+---------------------------------+
|PART ONE: THE HOLY BOOK OF QUACK!|
+---------------------------------+
Section 2.................introduction
Section 3.................Explanation of terms and divisions
Section 5.................The Book of Abacab
Section 6.................Rules and Beleifs
Section 7.................The five B's of QUACK!
Section 8.................holy sign ups
Section 9.................useless rhetoric
Section 10................The Ruin
Section 11................Book of The Ruin
Section 12................Levels of membership
Section 13................Unofficial levels
Section 14................updating method
Section 15................Pricklies
Section 16................weird scary stuff
Section 17................PUNISHMENTS
Section 18................The Book of Diesel
Section 19................Fests and Bashes
Section 20................The Book of Trevor
Section 21................Fun Stuff
Section 22................<for rent>
Section 23................Upper level initiation ceremonies
Section 24................Notes
Section 25................First days as a new Quackist
Section 26................The MOO Belt
Section 27................Holy Places of all parts of MOOism
Section 28................Holy Symbols of QUACK! and MOO
Section 29................City Zones and Heirarchy in other
cities
Section 30................THE BOOK OF MODEMISM, an ancient cult
now accepted by QUACK! (By Cadomark)
Section 31................List of things that are stupid
Section 32................BOOK OF BLASPHEMOUS HERECIES (by the
evil E.D. Brebis
Section 33................A little bit by Floyd Gecko
Section 34................Book of Itchy and Scratchy
Section 35................Phoque olive yew!
Section 36................Ritual Shit
Section 37................Ceremonial Dress
Section 38................Holy Music
Section 39................A mission for all
Section 40................Abacab's FULL name (mockery of you know
who)
Section 41................QUACK in your everyday miserable life
Section 42................Annexation of land forming the QUACK!
nation
Section 43................The Book of Battles
+--------------------------------------------------+
|THE MONDIAN TEST SITE FOR TROUBLED MINDS IN UNITY |
+--------------------------------------------------+
+--------------------------------------+
|PART TWO THE CHURCH OF IRRELEVANCE |
+--------------------------------------+
Contents are listed in the book itself.
+--------------------------------------+
|APPLICATION THINGS |
+--------------------------------------+
1.........................Local Applicant Form
2.........................Application for those outside Ottawa
WORD OF CAUTION:
ÕÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ
³ THIS BOOK IS A GENERAL GUIDLINE. NO ONE IS FORCED ³
³ TO DO OR BELEIVE IN ANYTHING WRITTEN IN THIS BOOK ³
ÔÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ;
+=================================+
| |
|PART ONE: THE HOLY BOOK OF QUACK!|
| |
+=================================+
Section 2 INTRODUCTION
WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THIS SHIT?
OUR SILLY SYNTAX PROTOCOL:
There is only one true ACK, QUACK! All other occurences of "ack"
shall be replaced with SPLORKT.
QUACK IN A HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVE:
Half-Mad, the sysop of a BBS called the Psycho Shoppe created
this weird little religion. This religion stood for Pyroism,
Cannibalism, Necrophilia, Free Sex, Bureaucracy supporting,
Bureaucracy toppling, Paranoia, etc. Most of these beleifs were
held only by Half-Mad (Halfy) however some of the members did
beleive in some of the mentioned concepts. Anyhow, Halfy and High
Preest Floyd Gecko were together and someone shouted out "Moo!".
For some reason Halfy and Floyd loved it so much that they named
their religion MOOism.
Later on Abacab called the Psycho Shoppe and started reading
about what MOO was all about. He was so disturbed by the whole
thing that he formed an anti MOO religion. It was decided that
this religion would be named after "QUACK!", one of the anti
MOOists. The religion QUACKism was born. Abacab seemed to enjoy
calling up the Psycho Shoppe and putting down MOOism. This
resulted in a mini war. Eventually Abacab and Halfy wanted to
meet to see what was up. They met in this forest by the railway
trSPLORKTs near Collonade Road in Nepean. Here they had a fire
and
got along quite fine. Abacab knew suddenly that MOOism was pretty
cool. QUACKists beleived in lots of MOOist concepts except
Necrophilia and Cannibalism. Apparently a MOOist was not forced
to beleive in anything. Abacab decided to make QUACKism a part of
MOOism that ignores the necro and cannibal stuff.
Eventually Abacab was looking for a holy place for the
religion. The number one choice was an overgrown ruin in the
forest where he met Halfy in Nepean. This ruin was cleared of
trees so it was safe to have rather massive fires and explosions
in (ruin was 20 feet by 12 feet). This ruin became a popular
QUACKist and MOOist meeting place. Soon it was named The Ruin,
the holiest place to QUACKists. As for now, meetings continue
there. Refer to the other things in the QUACK MOO NYAAA menu for
more info.
MOOISM: MAIN RELIGION
Quackism: Anti-MOO religion which became pro-MOO
OinkBlatt: A struggling new part of MOO (procrastinators)
Pyros: Were the crusaders, then the official pyros of MOO, but
really nothing now eh.
WHAT'S THIS MODEMISM SHIT? A religion originating in the Sarnia
Ont. Area. This religion became popular then kinda died. QUACK
accepts all beleifs of this former cult and it's leader,
CADOMARK. You know they're good when a prerequisite for their
religion is the knowledge of bomb making.
QUACK! ITSELF:
QUACKISM is a new sect of MOOism that promotes free sex, alcohol
and pyroism. It is a faith and a recreational institutuion,
upholding many beleifs held by MOOists. We beleive in any form of
enjoyment that deviates from the standards of conduct given by
our society and that involves many overly illegal actions
(burning eveything). MOOism is seen by us and society in general
as being absurd and abnormal, so that is why we like MOOists. Oh,
about Environmentalism...Quackists care for the environment,
however when burning hazardous substances comes into play,
enjoyment comes before the environment. It would truly be
hypocritical to burn things and be a staunch environmentalist.
WHAT ELSE WE BELEIVE IN:
A supreme being often refered to as God, Yaweh, The Lord, Allah.
Fortunately we choose to worship the Supreme being in an odd
manner. In having fun we are simply thanking the Supreme One for
all the nifty chemicals and other stuff he created.
There is an afterlife, reincarnation occurs instead of Hell or
Purgatory.
Section 3:
General Syntax protocol and explanations of divisions
Please use a ! after QUACK! if you remember.
FORMERLY "QUACKISM" AND "QUACKIST" WERE REFERRED TO AS
"QUACKBLATT" AND "QUACKBLATTT" RESPECTIVELY. AS OF AUG 15
THE OLD TERMS WERE INVALID.
Like I said, QUACK! is the only "ACK". All others are mere
SPLORKTs.
Section 5:
The History of QUACKISM:
Book of the converted Abacab:
"The great prophet of AntiMOO spent ages bashing and corrupting
the concepts of the great Halfy. He did profess in his evilness
that his religion was better than the Great Religion. One day he
did see the light (hmm, was he drunk?)and did see his errors and
felt a need to repent. At that time by some strange act of the
COW he decided to befriend all MOOists."
Section 6: Rules and Beleifs
1. Quackists may or may not be MOOists
2. MOOists are our freinds, however we are a seperate entity.
3. Drinking and partying are staples of our diet
4. Criminal Codes of the land aren't necessarily to be respected
(unless you KNOW you'll get caught!)
5. Sign up locations are on sacred ground. Honor the ground
before you leave with the simple mutter of "QUACK!" .
6. BUSHBASHES are held spontaneously at any location. I'll keep
you posted.
7. The Ruin is always to be capitalized.
8. No one may chase after girls liked by Abacab.
9. Quackists drink Coca-Cola Classic, however if something else
is cheaper it'll just have to do.
Section 7:
THE FIVE B'S OF QUACKISM:
QUACKISTS may or may not be sane and beleive that it is necessary
to be acceptable to society on occasion (ie: act like an idiot
but make sure nobody sees you). QUACKISM is easily acceptable by
all due to it's universally accepted methods of enjoyment such as
Booze, Babes, Bonfires, Balloons + Bombs (the five B's of
quackism).
Section 8:
HOLY SIGN UPS
INITIATION: In order to become a QUACKIST one must either sign up
at the locations to be specified, come to a
QUACK/MOO/Psycho/Pythonfest and become somewhat intoxicated, or
simply get a hold of Abacab somewhere on the BBSes.
TWO QUACK! BUSHBASH locations are specified at the end of this
document along with directions. A serious QUACKIST will go out to
a location and find a sign-up sheet in a bag there. Anyone who
signs the list will automatically become a V.P. of QUACKISM. You
may also use this as a method of meeting Half Mad. You see, if
you tell him to go there, he WILL come. He's quite familiar with
location #1...
Section 8:2:
QUACK! SIGN UP LOCATION 1 (WEST END)
TOP SECRET (the Ruin)
SECOND QUACK HOLY PLACEY THERE EH (EAST END):
Currently pending discovery. Watch this space for news!
Section 9
USELESS RHETORIC: Quackists MUST be staunch patriots. All must
love Canada, but no one must hate other nations. The maple leaf
is an official QUACK thing..
AMERICAN QUACKISTS must honour the bald eagle and call him a
duck.
Section 10
THE RUIN
The Ruin is seen as THE most holy place on earth to
Quackists. The Ruin is no more than the sad remnants of some sort
of railroad building. It's just a rectangular foundation with a
concrete stairway in it. Underneath the stairs is a cubby hole
where supplies are kept (mosquito coils etc.). If you visit The
Ruin you must honor the place with a flame of some sort (lighting
the mosquito coils doesn't count). The second from the top stair
is The Step Of Halfy. Do not sit on this step ever, for it
belongs to Halfy. The slab of concrete at the bottom of the
stairs is the Slab of Abacab. There's no reason why anyone would
want to sit there, so I don't care if you do. In the far right
corner from the entrance is a thingy. This is Floyd's thingy.
Leaning against the outside of the ruin is an orange 80 cu. ft.
cylinder. This fuel is to be used only by genuine Quackistss or
MOOists for bomb purposes. Now as a bonus, there is a nice orange
tarp to shelter you good Quackists from severe weather.
UPDATE: The Ruin is empty. Seems the dumb fuck construction
workers weren't so dumb after all. Fuck. Well, if it rains, you
can still go under the stairs, but there aint no oxygen tank for
a bench no more.
Section 11
BOOK of THE RUIN
"The pioneers of the rails pushed forth with the line. A
great terminal was required, because, well, it just was. A great
many large buildings did take effect, one unbeknownst to anyone
was the great temple. As the young buildings were destroyed by
the decision of some stupid bureaucrat The Ruin was born. After
60 years it was greeted by the Great Profit who came upon this
sorry sight and did say "QUACK!". As proclaimed by the great Duck
the promise of the unity of the Profit and the temple was
fufilled. Then the Great Profit did name it The Ruin. As
proclaimed by the Cow the Prophet of MOO would also visit the
temple and do geeky things there as if to confirm the validity of
The Ruin. Now and forevermore The Ruin shall be the holy worship
site of all Quackists."
Past Visitors of The Ruin: ABACAB, Diesel D, Halfy, Floyd, Yemen,
Colin Hardie, Notorious Ninja, Gon Mad, The Phantomlord, Dan the
curator, Dennis the PHD, Willem the geek.
Section 12
LEVELS OF MEMBERSHIP
12:1 The Great Profit of Quackism (equivalent to Grate Prophet
and High Preest)
holders-1
name of holder: Abacab
requirements: Start a religion called Quackism.
vocation: to have a power trip and burn things
ambition: To lay all the BBS chicks in Ottawa.
12:2 Most Honorable Duck (equivalent to Cardinal Richelieu)
holders-1 per City Zone
name of holder:
requirements: Special Entry
vocation: Actually contribute to the religion
12:3 Executive Commitee Member (equivalent to inner circlBLATTTs
of MOO)
holders- (top secret)
names of holders: Floyd Gecko, I Yemen Oying, Jay Cadieux, others
I don't feel like bothering to mention.
requirements: special entry, chosen by Abacab
vocation: be present at most fests, continue to kiss up to Abacab
12:4 Run of the Mill Member (equivalent to outer circlBLATTTs of
MOO)
holders- as many as can fit in The Ruin uncomfortably
names of holders: Gon Mad, The Phantomlord
requirements: join
vocation: practise the religion
12:5 Mildly interested member (equivalent to Acolyte)
holders- infinite
names of holders:Infamous Axeman, Diceman, Pej Vongpaisal
requirements: be mildly interested, fart
vocation: admit who you are, burn things at The Ruin.
Section 13
UNOFFICIALLY RECOGNIZED LEVELS
13:1 Vaguely aroused semi-member (no equivalence)
holders- ???
names of holders: Diesel D
requirements: none
vocation: ???
13:2 Unknowing member (equivalent to old dog shit in a spring
puddle)
holders- who I say
names of holders: Helena, who I say
requirements: know nothing about computers, BBS's, or Quackism
vocation: get watched by Abacab, be unaware of everything,
undress with the blinds open so Abacab can watch through his
binoculars.
BTW: There is no V.P. of Quackism, so signing a sheet don't mean
shit. Hahahaha!!! BUT signing The Ruin wall makes you a run of
the mill member.
Section 14
Update methods:
Whenever any change takes place the first number in the
version goes up. Please distribute the newest version of
this file to local BBSes.
Section 15
Pricklies
Thorns
Spikes
Burr Bushes
Section 16
Weird scary stuff
As a Quackist you must consider Abacab or Halfy as your most
superior superior. I can officially recognize people objects and
places in the name of QUACK, however not necessarily in the name
of MOO. It is possible to be a Quackist without being a MOOist.
Oh, about the fuel at the ruin...If you aren't a Quackist or a
MOOist when you go to the ruin you can't touch the stuff. Once
you scrape your name in the wall, you CAN. You see, we also stand
for Bureaucracy. Shut up, follow the rules and you'll be fine.
Section 17
PUNISHMENTS (applies to all QUACKISTS including unknowing members
chosen by Abacab)
1. For disobeying Abacab and bashing MOO or Quack in a
pain-in-the-ass way:
One entire night (sunset to sunrise) underneath the stairs in The
Ruin.
2. For using the gas before putting your name on the wall:
The use of a 2" long stick to light an acetylene balloon.
3. For being a stupid arse hole in general
42566692 FARTS!
Section 18
THE BOOK OF DIESEL
" And then there was one who decided to sit on the fence. The
great Profit then removed the fence with his action of unifying
with MOO. Then the fool fell into the mud below where the great
Profit deemed him Vaguely Aroused Member. Diesel had then
realized that he had been a visitor to The Ruin and that he had
put his name in The Ruin and that he was powerless. From that
moment on he realized he could not fight the overpowering forces
of the Cow and the Duck"
Section 19
Fests and Bashes
To date, no successful bashes have occurred. Many mini-fests have
occured at spontaneous times. These have all occurred at The Ruin
(obvious to any visitor). The next bash is planned for Aug. 16th
at The Ruin. This occasion will be a first, however the success
rate depends on attendance.
WHOA! HOLD IT! There were some recent successes at the ruin.
There
was the great INSANITY FEST which was a blast, and some mini pyro
fest with the old "pyros" of MOO. The northern lights were
astoun-
ding.
Section 20
THE BOOK OF TREVOR
"The bigot's name appeared on the wall of The Ruin. Promptly the
great Profit proceeded to dissolve and burn this digrace as if to
fufill the desires he had towards the real Trevor"
Section 21
FUN STUFF: USES:
Acetylene Put in Balloon and ignite.
Hydrogen Same as above, smokeless.
Balloons Put explosive gasses in em.
Muriatic Acid Pour on small animals.
Lighters Light wd 40.
WD 40 Flamethrower.
Butane Same as above.
Wood Fires!
Acetone Fires!
Rubber Stinky fires!
Rubbers Heh...
Oxygen Fire steroids!
Urine Think about it...
Excrement Forget it...
Off! Lame...
Styrofoam Burn, or make napalm
Poo ...
B.O. Bug yer freinds!
Torps Deafen people, give em high medical bills
Flares They look neat
Say, would a bombs file be a better idea?
Section 22
<for rent>
RENT THIS SPACE! YES, YOU CAN ADD A CHAPTER
TO THIS VACANT SECTION! HURRY, IT'LL GO SOON!
Section 23
NEW INITIATION CEREMONIES
To RUN OF THE MILL MEMBER
To occur at either holy site
-Abacab: Do you solemly swear to be a faithful member of the most
supreme institution of the Duck?
-candidate: Yes, for I do desire to be one of your faithful.
-Abacab: Ok, run through the woods and yell QUACK till I can't
hear you
then run bSPLORKT.
-candidate: <sigh..> Okay, Abby, oh great one <..fukin S.O.B.>
Twit runs through the woods yelling QUACK! untill he is no longer
heard (this is impossible for the twit to tell, thus making it a
challenge and if someone else happens to be wandering around in
the woods its even better). Twit returns.
-Abacab: Yer in (thumbs up punch in the shoulder of candidate)
To EXECUTIVE COMMITEE MEMBER
To occur at The Ruin
-Abacab: Let the ceremony begin!
-candidate: Ok.
-Abacab: You have earned a great deal through your membership.
This is the last hurdle to clear for admission into the Commitee.
-candidate: oh, really.
-Abacab: You must do the following to prove you really wanna get
this geeky position...
-candidate: Fuck You!
-Abacab: EH?
-candidate: uh, nevermind, go ahead
-Abacab: Go to the centre of the Pond and yell QUACK! loud enough
for me and the other witnesses to hear from The Ruin.
Candidate leaves ALONE and stands in the centre of the Pond. He
must then yell QUACK!
-candidate: QUACK!
Abacab and witnesses go to Pond.
-Abacab: Very good. Welcome aboard!
Abacab shakes hand of candidate violently.
PROMOTION TO MHD (most honorable duck)
To occur in the middle of the train bridge over the Rideau River
near the area of The Ruin (Pure hell if you're afraid of
heights).
-Abacab: I Declare thee MHD.
All participants then yell QUACK and MOO. All meet for fest at
The Ruin.
Section 24
NOTES:
Section 25
First days as a new Quackist
I expect you to be more than a deadbeat and participate in
meetings at The Ruin etc. This is the only way to improve your
level. Also, I am going to upgrade any member one level if they
fill out the MOOism application and go through the MOOist
initiation. An impromptu upgrade ceremony whilst at The Ruin with
me may occur. See this as a payment for coming out and
participating. Likely you will get a higher level by showing up
with me. Also, once the Boisterous BBS is up, this will upgrade
your access level.
Section 26
THE MOO BELT
A most fascinating discovery has been made by Executive Commitee
Member Floyd Gecko. As we are all aware, the most important place
to MOOists is Dunn's Deli in the Byward Market, and the most
important place to QUACKISTS is The Ruin. If a straight line is
drawn between the two an interesting phenomenon known as "The MOO
Belt" occurs. Within 350m of this line there are many places of
significance to MOO/QUACK members, such as locations of MOOfests,
Lisgar High, the houses of Abacab, Floyd, Harizof, Halfy, Kirsten
and so on. Apparently some sort of powerful field exists between
The Ruin and Dunn's that pulls MOOists and Quackists into it.
This belt will be considered as a Holy zone by all.
Section 27
Holy Places of MOO, QUACK and the PYROS
1. Dunn's Deli (MOO): In the Byward Market
2. The Ruin (QUACK): Refer to "Holy Sign Ups"
3. The trestle (QUACK) : S of Greens Creek toboggan Hill
(Montreal at Bearbrook) along creek.
4. Hunt Club Bridge (PYROS): Under it
Section 28
HOLY SYMBOLS
The first, being that of QUACK! is the Tri-Beak. It's a triangle
with a beak in it. The second, that of MOO, is The Halfy, named
after
the leader of MOO.
* * *
* ** *** **
* * ** * **
* * ** **
* * * ** **
* * * ** **
* * * ** **
* * * * * * ***
* * * * * * * * *
MOO
QUACK! OMM
There is another symbol of QUACK designed by evil Heretic E.D.
Brebis. It's in the title thing and in The BLASPHEMOUS HERECIES
section of this book.
SECTION 29
City Zone numbers.
City Zone
OTTAWA/HULL 1
SUDBURY ONT 2
TORONTO ONT 3
MONTREAL PQ 4
ALBANY NY 5
NIAGARA ON/NY 6
DETROIT/WINDSOR 7
CHARLOTTOWN PEI 8
FREDERICTON NB 9
QUEBEC CITY PQ 10
Remaining have yet to be determined, however numbers will be
assigned at anyone's request.
There is only ONE Great Profit, Abacab, of Zone 1. Each zone has
one MHD and an Executive Commitee, as well as other lower levels
membership. Abacab chooses ALL MHD's and each MHD is responsible
for the Executive Commitees in their city. In Zone 1 Abacab
assumes
all responsibilty for appointments to any level.
Some Zones are member free, therefore Abacab handles all virgin
territory.
SECTION 29
The Book of Modemism:
"Once, a long time ago, a gentle and kind god noticed that
his subjects were getting bored calling up party lines and such.
Realizing that there should be a way for the more intelligent
peons to communicate, he created a device, known as the
MOdulator/DEModulator. And with a single word, he conjured up
the cable and program that would enable any mortal with a
computer and telephone line to tap into this real new world.
At first, all was well. This god, being kind and gentle
and all that, didn't really care much about respect and homage.
It wasn't for him. Eventually, though, he noticed that his gift
to humankind was being perverted by those who would use it to
spread the evil nemesis of all true religions, namely
Christianity.
The evil one was known to all as "Maverick," and he was
the SubOP of his own message section, the one on the evil
religion.
The true followers of the modem were quick to rally to
the modem's defense, but it was to no avail. The evil Maverick
had grown too strong, and no longer listened to reason. He
really began to preach the evils of Christianity throughout the
entire BBS.
The corruption spread like a cancer, and soon it was
almost unstoppable.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Then one day, as I had passed out over my computer, the god
of modems struck my terminal with a bolt of lightning. And in
the brief instant he spoke to me (it was at about 19Kbaud) he
informed me of the great new religion that would remove the
cancerous evil from the boards everywhere. He told me a great
many things, and in his last few nanoseconds of communication, he
named me to be the Original Modemist, that I might carry on the
fight where ever I might be.
As I woke up the next morning, I was certain that I had
undergone a bad dream. But it was reality, for on my monitor was
the prayer of the prompt, a sign of holiness throughout the
world:
Our Prompt,
Who art in batch.
C:\> be thy name.
There follows the epic battle between good and evil, but
I'll spare you the details."
-The Original Modemist, Cadomark
SECTION 30
List of things that are stupid.
1. The local government will spend money on 2 signs to warn
motorists of a pothole. One is half a mile away and says "Bump
1/2 mile" the other at the site of the bump says "Bump". Of
course it would cost less just to patch the fucken hole!
2. While on the subject of roads... An unimportant county road in
Ontario is better than any two lane highway in the U.S. and the
shitty residential street I live on is better than *any* road in
QUEBEC.
3. Members of the opposite sex only admit they liked you AFTER
they stopped liking you.
4. The most bigoted minorities are the ones that complain about
racism.
5. Computers are obsolete before they even make it to store
shelves.
6. Most BBS users go straight for the GIF section, not realizing
that they're admitting they masturbate.
7. People will go somewhere only when nobody's trying to get them
to go to the damn place.
8. Fat people hate being that way, but do nothing about it. (This
goes for other fuck ups too).
9. People whine and complain that spirit is too often neglected,
yet never show up for any event where they'd show it.
10. People didn't ever give a fucking shit about the environment
until it became a trendy issue.
11. It'll be ages before someone decides to accept my invitation
to add to this list.
12. Dental Hygeinists always have more cavities than anyone else.
Section 32
BOOK OF BLASPHEMOUS HERECIES by the evil E.D. Brebis
DISCLAIMER: "The incorrect oppinions expressed by the evil
heretic DO NOT in any way reflect the true beleifs of QUACK!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Here, chuck this into your "book" which makes a mockery of QUACK.
(the Quaxign. If you're looking for any deep symbolical meaning,
FORGET IT! It's just a Weird looking Q.)
"In the Name of Quack!, one helluva duck.
READ! In the name of Quack, who created,
Created ye fools from a drop of blood coagulated (poetic, eh?)
READ! And Quack! is most kind,
The Duck who hath taught mankind,
That which he knew not, being blind..."
(I didn't write that, QUACK! did. In fact that was the first holy
revelation, and basically it boils down to "hey you, shut up and
listen, cuz I created you and yer gonna GET IT if you don't
listen.")
Listen now to the ramblings of the first and last prophet of
Quack!
Okay, lemme get a few things straight first off:
First and foremost, there is no God except QUACK!. Never mind
whatever else you might have read in this book. Understand? Only
Quack. If you are a Mooist, you are not a Quackist. This book was
written by a Mooist, except for this part and maybe a few others,
which are probably edited beyond recognition. Not that I care,
whatever goes into that Blasphemous Book is not my
responsibility.
I hope you've got that all straight. If you haven't, well
that's your problem, you can FUCK OFF and read the other herecies
in this book, and skip this chapter. You're de one dat's a gonna
get it, not me.
That little snippit of poetry there was translated
straight from duck with a few poetic licences that I took to make
it rhyme, since it rhymed in duck. And another translation for
the word QuAck! (READ!) can be Proclaim, or Tell Everyone About
It!, except that TELL EVERYONE ABOUT IT IN THE NAME OF QUACK!
didn't quite sound right. Anyways, this is another important
idea,
that you should be not only believing Quack, you should be SAYING
"Quack!". Why? WHY THE HELL NOT? IT'S A NICE THING TO SAY,
OKAY?!?!? SHEEZ! I'LL TELL YOU WHY! BECAUSE! *THAT'S* WHY!
(Now that I've taken a pill, I shall continue.)
Next important idea is to Sneep. This is about as best
translation of the word as I can. I would explain it, except I
seem to have run out of space here. Too bad, really, Sneeping is
about as important as saying Quack, and fun too. Well, that's it
then. Tune in next time for my next gospel session!
JUST SAY QUACK!
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Section 33
ÚÂÂÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
ÃŴAnd now a silly bit by Floyd GeckoÃŴ
ÀÁÁÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÁÁÙ
Okay, so this bit was added in after this version was put in the
book of MOO... SOSUMI!!!
Anyway, this gospel section will continue after some silly
noises.
QUACK POING
MOO
DISASTER BLEEP
IKKI IKKI IKKI
PITANG! POIT!
POIT!
Mumblemumble...
At any rate...
Okay, so the weekend gospel is here commenced, by Rev. Fleud
Gocke.
Floyd: RIGHT! YOU MISERABLE CHURCHGOING *SCUM*!
Congregation: But... but... but...
Fleud: *THERE AIN'T NO DAMN GOD BUT QUACK, OKAY?!!!!???*
Nincompoop: I thought you were a MOOist?
Floyd: DAMN RIGHT! [shoots self in foot]
Excuse us a moment while we find the real Floyd.
Ah. That's better.
"So once upon a time, there was this wicked witch, and she
ruled an evil land, in which lived nasty people. Then QUACK
noticed how nasty and evil it was, and killed them all. The
moral of the story is, be nice all the time or QUACK will kill
you too."
Nope, that's not him either.
Ah. Here we are.
What? Where am I? WHO ARE ALL YOU PEOPLE? You want
me to tell them about a WHAT? A *DUCK*? You must be JOKING.
You're serious, aren't you... Okay...
So there's this God, right? And his name is QUACK, and,
like, he's all powerful, except for this MOO thing, okay? Oh
yeah, and a Penguin. And Eris, Aneris, a Fire Hydrant, and some
Void Thing. Scratch that.
So there's this God, right? And his name is QUACK, and,
like, he's not real powerful or anything, and he doesn't even
exist, but, I mean, he's neat, and he's got lots of well con-
nected friends. Okay, um... I mean, his friends can tie their
own shoelaces.
Some of the time. That's SORTA connected, innit?
*WE WOULD LIKE TO APOLOGIZE FOR THIS BEHAVIOUR. WE THOUGHT
WE WOULD BE GETTING QUALITY ENTERTAINMENT FOR OUR DOLLAR,
BUT FLOYD WAS JUST UNAVAILABLE. HE'S SENT A SINGING
TELEGRAM TO APOLOGIZE FOR NOT ADDING TO THIS BOOK.*
Telegram Guy: I would only like to say,
I'm sorry that I had to stay
Out of your wonderful BOOK!
I'm sure that it's worth a LOOK!
Oh... It's a beautiful day in the
NEIGHBORHOOD...
[THWAP]
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄĿ
³And now your regular programming returns to the air³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
Section 34
The book of Itchy and Scratchy
"QUACK normally dissapproves of dumb fads, however one must
watch that silly cartoon with the bratty kid in order to watch
the little Itchy And Scratchy cartoon the little brat watches.
MOO and QUACK can almost be symbolized by these Itchy and
Scratchy characters. Like the cat and mouse who " Fight fight
fight Fiiight fight fight fight fight!" QUACK and MOO bashed each
other. Well, ok, bad example! SOSUMI! The point is, thou must
like Itchy and Scratchy and remember their theme song. or not.
Fuh-Q."
Section 35
Phoque Olive Yew
Now, I'd just like to tell everyone to FUCK OFF!!! Yeah, even
YOU! Fuck, sometimes it just feels good to tell everyone to FUCK
OFF! Fuck MOO! Fuck QUACK! Fuck YOU! Fuck ME! Fuck everyone! Fuck
this, I don't even wanna bother with you FUCKHEADS! Fuck, join my
FUCKING religion. Or don't. PHOQUE OLIVE YEW!!!
1. The Fuh-Q Ritual:
Tell people to fuck off by finding new ways to spell
variations on Fuck You. (eg: Fuh-Q, Fuh-Q II, Phoque Olive Yew)
2. The Ruin Ritual
Go to a ruin and burn any old thingy you find in the
name of QUACK!
3. The Heretic Ritual
Be a heretic, question and bash the hell outta QUACK etc.
4. The Harass-a-Duck Ritual
Hang around a pond and yell at the Dux till they, and
anyone around, leaves in disgust.
5. The Run-like-fuck, er, duck Ritual
As in the initiation, you run through wherever you are
and shout QUACK repeatedly until a witness can't hear you
anymore.
This is very difficult to perfect.
6. Read a map Ritual
Study a map and draw lines all over it till you get some
spooky shape or whatever (this is how we discovered the MOO belt)
7. The Ego-trip Ritual
Just be an egotistical weirdo-psycho and push lower ranking
people around. Also called The Half-Mad ritual.
8. The singy Ritual
Find a place that's lSPLORKTing of people and sing
something.
9. Hurt-the-Heretic Ritual
Do all you can to bring harm upon the evil E.D. Brebis for
spreading his most blasphemous herecies.
Section 37
Ceremonial Dress
To be worn at official ceremonies (fests):
1. Abacab, Most Honorable Duck:
Hat, big ass thatch/straw/hay thing
White dress shirt.
Tie, any color but yellow.
Rubber Ducky in hand (OPTIONAL)
Brown Cords
Dress Shoes
Punishment #2 for refusal to comply.
2. Executive Comittee Memebers:
Yellow tie worn outside any shirts or coats
3. Low ranking shit:
Underwear worn outside pants.
Section 38
Holy Music:
1. Genesis; The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway (2 LPs)
2. Horror sounds of the night; unknown (sold at Shoppers Drug
Mart around Halloween for 2 bux)
DO NOT LISTEN TO
Genesis; Abacab (LP)
OR RECEIVE PUNISHMENT #1 !!!
Lyrics to the song "Abacab":
Look up on the wall
There on the floor
Under the pillow
Behind the door
There's a crSPLORKT in the mirror
Somewhere there's a hole in the windowpane
Do you think I'm to blame
Tell me do you think I'm to blame
When they do it
You're never there
When they show it
You stop and stare
Abacab
Is in anywhere
Abacab
If you're rappin all the world
Has he taken someone else's girl
When they turn on the pillow
Even when they answer the telephone
Don't you think they'll find out
Tell me don't you think they'll find out
When they do it
You're never there
When they show it
You stop and stare
Abacab
Is in anywhere
Abacab
Does he really care?
You wan't it, you got it
Now you know
You want it , you got it
Now you know
It's an illusion
It's a game
A reflection
Of someone else's name
When you wake in the morning
He can find you covered in cellophane
Well there's a hole in there somewhere
Yeah there's a hole in there somewhere
Baby there's a hole in there somewhere
Now there's a hole in there somewhere
When they do it
You're never there
When they show it
You stop and stare
Abacab
Is in anywhere
Abacab...
-Genesis
From the album "Abacab" released 1981
Section 39
A mission for all
Hunt down and injure the most evil heretic, QUACK! This evil
one mocks our Grand Religion and must be destroyed at all
cost. The Great DUCK has inspired me, the author of this
book, to write this section. QUACK! must die.
Section 40 Abacab's ONE name (a mockery of others eh)
There! I have ONE MEASELY NAME! Ok, so it's over 1700 letters
long SOSUMI!
Actually, that's not really it.
Section 41
QUACK IN EVERYDAY LIFE
Life's a bitch. Whenever you're in difficulty JUST SAY QUACK!
Yer mom bitches about your room being a mess... JUST SAY QUACK!
Yer boss bitches about your slSPLORKTing off at work... JUST SAY
QUACK! Yer cleint/customers don't like the service they are
getting, and they're voicing it to you... JUST SAY QUACK!
Whenever you are in doubt, remember the warm nuturing family of
freinds you have in QUACK! let not the petty troubles of life
EVER make you miserable. Just remember that you can always hang
with other QUACKists and do fun shit. There's always a bright
future and upcoming fun for all QUACKists. Never be down... if
you feel discouraged JUST SAY QUACK! wherever you are. Don't feel
silly. Purge yourself. SAY QUACK!!!!
Section 42
Annexation of Lands forming the QUACK! Nation
One duty of all members is to locate any chunk of abandoned or
deserted UNUSED (making it easier for us to *think* it's *really*
ours) land and annex it into the QUACK! nation. The
parts of the nation do not need to be connected to one another
either. Each region can be isolated or joined to another. So
far we claim the following lands:
IN THE OTTAWA AREA
1. TOP SECRET
2. That land where the outer limits are the Queensway (hwy 17)
and Montreal Rd. to the north, Bearbrook Rd., City of Gloucester
Soccer Field, and Greens Creek to the east, Innes Rd. to the
south, and Blair Rd. to the west, however NOT including the lands
of the golf course contained within these limits.
Section 43
The Battles of The Great Forest
All I see are the lost souls of a past I cannot remember.
The Struggle of the Early Days
------------------------------
Then I came upon this forest in the fall of 'eighty three and
found the shell of the first holy monument erected in this wood
by some persons long gone. And with it I built my holy shrine to
a god unknown and distant. Then in 'eighty five the demons from
Hydro razed my shrine and further distanced me from my god. So I
built a new one.
The Battle of Mike Walker
-------------------------
Then unbeknownst to me, another shrine to the evil god was
built elsewhere in the Holy Wood. The Fort of Walker took place
and took over the forest. The evil Mike Walker dominated the wood
and drove my men away. Only a year later did he flee when the
Holy Crusader of the new unknown religion did destroy the Fort of
Walker. Then did Walker destroy the Crusaders new Phort and burn
its remains...
The Battle of The pre-teens
---------------------------
Four and a half years came to pass when the Crusader did
return to claim his now vacant wood. A new shrine to the unknown
god was required, and one was named. Then the evil pre-teens did
build another evil shrine. The evil pre-teens greeted the
Crusader with anger and the Crusader was not pleased. The
invaders built a mighty shrine larger than any that had existed
before. The Crusader tried to visit this shrine and warned the
evil pre-teens to leave at once. And then the evil pre-teens
proceeded to arm themselves and their shrine. Eventually Abacab
did come upon the site of this shrine on one cold winter day and
dismantle it with another faithful. And the pre-teens vanished
forever.
The Battle against MOO
----------------------
The battles were far from over...
Abacab then retreated to what became the semi-permanent shrine to
his god. A shrine wich had survived as much as fifty times as
long as any other. But a new threat had emerged. The threat of
MOOism was in the air, and the Great Halfy did visit and
discourage Abacab from returning. Persistance and devotion
prevented a total war, and the two enemies met and did discuss
their differences and create a new nurturing environment for both
MOOism and the Unknown religion, QUACK! Triumphantly both went to
the remains of the shrine of the pre-teens and burnt it to ash.
And there she was, oblivious to the binoculars clearly focused
on her. Helena sat fidgeting with the lower part of her bathing
suit as Abacab watched with a close up view. Yes, her pubic hair
DID show. The babe never knew his name, but knew that Abacab,
lived behind her. She never knew it, but she had been officially
recognized as a Quackist. And yes, more than likely, she should
never have known about it...
Part Two
Then the profit made his way through the sharp prickles of the
prickly bushes. The Ruin seemed unusually sad and dark... as if
the thick brush that had at one time covered it were there once
again to haunt it. The ash in the centre of the once mighty pit
was washed away by some sort of red blood-like rain which
stained the smooth faced rubble. A musty smell strong enough to
invoke nausea was stagnant in the cold dry air. No flame would
survive this sombre sight... The profit walked away as if in slow
motion along the now obscure cord that marked the exit.
As he approached the light at the end of the thicket he could
see nothing but darkness. There lying naked in the sharp thorny
Raspberry canes was a fat man. The man was stuffing his stained
face with the fruit which grew from the bushes that tore into his
flesh. With each gulp his belly shifted violently. Then, looking
at the feet of the profit, he took one big gulp which caused a
convulsion so horrible that our profit could not stand to watch.
One of the sores on the mans belly suddenly tore open with a
thick fleshy "Schwohp".
The mortal pains caused the man to scream...
Suddenly from the oozing wound flew a dripping mallard. Blood
flew off her feathers as she flapped her soaked wings. Then as if
in a dream she spoke softly to the profit: "I am she you desire".
The profit sat dumbfounded, unable to speak. "I am Helena... and
that is my father" spoke the voice. And looking beside him there
was no more fat man. Only the blood sinking into the coal ridden
soil remained. The fluttering Helena dissapeared over the tree
tops, and then a thunder crash roared through the blSPLORKT sky.
She was not a mallard, but rather a raven in disguise.
The profit walked bSPLORKT to The Ruin with his head sunk low
"Is this the meaning of Quack? Was this my fate?"....
Part Three
BSPLORKT in the Ruin nothing had changed. The red blood was dry
and the ash still washed out. A severe cold snap hit the profit
as
he sat on the stair. A faint echo like that of someone walking up
a long stairway was audible. In panic the profit looked all
around
him. Then a Puerto Rican man wearing only a pair of blue jeans
and
tattered sneakers surfaced from underneath the step of Halfy. His
shaken voice screamed out "Is this my home? Am I free?"
The profit questioned him " Who are you?"
The reply "I am Rael"
The profit lost his fear and demanded to know where he was
going.
"I am trying to get bSPLORKT to Broadway. You see, I was swept
away
underground in early morning Manhattan. I am trying to escape
this chamber of 32 doors. Where am I?"
"Far from home, and close to Hell" said our profit.
Then Rael dissappeared under the steps and the echoing
stairway sound was again to be heard. A faint scream and the
sound of deep rushing water faded into silence.
Then the sky was orange, and the setting sun shone onto the
ash covered rubble. A fire was present on the floor... footsteps,
many of them, approached. Then the Pyros, Quackists and MOOists
greeted him as they cheered on about a Pyro Fest. All that
evening our profit sat silently trying to peice together the
events that had occurred. Silently he said to himself "I must
continue to search for the answers. I must keep up my quest". And
then the fest went on with no further surprises.
Part Four
The profit somehow drifted away from the others upon their
departure. In the distance he heard Rael's voice singing:
"When I take out my bottle filled up high with gasoline
You can tell by the night fires where Rael has been, has been"
Why was this happening? Who was Rael *really*? Abacab felt his
wallet hit the ground. Oddly enough it was tightly placed in his
pocket a second earlier. A visa lay strewn from it. The name on
it was simply "JOHN". Then more singing blew through the
trees...
"But down here I'm so alone with my fear
With everything I hear
And every single door
That I've walked through
brings me back
back here again
I've got to find my way
Cause back inside
This chamber of so many doors
I've nowhere
Nowhere to hide
But give you all my dreams
if you'd help me
Find the Door that doesn't lead me back again
Take me away.."
Rael's body was found the next day by rail workers strewn in
the ditch. Only Abacab could recognize the face. It was his own.
He was Rael and he was dead. Then he...
Part Five
Rael? He was the fictional character mentioned in an old
Genesis album! Realizing this Abacab was not Rael. in fact
Rael and the railworkers were not there at all. What with
Helena? Did she exist? Yes. She must, for she aroused the
Prophet. A sudden spasm of fear ran thru Abacab. Hastily he
ran to find Helena. First he blasted through the bushes,
slopped through a ditch and burst across the trSPLORKTs. The
fence was vanquished like a hurdle, then the sound of wet
sneakers on the pavement was audible..." squish squish squish".
The ensuing fields filled Abacabs shoes with little seeds and
other annoying shit. No time to pick them out. It was time to
jump the creek behind the Hood.
The damn thing was just too wide to hop. Wading was an
alternative. And so it was done. At the other side Abby
continued to run in his bare feet, even though it was painful.
Finally in the Hood the home of the babe was visible.
The house was baren looking, however did seem inhabited. In
the bSPLORKTyard someones feet were visible. It was her... and he
went to grab her... and she fell to dust... HUH? Then he awoke
at the Pyrofest.
Part Six
Finally the Profit was inspired by the God, QUACK!, and knew
how to contact this Helena concept. And with Telix he did dial
the babe's number and she did reply "Hello...hello?" and the
profit did hit <esc> and she was gone. And then suddenly high
preest of MOO Fleyd Gocke did say "HUH?" and the profit realized
he made a faux pas and let a big fart.
Part Seven
==========
[as written by Mr. Canoe Head, Official Supplier of Recreational
Pharmaceuticals and Executive Committee member of QUACK!]
Inspired by "The South Side of the Sky" by Yes.
I
Yet another evening, yet another drinkfest. Myself and about 120
of my acquaintances had gathered near the river for one of the infamous
Beacon Hill bush parties. We were all sitting around the massive
bonfire, preparing hydrogen balloons, when suddenly this old guy walked
up to us and proclaimed, "Does anyone here like LSD?". We all shut up
and turned around, not saying anything, because nobody calls it LSD
these days and we were afraid he was a narc. But we changed our minds
after taking a look at this guy. He was about 50 years old, with a
massive grey beard, long hair and a tye-dye shirt. We recognized him as
being of the species Hippius Stonerus, an almost-extinct breed of tripped-
out individual. When I asked him if he had any acid on him, he told me to
close my eyes and stick out my tounge. He then proceeded to place a hit
of some obscure kind of acid on my tounge. I had caught a glimpse of
the stuff though, and the hit had a Tri-Beak on it! Before I could ask
him if he was a QUACKBLATTT, strange stuff started to happen. The earth
split in a 10' circle around the old man and I. The ground outside the
circle started to sink into the depths of the earth, while the ground
inside the circle started to rise at an alarming rate, forming a pillar.
All this was too much for my mind to take, and my world collapsed into a
heap of broken images...
II
When I woke up, we were still on our pillar, which was now
stationary. Looking around, I noticed that we were so high up that we
couldn't see the ground. I could see some snow-capped mountains in the
dBLATTTance, and the sun cast a glow of dBLATTTorted blue on their flanks.
Below us, only the pillar and the void.
I turned to the old man and asked him what was going on. He
replied, "You and I have travelled many miles, but not in vain. Sit
yourself down, and I'll tell you a tale". So, after lighting a
cigarette, I sat down and the old man began:
"Our party had left our camp at the base of the mountain earlier
that morning. We had learned from the monks in the town that a gate
to the sky exBLATTTed at the summit of the tallest mountain, the Mountain
of Light. The 400 kilometre trek to the base of that mountain had been
difficult, but aside from the fording of the River Lilith, gave us
little trouble. Even though the monks were unsure what exactly lay
beyond the gate to the sky, and that no-one had ever dared climb the steep,
treacherous slopes of the Mountain of Light, we were driven on by some
mysterious force. Whether it was the mystery, the promise of
immortality or the hazy blue glow at the mountain's top that drew us
towards it, we were unsure.
The path from our base camp was fairly level and easy to walk.
However, after a few hours, the climb began. As we ascended amongst the
rocky crags of the Mountain of Light, rockslides, felled trees and other
obstacles barred our path. Fortunately, we were well prepared and our
gear was in excellent shape. As we turned a corner, we noticed an
enormous crevasse, at the bottom of which ran a torrent of green water.
Over this crevasse stretched a suspension bridge made out of rope and
boards. The bridge swayed bSPLORKT and forth in the fresh, cool mountain
winds. As we proceeded towards this bridge, the winds picked up, and
the bridge began to sway violently, barring our passage. A massive
voice boomed out: "I am the keeper of the bridge of Mog, and no-one may
pass without answering my riddle!". "We're fucked now", I muttered, and
asked this voice what his question was. The voice boomed out:
"If you're driving across the Sahara desert
In a fiberglass canoe
With the windows open
Then how many grasshoppers do you need
To kick the seeds off a dill pickle?"
We actually were fucked. Not wanting to be turned bSPLORKT, but at the same
time fearing what would happen if I answered wrong, I blurted out in
desperation, "It would take 42, because plutonium peanut butter repels
sentient apple cores". Suddenly, the winds died down. Hoping to high
hell this wasn't a trick, we made our way across the bridge. We marched
on for several more hours, then made camp for the night."
At that point, the old man paused his tale and quietly said that it
was time for lunch. From the folds of his robe (I don't know where the
robe came from, I could swear he was wearing a tye-dye at the bush
party), he produced two cleaned pheasent carcasses, which we roasted on
the fire, which was still burning with an intense glow on top of our
pillar.
III
After lunch, he continued his story. "The next few days were all a
blur to us. Each day, we would wake up, break camp, and make our way up
the increasingly difficult slopes of the Mountain of Light, then rest
again for the night. The air was growing colder and thinner each day,
but we were prepared. The blue glow at the top was growing brighter
with every step we took, beckoning us forwards. On the fourteenth
night, with the moon shining bright, we estimated that we would reach
the summit during the next five days.
This prediction, however, wasn't worth much. The next morning, we
awoke to a raging blizzard. The temperature had dropped to 25 below,
and the winds were howling like a wolf in heat. We plodded on anyways,
determined to find out what the hell was up there. By that night, we
had begun to feel the winds' bite. We set up camp in a snowdrift, but
we didn't get much sleep that night.
Out of the five men that formed our party, only three were to
survive the next day's ascent. The extreme cold had gotten to them, and
Andrew, before expiring, said to us, "Go forward, for have gone too far
to turn bSPLORKT". That night, one of the other survivors said that we
seemed a million miles away from all of eternity, and we believed him.
And the storm raged on...
The next two days were a absolute nightmare of cold, wind, snow and
death. Kevin had began to suffer from hypothermia, and we had looked
for shelter in order to look after Kevin and wait out the rest of the
storm. However, there was none to be found amongst the crags and
precipices of the Mountain of Light (whose name seemed ironic now, with
the sun blocked out by the storm). We buried him in a snowdrift, with
two enormous icicles marking his makeshift grave. That night, however,
our gloom was lifted by the fact that the storm seemed to be calming
down, and that we could see the bright glow at the summit shining like a
beacon in the snow. John and I would reach the summit the next day.
The next day, we began our final ascent without even bothering to
break camp. The ground became extremely treacherous, and we had to move
slowly as to not fall off the jagged cliffs near the summit. At around
3:30 in the afternoon, we were within 1 mile of the glow. At the centre
of the glow, we thought we could see an orb of solid blue. Just looking
at this orb blinded us. Just then, the ground below John's feet gave
way, and he plummeted over the edge. I would continue the quest alone.
As I got closer to the orb, streaks of lightning appeared in the blue
sky. A faint humming could be heard, which grew louder as I got closer
to the portal. I began to think what could lie on the other side. Was
it immortality, was it death, was it metamorphosis into a bowl of
strawberry sherbet, was it reincarnation? I wasn't sure, but I was
determined to find out what the hell I went through all this shit for.
When I got within a few feet of the orb, the air suddenly became
very warm. Strange visions appeared before me, and my hands were
shaking. Even though I was afraid of the unknown, I walked towards it
with solid determination. Just a few more steps now, and I'll be there.
At last, I extented my hand to touch it. To my surprise, my hand went
right through it. As I stepped through it, I didn't know what was
happening to me. First the sensation of flying, then floating, then the
falling. All around me, as far as I could see, was the sky. I was
falling, but not off of the mountain. I wasn't afraid, but I wondered if
this was death felt like.
As I continued my floating descent, I began to see visions:
landscapes, waterfalls, the sun, the moon, they were all liquid colour,
blending into each other to form one body. Then, against the bSPLORKTdrop
of raging fire, the liquid mass began to congeal, and took the form of
an enormous duck, which flew along with me in my descent. As we
continued down towards an unseen ground below, the duck spoke to me.
"QUACK!", it said, "I am the one who your people have sought for all of
eternity, and you alone were brave enough to seek me. The strength of
your spirit has brought you to me. Go forth and teach your people about
the ways of the duck, and your spirit shall be rewarded. Fear not, for
there are other faithful among your people. Find them, for there is
great strength in unity and fellowship". The great QUACK continued to speak
to me, but I do not remember hearing anything that he said. All I
remember was the floating, the falling, with the duck by my side,
followed by the blSPLORKTness.
When I awoke, I was lying in a meadow, with white crosses here and
there marking the resting places of those who had fallen. After making
sure I was alive, I began looking at these gravestones, which all had
beaks carved in the stones. Out of all the names, one stood out: that
of Helena. I didn't know anyone by that name, but it stuck in my head
and still haunts me to this day."
And with that, the old man ended his tale.
IV
We spent the night atop the pillar, with the bonfire still burning
brightly in the cold night air. The next morning, he said to me: "The
world has passed on. You must search for the meaning of QUACK, just as
I have done". Then the old mand and the pillar vanished in a flash of
blue light. Just as the flash hit my eyes, I could hear an
ear-splitting QUACK! coming from the sky. When I overcame the blindness
caused by the flash, I was lying with a couple of my friends in a tent.
The bush party had ended, and most people had gone home, although
several of us had camped out. Captain Tripps turned to me and asked:
"So, man, how was the acid?". I didn't even try to explain it, and we
all went to sleep.
Part Eight
Ikhnathon, Itsacon and their band of Merry Men
The Abandoned
And I walk. I walk away from you. I get smaller and smaller. Never turning
back. Never to return. You wish I would. But I won't. Your tears won't stop me.
Your screams won't cause me to turn. I am distant. You collapse onto the bricks.
Your world falls apart. And I am gone. Never to return. You are alone. No wind
no sound no light no god. You pray for something near. You look up. I'm gone.
The Disillusioned
And there you fade into the distance as I indifferently walk away. Into a new
world and out of this hellish place. Ah my love falls upon the ground. I do not
see but I do know. Yes I know. So I turn and run. But I cannot change direction.
Always running the same way. Head spins. Spins. SPins!
"Typical" I say.
UnRaelity
Clam clack cloom cleek clom cloom cluk click. And down the stairs he goes!
Underneath the world into his own raelity. The raelity of Rael. Down 'em steps
we fly. Down down we go! Whee! Don't slip now!
<we now become Rael instead of an outside observer>
Fuck these stairs suck. Nothing but small undersize concrete steps! You can't
even walk properly down them... It's like I'm doing little kicks so I can
flutter deeper into this fucking pit! Say, I don't even know where I am. Like I
just remember going somewhere in a flood or something, then I came out of this
jagged hole into a dark and bloody world. Yeah, I recall seeing a bunch of
wrappers and garbage littered about that place. Hell, those creatures left a lot
of shit around. And they didn't even burn it. How fucking evolved!
And some guy with purple and red splatters on him was sitting there. On the
Second Level stairway to The Mountains. The Stairway I can't get to. I don't
know why I can't get there. I think it's cause I have to pass through the bloody
dark place to get there. Oh well, the First Level stairway is fine with me. So
down I go!
Geezus, howmuch futher do I go? I think there's ice now. How do I know? Because
I fell and I'm still falling. Bashing along these icy bumps. So you're probably
wondering why I'm so laid back when I'm dying right? Well Hell. I'll tell you
why. My life was cheap labour. Call me Mr. Sweatshop. You know, I was shovelling
gruel into Crass Man's belly. But hard times hit and he came crashing down to
nothing. I hear he eats raspberries or something. But what's my point? Well, I
became Cynic #32.6 under him. I was trained to be indifferent with long hours
and hard work. But when they announced their new drug "Workkoma" I had to run.
GET OUT!
So here I am walking down stairs as usual. I really don't know where I'm going,
but it's not in the bloody dark world. Or is it? Wherever I am I'm safe. Don't
face nobody ever. I just keep running from what they call "evolution".
Was I not falling? Oh, yeah, I was. So used to it I forgot. Well, better stop
now. This is anal. Better expose my nose ring so it'll catch on something. Like
what if I fall to the bottom (wherever that is) and die?
-=FLASH=-
Ow! There. Now I've stopped. Nyuk. Oh shit, my nose is still falling I beleive.
And since it's not heated by my blood anymore it has frozen. So it's going
"clink clink clink" deeper into the hole.
AYE! Wait! Did I hear it stop? Clinks are gone? Am I at the bottom yet?
Hey! I am. Noseless but alive. That's what really matters. Me. 'Cause without me
living nothing would exist to me, cause I wouldn't be there. You know.
Well here I am. Presented with another 32 doors. But since I can't count, it
might be fifteen. Can you count em? At any rate, there's no way I'm choosing
one. The closest will do fine.
<back to the narrator>
Rael swings the large creosote covered door open. The smell is pungent in the
air. Like the way a railway track smells in the hot summer sun. Behind the door
is some sort of warehouse. Well, maybe a hangar. In the centre is a peculiar
sight. A bunch of retired vandalized vehicles parked beside one another. There
is snow on top of them and around them. An occasional blade of dead grass pokes
out of the snow, which by the way is dirty and brown. Some of the vehicles have
large dents in them. Some have their motors pulled out. All have broken glass.
All have smears of rust on their white and red paint.
The scene in the middle is perfectly rectangular and surrounded by a rope. In
front of the scene is a sign:
EXIBIT "A"
WORLD OF ANCIENT MAN
The tour guide goes on to explain the exibit: "In the 20th century they built
machines to last about 1/50th of a millenium. Apparently the manufacturers
sought to sell more after they wore out, hence increasing their 'Profit'"
Curious indeed
"What happened the the humans in charge of the corporations?" asked one of the
tourists.
"Apparently no one bought the vehicles anymore. Then they closed plants and the
workers revolted. It was a pity they all died in the recessional wars of 1994.
Obviously we know better now."
Tourist> "Mmmhummm. By the way, what is your name again sir?"
Guide> "Mond. Ylpmis Mond"
<back to Rael, but not inside>
Rael has decided to hide inside of one of these vehicles for a break. After all,
he missed out on the Workkoma like everyone else. Inside the vehicle of
preference there were a few intact seats. So Rael has a seat. Ahhh.
Always looking for info, he looks about the inside of the ancient vehicle. near
the ceiling there arepeices of cardboard with pretty pictures of products on
them. Apparently this was called "Advertising". And some of the cards were faded
and hanging loosely. Very silly indeed. Next he looks at the floor. On it is a
little packet of purple papers.
"Hmmmm, Transfer. Correspondance. What?"
In the packets are little holes. The bigger ones are V shaped. And above them
are smaller circular ones. Very odd.
"Hey, all the sixes are punched out. And this thing in the corner that says
'Destiny'. What is this?"
Peculiar.
Part Nine
The Accident that might have been
"Whuuuuiiiiiir...." The bus lumbers down the street on its usual stop and go routine. The passengers sit quietly staring out the window at the store fronts along the street. The bus slows to a stop and the doors swing open. A young girl with a wide collar shirt and flared jeans gets on. She pops a quarter into the coin slot and has a seat.
"HEY! The fare is 30 cents now!"
She returns to the front and adds a nickel. On the way back to her seat she pauses and looks up at a placard stating the 1977 fares.
"Oh." she mutters.
The four lanes of the street narrow to two. There are fewer stops and the bus speeds along the street. On its way to a suburb, it pulls onto an on ramp. The passengers are still staring at nothing through the windows. Dead looking.
Then it happened...
The driver seeing an 18 wheeler in the next lane speeds up to pull on. Likewise the truck driver does the same in an attempt to get ahead of the bus. Something went horribly wrong.
The bus finally came to a rest at the bottom of the ravine. The frame was bent severly causing the roof to be crumpled and misaligned. Smoke pours out of the back as the spinning wheels come to rest. A large pool of green diesel fuel forms in the sparse grass. Inside the bus is a bunch of crumpled corpses all pressed up against the broken windows on one side. The view is quickly obscured as the inside of the window turns a bright red.
A day later the bus appears just as it was the day before. Bent and crumpled, but devoid of carnage, shoved into a lot where many green and brown buses are parked. All are rusted out beyond beleif. Inside the bus the advertisements hang loosely. Some are missing. A book of transfers lies on the floor. Although the frame and roof were damaged, the interior has survived fairly well.
Part Ten
Ruin in the Back
The date is the same. Sometime in 1977. Four young men, all about 17 come through the woods. One carries a 12 pack of Labatts 50 in stubby bottles. Reaching a concrete foundation, they stop and sigh in releif. After all, they had to trudge through a dense forest for nearly half a mile just to find a place to indulge in underaged drinking.
Teen #1: "Hey man, why'd we come here? Like, it's just as bad in here as it is in the woods you know."
#2: "But we got somewhere to sit at least!"
#3: "Check this out! There's a hole under here! We can keep out beer n shit under here!"
#1: "Alright man! No turkeys can steal it that way"
Meanwhile #4 is unpacking his things inside the foundation. He breaks out a few beers and pops them open with his "Ville Du Quebec" bottle opener.
#4 "Here ya go. Lets get smashed!"
#1 "Fuck, let's go streaking afterwards"
All: "Yer a homo."
#1: "Fuck off"
The late afternoon sun shines through the leaves. A damp mildewy smell fills the air. The temperature was moderate. Not too hot, but not chilly either. Here alone in a vast sea of silences were four happy voices and the clinking of bottles. A breeze blows through the trees.
#3: "here, gimme some Off"
By now the damp smell is replaced by that of insecticide. The sun has lowered enough to completely darken the interior of the forest. Realizing this, the four teens decide to leave. Someone's parents would bitch if they were late. In a drunken stupor they shove the last 3 beers into the hole and leave. The last guy dissappears through a wall of ivy.
In the distance: "Ow, you little shit, you let that branch fly into my face on purpose!"
The crunching sound fades, but the laughter lingers on for a while.
And then all is silent.
The ruin slithers to the left. In the process the back wall caves in partially. The dirt all around it is disturbed. And once again. Silence.
A new crunching sound fades in. This time it's a hermit of some sort. In his possession are several odd items: A banana seat, a car battery and some glasses. Seeing the ruin gave him hope. A possible home.
<we become the hermit>
"I aint gotten no sleep in days. That hole looks mighty damn comfy. Aint no pigs gonna fin' me in there."
So I gos in the hole just to sleep. but instead I fine's a case a ber. Man oh man I aint had no ber for a long time. But it aint fer to steal it. Maybe I'll leave the person a gif'. hell, whut I need with this here banana seat thing. Fuck, it's theirs. I got me BEER!
<bask to the narrator>
In the hole he suddenly finds comfort as he is drunken beyond reality. The sharp rocks somehow make a nice pillow.
A song blows through the night
And away he sleeps
While here I weeps
Forgotten like him
Just can't win
The source of the songs in unknown, but almost like a ghost it envelops the site of the ruin.
And away he sleeps
Tonight I'll creep
Move over the hole
The one that eats
And in he'll go
Where I don't know
With the last words the ground shakes. The ruin slithers to the left once again. Suddenly our friend Mr. Hermit awakens. The comfort is gone as his world slithers. Beneath him a long hole begins to open aong the wall. The hole bubbles with mangled bodies entrapped in broken glass. Muffled screams lick his shoe and suck him under.
"Let go o me you damn freak. Go away evil spirit. Damn you! DAMN YOU!"
STOP
And no one found him. And no one cared. And no one came back for years. And by then nothing remained.
Irrelevant issues are the stuff dreams are made of.
Table of Contents
=================
Chapter One: The Book of irrelevance
Part One................. Rules for being human
Part Two................. The search for happiness
Part Three............... The Bus Of Destiny
Part Four................ The Book of Floyd
Chapter Two: Organization of the Church
Part One................. Hierarchy in the Holy Church
Part Two................. Symbolic Places and Objects
Part Three............... Ceremonies of The Church
Chapter Three: Carefully edited out
Chapter Four: Application
The Holy Book of Our Irrelevance
==================================
RULES FOR BEING HUMAN
1. "You will receive a body. You may like it or hate it, but it
will be yours for the entire period this time around."
2. "You will learn lessons. You are enroled in a full-time
informal school called life. Each day in this school you will
have the opportunity to learn lessons. You may like the lessons
or think them irrelevant and stupid."
^^^^^^^^^^
3. "There are no mistakes, only lessons. Growth is a process of
trial and error and experimentation. The 'failed' experimenters
are as much a part of the process as the experiment that
ultimately 'works.'"
4. "A lesson is repeated until learned. A lesson will be
presented
to you in various forms until you have learned it. When you have
learned it, you can then go on to the next lesson."
5. "Learning lessons does not end. There is no part of life that
does not contain its lessons. If you are alive, there are lessons
to be learned."
6. "'There' is no better place than 'here.' When your 'there' has
become a 'here,' you will simply obtain another 'there' that
will, again, look better than 'here.'"
7. "Others are merely mirrors of you. You cannot love or hate
something about another person unless it reflects to you
something you love or hate about yourself."
8. "What you make of life is up to you. You have all the tools
and
resources you need. What you do with them is up to you. The
choice is yours."
9. "Your answers lie inside you. The answers to life's questions
lie inside you. All you need to do is look, listen and trust."
10. "You will, along the way, forget all this."
THE SEARCH FOR HAPPINESS
1. "You will never find joy in the material world. It will only
get boring, and you'll need something better. Joy can be found
in one's self and in others only"
2. "The best things in life are free. Paying for stuff just
satisfies the capitalist greed that exists in our society"
3. "Irrelevancy is the only true escape in this world. Live in a
surreal world and use your imagination. If you believe in
something surreal, it becomes real to you."
4. "Find your pleasure with the basic things you have. With very
little you can do very much"
5. "Divinity is a concept that dwells in one's self and in
others. Anyone can feel close to this divinity while alone or
with a special person. The passion that exists between two lovers
is the strongest form of this sacred divinity"
6. "Let not religion control your life. You have the freedom to
believe in whatever the hell you want. Morality is what YOU make
it!"
7. "Don't take things for granted. One day you will lose
everything."
8. "Don't screw with other people. You'll get screwed back when
you least expect it."
9. "Laugh your problems away. Others can't touch what's inside of
you. Just tell em to lighten up, or fuck off"
10. "Irrelevancy and confusion are fun. Only you know what the
hell is really happening"
THE BUS OF DESTINY
(The holy book of Cadomark)
An Irrelevant story making little sense:
One day, a god boomed out, "LET ALL ROCKERS GO TO HULL!!!"
(*AHEM*) Sorry, wrong commercial.
One fateful night, while Abacab and Cadomark were on-route
to a party, Cadomark began to have a strange feeling. He heard a
voice echoing ominously inside his head, saying, "All shall be
revealed when you see the Bus of Destiny."
Since Cadomark hadn't been drinking much that night (yet),
he began to wonder what it was he heard, and what significance it
held for him.
Later that night, as they were walking past the Baseline bus
station, Cadomark saw a bus with the number "666" posted. At
that moment, Abacab turned to him and said, "Dude, I've got this
great idea for a religion!"
Cadomark had seen the Bus of Destiny. Who's destiny it was
to be was not yet clear, but no doubt would be later.
At this point, the voice returned. Cadomark recognized it
as the voice of the god of Modemism, from whom he had not heard
in a long time. And this (with a slight liberalized translation)
is what he said: "It's been a long time, but now is the time for
you to sever from Quack. Form a new religion with Abacab, and
call it what you will, but it must retain the basic belief of
Modemism:
That all religions are nothing but a sham; a bad joke upon
humankind. Oh, and before I go, you must know this: My name is
Loki. I am your father."
Dazed and confused, Cadomark sat down and watched a pair of
drunken infantile teenaged girls run around, scantily clad, in
sub-zero weather. An idea came to him. He smiled his wolfish
smile, then boarded the Bus of Destiny.
Having boarded the Bus of Destiny, the first thing
Cadomark noticed was the rather mangy look of the bus driver.
He looked quite skinny. In fact, skeletal would have been a
better word.
Stretching out his arm, the Busdriver of Destiny indicated
that bus fare would have to be paid before entry would be
allowed.
Having noticed the fare-box, Cadomark racked his brains.
It was obvious that no coin manufactured on this mortal plane
would fit the slot. It was also obvious that this was the first
test (of what sort and why, nobody knew.)
Finally, he looked at the problem a little more closely. It
wasn't a coin slot so much as a hungry maw. It was just that
it looked exactly like OC Transpo coin slots that... well, no
matter. He took a box of Honey Nut Cheerios, poured some
into the cup surrounding the coin slot, and added milk.
The contents disappeared into the fare box with a big
slurp, a happy belch, then a long sigh. Charon, the Busdriver
of Destiny, unblocked the way and let Cadomark take a seat.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
A long while later, the Busdriver indicated that this was
the last stop. It was time for Cadomark to disembark.
He found himself standing in a very gloomy area. All that
was visible in the mist was a large, vaguely familiar,
dust-covered shape. As he strode up to it, he could see a
flickering redness glowing from within.
Suddenly, a loud voice boomed out, "THIS IS THE GATE OF
VOLVO, PORTAL TO THE DIMENSION OF FIRE!!"
Suddenly, he recognized the shape for what it once was--a late
model sedan. He stepped around it, wiping the dust from the
windshield. All the windows were heavily coated with soot
from the inside, preventing easy visibility. And strangely
enough, there was only one door, on the driver's side
(assuming it was a North American car.)
With a shrug, he opened the door and stepped inside the Gate
of Volvo.
Cadomark found himself in a very large... antechamber. The
floor was composed of redly-glowing sand, and the walls were
flickering in a peculiar fashion, reminiscent of fire. It was
hot. Real hot. Sweat began to bead off his brow.
He peeled off his winter jacket, and turned to hang it on
a nearby coat hook. As soon as he let go, though, it burst into
flames.
Apparently, it was a whole lot hotter than he thought. A
sudden scuffle of feet brought his attention back to the room
again.
The pair of scantily clad females he had seen before had
entered the room. "Welcome," they chorused.
"Great," Cadomark thought. "Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum."
The blonde girl slapped him across the face. "Never
say those nasty things again!" (Apparently, they could read
thoughts.) "If you want to leave here, you must learn
quickly." The brunette gave him a jolt with a mental
cattle-prod to reinforce the concept.
Not much inclined towards pain, Cadomark began to take the
whole affair a little more seriously.
"Now," they said, "You are here to learn the great
arts of chemical destruction."
The brunette left, and reappeared with a Cart of Holding
(tm). It held a large number of chemicals, some of them never
seen by Cadomark before.
"Your training begins now."
-----------------------------------------------------------------
A long time passed, during which many chemistry
experiments and much cattle prodding took place.
Abused and tired, Cadomark stumbled back out of the Gate
of Volvo, and found himself... still talking to Abacab at the
Baseline station. Apparently, no time had elapsed, and he had
never even entered the Bus of Destiny in the first place.
Abacab and Cadomark walked about the station for awhile,
then returned to the shelter with the bus-monitor. Abacab
then nudged him, pointed in a direction, and said, "They must
be drunk, eh?"
Cadomark turned to look. It was the two scantily clad
girls again. One of them winked at him surreptiously, with
a broad smile on her face. He shuddered, and turned away.
As he stared solemnly at the ground, he could hear a now
somewhat familiar voice speaking to him softly:
"My son, it is important for you to realize that to you,
knowledge IS power. Practise your skills, and continue to learn
as you go along..."
The voice slowly faded out.
Cadomark then suddenly realized that he wasn't wearing his
jacket. Even though it was frigid, he seemed to have no need
for a coat at all. Strangely enough, though, nobody else
noticed.
BOOK OF FLOYD GECKO
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is the story of how I came to be Purveyor Of
Paradoxes.It relates the facts behind the history, the history
behind the facts, the laughter behind the truth, and the truth
behind the banana.
One day, as I waited for a bus to arrive, I was sitting
with a book in my hand, and reading about paradoxes and
mathematical logic, for my mind had forgotten the doctrine of
Illogic, and omitted the true Gods of Irrelevance.
I read about the first number SO BIG that it could never
possibly be interesting to anybody, and I thought how amazing it
was that it was the FIRST one like that.
I read about sentences that claimed to be false, and why
they were true. And I wondered about that one, but eventually
figured it out, for my mind, in accepting the illogic of it, had
wandered to the true path once more, and was distracted from the
book.
Instead, I wondered things. Like why the sky is green,
and whether pigs have wings, of ships and shoes and sealing wax,
of cabbages and kings. For I had read, a while before, that some
people are trying to pass off cabbages as human beings, dressing
them up in suits and sending them out to become chartered
accountants.
I wondered why it was that nothing momentous ever happens
to people while waiting for busses. Some God must have heard me,
whether it be Eris, MOO, Penguin, or the One True God Of
Irrelevance, QUACK, I cannot say. But a strange feeling came
over me.
I grew dizzy, and my vision clouded with a haze of light,
my knees became weak, and my hearing was filled with a quiet
roar. I felt my body go numb, and I fell over into the snow.
Nobody was there to help me, and so I lay for maybe thirty
seconds before I returned to my senses. I knew now that
something momentous was about to happen.
As I stood up, a bus pulled up. I stared in
apprehension. I recognized it as the Bus Of Destiny, number 666.
Charon waited inside with a grin on his face. I stared him down,
and ran to the back of the bus, seeking escape. Another bus
waited there, and so I clambered aboard, not pausing to see what
bus it was.
I displayed my pass, and walked fearfully past row upon
row of blank-faced passengers. They all stared straight ahead,
not looking at me for an instant. They all had glazed eyes,
staring vacantly into infinity.
So I seated myself at the back of the bus, and asked one
next to me which bus it was. There was no answer from him, but
a strange voice appeared in my head. "You Ride The Bus Of Doom,"
it said, and I stared wide eyed at the passenders around me. I
rushed to the door and tried to wrest it open. It resisted me.
I smashed the emergency handle window and pulled the handle. The
doors continued to resist me.
I sat down again, waiting to see what would happen.
After an hour or two, the same strange sensation came over me
again, and I sank to the floor of the bus, grasping weakly at the
bars beside me.
When I regained my senses, I was sitting on the wooden
floor of some kind of stage, in front of a huge crowd. They were
chanting loudly, but I couldn't make out what it was that they
were saying. I stood, and a cheer went up, as if they were
expecting me to speak. They continued chanting, but now I could
hear what it was.
"DEATH TO ALL FANATICS! DEATH TO ALL FANATICS!"
They went on, pounding their fists in the air with each
cry of the strident chant.
"DEATH TO ALL FANATICS!"
They quieted as I approached the podium and cleared my
throat. I stood waiting for something to happen, then began to
speak against my will.
"You're probably wondering why I've gathered you here
today," said my voice. "Well so am I."
A hush fell over the crowd as they all stopped
whispering,shifting uncomfortably, and unwrapping food. They
turned as a whole to stare at me.
"I have been sent here to you on the 1729 bus, and I must
say how annoying it has been for me to go though this ordeal to
speak to you now without any idea of what I'm supposed to say."
"What I am about to tell you is the absolute truth."
They waited expectantly.
"What I just said was an utter lie." I still had no
control over what I said. I only wished that whoever had put me
here would take me back soon, before I got completely lost in my
own speech.
And indeed, my wish was granted. I thought at once that
everything was going my way.
I was driving a car down an american freeway on the left
side of the road. I swerved and dodged, reminded of the old
saying:
"When everything seems to be coming your way, you must be in the
wrong lane." But that wasn't the worst of my troubles. I can't
drive.
I blacked out, of course.
Some minutes or hours of darkness later, I awoke in the
snow next to a bus stop with people all around me, wearing a hot
and stuffy suit of armor. I didn't know what was happening,
except that I was hot and stuffy, so I removed my helmet.
Through the crowd of people came a knight in dark armor riding a
black horse. The people stood aside angrily as if it was only
someone wanting to get in line. The knight raised his sword over
his head, and spoke in a booming voice.
"At last I have you, Sir Knight! Your life is forfeit!"
I stared, incomprehending.
"Now I ask you a simple question! Answer it truthfully,
and I will spare you! Answer falsely, and I will kill you!"
I looked around for another knight somewhere, for I had
no horse, and I hadn't noticed my armour yet. As I looked, his
sword grew red hot, and steam began to curl from it.
He dashed my helmet from my hand and bellowed.
"WILL YOU ANSWER MY QUESTION?"
I realized he was talking to me.
"What is the question?"
"Will I kill you, or spare you?"
I saw his flaming sword. "Evidently you will kill me."
He considered. His helmet grew red hot, and screams came
from within. He raged, and smoke came from inside his head.
Then he fell from his horse, and into the snow. A great cloud of
steam went up, obscuring all vision, and when it cleared, I was
back at the empty bus stop, wearing my normal clothes. A sword
lay on the ground before me, with writing on it.
As I picked up the sword and read the writing, I realized
the paradox I had spoken. If he killed me, I would have spoken
truthfully, so he would have had to spare me. If he spared me, I
would have been lying, and so he would have had to kill me. I
had never realized what a powerful weapon a paradox could be.
I read the inscription on the sword.
"PROVIDED TO THE PURVEYOR OF PARADOX"
I put it away, and got on the next bus that arrived, only
to find that my book was no longer about logic, but about
prophets, and at that point I knew my destiny.
And such is the story of how I became Purveyor Of
Paradox, and how MOO and Irrelevance were joined into one.
Actually, that's got almost nothing to do with
Irrelevance.
Or was that the point?
At any rate:
So Ends The Book Of
FLOYD GECKO: PURVEYOR OF PARADOXES
DEATH TO ALL FANATICS!
MORTE AD OMNI FANATICOS!
MORT AU TOUT LES FANATIQUES!
CHAPTER TWO
The Organization of the Church.
==============================
HIERARCHY IN THE CHURCH
All are equal, and all have a special role to play in this world
of ours. The role of Great Profit Abacab is to lead the Church.
The role of Cadomark, Pyro-Chemical Advisor, is to prepare for
the holy ceremonies of irrelevance. The Role of Artifactual
Caretaker El Cid is to protect and care for holy Irrelevant
Artifacts. All who wish to think irrelevantly like us, will
receive a role, and it will be included in the following list.
More than one role may be voluntarily accepted.
Abacab: Great Profit, Author of the Holy Book, Incendiary Joker
Cadomark: Chemical Engineer, Co-author of the Holy Book
El Cid: Artifactual Caretaker
Longshot: Voice of Reason at Holy Ceremonies, Minister of Truth
Floyd Gecko: Purveyor of Paradoxes, Co-author of the Holy Book
SYMBOLIC PLACES AND OBJECTS
Symbolism is merely a figment of our imagination, however if we
believe in it becomes real. The Ruin is the first example of
how we apply out symbolism. A demolished railroad building that
played a role in the world of the 20's is no longer of any
importance to anyone. Our believing in it as a Holy place renews
the role of the location as a Holy gathering place and location
to
hold ceremonies. Our belief in the place has made it Holy in the
real world as well as our surreal thoughts. The east end ruins
and Mouth of Quack are equally as holy. Abacab and Cadomark have
both felt the inner divinity come upon us... a figment of our
imagination. We believe it is holy, therefore it is.
Objects are that which we can feel and grasp. When one merges
symbolic thoughts with ordinarily mundane objects a Holy Object
or Artifact results. Each object has a distinct purpose. The Box
of Cid is the place where any smaller objects are kept. The
Rubber Chicken of MOO is used as part of MOOist initiation
ceremonies, which often occur concurrently with Ceremonies of
Irrelevance.
CEREMONIES OF THE CHURCH
Holy ceremonies are performed mainly at The Ruin. Upon the Slab
of Irrelevance a great fire is lit using any nearby materials.
The next step in the holy ceremony is as follows: Cadomark or a
suitable substitute for Pyro-Chemical Advisor unveils assorted
materials to be used as he instructs. The most impressive
occurrence created using these objects is the Supreme moment of
the ceremony. At this point the inner divinities of All surge to
the forefront as the sensation of awe. Then the fire will
continue to burn as All sit back and ponder what occurred. Abacab
or another member of the church may provide the Holy Brew. The
Holy Brew is also known to create a sensation of well being and
of a surreal divinity. There are no said rules on how this
ceremony shall proceed. It may proceed at any place, at any time,
with anyone or with any materials. It must merely be performed in
the name of Irrelevance.
CHAPTER THREE
Not here anymore
================
CHAPTER FOUR
Becoming a member of the Church
===============================
There is really nothing to it. It's as simple as stating what
role you wish to play in the Holy Church and living up to your
role. Attend a Ceremony to see what we're about. If you have no
contact with any members, just call yourself Holy Missionary of
Irrelevance and spread the teachings of the church. Any place you
want is Holy as long as you believe in it. Likely whoever
supplied you with this Book has information on how to contact the
Authors to answer any questions you may have.
*********** And this brings to a close The Holy Book ***********
Peace!
Final section of the book (RENUMBERING EM IS TOO ANOYING EVERy time i make a
change]
The End.
Last updated on this weird 14th day of November in the year
Nineteen Hundred and Ninety One at OTTAWA ONTARIO CANADA
Unveiled for no apparent reason.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
° FUTHER READING: °
° °
° THE GREAT BOOK OF °
° °
° Ü Ü ÜÜ ÜÜ °
° ÛßÜßÛ Û Û Û Û °
° Û Û ßÜÜß ßÜÜß °
° °
° YOU *MUST* READ THIS °
° °
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
The people behind this:
Abacab, the Great Profit of QUACK! who has gone out of his way to
start this wonderful new cult for all you lost souls looking for
a RELEVANT religion. If you ever want to talk to Abacab you can
always reach him on the MOO echo, or in Ottawa Ont. on his BBS.
Yeah, The Roundhouse. 236-4519. Or was that already at the
beginning of this book?
Cadomark, the Official PyroChemical Technician of QUACK! who
possesses a unique knowledge of chemistry which has made him an
excellent asset to our pyroman activities. I guess after living
near Sarnia you'd know about chemicals to huh?
The Most Evil Blasphemous Asshole Heretic Son Of A Bitch, our
pal, E.D. Brebis, who exists solely for the purpose of comic
releif, and provision of Evil Insults. Also official Secret
Vistor of And Placer of Nails to Make Signs In Of The Ruin. Poor
guy lives in Quebec, so we understand his condition.
and Floyd Gecko, the ultra weird supergenious and silly hat
wearer (not official) of QUACK! He's also the High Preest of MOO,
but in MY religion (which is better) he is merely an Executive
Commitee dude. I guess in general we're equal. yeah. thats the
tiquet...
-----------------------------------------------------------------
What is you name/pseudo:
Where do you live?:
What is your phone number in the form (###)###-####
Where did you hear about QUACK?
Have you ever planned out the perfect Murder?
Elaborate:
What is the most exciting pyro fun you've ever had:
Are you a virgin?
Are you of legal drinking age?
Will you visit The Ruin with us?
Have you filled out the MOO application?
Are you prepared to paticipate in local MOO/QUACK events?
Have you read the entire Quack book?
Do you eat coffee grinds?
What do you hope to be with this application?
- Mildly Interested member (instant acceptance)
- Run of the Mill member (anyone can apply, however demotion will
occur for lack of participation)
- Executive commitee member (limited acceptance)
- Most Honorable Duck (acceptance for one)
- A puddle of pus
- A Duck
- A Cow
- A Pig
Are you any of the below:
1.MOOIST
2.OINKBLATT
3.PYRO
Now simply fill in this application with a text editor and upload
it to my BBS OR use my online application. If you are filling
this out on paper, mail to:
Note: You may attempt to claim any position you wish, however I
will accept members on a first come first serve basis. If you
choose a high rank, you MUST attempt to spread this religion
around your locality and live up to your requirements. Find a
holy place in your area and paint both Holy symbols in it, The
Halfy and the Tri-Beak, including MOO OMM and QUACK under each
respective symbol. Refer to the Holy Symbols Section and the City
Zones And Heirarchy Section in the Book of QUACK!
-----------------------------------------------------------------
What is you name?:
What Holy name would you like (an alias, NOT a title)?:
What city and area do you live in?:
What is your phone number in the form (###)###-####
Where did you hear about QUACK?
Have you ever planned out the perfect Murder?
Elaborate:
What is the most exciting pyro fun you've ever had:
Are you a virgin?
Are you of legal drinking age in your province/state?
Will you find a Holy Place?
Have you filled out the MOO application?
Are you prepared to paticipate in local MOO/QUACK events?
Have you read the entire Quack book?
Do you eat coffee grinds?
What do you hope to be with this application?
- Mildly Interested member (instant acceptance)
- Run of the Mill member (anyone can apply, however demotion will
occur for lack of participation)
- Executive commitee member (limited acceptance)
- Most Honorable Duck/Local Leader of QUACK! (acceptance for one
per city)
- A puddle of pus
- A Duck
- A Cow
- A Pig
JUST SAY QUACK!
Fluids soak the trodden cinder soil
Unnoticed over the smell of diesel oil
Which burns in a distant tower
"KILL THE FLOWER! KILL THE FLOWER!"
But there is no flower no power
Gone is the tower the power
But you are here so near
And I say goodbye to my fear
And I know I'll run away
'Cause I'm screamin "AINT NO WAY"
Aint no way today tomorrow
Merely the sickly sorrow
In which I drown
But do not frown
We get better we do
And I'll always look to you
