by adding GNU rules which may supercede old rules.
Rules contain a title-bar containing relevant data such as serial
number, title, date/time, submitter, votes received etcetera, and
a main text body, which states the effect of the rule.
(2)(Precedence)(1992-0220-1200)
Precedence is determined on a rule-on-rule basis, when two or
more rules conflict. Initially, all rules have the same degree of
effect, but if a disagreement occurs, players suggest and support
possible precedence arrangements which COW compete in any agreed-on
manner. The winners are recorded in a judgement file stating which
parts of which rules supercede which.
(5)(Turns)(1992-0217-1200)
A turn initially consBLATTTs of adding one rule to the
ruleset, after having a vote to determine its popularity. If a
rule receives less than one third of the vote in favour, it may not
be added, and the turn passes to the next player, who is determined
by cyclic alphabetical order. A rule takes effect immediately upon
addition. Each player gets exactly one whole vote.
SECOND: Bureaucratic And Annoying
This ruleset may be found in the book Metamagical Themas by
Douglas Hofstadter (which ya really ought to read anyway). The
following rule works well with it:
301. Doughnuts In Voting
If a player has doughnuts on his or her person, the doughnuts
will vote for or against the player or the proposition involved in
a vote according to the type of doughnut, using the following
schedule:
Plain 1/2 for player
No Hole, Creme 2/3 against player
No Hole, Jelly, Not Grape 3/4 for player
No Hole, Jelly, Grape Abstain
Doughnut Hole 1/4 for proposition
Maple Frosted 1/2 against player
Sprinkles 2/3 aginst proposition
Chocolate 1/2 for player
Sugar Frosted 3/4 against player
Grated Coconut 1/3 against proposition
Chopped Nuts 1/3 for proposition
Other 1 for player
Notwithstanding the above, any doughnut which is eaten during
a meeting will count against the player eating it by the value of
the doughnut.
If a doughnut falls into more than one category, then the
average of the votes shall be taken, or, if they are
inconsBLATTTent types, each vote shall be divided by the number of
categories into which the doughnut falls, and each of those
counted.
If there are doughnuts in the room, or immediate vicinity
(e.g. in a box) they shall have their votes be tallied by
proposition. Doughnuts which vote for a player will vote for a
proposition, and doughnuts which vote against a player will vote
against a proposition.
THIRD: Silly and Fun
Chapter 1
1 All players must disobey all rules at all times.
2 All players must follow any ruling made by an official referee.
3 There is NO official COW referee.
4 All players have the responsibility of ensuring that other
players follow the rules.
5 All penalties shall be handed out in the officially official
manner, or these penalties are not official.
6 Anything not recorded in the official minutes was not an
official happening, and therefore did not happen.
7 The official minutes are defined as anything the official
referee SAYS are the official minutes.
8 All official penalties shall be recorded in the official minutes
by the official referee.
9 No player may officially score against another player except
when the official referee has recorded this official score in the
official minutes.
Chapter 2
1 Penalties may be given by any and all official referees, and no
other player.
2 Any player may deputize him/her/itself official referee.
3 A penalty may consBLATTT of anything whatsoever.
4 All players must submit to all penalties imposed on them by the
official referees unless the official referee has an outstanding
penalty imposed by another official referee.
5 No player may incur more than ten units of penalty before
becoming an official referee.
6 Units of penalty are not defined.
7 No player may obey any rule in Chapter 1. Any player who does
so will incur a ten yard penalty and two percent of his/her/its
score will be deducted from the player of his/her/its choice.
8 No player may follow rule number 7 of Chapter 2. Any player who
does so will incur a five minute high-sticking penalty.
9 All official referees must impose at least one penalty per five
minutes. Any official referee who does not do so will incur a five
minute penalty in which he/she/it may not impose any penalties at
all.
Chapter 3
1 All players must invent at least one rule per minute, regardless
of whether it is put into effect.
2 No rule may involve anything not discussed in these rules.
3 At least one rule must contradict this one.
4 No it mustn't.
5 All players must wear proper attire. Failure to do so may
result in an arbitrary pentalty for no apparent reason.
6 At least one player must be active, and one inactive, at any
given time.
7 Active and inactive players are defined by the official referee.
8 Failure to obey all rules will result in becoming an official
referee.
9 No player may impose a non-arbitrary penalty on another player.
Chapter 4
1 All players are required to invent at least one GNU kind of
penalty per hour. Failure to do so will result in a ten-point
Unoriginality Penalty.
2 No referee may assign the same penalty twice. Failure to do so
will result in a sneer-and-funny-face Unoriginality Penalty.
3 If any player incurs the same penalty twice, the referee who
imposes it the second time will incur another Unoriginality
Penalty.
4 All GNU rules and penalties must be recorded in the official
minutes by the official referee.
5 All players must contribute some equipment to the playing of the
game. Failure to do so will result in a not-having-fun Being A
Spoilsport Penalty.
6 All Chapters must have no more and no less than nine rules in
them. Any Chapter which does not will incur a ten-point Game
Penalty.
7 It is forbidden for players to die.
8 It is forbidden for players to not play the game. Anyone who
does not play is subject to a five-yard, six-point, and two-sneer-
and-funny-face penalties.
9 Players are officially defined by the official referee and
officially recorded in the official minutes. They are unofficially
defined by the unofficial referee, and unofficially recorded in the
unofficial minutes.
Chapter 5
1 All players must disobey Chapter 1, Rule 6, whether it applies
to them or not.
2 Any player caught disobeying any rule is subject to immediate
banishment from the game.
3 There are no official minutes unless a rule otherwise specifies.
4 Anyone thinking the game is silly is subject to an immediate
ninety-nine point penalty, six demerits, and a tar-and-feathering.
5 Any player obeying Chapter 5, Rule 4 will be subject to the same
penalties there described.
6 No player may read the official minutes.
7 No player may write in the official minutes.
8 No person or thing may be neutral. All players, observers,
referees, and unaffiliated persons must pick a side.
9 It is forbidden for players to join any other player on a team.
Chapter 6
1 Teams may be selected from any group of players by any official
referee, as long as they are officially recorded in the official
minutes.
2 It is forbidden for any person to become a player without the
consent of at least one other player and an official referee.
3 No player may invent any rule that would cause another player to
incur a penalty without incurring the same penalty.
4 Any person joining the game will require ten poker chips, a five
card poker hand, two pawns, one plastic counter, a set of official
dice, one badminton racket, a badminton bird, two tennis balls, a
softball, a croquet mallet, a croquet ball, sixteen croquet hoops,
$1500 of Monopoly Money, nine Scrabble letters, a baseball bat, a
cricket bat, one cricket ball, a spare deck of cards, a hockey
stick, two ping-pong balls, the official secret decoder-ring, a
ping-pong paddle, two hockey pucks, a referee's shirt, whBLATTTle,
and cap, as well as a sense of humour.
5 No player may use any of the equipment mentioned above unless
permitted to do so by an official referee.
6 The object of the game is to win, to confuse other players, and
to have a good time.
7 The winner is defined by the official referee.
8 Any player declaring him/her/itself the winner before the other
players are finished playing will receive a ten minute suspension
from the game and no free popsicles.
9 Any player caught obeying any of these rules will be summarily
shot. Appendix IX¬
As Written By
High Preest Floyd ConfuCOWse-Ius Gecko
The Gods Of MOO And Who They Is
Used to be, in the olden golden days, religion was a
stabilizing society-type force, that kept constant while all else
changed. But these, these is the latter flatter days, and religion
is a randomfactor factor now. That's because in the olden golden
days, the Gods of MOO were safely tucked away in Pun-Dora's box,
but with the advent of SurrealBLATTT, the Punny box was ooops,
opened, and, well, the suckers got out.
Of course, the Gods of MOO can't be seen in their physical
forms on Earth by mere mortal humans, because of some hyperspace
thing. I don't understand it either. In order to see 'em, you
have to have this special operation that opens the third eye. But
that ain't enough. You have to get the whole Trinitization thing
done. Third eye, third nostril, third nose, third kidney (with
kidney stones), third liver (quite a trick, as most people don't
even have the SECOND liver opened yet), third stomach (good, if
you're a COW), third brain...
But when you've got this done, you can see the Gods for who
they is. Not the BIG VAST Gods, like the Grate MOO or the Penguin,
but just the ones who live with us little mere humans on our little
worldlet. Just don't be surprised at the Fast Food Gods or the
supernatural beings also lBLATTTed here.
Artemis Tamburlaine, the God of Small Furry Animals, takes the
form of a large gerbil who enjoys hopping through people on the
street who can't see him. He can easily be persuaded to give you
pellets of compressed alfalfa, but since this is of no use
whatsoever, most people don't even bother. He enjoys quiet music,
sports such as the Filing-Cabinet Toss and the Pole Vault, and
eating Chicken Vindaloo.
Required Tripling: Appendix, Nostril
Barbara MacDougall, no relation to the famous Canadian
politician, this Goddess of Fast Food, Airlines, and Cheez Whiz has
so many frequent-flyer miles it isn't funny. Often seen flitting
from one world center to another, carrying Industrial Size crates
of her patron flavourful spread, she is one of the most approchable
of the Gods. To talk to her after your operation, just open a jar
of Cheez Whiz, and scream, at the top of your lungs, "SING IT NOW,
SING IT LOUD! I'M A COW, AND I AM PROUD!" She can be recognized
by her beany-cap with the propeller on top, and the Cheeseburger
she continually carries with her (Q.V.).
Required Tripling: Gonad, Eye
"BOB" used to be an Aluminum Siding Salesman, but now is a
pipe-smoking, 'Frop-laden, grin-faced Godling. He was The
Miraculous One for a while, but got usurped by Elmer Fudd in the
late 60's. "BOB" was the first one to talk to Jehovah-1, God of
Wrath (Q.V.), but then got demoted to Skumbag Janitor, which is
still important, though not very. He can be recognized because he
grins like a beacon, visible through ten klicks of dense fog.
Required Tripling: Nostril
Cheeseburger is an archetypal spirit walker of the FastFoodian
netherworld. Contrary to popular legend, the Fast Food industry is
even more heavily built up in the netherworld than in the physical
plane, and this spirit being walks the realms which are the bridge
across the Abyss between these two realms. The spirit lives in
everybody who eats enough of the Foodian totems in sacrifice, and
eventually kills them with Cholesterol (Q.V.). Recognizable
because it looks like the totems we are so familiar with.
Required Tripling: Stomach, Spleen
Cholesterol is the Goddess of Filing Cabinets, Ball-Point
Pens, Looseleaf Paper, Paperclips, and other miscellaneous Office
Supplies. She can often be seen attempting to wander the streets
in torment, shackled to modern high-rise buildings by a chain of
miscellaneous paper fasteners, trying in vain to reach a Fast Food
Franchise. Be warned, however. Unlike the Prometheus whose legend
was based on hers, she is not plagued by eagles which pluck out her
liver every day, but she DOES do this to passers-by. She also
grabs their hearts and attempts to squeeze the life from them.
Wandering close to her is not advised.
Required Tripling: Heart, Lung, Appendix
Dave is not a God. He does not, technically, belong here.
However, Dave was caught in the hyperspace dojigger what makes the
Gods invisible and insubstantial to mortals, and became completely
impossible to detect without the operation. He is about 5'11",
with blond hair, brown eyes, and a T-shirt bearing the insignia
"Not Insane" on the front. If you see him, DON'T tell his family,
because they WILL NOT believe you.
Required Tripling: Eye, Nose, Nostril, Appendix, Spleen
The Easter Bunny is a demigod of Eggs, Chocolate, and UFOs,
related to The Santa Clause (Q.V.) and Bugs Bunny, who spends most
of his time inexplicably hopping around "bunny trails", which are
related to the Ley Lines of various well-tuned pagan traditions.
On certain days of the year, determined by elaborate astrological
calculations, which he does with an elaborate astrological
calculator (TI-666), he breaks into people's houses, hides
varicoloured eggs, and leaves presents of candy. While there, he
typically makes off with the TV, VCR, and the Microwave, which has
led people to start hiding the damn things themselves, which is the
only known way to keep him out.
Required Tripling: Sweet (and Buck) Tooth, Long Ears
Elvis Presley is neither a God nor a supernatural entity, but
can only be seen after the operation. Although there are, at an
estimate, half a billion Elvis Presley clones on planet Earth, and
a further half a billion Holographic Projections, controlled by the
original Elvis, none of these are visible to the untripled Small
Intestine. Mostly because the Small Intestine is not a sense
organ. He is recognizable from the innumerable photos of him which
appear in such reputable publications as the Weekly World News,
taken with special tripled cameras.
Required Tripling: Lung, Stomach, Eye, Small Intestine
Eris is the Goddess of Discord, Chaos, Confusion, Bureaucracy,
and International Relations. She mucks things up, and generally
makes our life extremely confusing. She is also the Latin verb
"you will be", so be careful when you say her tranlated name.
Unless you WANT to go giving her psychic power. She can be
recognized by her generally confused look, and by the way people on
the street walk straight through her massive shining flowing robes
without noticing.
Required Tripling: Pineal Gland
Fire Hydrant is a God left over from the early days. Now
calmed down, He was the source of the Grate Flood in all mythology.
The greatest enemy of Jehovah, and a strong ally of Jehovah-1, he
tends to get confused when writing letters, which accounts for his
extreme calmness and precision. He is applying for the position of
God Of Stationery, but the jury is still out on that one. He is
identifiable as a two-mile tall fire hydrant.
Required Tripling: Liver, Stomach, Lung
Furcoatl, the Aztec Goddess of Death, Blood, Murder, and
Tapioca Pudding. She is unsociable, due to her violent nature, and
all MOOists are advised to keep away from her unless absolutely
necessary. Never eat Tapioca Pudding in her presence, or you will
die a bloody and violent death as an alien creature gnaws its way
out of your stomach. She can be recognized by the necklace of
human skulls which she wears, and her T-Shirt which reads "Eat
Fiery Death, Homonid."
Required Tripling: Kidney, Eye, Nostril
Gremlins are annoying small creatures that bite you or steal
socks from dryers, but mostly harmless. Can look like anything.
Required Tripling: Depends on the Gremlin.
Half-Mad, alias God, is God. Just God. He's actually visible
without the operation, but you can't see his wings, aura, or Rolls
Royce unless you've opened the Third Spleen, and his other secret
elements are ALWYAYS invisible. He can be recognized by a tendency
to wear black, shun daylight, and hiss at garlic. Not to be
confused with a vampire, which shuns garlic, disintegrates in
sunlight, and lurks in the black. Half-Mad should be avoided by
all who have no particularly good reason to want to see him.
Required Tripling: None, or Spleen
The Hot God used to be a Hot Dog, but was stuck in the Washing
Machine (Q.V.) during the spin cycle and got his letters mixed up.
Frequently devoured by the other Gods in an archetypal pattern of
death and rebirth, he is the protector of BBQs, BBSs, and the BBC.
He can be recognized by the fact that he is about a foot long,
composed of a sausage and a bun, with orange flame around him, and
chili-sauce. He enjoys masquerading as a hot dog in HUMAN food
stands, so be careful what you eat unless you NEED a spiritual
enema.
Required Tripling: Eye, Pineal Gland, Kidney, Gall-Bladder
Ice Cubes are supernatural beings of cold. They are often
found flocking around the Fast Food Gods, or in Antarctica with
Jehovah. They resemble transparent cubes of some cold substance.
When they encounter The Hot God, they dissolve into some form of
liquid, which then dances the Hokey Pokey until evening, and drifts
off into the sunset.
Required Tripling: Femur, Eye, Ear, Nose, Toupee
Invisible Hand is God of Something. Don't know much about
him, actually. He seems to have something to do with something or
other that's not him, but has something to do with him, I think.
Not particularly identifiable.
Required Tripling: Entire Body (cloning)
Jehovah, not to be confused with Jehovah-1 (Q.V.), is a 9-foot
tall Penguin, the God of Penguins, and Dead Milkmen music. Father
of a certain Jesus ChrBLATTT, a famous Puerto-Rican Voodoo-Surfer
from the cult of Puerto-Rican Voodoo-Surfers for Jehovah, this God
was the direct progeny of the Primordial Penguin, and therefore one
of the more important Gods on Earth.
Required Tripling: Nostril, Nose, Eye, Ear, Liver, Brain
Jehovah-1, alias WOTAN, alias ODIN-1, is an escapee from a
Galactic Govern-Mental Intitution, or more correctly, a Political
Assylum. Many thousand years ago, he arrived at this planet and
began tormenting the Jews, telling them they were the frozen
people, but deliberately messing up the communication lines. The
Jews, under his unfortunate misdirection, set off on a course of
hBLATTTory which could well have been avoided if someone had shot
the bastard soon enough. He is recognizable by his extreme height,
mass, and thunderbolts.
Required Tripling: Tongue, Feet, Middle Finger, Eye
Kodosia is the Goddess of Moist Towelettes, Non-Dairy Creamer,
and Nuclear Armageddon. In order to appease her appetites for the
trade of these commodities, and thereby prevent Nuclear Armageddon,
we must go about offering Moist Towelettes and Non-Dairy Creamers
to unbelievers, and convert them to the Cult of Kodosia, whose sole
purpose is to do the same thing. The proper presentation of these
things is in a flat nasal voice, with just a hint of oregano.
Unless the unbeliever joins the Cult of Kodosia, or screams "MOO",
we must never give up the Moist Towelettes or Non-Dairy Creamer.
She can be recognized in the form of a giant Rolodex with wings.
Required Tripling: Stomach, Nostril, Brain
Lint Fairy is a supernatural being in hyperspace, but not
actually a God. His purpose is to gather Lint from the Industrial
Pocket Lint Mining Facilities on Titan, the moon of Saturn, and
transport it to Earth for dBLATTTribution, and then spread it
around. The Lint can go anywhere from Dryer Panels to Pants
Pockets, and is placed there by the Lint Fairy's team of trained
toasters. He can be recognized because he's actually Lloyd Taco in
disguise, and not a very good one at that.
Required Tripling: Pocket
Mess Fairy is a supernatural being. Its responsibility is to
clean up messes left anywhere in the world, overnight, or when
nobody is about, so that the problem doesn't remain. The post is,
and has always been, unoccupied, but the Mess Fairy Chariot, which
resembles a dirt-encrusted teapot, can occasionally be seen making
the rounds anyway.
Required Tripling: Ear, Nose, Throat
Narcos is the God of Traffic Jams and Potato Salad. In order
to appease him, and cause him to call home to himself a traffic
jam, you can offer a sacrifice of potato salad through the sunroof
of your car, while shouting the mantra, "HERE! TAKE YER POTATO
SALAD, I WANNA GO HOME, NARCOS!". He can be recognized by his long
trenchcoat and wheelbarrow of potato salad.
Required Tripling: Stomach, Liver, Large Intestine
Peter Pan, a sort of cross between St. Peter, first Pope of
the Roman Catholic Church, and the Great God Pan, he is a flying
elf-like being, neither entirely human, nor entirely fairy. He
frequently visits young children for the sake of stealing their
shadows, in the guise of being playful, but is actually extremely
dangerous. He can be scared off only by serious, morbid
discussions of growing old, played at top volume, in full
quadrophonic sound. He can be recognized by his characterBLATTTic
green leafy costume, and his uncanny ability to fly into walls and
hurt himself.
Required Tripling: Shadow
The Santa Clause is the God of Generosity and Legal Contracts.
He flies about the world in a sleigh drawn by eight clones of Elvis
Presley (Q.V.) and a reindeer named Fred. Fred is the replacement
for a previous reindeer named Rudolph, who was hit by a low-flying
jumbo jet in 1973. On special days of the year, The Santa Clause
dBLATTTributes absolutely nothing, but breaks into people's houses
anyway for the milk and cookies. He can be identified by his
absolutely disastrous fashion sense, and the eight flying Elvis
Clones which accompany him.
Required Tripling: Bank Account
Spyders are annoying hyperspace thingies from another planet.
The original subject of the now famous, if highly dBLATTTorted
poem, "Spyder, Spyder, burning bright, in the trousers of the
Knight... What kind of demon trickery, could place thy fearful
symmetry... In such a place?" Of course, the adapted version is
much better. Spyders should be stepped on if seen, since they are
extremely dangerous to the Ozone Layer. They eat the stuff like
Whipped Cream. Nasty.
Required Tripling: Feet, Nose, Toupee, Brain, Liver
Spydermann, not to be confused with Spiderman, is a
supernaturalhero, visible only after the operation, and only at a
quarter to three in the afternoon, for five minutes and twenty-
three seconds. He has retroactive blood, the result of being
bitten by a mutant Spyder (Q.V.). Nobody knows what he does. He
just sort of wanders around, time travelling. A moose bit my
sister once.
Required Tripling: Entire body
Teknocoatl is the Aztec God of Telecommunications, Computers,
and Subway Systems. He can be found in Metro stations, bus
terminals, phone switching stations, and any High-Tech companies.
By cornering him and threatening him with a stick or some suitable
low-tech weapon, he can be persuaded to cancel your phone bills, or
give you free Metro rides. He can be regognized by the number of
telephones and laptops he carries around, his mirrored sunglasses,
and chrome teeth. He is often accompanied by a horde of living
microchips with pin-feet.
Required Tripling: Phone Bill, Hard Drive
Tooth Fairy is a supernatural being. She collects children's
old milk-teeth after they fall out and are placed under pillows.
In their place, she sometimes places money, and sometimes land-
mines (so that when the child sits up in the morning, it blows its
head off), depending on her mood, and the locale. If the region is
sufficiently war-torn that she can get away with high explosives,
she will. Occasionally she switches keys to Ferarris. She cannot
be recognized, as she is in the habit of getting plastic surgery
every few weeks.
Required Tripling: Eye, Teeth, Eye Teeth, Kidney
Washing Machine is a God who hangs out with electrical
appliances, and is consorted by a wide range of mechanical
gremlins. Wherever it travels, socks follow, sensing the vast
power of this being, and desiring to cover its feet, on the grounds
that it always complains of chilly toes. The gremlins always end
up wearing the socks. It has never married, due to lack of gender,
and perpetually getting cold feet just before the wedding. It can
be recognized by its appearance, which is of a giant white cube
with a transparent circle on front, containing socks.
Required Tripling: Socks, Feet, Liver, Stomach, Heart
Yo-Yo is the God-thing of Yo-Yo Tops and Rap "Music". Every
Yo-Yo is actually a prayer wheel to him. Just as turning a prayer
wheel in a Tibetan monastery will recite a prayer and accumulate
you good Karma, so each spin of a Yo-Yo on its string will send out
a prayer to Yo-Yo and increase your yo-yo Karma, which affects your
Namron Field, of course. He can be recognized by the fact that he
looks exactly like a yo-yo top.
Required Tripling: Pineal Gland, Nostril, Eye
Zarquon Fish is the Goddess of Secret Sauce, the Colonel's
Blend, Mystery Meat, and other unidentified foods. ZF's favourite
passtime is throwing Halibut into the air and watching them de-
thingymajigger out of hyperspace and become visible and tangible,
only to rain down on unsuspecting passers-by. ZF is responsible
for the majority of rains of fish, frogs, cats, dogs, and toaster
ovens. She can be identified by her appearance, which is of an
enormous cup of Lemonade, over five meters tall, accompanied by a
fleet of flying Ice Cubes (Q.V.).
Required Tripling: Spleen, Liver, Gall-Bladder, Appendix Appendix IX«
THE AUTHORS
Here is a LBLATTT of the Authors of this Book, some rough
equivalent of their titles, and what they're suspected of. All of
them are fools, but most of them bear it well. For a lBLATTTing of
the different kinds of fools, see Ann's Book of Miscellany.
0000«) Half-Mad
God, Pope, King, Czar, Supreme And Ultimate Ruler Of The
Entire Pentaversal Omnipresent Realms Of fnord Creation,
Relish-Dispenser, Grate Prophet of MOO, Citizen of Nutopia,
Keeper of the Sacred Chao (KSC), FNORD, Priest of the
Paratheo-Anametamystykhood of Eris Esoteric (POEE), Grand
Poobah of the Temple Of The Primordial Penguin, SurrealBLATTT,
HarlequinBLATTT, AbsurdBLATTT, Zonked ArtBLATTT Melee, World
Record Breaker, Legionnaire of Dynamic Discord (LDD), Erisian
Liberation Fronter (ELF), Muncher Sublime Of Salads And Other
Similar And Less Healthy Foods, Title Collector, (TITLE TOP
SECRET -- CANADIAN GOVERNMENT). Major Hypocrite.
Above suspicion.
00001) Floyd Gecko The Confused
Wholly Air Traffic Controller Of Potatoma Of The Holy Church
Of The Grate MOO, High Preest Of The Holy Church Of The Great
MOO, Upper Dingbat Of The Temple Of The Primordial Penguin,
Episkopos Of The Discordian Society, Legionnaire Of Dynamic
Discord, The Sloth's Cousin's Brother In Law, Erisian
Liberator, He Who Would Have Almost Come Nearly Face To Face
With The Great Pudding Itself If He Had Ever Gotten Around To
Inquiring Before He Followed His Weird Passions Here By The
Knowledgeable Great WOMBAT Who Has Stared Through The Water
That Almost Splashed His Dear Endangered Box Top Coupons
(HWWHACNFTFWTGPIIHHEGATIBHFHWPHBTKGWWHSTTWTASHDEBTC), POEE
Chaplin, ULC MinBLATTTer, Misplacer Of The Sacred Chao, Spam,
Confusius of Confusius, Executive Committee Of QUACK, Pope,
Purveyor Of Paradox of Irrelevance, Confuse-Ius of Confuse
-Ius, Genuine Honest-To-"BOB" SubGenius Chaploid Smeghead,
Title Collector, Dispenser Of Condiments To Underpriviledged
Mongeese, (TITLE CENSORED BY U.S. MILITARY INTELLIGENCE).
Major Hypocrite.
Suspected of alien sympathies, due to teddy-bears.
00002) Hellhound >101<
Cardinal Richelieu of The Holy Church Of The Great MOO,
Keeper Of The Sacred Chao, Second Sibling to the Sloth, Pope,
MUD, Minister of the Miraculous KULTCHA, Revolutionary
Surrealist Vandal Party (R.S.V.P.), POEE Chaplain for the
Legion of Dynamic Discord, AnarchoSurreal Vandal, Mayor Of
Ottawa, He Who Has Almost Come Face To Face With The Great
Pudding Itself But Slept Through The Whole Thing
(HWHACFTFWTGPIBSTTWT), Radio Personality, (TITLE CENSORED BY
U.S. GOVERNMENT IN THE NAME OF FREEDOM AND DEMOCRACY
WORLDWIDE). Major Hypocrite.
Suspected of W.O.M.B.A.T. Contamination, due to
unexplained and needlessly long absence, known
collaboration with Wombats, and Pudding CultBLATTTs.
00003) El Cid
Dinner CirclBLATTT of the Holy Church Of The Great MOO,
Acolyte To The Temple Of The Primordial Penguin, Nifty
Researcher Dude, "BOB"oid Wanderer, Elvis Impersonator,
Unwitting Confused One. Major Hypocrite.
Suspected of Conspiracy Conspiring, due to clothing.
Suspected of being a catalyst to mind control satellites,
due to recent unauthorized rise to the Elite Upper
Council, and portrayal by Charlton Heston.
00004) Lloyd Taco
Preest of MOOism, The Alter-Ego of Floyd Gecko, Alien Pod-
Thing That Looks Like Jello With Socks Embedded In It. Major
Hypocrite.
Convicted of Alien sympathies. See footnote.
00005) Necromancer TeraFNORD
Prophet of MOO, High Priest of Flaut, Prophet of NO,
Necromancer of the third level (NAMS), Member of the NAMS
(North American Mage Society), Prophet of the POEE Cabal of
Lower Nepean, Master of the house of FNORDs, Leader of the
Incorporated Antidisestablishmentarian Focusing Committee for
the Mentally Unstable, Upper servant of Lord Namron, Apostle
Of MOOism, Originator of COGS (Computer Organised Government
System), Collector of Collector of titles, Five popes of
discord, Deacon of the lower faith, Prophet of Zarathustra M.
Nixon, Kinship of Raoul Applebaum, Kilt Kollector of East
nepean, Perot campaign chairprophet, Citizen of Canada,
Inhibiter of Nepean. Major Hypocrite.
Suspected of Alien Collaboration, due to pointlessly
accurate predictions of the future.
00006) Omar Khayyam Ravenhurst (Kerry W. Thornley)
Keeper Of The Sacred Chao, High Priest of His Own Madness,
Priest of the Para-Anametamystikhood of Eris Esoteric, Keeper
Of The Sacred Chao, Preest Of The Holy Church Of The Grate
MOO, Totally Unaware Of MOOism. Major Hypocrite.
Suspected of CommunBLATTT brainwashing.
00007) Jeffrey Morton
Preest Of The Holy Church Of The Grate MOO, Mongoose-Snapper
of the Mongoose-Whupping Chuch, Goofy Poinger of the Silly
Noise Maker Liberation Front, Dude With A Mean Pair O'
Sunglasses. Major Hypocrite.
Suspected of evil Nazi-clone Elvis Impersonation.
00008) Leper Messiah
Ex-Inner-CirclBLATTT of the Holy Church Of The Great MOO,
Victim Of Fictional Traffic Accident. Major Hypocrite.
Convicted of Conspiracy Dupeness, due to boredom.
00009) Little Big Man
X-Bishop of MOO, Monjunior Of MOO, Preest Of MOO, Other Things
TOO, Opossum Of MOOism, Final Member Of The Generic Church Of
Jonah Cheung, Monseignor Of NAR, Knight Of The Blue Moon With
A Side Order Of Disorder, Pday of the Carrot, Apostle Of
Jonah... Major Hypocrite.
Suspected of implanting mind control devices in gerbils.
00010) Abacab (Alias Mustapha Mond, alias Ben Dover)
Grate Profit of QUACKBLATT, Outer CirclBLATTT to the Great
MOO, Muncher On Spam-Based Substances During Disaster, Blower
Of His Own Nose During Sickness. Great Prophet of
Irrelevance. Major Hypocrite.
Suspected of Alien Brainwashing, QUACKBLATTT heresy,
affiliation with Evil People. No reason.
00011) Ann O'Nymous
Anonymous Contributor To The Great Book Of The Holy Church
Of The Great MOO, High Preest Of Her Own Madness, Outer
CirclBLATTT to the Great MOO, Preest Of The Temple Of The
Primordial Penguin. Major Hypocrite.
Suspected of everything, due to anonymity.
00012) Reverend Canoe Head
Doubter CirclBLATTT of the Holy Church of the Grate MOO,
Executive Committee Member of QUACK, Prophet of The Platypus,
Prophet Of The Giant Hogweed, Reverend of the Universal Life
Church. Major Hypocrite.
Suspected of being a Commie Elvis-Clone.
00013) Confuse-Ius
Umm... Major Hypocrite?
Supected of something or other. I forget.
00014) Frau Reverend Doctor Professor Miss Take
Cult Hunter Extraordinaire, Totally Paranoid Freak, Honorable
Reverend of MOOism, Doctor Of Division, Teacher Of Useless
Half-Truths To The Half-Mad And Half-Stupid. Major Hypocrite.
Suspected of Conspiracy Brainwashing activities.
00015) Brian O'Blivious
Counciltwit of various Councils of MOO, Television Personality
Of Some Kind, Acolyte of MOO, Pday of the Mongoose Of The
Order Of The Shining Star With A Side Order Of Fried Eggs.
Major Hypocrite.
Suspected of being a Conspiracy Dupe about paranoia
about CapriCancers and Aliens and nonsense like that.
00016) The Antique-Riced
Head Honcho Of OINK, Faetor Of The Holy Church Of the Grate
MOO, Confuse-ionBLATTT Extra-Or-Donair. Major Hypocrite.
Suspected of being the AntichrBLATTT, of being Homer
Simpson, of being a Thing From A Pod, and of not looking
both ways before crossing the street.
00017) Wom Bat
That Evil Guy Of The Holy Church Of The Grate MOO, Recounter
Of Tales Of Woe, Speaker To The Great Voice From The Sky,
Mongoose-Scarfer, Eater Of Eucalyptus Leaves, Knight Of The
Round Table. Major Hypocrite
Suspected of being THE EVIL BUNG, Of Attempting to
Assasinate High Preest Floyd Gecko, Of Being Undead,
Of Conspiracy and Black Magic, and of Not Washing His
Hands Before Dinner.
00018) I Yemen-Oying
I Yemen-Oying of the Holy Church Of The Great MOO, Holy
Heretic Of The Holy Church Of The Great MOO, Mocker Of The
Temple Of The Primordial Penguin, Legend In His Own Mind,
Confuse-ius of Confuse-ius. Major Hypocrite.
Beneath suspicion.
00019) Gettah Leif
Unheretic of the Church of MOO. Major Hypocrite.
WAAAAAAAAAY beneath suspicion. Appendix X
As Written By
Them Thar Apostles
OFFICIAL THINGS
1) Official Dress:
One of those old ballgowns with large frilly sleeves and an
Elizabethan frilled collar, with six green pinwheels
sticking from the sleeves, neck, and waBLATTT. Colour
scheme done in mauve with neon-green polka dots.
2) Official Clothing:
Okay, so:
MOO
Great Prophet: whatever he likes. Typical dress would
be a black trenchcoat and maybe a strange hat.
High Preest: A "High Preest" T-shirt, MOO Jacket with
various designs, and a strange hat of some kind, a tie
with pictures of cows on.
Cardinal Richelieus: Leather jacket or maybe the
occasional loincloth if they feel like it. For that
matter, maybe a space suit with a melted helmet...
Reverend: Two lampshades, a chest of drawers, and a 747.
Inner CirclBLATTT: Purple anything with green anything.
Best if done with a purple ming vase and a green pasture.
Outer CirclBLATTT: Anything.
Acolyte: Six and a half apple skins, peeled in long
strips, a small replica of the Eiffel Tower, made of either
brass or gold. Green-dyed pants with one leg half a meter
longer than the other, a tye-dyed t-shirt with the word
"BUNG" on the front.
Evil One: A large sandwich sign saying "Bung's Hot Dogs
On Sale For Only $68.95" and a hat with flashing lights.
Heretic: Sweater, cardigan, bubble pipe, Canadian Postal
Union, Gulf War battle plans, and Norman Schwartzkopf.
QUACK : What it says there.
PENGUIN
Grate Profit: Whatever.
Hi, Priest!: Annoyingly loud hawaiian shirt, green tuxedo
with extra-wide lapels, bell-bottoms, platform shoes, a
bluish-orange silk carnation in the buttonhole, and a
partridge in a pear tree.
Extreme Foolish One: Whatever.
Moderate Foolish One: A triangular frying pan, a silver
fork, two brass bedknobs, a silk handkerchief, five gold
rings, four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle
doves and NINE partidges in pear trees, each of which
should be wearing a White Sox baseball cap. The pear
trees, not the partridges.
Superior Bonk: Whatever.
Inferior Bonk: One of Jimmy Hoffa's old suitcase clasps,
pinned to the left side of the shirt, which should be at
least ten years old, but at most twelve and a half. The
shirt should be plaid, containing the colours red, brown,
and a thin green stripe. A tie with the MacKenzie family
tartan from Scotland, a large bumper sticker saying:
"I break for partridges" and an "I Love Penguins" button.
A pair of orange shorts with frilly bottoms. And a
partridge in a lemon tree.
Grand Poobah: Whatever.
Lesser Poobah: Two stamps from Bangladesh, printed between
the years 1985 and 1996, pasted to the forehead. A rubber
chicken stapled in between five and nine places to the side
of the green and yellow boxer shorts bearing the words
PENGUINS RULE in blue letters. Two one-hundred watt
lightbulbs, a demigod, twelve lords a leaping, eleven
pipers piping, ten drummers drumming, two partidges,
NOT sitting in pear trees, a vermillion silk shirt with a
ruffled collar, two bow-ties, either one orange and one
mauve, or one pink and one black. The face should be
painted pink with purple polka-dots, and a green stripe.
Upper Dingbat: Whatever.
Lower Dingbat: A towel (preferably king-sized, bearing
egyptian heiroglyphs.)
Inner CirclBLATTT: Whatever.
Preest: A pear tree in a partridge, worn upon the head.
Outer CirclBLATTT: Whatever.
Acolyte: A chipwagon selling hot-gods and other lysdexic
food for 05.1$ a shot.
Perrenial Heretic: Whatever.
Evil One: Red satin suit with a long tail, horns, a pair
of dark mirrored sunglasses, and a partridge with a goatee.
3) Official Foods:
a) 12 bags of Doritos
b) 11 Tacos with lots of hot sauce
c) 10 steak sandwiches
d) 9 Custard pies with cherries, whipped cream, and a
light baked topping of turkey gravy.
e) 8 chocolate sundaes
f) 7 of those sort of funny things with lots of them, um,
YOU KNOW, flanges on the sides, with, um, running
lights and... aw, YOU'VE SEEN 'EM!
g) 6 annoying mind drugs about lasers
h) 5 ONION RINGS
i) 4 chicken drumsticks
j) 3 pairs of glasses
k) 2 jumbo jets
l) AND A PARTRIDGE IN A PEAR TREE
4) Official Drink:
Honey Punch
Recipe:
Take a jar of honey and pour it into a normal glass until
the honey covers the bottom to about 3 milimeters. Then
pour in an equal amount of lemon juice, and stir the two
together lightly. Next, fill the glass the rest of the way
with club soda, stirring as you do so. The result is:
1 (1) (one) (un) (uno) (1) (one) (yes, that's
right, you heard me ONE (1)) serving of Honey Punch
Ask for them at your local restaurants, Delis, and other fine
food establishments. If they don't serve them, either give
the recipe freely, give the recipe expensively, or shoot
everyone in the place for fun.
5) Official Song
Tiny Toon's Theme Song:
"We're tiny, we're tooney, we're all a little looney.
And in this cartoon-y, we're invading your T.V..
With comic dispensers, we crack up all the censors.
On Tiny-Toon adventures get a dose of comedy.
So, here's ACME acres, it's a whole wide word apart.
Our home sweet home, it stands alone, a cartoon work of art.
The scripts were rejected, expect the unexpected.
On Tiny Toon adventures, it's about to start.
They're furry, they're funny, they're Babs and Buster Bunny,
Montana Max has money, Elmira is a pain.
There's Hampton and Plucky, Dizzy Devil Ducky,
Furball's unlucky, and Go-Go is insane.
At ACME Looniversity, we earn our toon degree.
At teaching gaffes and getting laughs, since 1933.
We're tiny, we're tooney, we're all a little looney.
It's Tiny Toon adventures, come and join the fun.
And now our song is done."
5) Official Games
Nomic, Calvin, Sink, Hide-n-Seek, Mao.
5) Official Substance
Pocket Lint
6) Official Slogans
See "The Book Of Ambiguity" in BOOKS OF HONEST TRUTH.
7) Official Mascot
THERE IS NO OFFICIAL MASCOT
8) Official Pest
Blackfly
9) Official Animals
Gecko, Wombat, Platypus, Emu, Penguin, COW, Beaver, Woodchuck,
Marmoset, Duck, Human.
10) Official Capital Of Canada
Ottawa
11) Official Reason For Being Late
I was kidnapped by these aliens who tried to implant me
with the brain of Elvis Presley, who's been cloned into a
giant nazi army on the far side of the MOOn, in a futile
attempt to stop the hideous invasion of Earth by these
really ugly aliens from the planet Skyron in the Galaxy of
Andromeda.
12) Official Book
Definitely NOT The Great Book of MOO. HONEST.
13) Official MOOvie Entertainment
Akira, Naked Lunch, Monty Python's Holy Grail, Attack Of
The Killer Tomatoes, Return Of The Killer Tomatoes,
Slacker, Rocky Horror Picture Show, Life Of Brian, The
Wall, Forbidden Planet, Videodrome, 2001 A Space Odyssey, A
Clockwork Orange, Sleuth, Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are
Dead, Fire Walk With Me, Eraserhead, and many many more not
lBLATTTed here.
14) Official Condiment
Treacle (a runny sort of sweet-tasting thing like molasses
or honey. Either that or a kind of cross beteween hot
mustard and hot mustn'tard.)
15) Official Purpose
Accumulate titles. Spread the word (and the treacle).
16) Official Truth
There ain't no official truth, stupid!
17) Official Ending:
MOO
OMM
ÉÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͻ
º Here ends this version of The Grate Book of MOO. º
ÈÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍͼ
If It Wasn't Ranted, It Wasn't True POST HOLOCAUST TO THE GRATE BOOK OF MOO
As Written By
The One True Church Of MOO
If you disagree with or dislike anything in this book, you
have, by the Inalienable Right of Prophecy, the authority to
declare us all heretics, infidels, and blasphemers, excommunicate
us, and create your own One True Church Of MOO. Or anything else,
for that matter.
In fact, we prefer it if you do, because if you believe
everything written in this annoying mind drug, you must be more
gullible than we took you for.
And believe me, we took you for pretty durn gullible.
If you would like to create your own Church Of MOO, you have
our permission to reprint any part of this book you like, of any
length. It might be nice to send us part of any money you get for
it, but it's not like we could force you.
Please send any comments, criticism, membership applications,
curious puzzling stuff, information requests, death threats, or
notices of excommunication to:
The Church Of MOO
P.O. Box 26038
72 Robertson Rd.
Nepean, Ontario, Canada
K2H 9Y8
If you would like more information about the activities of the
Church of MOO, send a stamped, self-addressed envelope, and ask for
our fun-filled catalog of pamphlets, stuff, things, and junk like
that there. You may also wish to subscribe to the newsletters MOO-
JUICE and MOO-COW, published by the Elite Upper Council of MOO. Or
you may not. So be it.
But they're neat. And have cool explanations of MOOism to
give your friends. Or, likely as not, your enemies.
