Better Satanists than muslims

Some nowhere town in Minnesota is allowing a Satanic monument in a veteran’s cemetery, probably the most exciting thing to happen there since cheese.

Remember the kid who ate Elmer’s glue for attention in kindergarten?  A Satanist is him all-growed-up:  harmless characters who are by and large atheists.

The most offensive thing about this story is the designation of a “free speech zone”.

This is the free speech zone:

 

I would rather have a Satanic monument in any cemetery than muslim relics.

Who’s worse for society? Child-raping goat-fucking terrorists or people wearing black eyeliner?

 

 

It’s Too Late

I have no fans, and that’s fine with me. Much has happened since I last picked up the keyboard for more regularly blogged bullshit. As filmed, the story would be minor happy events in an overall tragedy as opposed to some bloodless low points in a comedy. Sounds about right for almost everyone.

I’m slowly dying of some rare blood disease that damages only the kidneys. Really, I wish my kidneys would fail already. I would quietly collect SSD and get dialysis 3 times a week if it meant not having to ever work again, facing the ugliness of the human race every fucking day.

There are still a few good things left in life:  Oreos, cannabis, taking a shit, internets, reading history, jacking off. There are even hookers that will come to your door!

Contrary to what salesfolk are forever claiming, there is a time when nothing you do or try or buy will save your sorry ass. That time is called “It’s Too Late” and for me, it’s already here. I never try to tally up the reasons I have to live another day, there really aren’t any. I’ve abandoned this life…the mp3 player is still counting the song from both ends but the music stopped long ago.

I told the Guru I HATE God, but I told him in an email.  No response.  That was years ago.  When he does answer it’s usually with, “Have you tried meditating?”  He’s not being a smartass.  God is.

Sadly, there is no Satan to worship. Don’t matter who you cry out to; no god—good or evil—returns messages.

I want to get black t-shirts made with IT’S TOO LATE right across the chest in bright yellow. More than any demon, those words frighten people, with truth.

On many days I simply don’t give a shit

Been wandering the web aimlessly lately. I don’t want to get into it now except to say for every murderous muslim cocksucker there appears to be a gang of apologists and appeasers to justify–there’s no more apt word–to JUSTIFY the evil of the death-cult killers. These fools could just have easily ended up in the crosshairs as the next infidel, and yet here they are, defending the shitbirds.

You can be the most vile piece of shit and commit heinous acts, but those deemed insensitive or politically incorrect are treated even more harshly.

It’s a terrible world.

For no particular reason I watched the 12-part youtube docu about mafia killer-for-hire Richard Kuklinski, “The Iceman”, an equal-opportunity murderer. It was not uplifting. Then I watched a docu about Richard Ramirez, The “Night Stalker”, a craven piece of shit the fucking cops whisked away from mob justice. I’ve been an atheist (and now a tepid monotheist) but with these horrible serial killer bastards running around I understand why anyone would doubt the existence of any god, at least a caring one.

My own life is in the shitter. Not really, but it is. Too much shit left untied, unsaid, while other shit is done sloppily. The past weighs like an anvil on my scrotum. I just hate people and can’t seem to shake the feeling that I’m right. I can’t even get the fucking lesbian at work to come eat tacos (ha ha) with me. And no, I don’t want to fuck her, that’s why I can talk to her.

I don’t know if there is such a thing, but there appears to be a dread balance to the world. Things steadily improve but the horrors that counterweigh the good grow heavier and heavier. Smallpox is eradicated, here comes the AIDS. A dictator dies and he’s got 8 bastard sons to take his place. On the rare occasions Good triumphs it’s quickly buried and forgotten so that the next round of fools must needlessly live the same nightmares. I’m so very fucking annoyed with this planet. And there’s work tomorrow, I won’t have another day off till Monday. Work is hell, all work is, but being out of a job is worse (except for the first 20 minutes of waking up).

On many days I simply don’t give a shit. And by “days” I mean “years”.

JERKING OFF IS LIKE A BREAKFAST BAR

Dropped a small amount of shrooms–stems only–no caps. I chanted over the dried bits and pieces which look like twigs and I chanted while beginning the trip which turned out to be a dud. My pupils did not dilate, I had no hallucinations. I jerked it, then took a shower (always a brilliant idea, dropping mind-altering substances and then standing on a wet, slippery surface).

I’m sorry this post will go nowhere, but NOTHING happened except I got a small burst of energy and the title for this post: JERKING OFF IS LIKE A BREAKFAST BAR. Because it doesn’t have to be breakfast time to enjoy one. Oh no, you can jerk off evenings, Tuesdays, one minute past high noon and in the fountain at the mall, as long as you can outrace Security with your pants around your anks.

The shrooms did not enhance the onanistic experience. Perhaps my dreams will rock…

Before all of this shroom business I surfed the internet for the phrase, “Accept there is no justice”. The reason no one accepts this obvious truth is their ego is in the way. No one likes to be shat upon and revenge is very close in the hearts of humans, like a rifle hidden just inside the jamb of the front door.

Earlier today I explained to a Buddhist woman that I believe there is a God, as in an intelligent, conscious energy with thoughts of its own. She disagreed, using the sentiment that, “We are God,” not in a blasphemous way but in the sense We are the Perceivers. I have no beef with that, I was more annoyed she doesn’t smoke dope anymore. Ironically or not, historically-speaking, the best-functioning religion that’s caused the least harm appears to be Buddhism, an atheistic religion.

I didn’t mention today was the 4th of July right away because I’m not feeling it. With a respectful nod to American soldiers who gave their sanity, limbs and lives, I have no independence of my own, all my so-called personal freedom is mixed with severe punishment. After all, one is free to quit one’s hated job and starve on the street. One is free to choose drugs and then be warehoused in nigger college, aka prison. One is free to write the words “nigger college” and then have the hyenas and jackals scream for one’s politically-incorrect head. One is free to jump off a tall building, only to discover one’s freedom to fly ends as gravity begins.

I just ran to the bathroom to check my pupils. If they were ever abnormally large they’re back to normal now. It’s one hour into July 5th, everything is back to normal, we can forget freedom and sacrifice for another year.

Struggling for second place

“I have found God, and he is insufficient.” -Henry Miller

Henry, I feel the same way. Earth is just a giant waiting room and I’d feel better as a ball of energy than a meatsack human being. This body is nothing but trouble, a festering cesspool for the ego to roll around in.

The mind is a crumpled paper airplane in a hurricane, but the ego thinks it’s a fighter jet.  The capacity for self-delusion is bottomless.  The mind is its own worst enemy; why it throws fear at itself I understand, it’s a survival mechanism. But why does the mind attack itself with doubt?

Life was brutal for the caveman but far simpler: at any given moment he was either alive and afraid or unaware and eaten. Attempts at poetry or deep thought were ended by saber-toothed tigers.  Now there’s nothing to stop bad poetry.

Sorry God, but I’m ready to go back. I won’t learn anything else here, life is all reruns now. I’m too lazy to meditate, I’d rather sleep.

I’m having trouble remembering why I didn’t commit to suicide when I was an atheist.  If it was all meaningless, why didn’t I end it?  The Satanist proclaims pleasure the greatest virtue.  I couldn’t extract pleasure out of anything except being an observer and surfing over others’ hypocrisy.  Obviously I survived.  But lived?

I was alone then, before then, and now.

My pal Hal swears if he won the lottery he’d build an underground house and never leave it.  Everything would be ordered and brought to his door.  I don’t blame him.  “Hell is other people,” is the greatest line ever written.  Everyone else with a pen or keyboard only struggles for second place while the moon shits cold fire and the women sleep with other men.