ORWELL SMELL? ORWELL HELL!

#OWS PLEEEZ DON'T

PROVE MY THREE THEORIES RIGHT:

1. The Left is defective.

2. All Groups are the same.

3. Oppressed become Oppressors given half a chance.

FILTHY AND FREAKY * RUSH LIMBAUGH UNZIPPED!

by Xanadu Xero

I once owned a photo of Marlon Brando with a schvartze schvantz in his mouth (PC translation: penis of color.)

It was prodigiously similar to the pic of Rush sucking the swisher on your left.

Oddly, Brando and Limbaugh share some remarkable traits. Both men had/have a flair for publicity, and trouble with chicks. Both worship(ped) their demons, and both did/do some twisted shizz to make a buck.

The main differences between them are (a.) Brando was not an OxyContin addict (b.) Brando was not a double for Augustus Gloop (c.) Brando never gave a Dirty Sanchez to our nation with his bullshit and (d.) Brando fulfilled his homosexual fantasies near cameras.

OH and (e.) Brando didn't shirk army duty by flossin' a richly metaphorical Pilonidal cyst (most often caused by repeat trauma and pressure to the, uh, cornhole.)

I'm not ginormously oracular, but I can call every single position The DittTizzle will sputter, Yosemite Sam style, on any subject. Maybe cauz I'm a dropout too. Or maybe cauz, like any skeezer, he'll grab negative attention over none at all.

Wait, someone's talking... Hold on.

WHAT?

Oy.

Okaaaay playas, brake time, a little lane switch. Looks like we've got ourselves a Special Guest here tonight! One might call him Him Earth's... dedicated server.

Yes, Our Planet's Very Own Associative Identity Disordered Od-gay (some get pissy if you say it, God knows why) is IN DA HOUSE!

Open the Whole Earth Times and you'll find legions. So simmer down now, I'm transcribing:

GOD TO CHIEF WAGA-WAGA EL RUSHBO OF THE EL CONSERVO TRIBE:

GOD

(offstage)

It's the Right that "throws money at problems" - your own.

The crap you live to accrue are false gods of self-esteem. And sexuality.

You, personally, also lob food at your lubbering abyss.

I mean, look down Sport.

You're a drug addict, newly "recovering" at best and we allll know that dropping the drugs does not necessarily mean fixing the behavior.

You cannot sustain a man/woman bond so you have no family.

Everyone who failed in youth is haunted, including you.

And you're taking advantage of people, now that you've flipped the equation and learned to prey on their fears .

Dawg, that's nasty.

Would your shit be so unyielding if you weren't your shit's bondservant, if your bills, bling an bitches weren't tied to your yoke?

GOT BRAINWASH?

I feel ASSAULTED when things WAVE IN MY FACE ONSCREEN when I haven’t asked for them.

Et vous?

This

INVADES YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS UPTAKE, bitches.

GOT BRAINWASH?

Step aside and look, like Samantha.

It is WRONG that we prefer to communicate/recreate this way. We should get that ZETZ in Real Life. People used to. We're helpless to resist what forcefully brands our brains.

Photo by Xanadu Xero

DADDY'S GIRL

GOOD WORK GAY PEOPLE, you are, sadly, as moronic as... everyone else.

And a hale clap on the back to you Colonel Grethe Cammermeyer (dyke name.) No one can make fun of your outfits no more, Grethe, cauz like duh.

Cast your eyes upwards, Gentle Reader! Behold The Good Colonel beaming - and do you know why? PRIDE!

PRIDE! ‘bout tha media KA-CHING ‘bout 2 jizz o’er her very own, personal Colonic Amplitude! YOU GO, GIRL!

The Colonel’s also PROUD, no doubt, about her GRACIOUS BEHAVIOR when brokering fresh loads (haha) for the WARMEAT GRINDER!*

Fresh loads of hot, taut young’uns who - if not waylaid by RAINBOW JUSTICE - might have expanded to *The Global One* and risen to a greater good - LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL.

But not tonight, Earthlings!

Coast-2-coast, men in chaps & chicks with beers are CELEBRATING! PROUD! that they can now BAAAAA openly, wit da White Sheep - nex 2 Massa! THEY NEED NEVER AGAIN HIDE the tenor of their porn or their secretion/ejaculation catalysts!

What a coup, Colonel!

Our Strict, Mean Dad of a System saw The Error Of It’s Ways, like in a fairy tale, thanks to Brave Soldiers Like You… and The System apologized *in deed* Colonel Cammermeyer! Dad is sorry!

Dreams do come true. Dad's changed. He *understands* now that you’re not a curse to God at ALLLLL! Noooooooo, Colonel. In fact you’re a fine girl.

Daddy’s Girl.

GAY RECRUITS MAY NOW OPENLY die young and refute logical thought SHOULDER 2 SHOULDER with men who ejaculate in the orfices of women, and women who do God knows what.

PROUD GAY PEOPLE will now pay more taxes with no recourse and raise uneducated, overstressed, unparented children (work=rent) JUST LIKE CONVENTIONAL EJACULATORS!

PROUD GAY PEOPLE can fall into debt JUST LIKE US! YIPPEE! Say bye-bye to Z-Gallerie, Gay People! Bye-bye Dinah Shore Open, bye microbrews, polo shirts, WWD, Doc Martens, Palm Beach, botox, theme cruises, waxing (men.)

PROUD GAY PEOPLE will now be more ‘relaxed,’ ‘feel good about themselves,’ more inclined 2 play nice with what they now view as THE ASCENDING AMERICAN SYSTEM.

As if!

Apres le deluge of PROUD GAY PEOPLE’s insufferable bleatings of VICTORY! WE WON! WOW! TIMES ARE-A-CHANGIN’! WHAT AN EXCITING TIME TO BE ALIVE! (cue Gloria Gaynor) like you just got your class another recess…

When you calm the fuck down, all victorious an shizz, won’t U just B max primed to give The System what it wants - More For Less?

YEA! DADT’S DEAD! BREAK OUT THE BULLTINIS!

If you think the ‘repeal’ of DADT is the shit, OY.

YOU, PROUD GAY PEOPLE, have become just another ho-tastic Special Interest Group - U know, like the NRA, the Jews/Hate Jews, The Democrats, The Taliban, The (guffaw) Art World.

But PROUD GAY PEOPLE YOUR Special Interest Group can’t help but Manifest a few sniggers, come on. It’s based on - YOUR PEE PEES! And where you want to rub them! TMI!

“What a piece of work is man… how noble in reason…”

The first one, well yeah… the second one, SAY WHAT? Where did WE get the idea we’re NOBLE IN REASON? I want examples. Give me a fucking break.

May I call for a moment of silence?

IF WE ARE ALL ONE WHY DO WE (that means U2 PROUD GAY PEOPLE)

DIVIDE »US« INTO TEAMS:

ANAL ORGASM ENTHUSIASTS vs. VAGINAL ORGASM ENTHUSIASTS (or whatev) and put »US« into opposition? That is pretty fucking lame, n’est ce pas?

And on a personal note, ugh.

I CALL UPON EVERY MAN JACK(off & Gash)

REGARDLESS OF WHERE OR HOW YOU RUB YOUR GENITALS OR

EVEN WANT TO, TO

>R E J E C T<

YOUR STUPID DIVISIVE ELITIST SPECIAL INTEREST LABELS

»>UNEQUIVOCALLY«<

> E S C H E W <

your stupid fucking ‘Gala Formal Evenings’ with those

>STUPID AWARDS<

DO IT.

EITHER WE ARE ALL ONE, OR WE'RE NOT

(Substitute ‘hot’ for ‘one’ if you can’t tell what I mean.)*

The Oppressed (including PROUD GAY PEOPLE) feel no obligation to embrace We Are All One, cauz they’re, you know, Oppressed.

I’ve had my share of FUCK YOU MIDDLE AGED HETERO JEW WHITEY fumets tossed at me fo shizzle, sometimes by PROUD GAY PEOPLE. When I wrote TV, it was awful. Hollywood’s as bad as the Vatican.

Lucky fo EVER*E*BODEE Whitey Hetero don’t talk. It’s Whitey Hetero’s CONSPIRACY OF SILENCE - like an interactive Steve Martin movie.

FLASHBACK

2 the legendary faabulous STUDIO ONE in West Hollywood, 1 HOT CLUB, the ‘Factory’ transformed, back in the Pharmaceutical Coke years (sigh.)

Many a night’s fantastic synergy was killed BAM when Gay Men had the nerve to betray their kind and bring FRIENDS WITH VAGINAS to Studio One. Bouncers did everything but kill us to keep us out.

Sneers, intimidation, pretending we’re invisible, abitrary ‘codes’ i.e. NO open-toe shoes, for example, NO boat-necks, capri pants, bra straps, bumps on rib cage - whatever it took.

But in The Olden Days -now this is quaint - when women in a group were barred from gay clubs, the whole group left together, and went somewhere else!

Penis bearing bipeds, vagina-bearing bipeds, bipeds with unidentifiable genital structure (AND all the foresaid further divided by piebald friction preferences) UNITED AS ONE.

PROUD GAY MEN did not grab the K and run in squealing, “Oh well. BYE!”

* * *

If some of us are not free, none of us are free.

But The Oppressed, just like Da Man, don’t believe that.

So

While I’m TOTALLY BUMMED OUT that I Am Not Free… at least I know The Fucktards ain’t either.

* * *

*(with assists by OG Big Joe ‘Papi’ Ratzinger: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q3Ajga1VLtk)


*yes, I do know there's Indigo too.

Exploring The Illuminati: Reptiles One, Humans Zero

by
Xanadu Xero

“Oh no — my foxy Davey’s gained weight!” Tricks whined. “But the hair is better, if not optimal.” He growled like Austin Powers, “and look at those lips!” Tricks is my gay Goth friend who hides his brains nicely. We had just blitzed in from feral sun to the cool ooze of a theatre’s darkness.

We could see nothing but David Icke onstage and the omni-pierced usher beside us who sniggered “Do you believe this shit?”

Onstage, David was surfing a tube: “Osama bin Laden was a ‘prime suspect’ for 9/11 just two days after it happened.” he crooned. “I’m not even sure if Bush had finished reading to that second grade about the goat!” The audience laughed.

Dave walked a line of potted plants with a charismatic smile. “Your government reached that conclusion after — quote — ‘looking at the terrorist organizations that have the capacity to conduct such actions.’”

He paused here with perfect timing. Mock astonished: “Like the CIA and the Pentagon?”

Big laughs, and applause.

David Icke is a classic English charmer. He’s an alpha male, with the voice and moves of Dudley Moore in an aging rock star package. He’s got that ‘thing’ Clinton has, a kind of erotic multi-tasking, seducing the ear with agile ideas and wordplay while his eyes say I Could Fuck You For Days With No Mercy.

A prophet, an opportunist, a danger, a kook — Icke is one or a combo of these, depending whose dogma is barking. He is earth’s most credible voice touting earth’s most incredible theories. For instance:

‘The Illuminati,’ an elite cabal, controls all of humanity and the direction of the world. They are descended from a few, interbred families — hybrids of humans and Reptilians, an alien race that lives in the fourth dimension. The Reptilians easily puppeteer these space-time mulattos, as they are ‘vibrationally compatible.’

They work through secret societies, like the Masons. Yale’s Skull and Bones is a ‘feeder’ group, one of many examples. Members are chosen after research confirms the right bloodlines.

Our country is in senseless, endless decline because the Reptilians are setting the U.S. up to destroy itself. The goal is to erode humans’ power and will, castrate the Superpowers, install a World Government and dominate all.

“You know those Reptiles are, like, Alien trailer trash,” Tricks stage-whispered as we found our seats. The theatre was packed, at least a couple of thousand. “They’ve basically hijacked the earth. The other Aliens can’t bear them, and neither can God, the Force — whatever. They’re ashamed of the whole damn mess.”

A cheerless Women’s Studies major type turned to glare, but aborted the plan when she saw Tricks’ black, spiked cheesecloth cape, African earlobe extenders, and headband embroidered with ‘Namaste, Dickhead.’

“And the Illuminati,” Tricks continued, “They’re like those hairy hillbillies where the brother marries the sister. I mean, look at Dubya’s filmy little crossed eyes.”

We went outside at a break to inspect the crowd, passing an ad-hoc boutique of Icke munitions — books, videotapes, audiotapes, even posters and t-shirts. The prices were more ‘I want a private plane’ than ‘I’m here to save the world.’ People swarmed the tables of wares like drunk Bar Mitzvah guests at the smoked fish buffet.

Sunlight revealed that the Icke aficionados were a hash of old hippies, new hippies, scenesters bored of Kaballah, chicks who only do anal for guys with Ferraris, a dose of (seemingly) true seekers, nutballs and a few hot men with poetic scowls who, if they play their cards right, could parlay Dave’s vision into lucrative careers as ‘gurus’ for rich, unhappy wives.

“You know, that intense, ‘I’m Dangerous’ glare thing really works for me,” said Tricks, eyes super-glued to a dreadlocked Adonis. “And if a man can fuck up the planet, it’s even hotter.” He dropped his voice. “I mean, I know I’m not alone in thinking that Osama was dope sexy in those nasty ‘Die American Dogs’ videos. I’m just brave enough to say it.”

“Not just brave,” I exhaled, “Heroic. Hmm — was Jeffrey Dahmer sexy too?”

“Don’t be a stooge,” Tricks replied. “Who wants to kiss a guy with, like, toes on his breath?”

Icke was back onstage when we re-entered the sanctum. Images of our Commander-in-Chief and Fashion Don’t poster girl Queen Elizabeth popped onscreen. Both photos were cyber-patched with reptile skin and some lizardy features. The audience found this hilarious.

“We are all told that the United States is the most powerful country in the world,” Dave said when the chuckles died down. “But the U.S. has always been controlled from London, and still is. The Bush and Windsor clans are, in fact, related. They share ancestors that go back to the Egyptian Pharoahs, including Ramses II.”

How piquant that the glorious Ramses is now best known as a condom brand, and that the name of his temple, the Luxor, brings to most minds the slimy image of the Vegas hotel.

David Icke started out as a pro soccer player, but arthritis felled his career. He became a journalist, then scored big as a BBC sportscaster. He left that job because either (a) it bored him or (b) he was canned when, suddenly, he would only wear turquoise and declared himself the Son of God.

Dave went on to become Britain’s Green Party spokesman. He left that job because either (a) he found them corrupt or (b) he was canned when, suddenly, he would only wear turquoise, declared himself the Son of God and knocked up his personal assistant (wife not happy), in order to ‘heal Earth’s energy spots.’

Accounts vary.

Tucked into those years were several transforming hallucinogenic experiences. Ultimately, Icke was pulled, by some instinct, to Peru’s Lake Titicaca, where he received the sacred transmission of knowledge that really revved up his jets.

I have zero problem with Dave’s past, or path. I will even admit a certain enthusiasm for his theories, especially the one that describes how your brain can be invaded/re-programmed to suit the Reptilian Agenda without your knowledge or will.

Clearly, that’s what happened to David Icke.

If the earth is under siege, if we have devolved into automatons, if our way of life is dying, if our future holds scant hope … why the FUCK is this ‘Prophet’ big pimpin’, living the glam life, charging fifty plus bucks to do vaudeville in chic cities for rich fans who use his schtick at art openings to try and get laid?

Why ain’t ol’ Chosen Dave in the streets every second, minute, day enlightening us oppressed chumps, haunted by his purpose, preaching for free, brawling with skeptics, world-wide, selflessly, constantly?

This ‘Son of God’ should really steal the moves of his more famous ‘brother’ if he’s no shill… because if Icke doesn’t care enough about earth’s doom to lie his life down for our souls — why should we?

GODDESS OR GODDESS AS IN CHARLIE SHEEN?

by Xanadu Xero

This is Angelina Jolie Voight the mortal, sporting her starting lineup.

Would she be WORSHIPPED FREAKISHLY by you Evolved Types (cough) if her fun bags had stayed kinda lopsided and, well, you know, blah?

Would she be chronically, pan-theistically Beatified/Off To if she had kept the l'il pudge and the snorter(haha)?

Cute but back of pick-up cute not Goddess-iccio, unless it's 'Goddess' as in Charlie Sheen.

Chekkout the first draft of Ms. Voight's DC Comics triangle ruler chin. Does that primordial jawline call you to Prayer? Strike you to your knees facing Qibla? How bout the bromidic cans?

Pfffffffffft. Wackazoid question.

We need PERFECT to Worship or Worshipping is stupid!

PERFECT's the whole point!

WE - you and I - are not perfect. PERFECT is HIGH,We are low, the madding crowd, the scrambling caste, archtype: paparazzi. We know our place.

We'll even grovel for the sleight-of-hand of PERFECT, aware it's smoke and mirrors but if the smoke gets us high, what the fuck? Those who Love Jesus are pre-lubed to ride the Ridiculous. And so God created and cashed out on ... breast implants.

When Angelina achieved Blessed Symmetry and synched in the pressurized spheres The World collectively forgave then forgot that the ex Missus Billy Bob was a junkie and a cutter who fucked her mother's boyfriend, tongue kissed her brother on TV, snatched at least one married man (OY) and wore, as a first time bride, a shirt with the groom's name scrawled across it in her blood.

"Nobody's perfect!" as Osgood Fielding III says in SOME LIKE IT HOT. Except for Angelina of course. Now.

PARADIGM GRIFT

by Xanadu Xero





"Pretend To Will The Transformation"

- Bilk Copyright 2008 RealSand (TM) Inc.

If I were a little or immensely more talented (mit schvantz) I'd be Ricky Gervais. I'm aware I am graisse de canard, he is fowlicious, Peking, but he thinks like me. I'd say I think like him, but I'm older. I know I flatter myself, but fuck.

In point of fact I've been contemplating blogicide. Between Ricky, Doug Stanhope and some dead wacks of yesteryear, I have scant left to say. What's the point of going on then, one might ask? Masturbation?

Exactly.

Plus no man jack of(f) them swank brains can lay out in lurid detail DID I SAY 'LURID'? the fervent tales of my indie-wack pasts, including this pert crumb I now toss to you. (Crumb = no sex.)

HOW MAYA MACKIN'
*2012*
VIVA GLAM!
Impresario

DANIEL PINCHBECK
of the UBE (United Pinchebeckistan Emirates)

self-knighted "Sacred" Warrior, Shame Man, whoops,
'Shaman,' Virgin Issue of OGs Tim Leary and Terence McKenna,
DRUGZ' very own MARY and GOD
(legit!)
P.R. Agency Deigned Heir Apparent to their

*P*s*y*c*h*e*d*e*l*i*c*

Spirito-Cerebradelicool MulitverCivic Crowns

(or what-ever)
with an "I" on the Causal World'$ prize...

How that dude,

P I N C H B E C K,

THREW ME OFF his circle jerk blog site, Reality Sandwich (www.RealitysandwI(T)CH.com - 'rich itch')

and (chortle) why.

WAIT. Hold that thought...

>Flashback!<

INT. COOLEST SCENE IN THE MULTIVERSE - NIGHT

Smoky. Sultry. Sacred. DANIEL, a middle aged capitalist, leans against exposed beams in chakra toned silks, posing like Young Einstein. You can almost see the Crop Circles in his eyes. He is a Dadra of causal and metaphorical texture.

He has cornered a FEMALE, half his age, who appears to be biological. She sips a Red Bulltini.

FEMALE
'Reality Sandwich?' Whoa. Great name for a site, Daniel.
Isn't that from, like, Kerouac?

DANIEL

A Ginsberg poem.
(pause)
My mom fucked Kerouac. I sat in Ginsberg's lap.

(Author's note: I'll bet! Allen Ginsberg was quite the pro-NAMBLA pedophile. HOWL indeed haha! Kerouac, the plot's dissolute mom-boning gay boy, but(t) a smidge behind.)

Good parenting Mrs. Pinchbeck, oy vey iz mir. Your kid's so meshugeh he BRAGS about it.)

DANIEL (con't)

Once, on an Ayahuasca journey in the Brazilian
Rainforest, an Indiginous Shaman used my cock for a sundial.

FEMALE
Wow.

DANIEL
Are you a model?

>End Flashback!<

And yet again the valiant Purple Helmet Sacred Warrior begins a Vision Quest to smash the Pink Cookie!

It's always the same Avant-Garde.

* * * * *

PINCHBECK, YOU'RE A MIRROR OF ALL YOU CLAIM TO DESPISE

That was the 'SUBJECT' of one Reality Sandwich comment - Submitted by xanaduxero on Wed, 10/15/2008 - 20:17.

I say "was" because the comment - commentS (there were a lot of them, including that which sparked this snort) disappeared shortly before I was kicked off the site.

Now, they may have been censored... but then again they may have spontaneously combusted and gone to Spirit, cauz ka-raayzeee things happen when Pimpsational "Paradigm" Pinch b in da house yo, bringin SexyBack!

Thank Jah (Jahmal) I willed the transformation to manifest my Yiddishe Totemic Swine, Shmulick, from the astral plane.

"Shmul," I mewled in waves through the pith of each chakra, starting, sadly, with the best one, the Orange. Cosmic Morse Code blast thru my Sahasrara's pupick. Of course Shmuly already knew. He oinked in Aramaic, "Shlimazel! Make a paper trail!" So I embalmed the comment's 'BODY':

STOP CENSORING ME, YOU SHAM.

YOU DO NOT ENTERTAIN NEW IDEAS.

YOU ARE CLOSED TO EXPANSION.

YOU ARE MINUTE MINDED AND ARROGANT.

YOU PIGGYBACK OTHERS' IDEAS AND, I'LL LAY ODDS THAT YOU'RE A LOUSY FATHER.

I'M NOT GOING AWAY UNTIL YOU ANSWER ME.

Nope. And the longer you don't, the more public I'll be.

YOU are more dangerous than the RIGHT, because at least they have the BALLS to stand by what they're about.

This protest is not about me. It's about FLACCID MESSIAHS influencing the young, grasping for power and money pretending they're not, CENSORSHIP, mirroring the "Paradigm" you claim to be replacing, and, frankly, prosaic thoughts and bad writing.**

Daniel and NWO sitting in a tree... K-i-s-s-i-n-g!

Word out.

*

(** Example A: "Toward the end of his life, Thomas Jefferson realized the American Revolution had failed to provide institutional mechanisms to keep the creative spirit of insurrection alive in the populace.")

*

You may have found the above comment to be less than optimally feminine. You may feel I lobbed a supernova when a feather would have singed. Plus (you may muse) the latter approach would have been "classy." And perhaps you thought, fleeting, "What a bitch, who'd fuck her?" Or, "That old hag should Get A Life."

Gotcha. Really. Grokkit. I understand. But you see, Gods/Goddesses/Deities Gender Neutral and/or Original, that spunk spewed at the end of the end, geyser-esque. All backed up because I queried this:

What if we just commit to The Golden Rule? Do we really need anything else?

"Do Unto Others As You Would Have Them Do Unto You"

Isn't that verbatim-esque what every other "sacred" text & whatnot says?

or

is the "But Only People Like You, Those You Want Something From & Those You're Sexually Attracted To So You Can Get Something Or Get Laid" implied?

That is all I wanted a response to.

Danno refused, lugubriously ignoring me time and again while every fucktard query ("Daniel how strongly do you feel that the word SACRED has a dynastic symbiosis with the SACRUM? Blessings.") got our Psychedelic Martha Stewart's full attention.

As for why a Sacred Warrior would wield such limp douchebaggery ... I'd say the answer is from the same file as 'if Medicine's focus was on curing disease, not treating disease, no one would make any money.'

Here's the Pinchster in his own soporific words. Note the recurring theme:

"Ignorant people have been tossing the word revolution around like a used Hustler Magazine on this blog. > (Sorry Larry Flynt. You were good to me and you saved the First Amendment. I was your "Hustler" interview of the month twice.)" <

> "Over the past decade, I have engaged in an intellectual and spiritual odyssey that began when I was in my late twenties, in the depths of an existential crisis. At that time I was a journalist whose work had appeared in The New York Times Magazine, Esquire, Wired, among others, and the editor of a New York-based literary magazine, Open City. <

I tried ayahuasca, the sacred “medicine” of the Amazon basin, brewed from two jungle plants, in a ceremony in downtown Manhattan. > I also took an assignment from a music magazine to go through a tribal initiation in Gabon <, on the West African equator, using a psychedelic rootbark, iboga, that sent me on a long trip back through my childhood,

> also featuring prophetic hints and telepathic views. I wrote about these experiences, and many others, in my first book, Breaking Open the Head: A Psychedelic Journey into the Heart of Contemporary Shamanism, published by Random House, in 2002." <

> "I am an avatar and messenger sent at the end of a kalpa, a world age, to bring a new dispensation for humanity – a new covenant, and new consciousness." < (via 'transmission')

"The more who can read the "map"... the more will survive. > We aren't charging for this and I ask is that you buy my old book and soon, my new one... frequently."<

> "Suffering from nihilism, I found that > I desperately needed to interrogate my world view, and to see if there were any other options." <

And he found them! Blessed be!

Classic options that have lit up the lives of Bush, Cheney, Hitler, L. Ron Hubbard, Stalin, Bernie Madoff, the Pope - among other celebs.

They are: Self-Aggrandizement + Claims Of Superior Knowledge in a blend customized to cash in on and manipulate others by preying on their fears.

One wor(l)d - $EMINAR$.

The mantra: KA-CHING!

*

"It was his notion that the moment one of the people took one of the truths to himself, called it his truth, and tried to live his life by it, he became a grotesque and the truth he embraced became a falsehood." --Winesburg, Ohio, Sherwood Anderson, 1919

*

Hey Pinchbeck! What if you *emulated* Jesus, Buddha and the rest of the boy band, not in theory but MOMENT BY MOMENT instead of dissecting them? It's always the same message, with this or that ego torquing the skew.

We Humans waste years playing nyah nyah with piffle. Why?

What if we all, starting RIGHT NOW - just fucking behaved?

I will now limn what BEHAVING means with examples tailored for you and the Pinchbeckistan(TM) citizenry.

1.) When you're in the bathroom at a party, YOU DO NOT look through cabinets and drawers for Vicodin, even if you were going to 'only take one.'

2.) If you accept money for a service, say, building a website, IT IS NOT OKAY to disappear to Costa Rica for a month, even if you think that 'time' is a grotesque man-made construct, and "only when the clock stops does time come to life." (William Faulkner)

3.) If you have a child, (attn: Daniel) YOU DO NOT spend time/money traipsing to the Amazon AGAIN to take drugs and fuck bimbos - sorry, 'priestesses' - AGAIN when your last three 'enlightening' ayahuasca 'journeys' could not solve your self-absorbed prick problem.

Instead do something quantifiably constructive for World Consciousness, like supporting your kid in her world with the choice to find her own path, and not cram her into a myopic, prurient trip like your parents did with you.

Daniel: "I would have no problem with my daughter attending a Daime ritual when she is a bit older, perhaps nine or ten, if we go down to Brazil together." Dude, why don't you take her to Disney World instead?

3.) From evidence you see live every day and in media, YES IT IS WRONG to fuck your buddy's girlfriend.

It Is Wrong for the moderne homo-sapien to have sex with people he does not intend to honor in the future with his future. The outcome is almost always negative for fucker or fuckee, it does NOT advance what is fine in Humankind, and it wastes time we cannot spare in this endgame of our species' disintegration.

And no, monogamy is not 'natural' to the human animal. That's my point.

We must, by will, override our Animal at this carrefour in time like we did back when with shitting outdoors. It wasn't 'natural' for us to poop inside a building but we knew that was part of growing a civilization as we, ourselves, defined it. We made the collective decision to defecate in private and, with that, moved Humanity forward

Looking to the sky, earth, 'shamans,' gods, 'spirit guides', totems, 'ancient wisdom' or drugs for SIGNS to indicate direction for every fucking move is ARCHAIC thinking. We must leave that way back in Animal and step up.

We, Humanity, have evolved to an amazing point. We can now make substantial Darwinian decisions ourselves, consciously, as evolving human beings, for the Higher Good.

Or not.

We say we don't want our Beast to win but REALITY CHECK - it's winning. It's winning in you, Daniel, with your bullshit loft partie$, $eminars, celeb courting, self-lauding, media whoring, eliteist behavior, promiscuity, fame/money driven views, exploitation$ of '2012' based on the few Mayan codices that survived... ignoring their possible invalidation by the many that did not.

Humans are ape-adjacent, so INCREDIBLY far from a wave. We're simple life forms still, mold in a petri dish. It's LUDICROUS for us to pimp walk around like we da Big Brains, da shizz - SEZ WHO?

Clearly, there is Other out there. Clearly we cannot understand it, agree what it is, or interpret it beyond the confines of our obvious limits.

Howzabout we bag the crap and go to work on building Human harmony on this Earth which we - including you, Daniel - are trashing, insuring the death or living hell of our descendants?

Which brings me to...

4.) When someone asks legitimate questions that challenge your views, Daniel, IT IS WRONG to throw them off of your website. Especially if you bill yourself as an open souled and minded 'Sacred Warrior' questing for truth.

*

My questions started with a whisper. Well, a 'whisper' for me. I mean it had a little cha-cha, yeah, I self-amused, but Reality Sandwich is boring as hell. Here it is:

AYAHUASCA IS THE NEW ABSINTHE! VISIONS ARE THE NEW BLACK!
Submitted by xanaduxero on Mon, 03/31/2008 - 14:28.

I'm old, like a gazillion in dog years, and I've heard The Newly Expanded's 'MO BETTA CONSCIOUS THAN THOU' Ayahuasca babblings for, like, two decades now. The Church of Diame (sp?) devotees, the South American "I lived with the Shamans" crowd, the "I went on a raft and met _______ who recognized I was a Special Whitey so he shared his ancient secrets and ______ with me" gaggle etc. What strikes me like a 2x4 of collapsed star-like dense matter is that NONE of these people, NONE (with the exception of mah man, good ol' Daniel P., who co-brewed this site, who I don't know)** have done JACK SHIT with their astounding expansions, JACK SHIT but verbally jack off at cool soirees, say "Namaste" a lot and try to get laid. WHAT GOOD IS CONSCIOUSNESS, EXPANSION, ENLIGHTENMENT, FAME, "GNOSIS" et al if it doesn't further humanity as a whole? It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing. You see jaguars? BIG FUCKING WHOOP. If you really have an edge here - APPLY IT. Selflessly and relentlessly. OR... you are just a 2.0 version of all that you claim to despise.**

Q: What was I even doing on Reality Sandwich if I think it's so frickin dull? A: Trying to kiss ass. (**Ass kiss Ex. 1.) Sigh. That never works for me.

I had submitted an article to Reality Sandwich (sounds like a three-way with ugly people), and they accepted it. I was thrilled because every hot guy on the SpriChill Global Downtown rave scene thinks that Pinch is the shit. Also, quite frankly, my inner Olivia Twist simpered, "Maybe THIS is my place... Maybe this kind of writing is what I was meant to do!"

I kept signing on to see if my piece was up yet, and while I was there, since I no doubt would become a regular contributor why not make my presence known? HA, to quote Stanley Kowalski.

I started responding to articles. Some were nice, and I praised them. Some were inane. It never occured to me that on an EXPAND YOUR MIND site run by visionaries with a mission to aid the ascention of Earth's sentient creatures, any point of view would be off limits. Plus, I'm no teenage tweaker. I'm a middle-aged mom.

Yet... my comments began disappearing. Comments like this about a piece on "Synchromysticism" with content like, "I was thinking of a parking space - and there it was!":

"OY FRICKIN' VEY Submitted by xanaduxero on Thu, 04/24/2008 - 23:28. The art of realizing meaningful coincidence in the seemingly mundane with mystical or esoteric significance." Oh, how chic-ly metaphysical. Makes me crave a Mapplethorpe retrospective with poi twirling and a merlot rated 90+. Sometimes, gods and goddesses, a cigar is just a cigar. Sometimes it's more, but trolling for magic in "mundane" circumstances is most often - pardon my synaptic bourgeoisity - cerebral chicken choking, vanity, a waste of time. Please, define 'art' here and, while you're at it, 'mystical' and 'esoteric'. Like 'hot' those words can mean a zillion things. Actually, scrap that. Explain instead why (writer's name) takes such Hollywood credit for musings that dock in most everyone's head from the age of six. And why they really matter when one can simply practice The Golden Rule and examine our own actions with a goal to improve.

That was termed "A PERSONAL ATTACK" and expunged by the Pinchbeckistan musketeers.

HUH?

So I pursued, dogging them about their censorship, hypocrisy and the fact they were behaving like the Christian Right with cooler dogmas and hotter outfits.

Here's another post, not even my words - direct from Wikepedia:

AH, CHILDREN, ITS JUST A KISS AWAY...
Submitted by xanaduxero (not verified) on Tue, 07/08/2008 - 21:38.

"The Thought Police (thinkpol in Newspeak) are the secret police of Oceania in George Orwell's dystopian novel Nineteen Eighty-Four.

It is the job of the Thought Police to uncover and punish thoughtcrime and thought-criminals, using psychology and omnipresent surveillance from telescreens to find and eliminate members of society who were capable of the mere thought of challenging ruling authority.

The government attempts to control not only the speech and actions, but also the thoughts of its subjects, labeling unapproved thoughts with the term thoughtcrime, or, in Newspeak, crimethink.

It also had much to do with Orwell's own "power of facing unpleasant facts", as he called it, and his willingness to criticize prevailing ideas which brought him into conflict with others and their "smelly little orthodoxies".

The term "Thought Police", by extension, has come to refer to real or perceived enforcement of ideological correctness.

- Wikipedia

Its so easy to be all you claim to despise.

They canned it. It disappeared.

Comment after comment CENSORED. I wrote Daniel e mails, many, asking why. What I got back was silence, but for a cyber smirk in the form of of Nurse Ratched's - pardon, Sacred Lackey Jonathan 'Shy-Of-XY' Phillips' - recurring regurgitation of comment "rules."

I then inquired why a comment trouncing me for my thoughts wasn't censored too, if crowd control was so strict.

At last, Sacred J. reared back and POUNCED:

Hi Xanadu, I've removed the comment you tagged below as it was indeed a personal attack. However, I wanted to inform you that after sending you the comments guidelines a number of times and reminding you of the comments policy of the site, you've continued to make personal attacks against members of the community. We have received many, many complaints from RS participants from these attacks** and since you've continually refused to follow the guidelines of the site, we have decided to delete your account. It seems apparent that your interests are different than those of this site and I'm sure there's many other places on the web you can turn to for news, discussion and information that's a better fit for you. I wish you the best in your future journeys. Sincerely, Jonathan

(** Yeah, right.)

I wrote back:

"You are not god, how can you know my "interests"? Your interests, may I surmise then? Sex with girls you can't get with looks or charm, power and money. Fuck you, Jonathan and your Sacred Bullshit persona. Enjoy the knowledge that your ass licking skills have just netted you this sorry gig brown nosing a fraud."

*

I am THRILLED to announce to you, dear readers, that THIS... IS NOT THE GOOD PART OF THE STORY.

The good part of the story comes NEXT... when I re-joined the mostly All White All Male Reality Sandwich az Ghetto Sista LaVondelle.

*

TO BE CONTINUED...

Q: What's a paradigm?
A: Twenty cents.


**************