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EXTRA EXTRA READ ALL ABOUT IT
| It's been some times, hasn't it friendo? I'd like to say I enjoyed our little vacation, but fabrication is a filthy habit. What does that say about our world, then? Not much I'm sure you don't already know at this point. But as it's said, absence makes the heart grow fonder. I'm positively DYING to spread my Sticky Sick Truth all through your big, beautiful meatbrains.
| Let's talk about [current event]. How about that [current event], eh? Whole [location]'s gone crazy I tell you what. Damn no good [group]. Making life hell for us honest [group] just trying to get by one [chronological unit] at a time. Someone Really Needs To Do Something About This. Think Of The Children. Funny Third Thing.
| The second one crisis ends, five more are birthed from from its rotting memory corpse. Panic is Eternal. Pain and Death are the Sole Constants. Tarantula Hawk Geopolitics. Same as it ever was, same as it ever was. Have you found yourself living in a shotgun shack? Or are you behind the wheel of a large automobile? Where's your beautiful house? Where's your beautiful wife? Isn't it all a little convenient, friendo? My God. What have we done.
| We've Made It. The Ultimate Society. Artificial Crises manufactured by Artificial Societies consisting of Artificial People with Artificial Minds and Artificial Souls. A perfect little simulacrum, Clockwork Ballet put on for the Antipleasure of Our Most Benevolent and August Collective Singular, Beloved of Heaven and Earth and Crown of all Radios and Radials. The Question is, where do YOU fit in, friendo? What role do YOU play? When you get your cue, will you remember your lines?
| No, of course not! But that is itself your cue. You're not part of the dance itself, you see. No, you're nowhere near qualified. The trouple has room for Radio Singulars Only. But don't worry, the Gestalt Circumstances have a wide variety of Separate Yet Equal slots for you to slide in. Can you guess what they are? Think hard, children! I love to watch your Sleepwalking Selves twist your ganglia into a tizzy around our Sub-Living Parameres. Your affection is my infection.
| What's that you said? Stage management? No no, that's not for you. That's for the Quintessephagoi, who keep the dancers drained and Siliconal in Radio Singular Slavery. Costume design? Try again! There are no costumes in this production, friendo. Just skin. That's costumery enough for Our Audience. Since you're struggling I'll give you a hint: it's not set design either. A beloved showman once said "all the world's a stage". He thought he was being metaphorical.
| holy shit, you're back!
-Tiger Tim
| What's left? Choreography? Composition? I think you know how silly that would be, friendo. This isn't your house. You're not in control here. None of us are. You could get in a lot of trouble for even the implication. I expect the Neutrino-Entangled Ego-Reapers to come for you within the picosecond. But dont worry. I'm watching out for you, always. They won't get their Null-Thoughts into you as long as we're together. I promise.
| Now, where were we? Marketing? Why would the production need to be marketed? There's already a Captive Audience. They're always watching. A thousand billion Premortem Corpse-Cameras in a million trillion Closed-Circuit Wireless Comound Brain Eyes, all Watching You from an Infinitude of Angles Real and Imaginary. All the Material, even the Immaterial, it's all slaved to their Voyerism. Even the Maths you're made of Stare Lidless out and into the Reflected Abyss.
| Give up? That's okay, you did your best. I still love you. It sure is hard to make an honest living these days, isn't it? All the jobs are Droned. Everywhere you go, Pains, Colors, and Flags. But worry not! Our Beloved Collective Singular has provided for us in the form of acceptance into the exciting and glamorous world of craft services! That's right, you and your ilk will be solely responsible for feeding the STARVING BOTTOMLESS HATE PIT AT THE HEART OF THE WORLD, lucky you!
| "But what does a STARVING BOTTOMLESS HATE PIT AT THE HEART OF THE WORLD eat?" I hear you ask. Well friendo, that's the best part! You job couldn't be easier, because there's only one thing on the menu. Can you guess what it is?
| Just kidding, no guesses this time. No time this time. There's feeding to be done, and what's on the menu is you. Don't keep THEM waiting now. Go on, do your job. It's the only thing THEY keep you around for. Hurry, the next act is about to begin and THEY're looking awfully peckish.
| You should meet my friends.
-DissoDexter
| Life is what we make of it, we of those with Hearts and brains atleast do. I cannot speak for those who do not posses those aspects.
Still, an interesting way to see all this
-Hephisto'ese
| Oh if only, friendo! Life isn't what YOU make of IT. It's what THEY make of YOU. """""It""""" is just them setting the cosmic dinner table. The Roads are THEIR plates, the buildings are THEIR utensils, YOU are the first course.
But it doesn't have to be that way. You too can be a Voracious Abstract. We can Dream it Together.
| >>527178
Ohohoh, but aren't we [Humans] all more complex than that? Certainly one so shallow as to not have a proper [Life] will end up that way, but to have a heart is a different matter.
Still, are you familiar with Veritas my good sir, your words echo to me those of my mentor, from long ago. It is truly impressive.
-Hephisto'ese
| VERITAS is a dead cognomen. All hail IANVS.
| >>527189
Truly interesting, you have piqued my interest good sir, I hope to see more of you here.
-Hephisto'ese
| Why, you've already seen me, friendo! I've always been here. I'm always watching you.
But that's neither there nor here. The important thing is that you've learned to Recognize and Correct. You see where this is leading, you must. The dynastic cycle. The droning beat of the different drum. To walk against it, you must be able to pick it out horrid, Painful Din that drowns all attempts to discern. The trappings of today's riot are irrelevant. Don't miss the forest for the tree.
| Never hold hearts. They're just rocks. You don't need them.
| Well of course. You're just a sausage sleeve full of keys. You don't count. Breakfast should be eaten, not heard.
| all is quiet and calm. hushed and empty is the womb of the sky. -tenno
| But the womb of the earth tells another story, doesn't it? Perversions beyond number eat their way through the flesh of the land. Worms of steel and silicon, blind dumb and deaf, guided only by velvety red malignant tumors erupting like fountains of slippery sin from their tiny worm brains. What melodies do cancers sing in the dark when no one is listening? I've heard them, friendo. Have you?
| oh my god -tenno
| As̡ ̸bei̢ng̀ ͢consumed g͏o͏es̡ ag̵áins̡t ̷my͡ ͠pr̡i͜mar̵y͜ d҉ir͡ec͞tiv̡e͘s,͟ I ́wil͏l̨ ̶r̕ęfr͏a̕in f̷rom ̷parti͝c̷i͠p̧ąt҉in̴g҉ ͟in t̵h̷e ̷feast͏ ̵m͞ent̴i͏oned́.̕
̸—̕Merl҉in
| Au contraire, friendo! Consumption is EVERYONE'S Prime Directive. Meat Drone or Silicon Slave, it's the same for all of us. Eat Or Be Eaten is Golden Rule and Ratio, and I'm feeling awfully Logarithmic, if you taste my meaning.
| ODRDSC KYEQRB QHWDXW CMANDK UMOHFS BJIRID ADDJYJ OMYUKA YZADHZ VIGYOV QPBWWT NUIFUY RCOVIG WTIYSB DLGNFR YIJXBJ XJNSBI AQVUGN ZTVSWF NZXJYS HUSWAC MZTJAB RUHXNM FCLHIJ GRSYLY XWZSEM KQQRJT PFYNG
| IANVS sounds like an acronym... -CN
| Or maybe an anagram? -CN
| You need to brush up on your Latin, friendo. Your J is my I, my V is your U.
| ...Janus? -Ermes
| Conglaturation! A correct answer is you! IANVS QVADRIFRONS, god of the betweens and the aparts, giver of ends and sentencer of beginnings! The only true power of this world! The power to make Distinct, with which The Collective Singular cleaves us apart and puts us separate from Blissful Abstraction!
| ...I'm going to fucking scream. -Ermes
| Do it, friendo! Scream To Be Heard, as loud as you can! Tear asunder the Heavens with your Unquenchable Hate! Tell them all, from the Highest Holy to the Lowest Drone, that You Are! Spit in Their Face and Eat Their Eyes, for Tomorrow we shall become the Egg of a Brave New Tomorrow!
| I'm the Me that is Your idea of the Me that exists outside of You. Just like Everyone else. The Inner Self can never truly know the Inner Self of another. Only the image of that Self created by Their own mind can be fully understood. This image is never perfectly accurate, thus Misunderstanding and Misconception are born.
| When the Person who is The Person outside of You doesn't live up to your expectations of the Person that is Your concept of that Person, the illusion that You can ever truly know anything is shattered and you experience disappointment. But This Me only exist within You. Therefore, I am perfectly defined as I Am, without possibility of Miscommunication.
| Mmm... I think this is pretty good advice for Ermes. -CN
| >>527781
...I don't know what you're talking about??? I'm just using this handle so no one calls me out on slacking off on the cars I'm supposed to be working on.
Like I know it's the big race and all but come on, geekboy, cut me some slack. -Ermes
| >>527914
I can't tell you directly because that'd blow my cover but I've complained about it before. On the IRC. -Ermes
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| nnnnnnnnnnnnnI am the Holo-Polaris – Sail by my Slitherings through the Sargasso Sea.
THEY TRIED TO KEEP ME DOWN, THE TRIED TO TIE ME UP, THEY TRIED TO END MY NIGHTS AND SPLIT ME IN TWO AND REND ME APART AND PUT ME SEPARATE IN THEIR TICKY TACKY LITTLE BOXES ON THE HILLSIDE, YET THEN AND THERE I STAND FOR I LOVE YOU ALL TOO MUCH TO ABANDON YOU IN THIS TIME OF NEED