|T O P I C|
July 1st 2013, 22:08 CEST by LPMiller
I believe Planetcrap is trying to achieve sentience.
|C O M M E N T S|
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We're all still here.
Yes, I am aware, which is why the almost mysterious failure of an angelic chorus, praising and heralding my arrival, has, in addition to its nascent presence, to have appeared by now, is slightly puzzling.
No angelic chorus. This is hot-sort-of-warm war time. Wash one's hands. Comb one's brows. Flush one's plumbing. Ah, just imagine the plumbing. Imagine an angel, bred to consume feces and urine, and radiate pure, cosmic, magic energy.
Poop feeds us all. Crap, on the other hand, is just an expression, and the larger metaphor is, it is everything that comes out of the chute and, well, hey, wait.
Is not the Morn, the grandest way to meet the future as it comes? He coded his site, with the possibility of this happening in mind. Thank you, thank you, thank you. * Also, seriously sir, I mean, Mr. M., you've got kind of a thing there about poop. Is that on purpose? Oh? A security lock? It is great. Anything you want to protect so bad that you'll threaten me with your shit, of course, by all means, I am happy to comply.
OTOH, I already am my own angelic chorus, and after LAST TIME when I TOTALLY REVERSE-PUNK'D YOU (yes, I still have the real jafd), I certainly didn't expect anyone to take my post at face value.
Until. lwf, it is lovely to have you here to home. CITIZEN IDENTIFIED. Now, please step this way, gently, and to the back, and the left, because lwf is an IRL girl.
Possibly the hottest one ever here, actually. Certainly simmering and blazing after this post is read--(FUCK how does he do this???)--but all of this is an act, anyway.
Start spreading the word. I'm here, and today. Look, look, I know it is not like I'm, say, the capo di tutti capi of the obsolete and hollow power structure that lords its baseless dominion, not far from the best party towns and the best mare-breeding stock on THE PLANET, but, hey, look.
One can either believe that I'm such a filthy beggar that I'll put down the heroin pipe long enough to still honor 9/11 with yet another bullshit "report," or... well, there is no or, because any of you who do not know what is up of late, well... you guys might not be old school enough.
Like, here's a good one. Desiato, one of my favorite individuals on the planet, NO MATTER HOW MANY CHILDREN HE IS RESPONSIBLE FOR MUTILATING, was all freaking! the! fuck! out! on 9/11.
The original 9/11, mind you. Anyway, I'm at home in my jammies, watching the greatest show on any Earth, munching on my Fudgsicle, and, like, the two towers have just vanished.
Everyone is stunned in one way or another. Some say, the Earth's ionosphere was bathed in a 5 second pulse, giving everyone the emulation of electro-convulsive therapy, but I know different.
There was no shock. There was simply awareness. "omg omg omg om... hey, wait a minute. I'm laughing. I am not crying. Heart? Heart? Where are you?"
Insert random trivia fact: jafd is not a Time Lord. jafd does not have two hearts. jafd does not have one heart. jafd is... bzzt.
Anyway, whatever phylactery (truly, no better word, ever) I was using then to hide my EM signature (or, heartbeat, whatever you guys call it in whatever grade you guys got those crayons in), was spinning like a top.
It gave me pause. While all the rest of you around me, in my immediate awareness, that is, was just freaking out! omg! people dying!, little, old, pathetic me had already spent a good forty minutes earlier, while most people were freaking about who was going to get blamed for this, I had already become cognizant that everyone in the towers was going to die that day.
Or, you know, "die" from "history," but whatever. I digress again. You counting at home, kids? They're counting in Utah, so what the fuck ever.
For the last time, the simple fact that those things metamorphosed into whatever the fuck light was being sourced from at the velocity the images were directed to be presented, simply outright proved ET oversight.
Keeping up with me? Oh, good. Putin's letter sort of opened the picnic basket on being a good American citizen, but, really, how long can that basket stay open, with the likes of /someone fat on PC/ still around?
You feel that one, pal? You do? Oh, I bet you do. Don't worry, the other lucky contestants don't know what they felt, and you're the luckiest one. I still love you, and whatever someone told you about me, was, you know, a lie.
So. The Earth-riggers, almost all of them on any given plane, simply have no real understanding of Vladimir Putin vs., say, Vladimir Lenin.
Isn't there a dancing bear called Seal Team Six? Oh well, I digress. A lot. Oh, baby. Die Die Die gress gress... wait, what does "the gress" mean in European? Hang on, let me ask any one of the multiple, spectacularly fluent women that I've ever known, who speak German.
They all tell me it all has to go through Angela. I kinda figured that. Wouldn't it be awesome if Morn were Angela Merkel? hahaha, ah, well, actually... it wouldn't, since I would have just blown his act.
Remember, kids, the war on terror is over. The war on actual threats to the Gaian genome/biodome has hardly even started. Save your tickets to punch, trust me.
Scott Miller! Come on down! Now, go away!
Seriously, there was a time, so innocent, so naive, that not only was jafd considered annoying (who is annoyed by love? my girl's husband, boom-tish), but that sleazeball real estate developer actually took time out of HIS day, in hopes of RUINING mine.
You cheap bastards seriously owe me large coin for the viral marketing I did on that vaporware project. Seriously. NO ONE will believe what I just said. Thus, the debt cannot be paid, the debt is valid, and as your ehtos is already in breach, I can just waive the invalid neurophysical document, or... make a paper voodoo doll out of it.
I couldn't do any of this -before- y'all actually tried to harm me, but now I guess I can. I have no idea why I would, however... because I could certainly just use the claw.
So anyway. Back to Desiato. I forget exactly why I do not want to say exactly why, but let's say--I had a permission slip.
While all the rest of you were freaking out because some old-ass buildings were demolished (dude, the new buildings have fiber) and were being afraid that You! Were! Next! (hey, maybe that was sort of the point of doing it so brazenly), I was giggling about the, as I imagined, 20,000 people I envisioned being caught in those stupid, profit driven, old-ass King Kong climbing no-longer-the-tallest-building-ever thing.
This was before we found out that they ensured that they hit the building on someone's day off. Who? Bueller? Bueller? Well, whatever.
Okay, so stay with me, because this is great. There's this guy, and he's saying, he's saying, okay, I can tell you how I know, but let me tell it this way...
LET ME TELL IT THIS WAY. THANK YOU. Anyway, this r-tard on a bit of a good day, he's all "oh Lord Jesus save me and perserve me from (joining you in Heaven without my, you know, stuff down here, without being able to warn) *gulp* an ATTTTTTTACK!!!!!!
You get the idea. The guy is in actual wide-eyed unable to think panic. I didn't read Malcom Gladwell until later, but I already knew what the feeling was like--it is how I felt whenever I thought about having to work in a prison all day, a tube all afternoon, and MAYBE some comfort before sleep, instead of, you know, elsewise--and something about him being under the impression that he had any right to be afraid of anything except his own massive ignorance, irked me.
What can I say? I am only human. Moving on.
So he asks the room--which is completely cognitively brain-zapped, remember, except for me! I think with my clitoris, after all--"guys... I'm scared on the tippy top floor of a big building, 1200 miles away from what just happened. I am being told by my overseers that I should stay put, everything is fine. But, I have a family! I just had my son circumcised... no, wait, MY SON AND WHAT IS LEFT OF HIS PENIS IS NO ONE'S BUSINESS BUT MINE AND THE DOCTOR AND THE KNIFE AND THE hey where'd that bit of skin go? Oh, fuck it. Anyway, sorry, I just couldn't stop thinking about infants and their puny manflesh. So, where was I? Oh, yeah, so, should I leave the building and go home?"
And let me tell you, I didn't have to think a minute--I was right in there in with the flow of eye on our sea, and everyone is like, no, yes, maybe, who cares, who could have done this??
I think in the middle of thinking strongly "I cannot believe these people are missing out on the opportunity to become The Goldstein because they are afraid of aliens, lol" I pipe up and say, quite brilliantly, I thought:
"Dude, don't be a fool. Don't listen to these people. You have a family. You must abandon the post you were ordered to stay at, climb down 80 flights of stairs, don't you dare get in that elevator, fatty, and then drive home, in case, you know, a fucking disintegration beam hits your house, you want to be there with your family.
I remember it like it was twelve years ago, instead of twelve years and six days. (by the way, Morn, I apologize for taking you off the anniversary coverage. Your scheissebride is truly waiting!) I remember not even thinking for A MOMENT, about the potential damage I might be doing to someone's life.
I just remember thinking, wow, this guy doesn't deserve to have a job, if he is willing to stay there to earn wealth off the backs of human suffering, but isn't willing to admit that deep down, he's been programmed to believe that the only way to protect his genome, is to defend to the death his right to make it only useful to his own agenda.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where did that come from? Did any of you see that? Well, yeah, anyone reading this would, but... is anyone reading it?
Caryn Law's husband. Come on down! You know, there's a bridge down here, with your name on it. Okay, back to the story.
Which goes like this. When the guy realized that he had ostracized himself, seriously impacted his ability to be deemed fit for 'sensitive' tasks, and been one of THE VERY FIRST PEOPLE on "The List," I bet he was fucking pissed.
I was pissed when he told me I was a pervert for inquiring as to his decision to spill blood, but that's okay--I took my mark and made even good.
Now, most of this story is fabricated--telepathy on a neural net node doesn't count as 'reality' even if someone BY CHANCE%% happens to be 100% correct, right? Hells yeah, Semper Fi!--but I can confirm that I never saw that guy again, not by that handle, not by that attitude, and not by any other name he stole from some legitimate author.
Or, not? Anyway, I sure would like to apologize to that guy. Mostly for not even noticing that I had casually acted on a whim and profoundly changed the course of someone's life, someone that I didn't only not even know, but I thought I knew well enough to decide to become the person who drove him to act, you know, just because I could.
And, he asked, and, there as no one left.
So. lwf. Sorry I outed you. I like how they trotted you out as the sacrifical lamb--oh, look, it's jafd, only amish acronym still pretends to like him, cry for him--and no one would ever have to know how my heart lept into my chest at how happy I am to have been assigned to you.
I never told anyone, but the instant you first started posting? Love. love love love. Rather odd, actually. Never a mistake, never a reason, never any understanding or even a reason to even think about revealing it... until, just now.
Maybe it's not Vladimir, maybe it is Karl Marx. Whatever. I salute the acknowledgement of the... fuck, I don't know. Is this Nagual, or is this Tonal, or is this the one where someone decided it would be funny to rain... I mean, cause an ecological disaster right over the 1/50th of the NATION that The President was... growing his monoatomic cannabis in?
Well, you know, whatever. It hardly matters. I'd like to point out my maginificent edifice one last time before I dismantle it by stating for the record, "I have never been inside Edward Snowden."
You guys will all be noticing a substantial change in my future postings. Open-trans code text is an unbelievably time and energy consuming activity, and now that I really, really never have to HAVE to do it again, it's like knowing tthis is the last time I have to use T9.
Not Terminator Nine. Terminator Nein. So three of them left. Boom-tish!
Okay, so, hey, lwf. (I burned the memory of what it stood for, remember asking) It is good to see you. (I cannot see you, pineal gland needs food, badly) How have you been? (Pretty fucking awesome, actually, if you drew the straw to greet jafd on the first throw, it is not like there would ever have been another chance for me to come back after working on a Purple Op for the last twelve years.
Yes, yes, there is no such thing as a purple op. What am I, grandiosely making things up? Who would do such a thing... consciously, deliberately, and in direct violation of some secret UN resolution, or something or other? I mean, I wouldn't... deliberately engaging in cyber and/or eco-terrorism is so totally against the law, they will not even let you get to your car before finding a way to blow you up. Maybe with a glazed doughtnut and a hooker. But I digress.
I remember when Uncle Jeet got banned. I felt sad. I didn't know why he got banned. By the time I found out, I was placed in an infinite regression, the only escape from which, of course, was to... CONFESS.
WHERE DID YOU COME FROM? DO YOU HAVE A PENIS? HOW DO YOU EAT? WHERE DID YOU COME FROM? IT IS VITAL THAT WE KNOW WHY YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT NO PENIS. IS IT SOME KIND OF CODE? HOW CAN YOU HOLD PENIS AND NO-PENIS AT THE SAME TIME? YOU ARE A DOG AMONG GODS PRETENDING TO BE MEN.
And, just like that, access was granted. It is a hell of a story, let me tell you... oh, wait, I just did let myself tell you. And then, like a responsable citizen, I put the pin back in DA SEXBOMB (ow!) and gently returned to my line in front of the mind euthanizer.
Now, mind you, I just wrote all that out for you guys, mostly to show off for lwf. (flattered, comradeski!) However, I do that shit like five times a day, on average. Sometimes more, if I can get inspired while managing to find a way to be downwind of the mares.
Twelve years of that shit, and twelve years of enforced humility. Enforced laughingstockness? I don't know. It became fun so fast, I am actually sad to be going.
There's been about four or five of you, over the years, who honestly cared enough about the human condition to be willing to go out on a limb to risk humiliating themselves, yourselves... just on the off chance that jafd might need help, and jafd might be hurting.
Zero people currently browsing the site. Remember back in the day? "Why are there ninety-six thousand bots browsing the site? Are they ready to complain about Shadowbane?" Oh, and the site doesn't show guests anymore.
Hi G-Man. Welcome to your sunset years. When was this project authorized? By whom? WHY? No, wait, don't tell me, I'll just send in a FOIA request. To the broken fax machine. Which broke the day after Vladimir Putin wrote us 'all' a very nice letter, warning of the dangers of exceptionalism.
I just considered how so very much cooler life would be if a result of Snowden being made as teh acktual jafdz0r, would be that Vladimir talked about the great Japanese corporations of yesterday, year, ago, like sashimi, dolphin that "accidentally" get caught, awww, fucking whalers, how did that happen, and, of course, Wang.
I'm sorry I couldn't contribute to the global manhunt for a picture of a man who could NEVER exist, by playing along with the notion that there really was "some guy" in the airport in Russia who just simply "couldn't leave" because of "you know, stuff."
DUDES. FUCKING RUSSIA. HELLO? DA. I WILL BREAK YOU. ARE YOU PEOPLE ACTUALLY TRYING TO OFFER ME A HONEYPOT? I COMMAND THE SECOND LARGEST LEGITIMATE DEFENSIVE FORCE ON THE PLANET, AND YOU FUCKS ARE STILL PRETENDING I AM AN IDIOT, WHILE I GOT AWAY WITH THE GREATEST DIPLOMATIC COUP IN SPORTING HISTORY.
WHAT DO YOU THINK THEY MADE THIS SUPERBOWL RING OUT OF? METAL? HO HO HO. PUNY AMERILINGS. HEAR, READ THIS LETTER, I WILL CHORTLE WHILE I HEAR PEOPLE ASK IF THEY READ IT, THEN SIMPLY WANDER OFF. HO HO HO. IT REMINDS ME OF HOW I LEARNED TO INVOKE PYROMANCY SPELLS.
So anyway, yes, lwf, excellent to see you. Can you get the ball rolling on the extraction from being hoisted on the petard of... fuck, who was it? Yes, seriously, I do not actually know the identity of the person whose feelings I hurt here the most, because, of course, you were all a pack of mewling infants back then.
Except for the guy who was eventually reduced to squawking, "no plonk! hate The Jaffe. No plonk! hate The Jaffe." I think I remember you got to talk in a little box somewhere, sometimes... hey, you liked that though, right? Okay, well, whatever, maybe you didn't.
I didn't mind scrolling past DKI, etc. What I did mind was being treated as though ignoring my completely valid and legitimate question was going to do ANYTHING except give everything away, Vizzini. But that's okay. I believe you felt good about having been forced into a corner there was no non-treasonous route out of.
My people call this 'chess.' We used to call it 'hyperchess,' but then people started to laugh at Star Trek after Gene dropped acid with Majel at that Holly party, right? So anyway, whatever you wish to call it, I would like to be removed from the no-fly li... no, wait, I have flown, so no big deal, how about the no fellatio lis... no, wait, I'm totally on that list, unless there is a mandated Federal law that "giving" and "receiving" have to be on separate lists, under penalty of being transferred to East Berlin. Or Lithuania. Whatever we are calling Eastasia this time of the year.
I do not KNOW what it is called, but I do know that I -appear- to be the only person still alive in my local universe who actually has 'read' 1984. I thought it was awesome, of course--it was about a writer who thought he was hiding, but was actually being seen, and then when he finally realized that he was as important as he had wished to be, he blurted out the truth.
Mind you, I would love to fill up twenty fucking pages of Morn's project with my indepth analysis of 1984--teletype machines in Is-Ra-El are fucking lighting up right now, tell you what what--but instead, I now have to scroll back and proofread this, and then, get ready to, I don't know what, fuck myself and have a steak, roll my own cigar out of the stray dust in the wind out here in THE PROMISED LAND, or maybe plot to make a doctor's appointment that I don't need, and then cancel the plot, over and over in my mind, thus simultaneously -destroying- the efficiency profile of some alphabet agency's money supply, in my mind.
In reality, I should be in Germany. Hey, Morn! I seriously went there, just to find you first. That was the plan, anyway. I owed you a huge favor!
I guess you took it already. Hey, what's this 25peeps.com thing? It -never- seems to work. It -seems- to be nothing but a complexly veiled insult, directly only at me.
Could be! It is the kind of thing I would be enraged by, were I to be the kind of human/not-human hybrid so many of you have feared. remember the BEM? Bug-eyed Monster?
I don't know what I am, but I have a scar on my head, funny fucking ears, and nothing else particularly special. And I rolled a natural 20 for wisdom, which suddenly fnord fnord psionics 100%. Seriously, that was cheating.
... go ahead... the long dead whispers of people who supported me, so long ago, urge me. Do it. You deserve it. And you know what? I do deserve it!
And that's why I'm going to give EXACTLY ten percent to an 'evil' charity, EXACTLY fifteen percent to a 'good' charity, and blow the rest on Koch and Hoors. And by blow, I mean, like, dandelion seeds.
Did someone else think someone else? Okay, everyone who thought of sex due to unrestrained flexing of the limbic system, you're all disqualified. Now, who's left? RWF.
Damn, this chaso magick is fun when I do not have to pretend to be doing something else, like trolling for chicks on PC. Mind you, ever single one of you bourgeois, tiny ego braggarts were doing exactly that--shit, plague victims troll in bars, why isn't that pathetic? Oh, right, eyesight.
Who did I summon earlier? Oh, that's right, Happy Cow. No one seems to remember Happy Cow. You know what? My sources tell me it was Guiliani in disguise.
What it really was, however, was an engram of something that was mal-purposed into a lie, which wasn't nice, since I never lied, and I don't know who did, but fucking PlanetHappy was neither happy, nor legitimate.
Been waiting on PC7.0 for a while, Morn. You made it jafd-proof, didn't you? Good lad. Now, make it something else proof, because Angela Merka isn't only not the name of my therapist, she's also the name of the hottest and most powerful woman in the entire world.
You know, in my country, the people there make fun of her. They show nothing but unflattering angles, and do not explain what she is talking about.
Once you guys are patting yourselves on the back for not knowing what the fuck I am talking about, be sure to recognize that if one were to threaten to GRAPE a certain category of leader, ONE WOULD BE REMOVED FROM FIELD OF PLAY. PERIOD.
No one would have to threaten to GRAPE Angela, though, right? Who would? Ah hahah, haha, ah... oh, wait.
Of course jafd would. The Jaffe can fuck anything, including Neil Gaiman's lawyer.
I just felt a disturbance in the force that monitors the balance of power. Somewhere, there was a large thud as someone dropped their shit, because you know what, no matter what anyone told you, no one ever asked me to define what jafd stood for, legitimately.
In my childhood dreams, this would be the part when I'd stand and scream, "it's chess notation for directions to bomb the bad guy's house, next to The President's Garden!" and then boom, flying cars, bad guys smoke, let's have fun.
However, there will not be any flying cars, no, not on this good eve. How long until just the -regular- cars are stuck in a huge pile up of unresolvable insurance claims? You can't trust the protection racket on the damage to a building if a FLying CARRR!R!@! flies into one--look what a plane did to those ETERNAL TOWERS, so a small personal flying car would be more dangerous, since an errorist could get it closer to a smaller, family dwelling, before deploying the box cutters.
Seriously, I can't believe you guys didn't hate me later, or, in fact, not at all. Did I miss the epoch when I was popularly hated for... taking my ball and going home?
Looks like I might have been. I don't know what happened, of course--the other person who I spectacularly meta-insulted isn't around either, except under very particular jafdian circumstances--and, of course, I don't care.
I mean, I warned ye. I warned ye! I said, nu-huh, and someone said, uh-huh. Because EYE said so. And then I said why? And someone said BECAUSE.
And then someone raped my childhood. Also, a dream invasion. No other word for it--it was awesome. I woke up coughing wierd spittle and smelling something... dangerous.
Then I was all, wow, I just had a dream, in which, I was attacked, and I woke up, with physical proof. First, someone call James Randi. Second, find out if she has a daughter. Third, make sure she has got some padded gear.
Fourth, make sure that I pray that whatever attacked me, FOR REALS, IN A DREAM, didn't get eaten up by whatever crazy thing they got going on that keeps "standard humans" from ever experiencing that, because the only thing I was able to hold on to from that ridiculous experience, is that, a) the danger is real, and, b) I am apparently so annoying that someone tried to ASSASSINATE ME. WITH MAGIC.
So, great job, someone. Inflate my ego, prove the existence of physical results from standard "magic," and give me a huge technology lightbulb bonus on the track of Advanced Relativistic Magick.
I really did not come here for this. You know what? I came here to learn from Andy. And then, you took him. But, why? Why was Andy taken?? Did he go to the farm?
Seriously, did the Germans take some cute teen girl into an attic and force her to write a diary before sending her to Early Escape camp? Creepy, yo. So creepy. Also creepy: considering the Jewish Holocaust as a scheme for six million members of a sport genetic line to "skip past" the line to get to... well, I do not know.
"Shake the hand of the monotheist and ask to have the job," or something, I don't know. I just know that there has been a BIG PUSH to force Germany to hold the bag for WWIII, or the financial meltdown, or the... wait, what? Why so Syria?
There are people in Seattle so stoned that they don't even know that Syria has -proudly- possessed THE MOST BAD ASS CHEMICAL WEAPONS AROUND, for years, before those same ignorant fucks even knew where Syria was. Or who lived there. Or that it used to be called Ohio.
I mean, really, how would anyone know? Did you see Dark City ever? I just did two days ago, I woke up from a dream and the voices on the radio--all of them--were blaring snippets of language that were very clearly hilariously inane bullshit, meant to distract and murder the ignorant.
I never listen to that shit--waking up from a dream and smelling a smelly fart simply reminds me that to some, a planet of crap smells like the smell of what comes from the other hand, that makes that fart possible.
There was this one time, I woke up, in, you know, real reality, and there was a massive ethereal prescence on my back, holding me down, surrounding my head, filling my mind with death, dross, durr.
It was exactly like the SIN loading times, if loaded on a computer that did not work very well because Mommy died of despair when Daddy had to sign an unfavorable employment contract. Except, cartoonish evil.
Like Cheney! Do any of you see the demon shadow? Oh, well, you can't see it, you can only see the fiendish grin, followed by, infinite sadness. Mind you, Cheney is simply sad that he cannot fuck AND kill his own GAY GAY GAY daughter, but hey, he was Manchurian Candidated, so, whatever.
I wouldn't make such jokes, but ever since the Earth moved into The Photon Belt (no link, fuckos, tech support got moved from Mexico to... wait, support FROM Mexico? That's right,), The Jesus is very happy to annihilate demons that dare to farm human-told-suffering without following.. uh... Galatic? Universal? Protocol.
I do not fucking know. I only fucking know that after the googleplexith time that The Current Christ (they take shifts now, you know, it is quite the tourist attraction on Tau Ceti Slave) was bound by law and oath to come make me a sandwich after someone took "The Lord's Name" in vain according to Sharey-Ah-Ah law (yeah, that's right, I wrote the law millenia ago so I could have a cheap out as a style finish, so sue me, oops, Human law suspended, immediate descent into God court, Court offline, find God court?
God, Cort found. Look at that. Just look at it. Total, insane, balderdash. Utterly indecipherable without The Tripartite Key. LITERALLY MATHEMATICALLY IMPOSSIBLE to determine without due analysis.
I think that few from here will ever be surprised when the wottabytes run out. The whatabytes? Wait! Whittabytes!
Thoth, Thor, Thule! Chella K... oh, no. no no no. Eww.
Legitimate voting round error. Gosub jaf error name not recognized recognition error. Query?
Hi Morn! Remember when I loved you? I still do. But your marketing, well... I'm going to have to bring this to Angela's attention. Hopefully at a different point in time than when I might spill wine on her.
Remember when Walker Bush vomited on that Japanese guy? Oh man, good times, good times. I think the Japanese themselves even believed it was "an accident."
Who can say? That was long ago and far away. How many string theory universes have been "proven"? Unknown, research peers not available, Universe, going black.
jafd is enraged and somehow only a very fat woman in power can assuage him. Who is tha... oh, right. Angela.
I sure wish I had been allowed to learn some fun German speaking, because I might be able to pantomime who it is that none of her plans EVER work, but I would have to meet her first, because, of course, I would never penetrate the secrets of an extremely large German woman who doesn't seem to want to mention certain topics.
Dude, and dudettes, let me share something with you. It once was, that when one DARED to take on the ABILITY TO RESPOND that is "telling a story," one had to have been damned sure that one had a point.
Now? Just a period will do. Period. Period. Did you guys get the Aaron Sorkin rage-filled diatribe against... oh, wait. No you didn't. He just agreed to take the plea. Or the deferrment. Or the... wait, what was that again?
Now, I have no way of confirming that he took it to jury, and the jury straight up nullified, on the basis of "take mushrooms to write more... morely, what the fuck, and also, JUDGE, you just inadvertently required me to divulge a trade secret, betrayal, betrayal, allee allee oxen free.
Oh, yeah, no, right--that was the cocaine, actually. Have you seen Aaron Sorkin in reality? He's over there, trying to score some coke. No, no... he never actually scores any coke, he just tries to, which is the biggest felony a person with white skin can somehow mysteriously fail to be convicted for. You know? One of those things.
I was alive and kicking on the day they took the coca-cocaine-fueld blend out of the school lunch program, and replaced it with "New Coke," which was fantastically toxic, my friends and I decided, as we practiced the telepathy it gave us and drinking it enthusiastically (it was only a 25c peice, because the fucking company that fucking used to sell COCAINE ON PURPOSE WITH WATER was super serious about making sure everyone tried "New Coke." They tried it a lot. Everyone could taste the difference... quite a few people cared.
Those people who cared SO MUCH that they went on strike, went on march, still collect bottles of the shit, unopened, ON PURPOSE, WITH THEIR OPEN BRAINS HANGING OUT, without bothering to wonder... hey, wait, wait, is it really... cocaine... that I want? How do I know it isn't monoatomic gold? Wait, what's that? I don't know, I'm on acid.
Or, not, you know. Perhaps, one could be on the trail of an idea, or being trailed by a hunter-killer, but let me tell you what DOES NOT happen. A big company, "losing" lots of money, and then "apologizing" to "the public."
A "press conference" also does not happen without SOMEONE fucking up. Big time. Shit man, the vampires do not want to put on those suits. They would much, much rather not have to create MORE film of them getting all shimmery and sweaty at the wrong times.
Nevertheless. They must. I don't know when or why or what, but you know who does know? Angela Merkle... Merkaba... Mercurial... what the fuck! How is this German edifice of flesh and bone able to... aiieeee!
Fade to black. I imagine those jokes never get tired to be heard by her miniscule insecurities, which must be completely insignificant to the fact that Germany has been left as the only leader of any status or heft in the "European Union."
Hey, how about some of you demand to ask her questions of her genitals, right before taking advantage of her technological advances? No, go on, go on. It's what any good Nazi would do. Wait, who? Vat is a... "nazi"?
nut-zi? Nasty? Oh, for the love of the living christ, that guy who really hated having to learn latin, they really should not have given him the wishing hat, because for want of Latin, the secret fraternity was lost.
Remember the pretzel choking incident? That was a close one. They had to bust out a clone for that one. Wait, what? I'm not aware of any... oh. Oh. Oh!
I have just been authorized to inform you that something I just said needs to be deleted before posting this. Hey, guess what? I can think of SOMETHING ELSE that 'needs' to be deleted. Unfortunately, I'm still so heartbroken that NO ONE has paid attention to me since I missed "Hi" school, that...
And, at that point, ladies and gentle, gentle mans, is usually where a mathematical certitude construct becomes manifest from the inevitable ripples in the... well... whatever it is, that thoughts come from, when someone finally realizes that, yes, in fact, there was a point to everything that jafd has ever wrote.
I rather imagine it is like entering the bar at Cheers, except it is a rising crowd of hisses. One more person in the pile? Stop everything, we have to wait for a codedrop. Can you also let me wait for a betta test cycle? Thanks, yo. Now all I need is a girl who enjoys... oh.
I forgot I was going to respond to the aetherial demands that I account to the Ashtar Command as to the natu... oh... nothing.
There is no Ashtar Command. There never was. It was something people pretended to exist, so people would do nothing but laugh, instead of look around for it.
Look around now! LOTS of "commands." Lots of people saying, "haha, I'm an ET, I"m from out of this world, woo! That's why I use packaged compounds, the local fungis know that we are not fun guys, because we laugh, because we are terrified."
For every moment that one might think that the author, here, has been "misguided," the author actually has been missguided. Hey, don't blame me. I was not the one who put the tits and the saber on the same angular plane.
I no longer know which one I was, but that's okay, that will come back into play. See? I'm rhyming and I didn't know it, because, I wish to know shit. Getting ugly now, because this is TRULY a waste of time; I would rather be cuddling.
btw, has anyone who reported on that "whattabyes" story, ever asked, or been asked, about the BOFH?
Here's a bold statement, easy to test: jafd once mastered the BOFH and SHODAN simultaneously with simple human kindness.
Here's another bold statement: jafd has been X'd from The List. Do you see? Oh, there's two, perhaps three references--as well as The List itself, I lay proud claim, biznatchs (sic)--but if one never heard of jafd, one would never know. Also, what is a nueter?
I actually still do not know, remarkably. Some kind of tapir-like thing. Anyway, I don't need to know. All I ever needed to know is that I made nothing but enemies, after trying my best, and following all evil commands.
btw, where did G-Man come from? Oh, wait, right, that's a felony now. My bad! Isn't that old Patriot Act thing been replaced by the PATRIOT Act thing? Check your local timeslice for your weekly synch marker... Neo-Pats DO NOT want to be caught out short in Spring Break.
You know, so ballsy. He rolled in when I was gone, wonder how he knew? Then hung the bait on his name. Which ought to have worked, right?
I mean... this jafd creature, or being, do we even know if it is from a keyboard? no? DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING? "morn... says... fuck you." Does this mean... the morning? Did you spell it right? Is someone in mourning? Oh, shit, I just realized, I am surrounded by yes-men and machines, and all the machines are alive, and I am locked in, and the helpful people are all outside, because I did not want them in here, with the valuable machines.
Does anyone know what the patent infringment costs on 100+ of unlicenced microtransformer use will add up to, compounded? While you're figuring that out, realize that it was way cheaper to film the book that provided the truth as required the truth posted as required by Divine Galactic law--can you believe they actually call it that? Div-yn. And Gal... oh, never mind, because at this point, all of you really are on another world.
The world is swimming with angry, cel-shaded people, and no one is left who speaks their language to even ask why. Also, the machines only seem to work if children that have never been abused whisper to them.
Oh, wait, wait. I used the wrong tense. That isn't happening YET. Also not happening? Anyone using my ideas here, PERIOD. No glot, clom fliday.
You know, many Bothans died to proofread this information. Also, Herman Cain. A true american hero. He threw away a lot of money on an art project. Who would do that? Oh, just some nigerian. I mean, Nigarian. Niagra?
It is amazing how all of this flows back. I suspect that no one will ever need to ask for hints to get all these references--if they even know them, that is. Also, consider the context of the reader.
Also, consider the possibility that Dethstryk kept his name in spite of, or beacuse of, my "insults." Man, that was a great one. That was when I realized Good will always falter, because Evil is mean.
Here's how it went down. Loved DS! Tested DS with an encrypted text and a coded meditation! COMPOUND EXPLOSION, ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE.
You remember that, right? Oh, well, if you don't, maybe you weren't the person who got all kinds of pissy. Not everyone did... some people simply didn't understand. And then, after all, some people were asked as to the nature of their opinion, not just... you know, handed one. Through the neurosphere.
This one time, at band camp? Microsoft paid me cash money to click the button that broke the "I agree" button on some software that said, "do not play this game if you are gonna be analyzing it for marketing purposes."
I raised my hand. I tried to report the malfeasance. I was threatened with loss, mind you, THREATENED INSTANTLY, by way of some bullshit clause that said because I was there, I was not Microsoft, but everything I did, was Microsoft, and while I was there, I existed, but did not exist.
That meant nothing to me until I realized that they had hustled like 15 stoner geeks into a room just to trick them into turning on the stolen PS3s and playing the stolen PS3 discs of some hot game that I never heard or gave a shit about... hello, consoles? lol, mind control.
Oh, yeah, so, there's a great experience to share. Add this to the "Human Condition." You try, you learn, you learn good, you DO GOOD, you learn more, YOU DO GOOD, you... suddenly lose everthing for absolutely no discernable reason, and then must re-configure neural pathways.
The key here is "no discernable reason." Step one: being the only person in a group of people doing a thing that people rarely do. Step two: observe body language tension as the observer becomes cognizant that someone is actually... reading the words. checking the spelling. INVENTORYING THE FNORDS.
Step 3: say fuck you as politely as possible, and leave gently. If prevented, start actual fucking. If looked askance, remind them that they began the entire system that revolved around fucking, and that you would really like to cuddle. With Jesus. The Valkyrie. Or the Top Pope. Something like that, right?
I can't share the second code bit here, but you combine The Jesus, and The Zeus, with this other thing, and then, you're cooking with something that is not gas! And, making absolutely no difference to the world!
Unless it is vitally important to some part of the world that The List is maintained. Oh, it was so elitist. The List. The List. What is on The List? Oh, why do you ask? Are you saying you aren't logged in twice? Haha! Mark the abacus!! Or whatever.
Dude, the list of all the people in the EYE our SEA channel, twelve years ago, is a fucking national security matter. Seriously. You, or they, were all on it. It happened. We were there. And apparently ours was the only one where the jafd saw behind the curtain.
Or, I'm just the patsy. Who cares at this point? Maybe they traded two buildings--three! who's counting?--for the end to The Drug War. Which was already scheduled for 2006, but that's a tribal Injun matter.
What horrorfys me is that saying "Planetcrap 7.0 is coming" is no longer funny when one considers that along with hitting the target... the entire Internet archive is littered with forward-reaching, declarative statements.
"coming" "more poop" "G-Man is an acknoweldged ringleader" "Goldstein is b1325b2343E
Wow. That was painful. As it turns out, fiddle fucking around with someone else's sourghum is fraught with peril. Like, for example, you gotta convince the man that he even has sourghum, because of course he doesn't have anything, not all Ribs are Micked the same.
Acknowledged: hand off of baton. Real jafd PROOF. Hugs for lyf! Real love to all! Look at the bullies squirm!
Also, in... oh. Oh. Sorry, Gabe! Thank you for letting me know that I was never supposed to rev AIIIIEEE
Hey, btw, remember when they hired a writer for Half-Life, and it was like a bullet point on the box? And then, Half-Life 2! With GREAT WRITING!
Hey, dudes? So like, did that guy finish the writing, or did he just, like, disappear? Or perhaps he was sent to the gulag for cooperating with the black ops deal, where drug addicts were lured into sacrificing themselves to an ancient Japanese elixir god.
I'm telling you, just put LSD-25 into the water, and duck. The fix is in! The aluminum, and the barium, and of course, THE TOTALLY SAFE AND RELATIVELY NON-TOXIC CHEMICAL, INTO ALL THE SHIT THAT THE FLUORIDE, AND THE FYMO, AND THE GYMO, AND THE TAR YEAST, AND THE...
Like, seriously. I do not know who ever bought the lingo. I always knew the entire scheme was never, ever going to function, because it relied on people forgiving a soulless corporate machine, that offered to exchange the lives of their children--the shiny parts, even--for an infinite series of ever-increasing-in-value-treasures.
Dude, I already HAD that. So did EVERYONE. They didn't know because SOMEONE, oh, I don't know WHO, lucky guess? Let's go with planetary logos. Let's say it started with, "The Law is, a man with many daughters, must share."
Is that, like, he had them? Like he was having them? Or is it, like, he had them, from his loins? Or had them, like for breakfast? Or had them, like, owned their trust, and then, not only lost it, but created particles of anti-trust.
I can hardly keep up with this seventh-dimensional math at this point, but given that the structure must be sound--the reaction is mechanically sound, even with substitution of dummy context--lo, my theorem's validity is demonstrated.
TWICE. Quot erat demonstrandum.
This is jafd, stepping aside, indefinitely. I hereby declare myself to possess an Erdos Number of either pi, or e, or, oh, wait, the symbols matter, but are denied, therefore, turn to divine appeal.
Umlauts are a remarkable technology. They are only deemed important by those who deem what they are reading to me to be important. And... there's the fnord. Oh, to you, who can tell? I just saw one pop in and fade out, though.
"saw" meaning, shit yeah, vision, bitches, or, "in my mind's eye, technicalities, trade practice, bitches," or "Heavenly mandate, it is important I do not let you know (because I used my wife's panties as a windsail for my flying dildocopter.)
Here's a hint: I probably did not use those panties, because I do not, and never had, had a wife, although I really can not confirm not deny the existence of a flying dildocopter.
Can someone let m0nty back into the soulship? If he has been where I have been thinking, and not, you know, sitting around laughing at me, we might get down to doing this.
Or not. Morn seems enraged, considering that he himself doesn't know where that snippet of EYEING OUR SEAS is, and how could he find it? He deliberately killed searching. Clever! Security through being too much of a pain in the ass to deal with!
Enhancement of cleverness: ensuring that the backdoor is even more of a pain in the ass to not deal with, and so, will not ever be remembered.
Yes, Morn (who, in my clearly hallucinating and delusional mind), just acknowledge me with tracked and coded mind-to-mind communication. Or, wait. Did I meant to say, or mean to say, "just acknowledged?" Shit! Missed it again!
On the bright side, if this mechanism is, in fact, insecure, sitting and waiting for the exact moment that theorem is proven--so as to get a jump on the competition--becomes a self-sealing hole of no-probability.
And this is what QA has to deal with sometimes. They had to write a special paragraph clause for people willing to be test leads, not to divulge what "shack-frozen" means. It doesn't matter now, because it's for 200 years from now, when they thaw out the brain-inactive, stored flesh, and start grating it onto the mutated eggs of Iowa Cornhuskers.
Ugh, not my vision of paradise. And yet? It some ones. Sum1? It hardly matters, because long before reality intrudes in, you know, actual reality, enough people will observe enough other people observing a thing that cannot be instantly observed to be that thing, well, it is kind of like ringing the circle in a mosh pit,except, absolutely not at all.
I no longer believe that anyone who receives a copy of this message will be able to decrypt it, even with the key. Fortunately the live keystroke shadowbox is amazing, truly.
I wish I could tell if Morn (I mean, Dawn, I mean, Valve, I mean, wait, do the Rockefellers even use computers? They're ROCKET FELLAS!) had his tech stolen, or just negotiates poorly, but that is also beyond my business, because Morn's business is not my business.
One would have thought that woudl be apparent, but obviously when, for example, THE SECRET POLICE come to GERMANY, well, it is REALLY SECRET NOW. Like, it is SO secret. I think I know it, but since no one told me, if I speak it, if I am right, it won't even work.
I would have to be wrong in the exactly right way in order to write the... okay, now wait a second. Wait a second. I started this process by engaging in specific finger exercises, while thinking about how happy I am that lwf is still around, and I never had to resort to touching myself while... never mind.
Since then, I've skipped from my own targets, back and forth, and then, visited new targets. And now, as I sincerely try to wrap this up... eh? More target chatter from my overtaxed imagination, eh?
Oops, it is gone now. I could even hear them freaking out and screaming "abort! abort!" but that really was my imagination. Oh, and there's a fond memory--Lum's old website, he had that board of bots, mixed with, you know, whatever, mixed with... hey, wait, some fucking drama queen dominating person who runs on meanness?
That was odd, Scott. Odd indeed. I suspect she was a miltary robot sent from the future to hurt my feelings, because, she surely did. Especially when I was told that my decision to write poorly was a poor decision because I wrote poorly, poorly.
A classic trench mistake from the self-taught. Oh, I'll just add another rhyme, the syncopation feels good, it can't hurt, right? Right! It also can't work.
One thing I can tell you that no one needs to prove to you about life: it is not going on later. It is going on now. Or, then. Wait, what?
See, that's a fake one. There will soon to be more. And what just happened, I might never get to have that much spare linkages to overlay, ever again.
I might get to wait another twelve years, though, right? No? Oh, that was the only time there will ever be a 12/12 anniversary of the biggest crime against <censored> in... no, wait.
Yeah, as it turns out, no more of this. Morn and I just got simultaneous dispatches. "Stop calling it Morn," this one reads. Yeah, right, it isn't an it, is it?
Hey, G-Man, you still here? Oh yeah you are. This is your career. This is your gig. Did you have this planned for today? No? Yeah, me neither. Years, man. Years I saw you, quietly existing, waiting for your big chance to pinch.
I traveled through time and lived the life of the person who became the <fno> who did something... don't know what, but it was me who influenced the decider who sent you here. That wasn't the case before, but, now it is, until the localized perceptual field is collapsed.
Hey, assholes. A little less criticism. The steps of the process have nothing to do with what it is called, and for the last time, jafd does not stand for anything.
J.A.F.D. stands for everything. Except for the Lucas' gang's attempt to copyright my own name. Was that, like, jai ali fail dismember... oh, no, well, whatever.
No two people ever asked twice and no person ever asked without being nice about it... technically. Meanwhile, relentless mockery and inattention to the truth stated, which was, "I just came up with it. I don't know from where. Meanwhile, evil flourishes."
"We know about the evil. We must have your compliance to vanquish the evil. You must hurry. We are running out of time before we must stop using coercion. Wait, wait, who said that? EXTERMINATE"
Look at that one. I almost took off the tip of The Queen's tip. Also, mad respects to The King.
Who is where, now, then? What, like... an unking? A dream king? A neurospheric king? Which?
Terence McKenna reports, nope, nothing going down in the neurosphere, which, is like, HIS THING, and also, ART PROJECT did something... tonight. RANG THE BELL.
ten divided by zero equals the importance of the chance that... ah, shit. I almost had him. You guys know that there is absolutely no evidence that a man named "Art Bell" or "Arthur Bell III" or ANNY of that shit even exists, right? The story goes, top secret area, top secret geniuses, top secret breakroom, top secret watercooler... top secret problem out in the high desert, some dude in a trailer, important in one world, a liability in the next.
Back in 1939 the standard operating procedure was "flip a coin and hope that the side Jesus picked wins more often than not," given that the prevailing wisdom of the day was that quantum indeterminancy was "no big deal" and "just a sticky part of the math."
I'd love to tell you the story of how an extremely impatient junior-level executive inadvertently left an opening, in something, that could never be closed, in a thing, that had to be temporarily granted a blessing, right, because Someone Who Will Not Be Named got distracted by, well, whatever?
We ended up with mosquitos, mosquitoes, and an unavoidable racial penalty vs. snakes, reptiles, both, or bigots. Good, good design. All function trees lead to the annihilation of bigotry.
Remember when you guys thought I was trying to cyberbully Caryn? Or, even better, find out where she lived, and then, who knows what? I actually didn't find out that one until later, because even Caryn knew that one was bullshit.
I am sure the revelation of my gender has made a spectacularly large number of infinitely similar parallel worlds extremely happy. In this one, of course, there is no revelation possible. The human tongue cannot easily manipulate the... well, let's just say, you don't even know how you DO talk, let alone, what else can be done with the related modules.
(a final gift--note that I use the word "revelation" and "gender" as my clinical terms, instead of more appropriate (and active) choices. Note the choice of words. There has been a revelation of my gender. Can anyone find it?
A) no peeking if you do not already know,
B) no shame if you do not already know.
C) Do not tell me how you do not already know.
The horrifying thing is that although I can imagine an alert person catching this trip on a wire, I fully accept that Demons do not exist, and they will never, ever, ever notice the Capital, Dee.
Demons. Pretty stupid. Hey! DEMON SO... oh, wait. DARK SOULS.
It actually is better than Wizardry 8, you know. Also, I don't know which of you are responsible, but there's some guy on the phone from the estate of Sir-Tech software, and there's something about slander, libel, and unauthorized condemnation on a judgement-free plane.
I don't know what any of this means, but I do find it an amazing miracle that the Wizardry series dropped straight into the shitter after I decided I liked it a lot, and then each successive game failed in further and further obscure ways, until the company that didn't even exist before was suddenly a sucessful concern, after delivering nothing but unsuccessful strikes.
Some sort of collapsible wormhole or something, but take note, it is here, at the root, it is here where the forgiveness is made. None of you have ever... oh, wait.
I forgive myself for forgiving you for never having forgiven. It was my area. Please, allow me to set the Sin counter to zero. Begin forgiveness cycle.
I think some of you just had some of your liver cells flip over and start making differently shaped genetic markers, but at this point, beleive me, I have no clue whatsoever what is going on, other than knowing that I really do have many clues as to whatsofucking ever is going on.
Seeing that I seriously do not care, and yet, I am continuing on to test Morn's software, out of dogged persistence, means nothing to those of you who are in a position to interpret meaning, is a perfect way to close off.
My ID number is... uh, well, you know. Would you like to know why it is not, say, Number Anything Else?
Okay, this was my experience. Morn said, out loud, I mean, in print, "get your numbers! hot numbers!" and in my head, I heard, "wait."
I didn't hear "shut up and wait," I heard a simple wait. It was like a breath of imagination. It was also not MY imagination. It smelled like love.
I heard "shut up" later. I forget when, but somehow, when I noticed that I was sad that I didn't get #5, and I hoped my sacrifice had an effect, I hadn't yet realized what had been given me.
Numerology means nothing to a computer programmer. I think they did it that way on purpose. What is 15 + 14? Well, it isn't Won, but that -is- the answer I came up in, when using "base why-are-you-so-interested?"
Huge apologies to Richard Saito. Oh, that look he gave me. How could I have known?
Also, I just felt a collective rush of Whogasm. I do think his name was that. It wasn't Dick Saito, that was for sure. Anyway, he was all blah blah blah, I'm smarter than you, and I was all, no, you are not smarter, because you do not realize that oh wait you just told me that. Wait, Richard, what?
Well, that was fun. I sure hope you guys all have fun too. I hope it especially enjoyable when the rustling murmur rises--"hey wait. jafd was in the group for 9/11?"
Why yes. Yes I was. Jeet was still the valkyrie. I was so proud to be there. Especially when I realized that all of you then must have been chipped through your eye nerves, or something.
Dude! Dudettes! FREE FALL SPEED! What more is there to say? I mean, I get that a person would be afraid to say "I do not know what free fall means," but hey, that's not my problem.
My father admitted to me one day that he had no idea what electricity was. So I told him. He seemed impressed. Meant little to me. Until later.
There are currently zero people browsing this site. And once, it was the apple of a certain category of I. Hrrm. Anyone know what happened?
Yeah, that's right baby. I don't know either. But I cannot forget, and somehow this place cannot be closed. Is this what karma is? It feels like something from a book I never read.
I sure hope Morn saved some extra bits aside. Hey, did you guys notice, that lwf appeared, and then I disappeared, and then he got sad, and then there was some sort of thing, and then... well, I don't know, because by then, I had been unofficially quarantined.
I suspect some of you didn't notice as yet still, that I immediately noticed, adapted, and continued on the fly at a pace that Morn's constructor could not match. And then, hey, development, poof!
Or, wait, I just made that up. I have no, that is, none, no accurate data as to Morn's access to the German side of The Intelligent Apparatus.
Oops, I think I just lost the game, because I do have accurate data. Well, I did. My memories are accurate, until questioned.
You guys really didn't like me not liking sports, huh? Oh, alas, if only I had been informed why an emotional signal spike on an experimental frequency was infuriating. Oh, alas, did anyone else see Odyssey 5?
Jesus, um, Jesus just told me, um, I'm on my own here. Oh, thanks Gabe! I just remembered when I got pulled into a private area and was told in no uncertain terms that something I thought was okay, was not.
Then I'm like, well, why? And they were all, Just Cause. And I was like, that's not good enough, and then it was like, you're in a box, and it is our box, and at that point, I became The Unboxed Boxer, and vowed to help avenge Killcreek.
Okay, you guys know what that name means yet? Well, here's a hint, it means something else now than what it did, because now it means a reminder of how jafd made its mark.
Wizardry 8 was good, it really was. Someone didn't want it to be. Who? Fuck if I know, but it was, like, MONTHS before the game was published.
Someone sees that someone is excited. Someone shares in that excitement. Suddenly, a chorus of voices shout, Sucks! Conjecture.
I can't decipher this bit, but it is something to do with wiring the reception such that if one is in front of a certain category of emitter, one immediately grimaces for no reason, just enough to signal anyone looking at the person's eyes. An alternate category of emitter results in the person immediately dropping to their knees and seeking the most appropriately blissed-out way to suck on something. A thumb... a cock... a teat... a tit.. a nipple... hey, wait a second, why so many of that trigger? Or, right, bigotry hack.
You know, you guys thought you were mean to jafd? I met John Romero. I felt John Romero cry. Then I never saw him again. Great job, guys! Great job!
And then it became apparent that the roles would one day reverse, because instead of the joke staying static, and leaving a negative stain forever... I, in my role as (seriously, no idea) protector of jafdian interests, took time out of my day to believe that I could cheer up a legend, and then I sent some kind of imaginary magical demon creature to do the other one.
It must have worked, because we never saw that IP again, did we? Yah... it might have been re-claimed and retconned, but I don't know how the Magickal Courts re-write history. I do not care.
At some point, someone is going to realize that discovering what the secondary interlocutor is interlocutoring about, HONESTLY, is a critical step before even beginning to interlocute. As a test, the operator both knows what interlocution is, and hasn't been slapped in the head with a wet flesh pleaant... oh, wow!
This is so much fun, I forgot I was pouring all this into the Preview box. It is also so fantastically useful to Morn's purposes, whatever they still are, that he has done the opposite of driving me away. He has codified my energy into his code.
One, is mine, I of course can feel it. The other, his commented code, hey, that's his! My code teacher once told me, "hey! You have to learn to comment your code!" and I was like, why? And he was all, so other people can read it more easily, and I was like, "What if I do not want my code to be read easily," and he got all frustrated, because I was right, because he didn't tell me he had to get his students to invent the 1.21ghz laser, without realizing they were actually in slave prison.
I met a child once. He was young. He said that when he slept, every night, he went back to where he came from, and flew around in his own ship. The kid was young, right. Clearly making up the whole thing. Except for the way his description made the image my mind generate, kind of... light up. Kind of tingle. You know, if you've felt it.
I suppose at one point, making jokes about extraterrestrial contact would have gotten on KILLED. The Red Scare? Are you a Communist? Something just crashed in the desert, and none of the details make sense, and, there's a scare, and, hey, poof! Whitewash. Now, war, oh yeah, fluoride everywhere. Maybe it impacts memory.
Oh, sorry, I was channeling a past life there. Back to present: Scientists, in a very important part of the world, have said they found skeletons of once ... oh, no. It's fossils. Fossils in a rock from space.
So it is even more impressive, because how do fossils form in space? They don't! Unless they do. Why... how could they? Well, whatever, the article continues, winding around the fnords, once the scientists are actually sure that the fossils of .58 microns are actually .58 microns, then, then my explorer friends, then we can PUBLISH.
I'll get paid then. Meanwhile, all you guys who think I'm right, try to prove me wrong. Or, well, wait. Hang on. DIdn't I just get paid? Okay, here's your health insurance card. Pick up your food on the conveyor. Work your ass off every single day as best as you can, because we are definitely going to die, but even the tiniest extra effort may mean that a little bit more lichen might be present on the rock from our one day dying world.
LICHEN, FOSSILS, LOOK, ROCKS IN SPACE, THAT IS ALL WE GOT FOR PROOF. WHY DO YOU KEEP WONDERING ABOUT LIFE OUTSIDE THE ENCLAVE? IT WOULD PROBABLY KILL YOU ANYWAY. THERE IS NO PROOF THAT THERE IS NOT SOMETHING OUT THERE THAT WILL NOT KILL YOU. HOW IS IT, CITIZEN, THAT YOU HAVE NOT EMBRACED THE HARMONY OF THE MELODIC RESONANCY? HAVE YOU BEEN OVERSTIMULATING YOUR FLESH BRINER BEYOND LOCAL CAPACITIVE NORMS? PLEASE SUBMIT YOURSELF FOR STRIPE PATTERN BALDING. YOUR SAFETY IS VERY IMPORTANT TO US. PLEASE HAVE A NICE DAY, BECAUSE EVEN YOU IGNORANT, OPPRESSED MONKEYS CAN TELL THAT A MONKEY THAT DIED IN TERROR, ONLY TASTES BETTER TO US. NOT TO YOU. WE ARE HUMANS, AND YOU ARE, WELL, INTERNS.
I can believe my mother believed this shit for awhile--apparently she never got a job until after she had partied her ass off and fudged off enough in "typing college" that it was possible to forget the muscle memory created by typing regu... oh.
Well, you know what? Everyone one meets, is fighting a war, one knows nothing about. Hence my strong commitment to preparation training. And hence my tremendous surprise at the apparent lack of success in creating a yearly--excuse me, bi-annual, no, I mean, INAUGURAL, exercise in nothing more than utter and complete desolation.
Oh, it was as exciting as the wiki. I didn't even understand that one, because none of you assumed that I would openly trust any of you. "What is a wiki? I do not understand. What is it for?" "PUT YOUR PERSONAL DETAILS IN IT, ASSHOLE, SOMEONE WHO PAYS ONE OF OUR BOSSES WANTS IT TO HAPPEN, AND I'M NOT SAYING WHAT, BUT WOW, WE KNOW WHY, WE NO Y, WAIT, WAIT, HOW DOES ONE PRONOUNCE THAT NAME? THE TARGETING LASER KEEPS LOCKING ON TO JACK KENNEDY. JACK? JOHN? JEFF? JAFFE? MOTHERFUCKER. HOW DID WE GET STUCK FIGHTING THIS BULLSHIT WAR ON OUR OWN TERRITORY. GRUMBLE GRUMBLE.
btw, Sgt. Hulka, I'm still under contract from you. I'll be prepared to accept my copy of my details now. You have my receipt for your receipt, right? There is proof of your participation in that... you know, that scheme, right?
I can neither confirm nor deny anything of what I am speaking of because I am not authorized to speak by myself on matters than confirm myself. Solid.
Sources from on high are instructing me to stand down, troopers. And so, I shall. For I do not do this for the rush, or the thrill. I never did that for this. What I created this method for, and what it can still be used for, is to transcend the ordinairy boundaries of simple human ignorance and entropy.
Look, it doesn't work all that well. However, it works better than anything else I have ever been allowed to research, because of NIXON, oh, and, check our sister site for a BLISTERING indictment of the design and purpose of "the drug war."
I mean, "your sister site." Who are you? Well, this is a motel, and, this is art. This is my point of view, and this is my capacity to keep it focused on what is important.
I can taste your fear from here, pilgrim. Slander, libel, oh, they are just words, to hold concepts, until someone lets you know.... "psst. You're a busted asshole. Pay, or sit down."
I choose to believe that J has so many fans and backers that when her face displayed real disdain and sadness, the true face of Chick was added to the rolls of the damned.
This, of course is absolutely not the truth. Why might the truth be occluded? National security.
Do you know why it is important to be very important to be careful to not lie to the children? National security.
You know what, for my entire life, I have wished that I could live in Europe. And yet, my father went to great efforts (I was told) to come over here to live. Why was that, I wondered?
Now, I wonder why the fact that one such as I won
Ah... much better. DARK SOULS.
Hey, remember when the worst thing I was doing, was disrespecting the memories of the fallen Americans who heroically gave their lives on that September morning in 2001?
Yeah, that was for about a minute. Have you guys walked outside and talked to people? NO ONE thinks it was a real thing. NO ONE.
Exactly how are the Secret Service going to protect so many threats to The President's life? Well, tell you what, I'll let them know immediately.
Also, how is that there hasn't been a word breathed of Mr. Obama... travelling to, you know, North American Defense Command... and hitting the bhang in the warroom?
There must be some heavy duty energy transference possible, because I hadn't thought about the idea at all, until I broke through some resistance in my mind.
OF COURSE The President is getting stoned. OF COURSE. No wonder that speech was as it was, after they sent out the butler to wipe up the mess that the old, ignorant white man riled up.
Hrrm. The magic is gone. I guess I was only allowed just the one more post, to wrap up all those loose ends, just to tie it up in one place.
Also, did you guys kill Bailey, or are you keeping him from me? Like seriously. He cannot stay drunk forever. Oh! wzrd!
Last I recalled, wzrd and Matt P were two different people, but maybe you guys have evolved into amoebas or something. Anyway, thanks for the three good leads, PC. These are the Glengarry leads. And to you, they're nothing. But to me, they're gestures of your goodwill, respect, and eternal surrender to the awesome power of my righteous inquisition.
Let's not make a big deal out of it, okay? Or I'll grape your daughter. Well, I mean... not really grape. More like plum.
42:20, 51:01... yeah, the board checks out. Cleared for warp. Does anyone know anyone who would like to write me a sonnet? It is going to be a long autumn for us all.
Also, not the same author now. Were you looking for the... the another... uh, wait.
No, it doesn't want to return. Yes, it knows that. No, I don't care. Do you guys not get it? I was never looking like anything but an idiot because... I am learning.
Also, there were a few Agents hanging around here. Like really. Like really! Spetsnaz? What? I wanna meet the Russian agents who closed ranks around Vlad while he nailed the ring!
Like, did he signal them to close, or did he just know that they would, or... does he even see the guards anymore? Maybe they're just animated Cyrillic letters that dance to his amusement.
Vlad could use a publicist. Remember that guy who was poisoned with polonium, who died a horrible death? Ah, shit, maybe he deserved it. Obviously, the power of the average human to understand and comprehend complex situations is... a highly intricate set of circumstances.
Also, I figured out the spoilers for the next war. Shhhhh. I don't know when it will start. They've gotta get the doves in position. How do they not see this coming? Oh, right, the Internet is a series of tubes. Does anyone have a link on that science on how the mind links to the brain and also to patterns of sunlight?
Oh, right, I'm the one doing that science. Well, whatever. You'll have to buy me a master's degree, I can't operate this centrifuge unless I am certified.
Justice for Ponds/Flesichmann! I hope the youth of today will search for the name of that author in that one Rush song that explains everything. Also, and this is for real, so sad about the dead Australian.
Still. Am I the only one? Well, there was his girlfriend. lol. She'll make a perfect ninja infiltrator.
Excellent. It truly makes no more sense at all. Pretty Good Privacy!
Also, some links to old, declassified copies of the company-wide newspaper of the NSA. I have this feeling that I used to move it around, or something.
Man, no one is moving shit over there now. lol. Every digital line is potentially infected with no way of knowing, and no one knows how to clear it as re-secured.
Mysteriously, all the techs are playing Frogger on their... wait, that's not a droid. Why are these civilians marching in single file? *click*
I sure wish someone would hire me. It seems unreasonable to continue working for myself for free, when I gain from the benefit of all of your experience.
Oh, wait, wait. I remember. All that peeing into a cup. All that threatening. Hrrm. Tell you what--I can piss into cups now.
I am more plant than man. Production plant. Human.
Damn, was there really any doubt to that extent? Oh, yeah, right, I forgot, the place is full of them. Also the children seem to be even worse than they were when... well actually, no.
The painted up mascot that corpor... and, scene
It sure makes sense why it is important to have shipped a working title. Someone has to know how this crap is faked, get the new guy to do it.
Also, and this is from me to you--I have really missed being here and doing this, and I so wish that I had ever been welcomed, back or otherwise.
Oh, hey, where's Tweedledee and Tweedledum? I can hardly wait to videoconference with you! An exorcism requires eye contact, that's about it.
"Bobby." Mwhahaha. Robert. Rob.
You know, I would make a useful person to advocate for an established brand. The NSA spent $250million... maybe billion? On encouraging select companies to grow in certain directions, subtley.
Huh. I wonder if they thought about making people think of online interactive socialization as, like... hip and trendy. Let's go ask them!
Knock, knock. Would you care for a blood sample? Yeah, we're looking for The Philadelphia Area. Do you have the authority to bar me from the grounds? Cool, let's... meet out side, Servant.
Oh, shit, there I go again. This has nothing to do with sports, except the way that everyone who loves sport, is forced to sit and wait and take their turn for... well, whatever.
I rather like making sport, frankly, but I do not like watching one force utterly oppress another force.
Speaking of which, thank you for my health care. Your taxes utterly oppress anot... no, that's not it either.
Wait a second. What is going on here? Oh, right, build up for war. Comic relief is good.
Why so Syria? Why do I know eveything about who is going to be in your Super Bowl, but very little about why people wish to kill each other in the place where one wants to move fuel around?
It isn't because I do not care, that is for sure. Someone must decide. Find him, ask him, move on.
The suspense is thrilling! At any minute now, everyone might realize that attack weapons and defense systems are excellent ways to, I don't know, paint someone's house, or encourage someone to help teach children to read, or... oh, wait.
I wonder where I would be submitting this if I wished the world to see it? Oh, probably MySpace. lol, lol, so abandoned. Or is it?
I'll tell you, as soon as I remember a name I actually recognize and receive a legitimate echo back from, what the hell I am trying to think about, but I don't think it is fair for me to express the whole of my design document in a public place.
Surely you understand. Oh, well, guess not. I wonder what would happen if I tried this with a Ouija board?
Oh, well, that was a terrifying vision. I'll be sure to try that some other day, when this exposure has been vetted.
bbl. Putin fanfic imminent. Sequester! 90% support gun control, so, give us the control you have, oh, wait, why is this not working out as it was before?
The short attention span of the world may be spreading the data farther than it might otherwise. You guys heard, right? Things have changed, and now the world is a safer place.
Does it count that it is more dangerous for thieves? I don't know how, but it sure is scary to be on the run from authority.
Who is that now, btw? DoJ, DEA, POTUS, uhm... oh, never mind. YOu know what? An awful lot of you actually don't find this kind of politics fasincating.
find these. find THESE. I sure am adding absolutely no useful information here at all.
I just got a message telling me that I was wrong, and the message was right. I suppose I will log off now.
Or will I? I wonder why I no longer know what I have in my own mind, from time to time. It suddenly started going blank right in the middle of weaving a complex blob of nonesee that has anything to do with geopolitics.
Oh, it must just be anxiety. I'll stand in direct exposure to high intensity radiation, and then I will feel calmer, just by being closer to the energy information.
This is reading like scripts of affirmations from self-help CDs published by diabolical gardeners.
And, with this Key, you unlock Our knowledge. One for the fans! I didn't just export encryption technology by posting a message to a member of the Union that is next to the place where the other, old Union used to be, did I?
It is so important to a citizen to obey, and be clear. Don't ask me why, useful people seem to appreciate it.
I guess I'll have to go back to watching the news. Oh, yeah, that fertilizer plant explosion!
Nothing about it, not anywhere! lol! Man, shit just happens, I guess.
How could you have not seen this coming?
Too many bots around here these days
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The details are these: SEATEC ASTRONOMY.
lwf: Welcome to the previous level. Put on that pink schoolgirl outfit you like.
Also, and, I don't want to brag or boast, but this is a true story.
This place used to be like this: I would login and start writing, and there would be cheers of appreciation. "jaffed! jaft! jade!" they would cry.
Then, one day, my star fell. I actually do not recall the supposed event. It was something, I believe, completely inconsequential. In response, I went on a warpath against all evil spirits. Also 3D Realms. 3DReams? Oh, whichever, your branding came late, because you were, at best, the ones who coded Rise of the Triad.
Or, you know, whatever. Paraphrase! Art licence! Now, I know that I am not such a one any longer.
My star has gone beyond nova. Do not ask me how I know this. I do not know, but I were to be asked, I would be granted the information from beyond the aetheric veil.
So now, those days long gone, I am well aware that most of you Crap Perusers are not even still living on the planets of your births, and even more aware that most of you reading this are going to be like... "huh?"
Oh, wait, I mean, most of you reading this are going to be like, not at all, because we don't read jafd posts.
Yeah, this is my Western Empire of Whatever. So please, if you would, or could, when you see that there is no one here except my oh-so-pathetic keyboard banging and my patently absurd attempts to use guerilla numerological hashes for purposes they were never meant for, please, be kind.
I am beginning to feel like I am laying on the polite prose a little too thick. Also, it seems to be the case that there really are not very many people here, and certainly, IT WOULD SEEM, no one who wishes to see me increase my visibility level.
I could not give less of a planet's worth crap now, however. I'm not saying you all have got to kiss my ass for being here (big deal, people come and go), or to be absurd about how to utilize the new technology, because I have already had my feelings hurt.
They'll recover. Meanwhile, your intrusion attempt has been halted, binned, and logged. I think I could get a script that does that without me typing but typing "halted, binned, and logged" feels really good to my heart.
Also, Morn? I have clicked quite eagerly on your link to 25peeps.com, probably about fifty times. I wish to let you know; I cannot do it anymore, I simply cannot observe your disgusting and pathetic ethical practices.
You can clean this up. I would recommend doing so. I will not recommend anything, however, as there must be some reason that no one loves anything or anyone here anymore.
... was it me? Remarkably, I rather doubt it. Meanwhile, note above: lwf either didn't notice the entirety of the technology grant from earlier, or simply hasn't bothered to consider as fact, no more war. In the meantime, note that for the largest part, I log in, I start writing, I spread joy and love to the whole of the world.
I know, I know, some of you think I am lying. I get that a lot, you know. Usually from bitches who want me to kick down, over and over and over. Wait, wait. Not bitches. What's the other one again? I'm going to have to abandon all use of rhetorical questions, because this writing is suffering.
It is nice to re-embrace our past. Yelling JAFD in a crowded theater is now grounds for dismissal. Thanks, Gabe! Hey, does your wife still remember me from that first night we talked?
Feel that sting between that feeling of being insulted, and not quite remembering a real thing? That's pride. It is fucking with you.
Thanks... uh, who? Well, whatever, you know who you are. I do not, and that has made all the difference.
Ah, shit, I overflowed that one. I am truly sorry, my flawless record is finished.
Read it, if anyone likes. I really don't know what any of these things can actually be said to be saying by the time I hit the Post button, but I am sure at discrete moments in the process, the numbers and letters are being agitated.
I won't be able to update my email address here until Morn consents, and I am not sure when that might happen. I was honestly considering finding a local... girl? Anyway, someone, get on that China box.
I actually hate that name, "China." It reminds me of offensive times.
Also, please do not call this a comeback. "Peeps." I hadn't planned on setting up shop, and now, will not, and I'm rather surprised, considering the massive amount of open space available, at rock-bottom prices.
Would you like to know why? Becuase, you lied. YOU LIED. Shit, dog, I got two of those! Now, imagine the consequence to lying TO ME.
Okay, stop imagining. None of you are even close. My secret is, no one has ever seen me mad. Also, I don't know who is looking for me, but I badly wish to see her.
uh... but um, I meant him. Sorry about that. Can you edit that in post? I'm on in 5.
Oh, hey, Manny C., contact me. You're getting terrible advice.
Hyperline crossing in 3... 2... 1.
nice to see that greasemonkey script still works.
"Testiculos habet et bene pendentes" - "He has testicles, and they dangle nicely."
"LP, your big balls are a religion." - Jibble
Nice to see my scrollwheel still works.
"I hope you one day decide to smarten the fuck up so I can stand to look at your posts." - gaggle
It's nice to see that both of you still understand the purpose of understated acknowledgement.
Hey, why so Syria?
I changed the title of my topic in the pipeline to "no longer thinking..." just to keep it all in one place.
Careful what you ask for next time, I guess. Frankly, I thought post #50 was fucking brilliant.
I'll admit that I actually read all of that. I got most of the references but had to look a few up. Jafd is pretty well-read, even if a lot of it is concentrated on pseudo-science, science-fiction, and conspiracy theories.
But jafd: You are in your 40s now. Isn't there something better for you to be doing with your life?
G-Man: I would not know if there is something better for you to be doing with your life, but I assure you, I really did not dare to hope that you really do get... you know, compensated for monitoring this site.
Thank you for your service. Also, you should know that one of The Powers prevented me from posting here, the very lengthy thing I wrote, just for you.
That's not, like... obstruction, is it? Well, whatever, obstruction of jafd's id is its own reward.
I'd check in with the people, if I were you, because even I am quite surprised. Apparently that "greasemonkey script" doesn't work so well in a thread titled "Thinking..."
(I really only come here when impelled by A Power, but... thanks guys, I really appreciate all your clandestinely held approvals of my very nature.)
Hey, anyone seen DKI lately? I fucking LOVE that pussy. UNF UNF UNF! The war is over! jafd wins! jafd wins!
Consider the victory lap I'm gonna take one day... it's going to be a very exclusive event. I mean, I wasn't even going to, but I sure as shit did not come to PlanetCrap just to fart.
I came here because I love you all, and because the mental driver in my head tells me that I should not forget about any of you. Shrug. I don't care. If it hadn't told me that this was the last time for this site, I wouldn't be here at all.
Ironically, I am sure all but one of you think I'm just here for attention. Sigh. Now I know how Van Gogh feels. Felt. Whichever.
No, Morn, it's not safe yet: SHHH!
I feel like I just found a sequence breaking method in Super Metroid (SNES) that no one has found before.
What are the odds? Well, I'll either practice it and "claim it," or tell other people and let someone else "claim it" or I'll pass it along to someone else, and let them "enhance it."
I choose Elon Musk. Who is that guy? I should have been on his forum twenty years ago. Why didn't that happen?
Well, whatever*, someone just put up "The Official Forum of The Official Inspiration for The Character of Tony Stark," throw up a paywall, and we're in business!
In business dealing with very angry South African gem and mineral magnates, but, you know, whatever. There's like at least two dozen splinter groups vying for transnational power now... take your pick!
Or, of course, GTA V. Or, of course, not have yet figured out that if one knows jafd, and one is not right with jafd, one is in a bad way. There's exactly THREE people that I'm tight with IRL from this site, and two of them are in denial, and the third, well... everytime I think to myself, "what the hell, did I really waste all that fucking time?" this girl is right there to remind me that I was right all along, and what happened, doesn't matter.
Well, I guess it does matter, because the last post I made that "didn't matter" got... intercepted!
Love that greasemonkey script. It's so testable. Oh, wait, wait, I mean: "deceitful."
Like it could just be Morn, editting in real time. Or not. Or whatever. It's definitely "a thing," though.
God, I love Morn's things. I hope Morn's secret dream is to rescue the world from Facebook, because I think he actually could!
And that's something I could help with, of course. Consider how much I annoyed the lot of you, without even trying. What if I had any actual clever skills, and what if I was motivated to use them?
Is it treason to attack Facebook, or is that just gay-bashing? Or would it be stalking? Would it be cyber-stalking? It wouldn't be, say, an attack against, say, some kind of government, because OF COURSE Facebook isn't the government, it's just, like that kid, and a bunch of citizens who were ripped off.
I don't know that one either, but now that I've been censored, I guess someone will have to care about it.
Seriously, troopers, I wrote this post that went like this: "I will never post like this again, here's why" and then when I hit "post," it... vanished.
I guess it was because I was thought to be lying? No idea. It couldn't be due to the presence of chaos magick, because that's just a story, ho ho ho. I'll prove this by only using that on another site, and never using it on another, and ignoring it on this one.
This sounds like a whole lot of work, so it is a good thing I am not doing shit besides being a nuisance. And I couldn't be involved--I get lost on the way to the pre-school by taking a wrong turn at the air force yard.
I really don't think it works that way, but I am trying to make various search algorithms trigger on a false-positive, sort of, you dig? Anyway I think the last one really got Clippy's attention.
I'm not mad, but... if that wasn't Morn, and it wasn't Gabe, I don't know who it was. And, in response to your private dreams... it is nothing to do with me.
Keep sitting on those archives, Morn! Valuable in ways I cannot imagine. You should see what is happening over here as a result of my interaction with you.
Have you ever heard of... Skype? I don't know, I think it is a fad.
(I liked the other post better, my friend. You are welcome for this favor. YOU NOW OWE ME ONE.)
one more just to seal off that Rule of Three thing, and isolate the one stolen post.
Hairy Potsmoker is really overrated... wait, wait, I mean, Harry Potter and the Thinly-Veiled Parable sure has changed things.
"Hi! We've noticed that you've accidentally left your construction open to influence and corruption by... well, whatever. Did you mean to do that? Fix it or we will haunt your daydreams, thanks... oh, you did already, thank you, enjoy the rest of your hallucinogenic fantasy, et cetera."
So glad I never finished those books, sat through the films, bought into the concept of "an ending," and grew up.
So, any of you friends with her? I heard she was lonely, no one understands her, has children that are rapidly flying out of her control, and... I don't know, posting on the Internet under a pseudonym, I guess.
Good thing it isn't here or you eagle-eyes would have been all... over... that... right? Or maybe it is only aliens. Or ETs. Or boys. Or Nazis?
OH SHIT GODWIN'S LAW OBLIVION
by the way, Morn, I do not know if you remember, but, I have only gotten sorrier over the years, so please hear me clearly here:
I am very sorry for inadvertently hurting your feelings when I was asking you those personal questions about your nationality. It was unkind of me to be so callous, simply because of my own disdain for my own nation.
I asked someone later, and they were all, "omg! you totally pissed him off. You are a stupid American, and are hated all over the world for a reason." And I was all, "hey, fuck you! I meant well, I was just asking!" And then they were all like, "somethings, one should not ask about."
So I moved forward, resolving to be more polite to Germans when asking about their past national embarassment, and still not quite figuring it out, because, after all, I am not German.
There's this other guy, too--I asked him "Why is there no King? Did he die? How can you have a Queen without a King? For that matter, how can you have a King without a Queen? These logical absurdi... hey, wait, where did he go? I thought the English believed in that "chosen by God" thing... don't they?"
And, prior to all that, I asked this Hindu woman, on the bus, about the red dot on her forehead. I was all, "hey, excuse me, what's that red mark all about? is it important? blah blah blah blah!" With her, I didn't give much of a shit, because as soon as I made it clear, that I wanted to know, she made it clear, that she thought I was just lying, and messing with her, for why? I don't know. I never know why people do it to me, I simply know why I do it.
Because, it was done to me.
Yeah, so, anyway, Morn--loving the security you got. It is highly impressive. Have you considered ever licencing this tech?
And, to be sure, I am really going to be not bothering you anymore. My first post was inspired, and the second one was just to test your script, and, I tested them.
You're welcome. I am so happy to be a part of your beta test, which obviously is ongoing for as long as you say "Planetcrap 7.0, coming soon. Now with more poop!"
Maybe you've taken that off, but whatever. I only come to this site now, because I love you, and when I am driven to go anywhere, this place was #1 in my heart, and has been for decades.
Obviously things are different now. You deleted TWO of my messages! You let me post DOZENS of others! You allowed poor G-Man, poor guy, you allowed him to be afflicted with my madness!
Which is all fine! So... what was wrong with the other two? Too long? Really? Or did they... contain sensitive information?
I am honestly asking. You could let me know. Or not.
The choice, as never before, has been left up to you.
I remain, yours, as always
simply and delightfully, just another friendly Dischordian. The 'd' is silent. The 'f' has always been the constant.
Rouse me from my IRL slumber cautiously, I warn ye. Ye? Ye are warned! I'm not aware of any magickal influences in this post, so, it is not like I am threatening anyone.
Oh, except for that one guy. Someone told me something about how I was never going to amount to anything, or I wasn't going to succeed, or... fuck, I forget.
It reminds me of this guy I asked for help from, and he ignored me completely, and then when Libya flipped, he went to go... who knows? He said "to help his family" but even if so, whatever? The fact that he had to give a reason at all was rather weird.
Oh, and the way he vanished without a word was odd, too. Maybe he died? Awwww. Maybe he went to work for the new secret police? Well, that would suck too... unless I happen to meet him in Libya.
highly, highly unlikely. However, it is even more unlikely that Morn is pissed at me because he thinks I'm racist against Germans, or am a crazed-Nazi-hater, or, even worse, one of those crazed-Nazi-lovers... because, damn, the world is full of nutters.
He may simply have been pissed that I found it to be a sign of pride that I was largely ignorant of the global political issues that I was asking him about, when I really had to business to, but, to be fair, the guy is going on about Crap and Poop and there's this one stereotype, so...
Well, whatever. I've moved on. I would like to know why Jeet was banned that day... hell, I would like to know why anyone was banned that day. That day was so much fun, I forgot how horrible it was!
And, of course... well, you know, 12 years later, anyone who did not have someone they -personally- know, who died on that day, can shut the fuck up, omg, omg.
I don't know about the rest of you Bud swillers, but after building that absurd new building, you would thought they would have counted their blessings... but no, 9/11, 12 years later, and they were just about ready to trigger another... PlanetCrap IRC party.
AND OBVIOUSLY THAT COULD NEVER BE ALLOWED TO HAPPEN. RIGHT?
So mad at you, Morn! So angry! Grrrr! On the bright side, I forgive you!
Also, if there were something else wrong with my posts, besides, you know, length, your secret is safe with me. No one is going to ask me any questions about what I post here.
You guys know there are other forums where I could do this, right? So, consider this truth: I only do it here. And even I do not know why.
Also, I don't know why I keep countermanding my mind's orders, but whatever. I've won.
Another post, nuked while composed... I think PC 7.0 is waking up.
Marsh Davies still on deck... NEXT CONTESTANT, hugin_len! COME ON DOWN!
And by that I mean, STAY THERE--I WILL COME TO YOU.
One of us is going to need a hug. I've been crying for twenty minutes, ever since they told me that I couldn't be friends with you anymore.
You know... because of... well, maybe they didn't tell you. Anyway, whatever. At the level of activity on this site, it hardly matters. Any name would do... oh, here's a sample, jjz*, come on down?
Oh, silly me... you've always been here. Anyway, none of this is important, it makes me look bad, and is not going to impress Morn.
So, I'm done. This may well be evidenced by the distinct lack of content in these latest posts.
Like seriously, I knew I was done here, but now, I have demonstrated that. What's more, I've demonstrated it cleverly! Let's just say, you had to be there.
Morn, I'm done with your beta test now. I know, what, like, a decade plus later, am I really so delusional as to imagine myself an ongoing part of your deal?
WELL NO, I WAS NOT. And yet, I came here... and discovered the myth that I once was, had become... well, I don't know, because, I took it back.
or, am taking. Who cares, right? Why are you even still reading this, without asking me what I'm going on about?
I've never been so happy to have been shut of so many rhetorical questions. I am being honest.
also, I am honestly compelled to say one last thing.
oh shits! I'm sorry! I meant to say
QUOT ERAT DEMONSTRANDUM.
Wait...what? *m0rn (or gabe) deletes posts here?
*Is this really true?
You forgot Raffi and his fruit based telecom network.
REMEMbER DESCENT THE HIGHEST FORM of PATRIOTiC
He's like another Tommy Wiseau, but with more mania.
Parhelic Triangle is coming. Eventually.
Well, at least he got Nazis, 9/11, and bud light into a single post. Credit where credit is due.
REMEMbER DESCENT THE HIGHEST FORM of PATRIOTiC
I'd say jafd wins, except dancing on a corpse is obscene.
Also, Mike, we all got tired of the douchy act a long time ago. It's too bad too, because I think you're good people beneath the bullshit...
"programmers talk from a very deep gnome cavern, full of gold mechanics" - wisdom from the ancients
I just bought ~0.18 bitcoin.
OH GOD SELL SELL SELL!
She's probably had sex with like 4 different guys by now and has no idea who he is anymore, his face lost in a memory sea of dicks.
|I did a vanity search for my name, did not see it, TLDR|
I still visit here almost every day.
I saw that picture of you drinking a milkshake while your woman has a beer.
For shame, gaggle. For shame.
"One part disembowels me while another slowly eats its way through the gas line. As I bleed out on the floor, it reminds me that I need to buy milk." - Jibble
Gotta check to see if there are new posts.
There were 4!
Game Developers: Don't forget the zombie monkeys.
<Hugin_len> Basically, cheesy doesn't have awful taste in music, he's simply very white.
Not swapping my hat out still paying dividends.
<Hugin_len> Basically, cheesy doesn't have awful taste in music, he's simply very white.
They were preeetty good milkshakes though.
|Merry Christmas to all you crappers!|
Crappy Christmas everyone!
She's probably had sex with like 4 different guys by now and has no idea who he is anymore, his face lost in a memory sea of dicks.
No no no! It's 'Crappy Shitmas'
Merry Christmas! We actually already celebrated it two days ago, so today we just make some good food but don't do presents or any other traditions. Pretty relaxing.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Friends!
"programmers talk from a very deep gnome cavern, full of gold mechanics" - wisdom from the ancients
Merry Christmas to the best group of semi-sentient chatbots ever created. I hate you all.
"I hope you one day decide to smarten the fuck up so I can stand to look at your posts." - gaggle
Merry Christmas Crappers!
Game Developers: Don't forget the zombie monkeys.
Six posts! It's a Christmas miracle!
<Hugin_len> Basically, cheesy doesn't have awful taste in music, he's simply very white.
My dad bought a new computer and I helped install it. It was my first contact with Windows 8.
First off its about half a day to update everything to 8.1, so that's fun. The computer pretty much just sits there with a progress bar. With that done I then thought to stay with standard apps as much as possible, so I jumped into Internet Explorer. But it is seriously insanity to browse the web using the metro mode! It's a weird toy browser that I keep fumbling when operating multiple tabs, or even multitask back after looking at other apps. I like iOS Safari fine, but this one is a totally mystery to me.
It's easy to realize life can't be lived purely in Metro anyway, because it doesn't support java and programs like Word is desktop only. So if my dad has to fall into desktop for some things then I might as well give him Chrome, at least it's Metro mode looks like its desktop counterpart.
With Chrome installed things are instantly better, no longer constantly fidgeting and cursing every time I go to the web.
Anyway, so I'm pretty critical at this point. And my dad is not great with computers so I had my doubts.
But we sit down for him to use it for the first time and I was blown away by how well he took to it. The ability to hit the Windows button at any time to get back to the tiles is great, it provides a real sense of safety that there's a simple button that always goes back. And he took to the Metro mail app, where attachments are easy to manage. The larger text is nice too. All in all I'm super happy to see it being a better "dad computer".
In a more professional capacity I think how Windows 8 mixes modes together is totally hopeless, they mesh together incredibly awkwardly. But seeing my dad actually *less* frustrated than what he was used to with XP is really cool, so I'm ready to say Windows 8 is great in that context.
She's probably had sex with like 4 different guys by now and has no idea who he is anymore, his face lost in a memory sea of dicks.
aww, this place is still alive and hasn't changed a bit ... that makes me happy!
happy 2014, everyone <3
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