October 2005

Original article posted by bluesman:

Crash was a punker of the first magnitude. He was one of those latchkey kids that came out of the British depression. One of those dirt poor, roving Manchester castaways that had no use for school or work, ’cause neither one was going to give him what he wanted: the Power. This is what Crash thought about, all through the smoggy, dismal days, wandering through the backalleys, kicking at cans, arguing with the constables, stealing food from the depressingly bare food shoppes, getting in fist fights in Eardley’s House of Records. He thought about the Power–he thought about holding, cradling, wielding the Power, until the neon pink spikes on his shaved head burned with the intensity of 30 million punk-lit candles. He brooded on the Power until his creaking leather jacket smoked and the spiked collar around his neck sparked with outrage. He lusted after the Power, his face pulling in tighter and tighter, his visage a bitter mask of contempt stretched over a skull filled with hate. It was in these moments of blinding lucidity that Crash fancied he could, if he had had the Power, stretch forth his hand, blast the entire bloody mess into the ocean, where he would later walk through the leveled landscape in terrible majesty, bringing up a heaven or a hell on earth as he saw fit. As he sat in the dismal gloom of his dirty flat, the pitiful sobs of his drunken mother echoing off the grimy walls, mixing with the blasting, tinny wail of his record player, human misery and detuned guitars meshing in a cacophany of naked despair, Crash decided he would reach out and seize the Power. Crash had a gun, the old Webley revolver that was kept up in a sagging shoe box, put there by his mother, the ghost, after her husband had used the weapon to blow his head off, a man finally overcome, a man visited nightly by bloody war companions who urged him to keep up the good fight, lad, standing around him in their ghastly pallor, with eyes like hard, black glass. Crash took the gun, stuffing it into the front of his trousers, oblivious of the rust on the barrel, storming out of the apartment past the spreading misery of his mother, out the flimsy door and into the cramped, gargoyle streets. The pistol, a burning heat in his crotch, a fire in his belly, nuclear dragons tearing at the inside of his skull as he stalks, shoulders cramped and teeth grinding, towards Lord Chancey de Vonney’s manor, which sits across that invisible membrane which separates Crash’s world, the world of Churchill, the world of smoking factories, blackened coal miners, prostitutes, and His Lordship’s; afternoon tea in Grandmama’s best China, obsequious butlers, high laughter and pounds, pounds evergrowing, fattening the Realm’s great money houses. Crash walked right up to the gates, sensing the Power just inside the stately house, leisurely, fat, magnanimous in victory. Crash waited, in the drizzle of a Manchester morning, the rusty revolver, with its now useless ammunition, like yellow teeth in the head of a vagrant, rubbing achiingly against Crash’s palm. Crash waited, the Power emerged, the explosion and noise of a backfire devour him, destroying his purpose along with his face.

And somewhere, another punker starts to feel a hum in his guts, starts to think about Power.

Original article posted by Asmodeus:

I am going to talk about something different this time, something I have been thinking about lately cause of a certain person. I wont give her name in this one cause I want people to see this for sure, maybe most of you should! Most of you will think you know who she is, but take that from your head for a moment, and pretend you dont know who gave me the idea.

what brought this thought to me was her telling me that I am not good enough for her because how I treat women and that I am selfish because I expect certain things for myself, but I would say to her and all of you out there that are sexualy active that I am not selfish but she is and so are you.

How many of you that are active go to get tested for H.I.V? I bet non of you do, perhaps you think ah well I know the person I am with well why should I go get tested only people that sleep around contract the H.I.V virus. Well you are wrong, very wrong not only does your life depend on it but so does mine.

I have been with two women so far in my lifetime, I am not currently active, but when I am I do have myself tested every so often, because even though I dont think these women have it, it would be selfish for me not to be tested because not only does my life count on the results but everybody I am with is affected and those who I might be with again.

Before you tell me I am selfish, look at yourselves people. I do certain sexual things and I am very open about my sexuality maybe this girl is threatened by that, but I know she does not test herself. I do things that most people dont think are appropriate but at least I am safe about it, its more than just wearing protection.

How can you tell me to abstain if you yourself can not abstain? I dont blame you for not being able to, a lot of people can not, however you should think about other people and make sure you are clean.

that is all i have to say about that, so next time you decide to call someone a whore or tell them they are dirty take a good look at yourself and ask, have I been testing myself? If the answer is no than it is you who is dirty and maybe you should take the time instead of calling people names, go and get yourself tested.

Original article posted by ravenpaine:

Entry 84 – October 31, 2005

There are certain days when I tell myself not to overthink everything, to go witht he flow and start to live in the moment and get into the rhythm of the dance of life. There are other days when I tell myself that the thing I most want to do is the definatively wrong thing to do. There are days where I know what I should do and why I should do it and I do nothing of the sort. There are days where I make the most exacting decisions on pure impulse and find that I can suceed at tasks that daunt teams of experts. There are days…

Hubris happens.

Somedays you are so much more full of yourself than you actually have a reason to be. There are days where you should have more confidence in you and the group of people you have recruited through life to assist you. There are days where you will betray the trust of everyone one of those people because you are ultimately flawed.

I claim to be a fatalist. I claim to adhere to a creed of come what may you cannot control what will happen to you in life you can only do what you are going to do about it. But most days I find myself slipping into the incredulous hole of “everything happens for a reason.” All actions are deliberate, all moments occur because they will occur everything that will ever happen is going to happen because that is what will happen.

I’m uncomfortable with any predeterminism theory that isn’t used to seduce a british woman.

The most appaling actions of my life are all things in which I have… and I do regrett using this term… a lack of agency.

Damn it all, no. I had a lack of will. I was in the situations and I did not do waht I should have. I did not do what i should not have. I did not DO anything. I walked into these events and just went on autopilot, letting anyone and anything make my decisions for me but me. And I have paid for each of these moments to a degree that is nearly unfathomable. I try to blame myself for the misery and ruin in my life, in fact I punish myself daily for things I did so long ago I cannot remember the color of the carpet in which the event occured. And yes, I was there, I did do these things… but again I didn’t really DO anything. I did nothing and now I’m punishing myself for it. I allowed the bysstander effect to be perpetrated in my own life.

I keep thinking about all of the things that I’ve done in life and I keep comparing them to the way I currently live and I have found that back in the day I was always doing something. Now, however, I may be lucky to do ONE thing a month that I care to repeat to anyone, and even those things I’m likely not to remember because they are so awash in sea of apathy as to lose all color and flavor.

Unfortunately these insights do not, on their own, change my life. If antything I must take this as the start of what I’m actually supposed to be doing.

Doing is what I’m supposed to be doing. Not sitting. Not thinking. Not acting out. Not worrying or wallowing. Doing.

And this here? This writing thing and the reading thing that inspired me to do it? Those are the things I’m supposed to be doing the most. They are the things that I really DO that no one else can do. This is what I’m here to do.

No funny ending, stay tuned.

Rodney TGAP
Bonne nuit, bonne nuit to you all.

Orginal comments:

Nickname: Cornelius
Re: Someday…
I know you probably don’t want to hear it, but I’ve got to say it anyway. Living the Gospel is the only way to be truly happy. My life has taken a dramatic turn-around in the last few years. It’ll work for you too, if you’ll let it. God loves you and so do I.

Nickname: ravenpaine
Re: Someday…
I believe you, really, I do… It’s just that I’ve got this thing against Micheal and Peter… and I keep thinking that they’re in charge….

Nickname: Asmodeus
Re: Someday…
God Has foresaken us he put us on this hell we call earth, tells us to love, yet he put’s all sorts of rules on us, telling us how we should love. No, I hate God, and I hate the Christ and I hate most men and christians. The christ died in vain for me.

Original article posted by Asmodeus:

First I must explain what I call Anima, these are hatefull spirits, that have lost their way in the plane of darkness I described earlier, note that these beings are in fact metempsychotic and have the ability to take control of the living. I will be an Anima if I do not change my ways, and I have been playing with changing. the Anima linger on this plane and the next they can manifest themselves in many ways. Lost in the darkness they resent what they are the hate they carried here becomes the hate of the afterlife altering them and turning them into vicious hatefull spirits.

Lord Tyr is in fact a beast sewn from these spirits, the pillar of the dead as I explain to those who hear my beliefe (mostly friends I dont talk about it much, except for certain people) When the time comes the day most religions call the era of the Antichrist many beasts will be freed from their chains Lord Tyr is one of those creatures who will roam freely feeding on life as it desires.

The Antichrist (Until we know who he is and his name on this exhistence I will refer to him as Antichrist) will have many supernatural powers, those who partake those powers (by healing and such just like the true christ) will wear the seal and become apart of Lord Tyr, those who decline of course die and maybe get to go to heaven, but I am sure just because they say no to the Antichrist does not mean certainy into heaven.

Lord Tyr will raise the dead (Unnaturaly) and poison our land for it hates our world and it hates us.

Original article posted by squishous:

I have a favorite uncle that completely disagrees with me on about everything. I am fairly conservative and more than a little religious; and he is a pro-drug homosexual that finds his religion after a successful ‘shroom gathering jaunt to Mountain Meadows. But, this has not stopped us from forming a real bond of love and friendship. He and I had a conversation where we discussed the differences in our generations, particularly the differences in our respective youth cultures. He is a throw-back from the seventies. He began college – oddly enough – at BYU. He stayed there all of an entire semester and then followed – oddly enough – a girl to San Francisco where he gave up his church, most of his parents’ ideas, the trombone, and women.

When he was in college he recalls it actually being about learning instead of memorizing facts and formulae that may stay with us, but probably won’t.

Our education system was once a proud example for the world to follow. Students were taught to question and discover answers on our own. This allowed the student to really grasp an idea and apply it to themselves. Then – in the seventies – youth culture really began to stretch the boundaries of propriety, and they did it in a search for understanding. I guess this scared the crap out of someone because now instead of giving us real intelligence our educational system has morphed into a machine that rewards obedience over knowledge and understanding. Have noticed that the best students are not usually the most intelligent? How many of us have prepared for next semester by asking students who have already taken the course? I guarantee that the most common response to these inquiries have been about how to please a teacher, and very little o do with the content of the class. I know it has been said before, but I have to add my voice to the growing din. If we do not change the focus of our educational system we will continue to slide down the chute of intelligence until we will stand alone at the bottom wondering what went wrong and not having the true intelligence to discover a way back up.

PS. I know it has been a while, so again to all I say hello.

Orginal comments:

Nickname: Asmodeus
Re: How many cheerleaders CAN we fit into a phone booth?
Yeah we are going down hill fast, most of the pseudo intellectuals in here are proof of what is going to happen to our world, every body has something to say but does anybody ever do anything sbout it?

Most people just stand there and say how horrable something is but they never try to change it, they just have an opinion about it.

Nickname: Cornelius
Re: How many cheerleaders CAN we fit into a phone booth?
And people wonder why I never finished school and decided to join the Army instead. They asked me if I had any plans to do anything with my life. To that I said, “You’re darn right I do. In fact, I already have. What have you done with yours?” I count the years I spent in college to be the most rewarding and experience-filled time of my life. This has very little to do with going to school, however. I learned who I was, what I wanted to become, and what I wanted from life over the last five years. These experiences made me who I am and at the end of it all, I have a 0.9 GPA and thirty-some credits to my name. If I have failed to use my time well, you decide.

Nickname: Cornelius
Re: How many cheerleaders CAN we fit into a phone booth?
P.S. What up, Squishious?

Original article posted by Greg:

Yesterday morning a couple of calls came unexpectedly. The result, therefore is that my companion, elder Blake, is now in SheZi (my old area) with his new companion, I’m released from being DL, and I’m currently with elder Fullmer till friday when we pick up our trainees in taipei.

I guess they decided that movecalls just couldn’t wait. To which I have to say, “Well, whatever, dude.”

I am only slightly nervous about training. The only thing I’m worried about is that I’ll get somebody as full of pride as I was when I just came on island.

I think that can be avoided by frequent midnight beatings.

There have been a couple of items of interest and/or note that I neglected to mention in previous weeks. Neither are happy, but I find them interesting like sad things often are…

There’s a 45 year old man who got baptized a few weeks back. He’s really great. He loves the outdoors, and loves the gospel, and just loves life. He’s always smiling. He spent a few years as a monk somewhere in the asian jungles ending about 4 years ago. He related a story about why he’s not married or dating. One day they took him and put him in a room with the corpse of some woman, long mummified. They said, “You can’t leave this room until your spirit is broken.” After about 3 days he started crying. The head monk came in and said “Every time you have a lustful thought towards a woman, you remember this.”

People are strange. I have absolutely no ability to relate to that experience.

I met a sister hsu here about 10 months ago. She’s a great young missionary who I really respect and admire. She was converted through the teaching of a lady whose husband I baptized a few months ago. So we’ve all been happy to see a bit of connection between us.

A month or so ago she fell down and hit her head pretty hard, but didn’t want to complain or anything, so she just kept working even though she had a headache for a few days.

At zone conference a couple weeks ago we were all singing when she fell to the floor and started having seizures.

Last week I saw her again, as they pulled up in a van with her luggage and bicycle. She stepped out of the van and smiled at me. I said hello and asked how she was doing, how was the work. Then she said pretty good and collapsed. I helped carry her upstairs where she waited to be sent home to see the doctors.

She said there’s no better work than this. She doesn’t want to go.

She insisted she would be just fine, and they had tried letting her work on a limited basis after getting approval from some doctors, But nobody knows what’s wrong. And the seizures are more and more frequent.

Well, There’s my two not uplifting stories. But they’ve stuck in me and add in some way to the conglomerate self. I think that hearing or seeing things like this help you define yourself a little bit more. Because you can’t hear something like this and not in some way decide your own point of view about it. I am amazed at how varied the answers could be to questions like “Why would God let His missionaries get hurt like that?” and “Is it a positive change that happens in a person after being locked in a room like that?” The circumstance is fact. The response is what is interesting. And is what divides and defines us.

Anyway, I am done with that.

I haven’t much to say that is funny or of interest. I remain in Zhong Li to contemplate all things and also do missionary work occasionally as weather permits.

Going to the dentist now,

Orginal comments:

Nickname: Gunny
Re: dirt cake with chocolate frosting
In speaking about our answers to questions of God’s motives in allowing injury to good people and advantage to bad, I would not presume to be illuminated sufficiently to speak for him. However, to attempt an answer, I like to think that God tries to be impartial when it comes to allowing misfortune.

A tad oversimplified, perhaps, but one can gain a fuller grasp of my opinion once supplemented with the doctrine of free will. Free will is vital to the learning process of mortality, that being allowed to choose, mortals may choose eternal life by doing the things that Christ did, which he also saw the Father do (John 5:19). He allows mortals to choose their own path without immediate repercussion, excepting the natural consequence of the action. If immediate divine action followed every right or wrong action, man would become programmed and would be constrained to choose eternal life, which would not be free will. The same principle applies to constant divine protection of The Lord’s people and property. If this constant rescue from any mishap was a reality, the same sort of programming would take place because imperviousness to injury would be an instant effect of uniting with the people of God. The probationary state is such that any divine tampering, such as favoritism, could circumvent the law of justice and “God would cease to be God” (Alma 42.13). God Almighty does not take his role in the plan lightly and thus must submit himself to his laws and his word.

Therefore, God tries to be impartial when allowing mishap and good fortune; he “maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust” (Matt 5:45). This is not to say that God is not a God of miracles, but it is to say that miracles are the exception to policy, rather than the rule. This is also not to say that God is the impersonal, absentee ruler, championed by the enlightenment. Even though he allows his servants to suffer bodily harm, he also sends them his spirit to comfort them in their trials. The Lord can thus guarantee the preservation of free will and express his personal care for each one his children.

I’m sure that none of this would bring comfort to the sister missionary who might not be able to serve the rest of her mission, but it helps me to suppose an understanding of the world around me. I imagine that this little divinity lecture defines me as somebody who needs to explain the world.

Enjoy the Dentist.


Original article posted by bluesman:

Joshua had one round left in his pistol. One round between a new life in Rincon or vultures picking at his bones.

But there were still two men out there in the darkness.

Tom Hagar had jumped out at him from behind a clump of creosote bushes with a knife in his hand, and gotten one in the right cheek from Joshua’s ragged Forty-Five. Joshua had a hard time turning the heavy body over, and found nothing on old Tom that would serve: a snuff box with a few pesos rattling around inside, some tobacco in a smelly leather pouch, a few rolling papers. He saw the dog eared deck of cards that they all used to pass the time while waiting for the Wells Fargo diligence, creaking under the strain of sturdy lock boxes, to pass through. Now, Tom Hagar was lying face down in the dirt, the back of his head an open, bloody mess. Joshua took what he needed and then rode south through the junipers.

* * * *

Harlan Gates looked up from his saddle bags as he heard the crack of a pistol shot echo down the canyon. That would be Old Tom, he knew. Tom was stupid and a bully, which was just fine with Harlan—he would be the next to take a bullet from Joshua’s deadly hand. Old Tom had stood there, silent, kicking at the dirt when Harlan told him to wait by the canyon entrance for Joshua: he knew it was a death sentence. But Harlan knew Tom would rather take on Joshua and maybe have surprise on his side than be gunned down by Harlan in front of the other men. So he left. Now, Harlan was down another man, but Joshua was down another round. It was simple mathematics. That was why Harlan sent Rob Cherry to sneak up on Joshua last night after everyone had bedded down for the night, why he told Sam Spade to lurk in the San Pete Hollow.

Jake Combs he shot in The Flats.

George Juarez while he was taking a piss.

Alistair Finnes on the Tristeza Trail.

Eleven men in all, so far. Joshua had stalked them all this way, picking at them where he could, but beating a hasty retreat when the others came running. But Harlan Gates wasn’t worried; he had stolen Joshua’s ammo belt two nights ago, rummaged through his clothing and bags while Joshua was taking a bath at Nancy Crier’s place. He wasn’t worried because he knew what Joshua knew:

Harlan had one more man than Joshua had bullets.

* * * *

Flint Egan was stumbling over the stones, slowly stalking the south canyon wall. Harlan had told him to find cover on one of the rocky promontories that overlooked the canyon, oiling his rifle as he did so.

“You get up there and lay real still, and when that sonovabitch comes struttin’ from the east side, you wait till he’s past ya and then blow him to hell. I’ll cover ya from the north side.”

So Flint, picking up his gear, forced himself to leave the small camp, glaring at the others until he reached his horse. When he was out of sight of Harlan, he let out a sob. He knew who Joshua would get first.
The footing became more treacherous as he ascended and Flint was forced to crawl on our fours as he made his way to the nearest outcropping of rocks. Then he froze—the sound of a horse’s gallop from a ways down the canyon stopped him, filled him with dread. Hugging the ground, sweating in fear, he turned his head ever so slowly to the left.
There, not a hundred yards distant, was Joshua, leaning heavily over his saddle. Flint felt a shock of hope, like cold water in his chest, and pulled his weapon free. The figure on the horse was clearly hurting, bobbing up and down against the horse’s neck, his face turned down. Flint wiped his brow, steadied his rifle on a nearby boulder. Flint waited until Joshua passed by. He fired. Joshua fell from the saddle into a heap on the sandy canyon floor. Trembling, Flint stood, made his way down to where the body lay. Flint’s hands were shaking badly as he approached the form. He let his rifle drop.

The body was a scarecrow—Joshua’s clothing stuffed with brush and branches; a rope was around the neck.

Flint Egan never even felt the round pass through his skull.

* * * *

Harlan watched as Flint’s body crumpled into the ground. He saw Joshua emerge from behind a bush, holding the other end of the scarecrow’s rope. He waited until Joshua ran for Flint’s rifle. Just as Joshua reached down, Harlan jumped out. Joshua whirled about, pulling free his Forty-Five. The speed of his turn made Harlan’s guts turn to water. Then he remembered:

Joshua was out.

Harlan raised his rifle higher, a bitter sneer on his face.

“It’s useless, Josh, you sonovabitch; we both know yer empty. You’re good, all right, best I ever seen. But nobody steals from my gang. You know that. Now, I’m gonna be merciful to ya, cause we got a history, you and me, and I’m willin’ to show a little compassion. You can choose whether you see it comin’ or not.”

Josh stood there, silent. Harlan waited, as he had waited for this moment for two days.


Josh pulled out his pocketwatch, looked at it.

“Are you ready Harlan?”

Harlan screamed:


The report of the weapon was loud. Harlan looked down in dumb amazement at the blood spreading from his chest. He sank to his knees, his life’s blood pumping out in rhythmic time.

“How…how did…”

Joshua held up the watch.

“You gave this to me, Harlan. You said it was a ‘damn sneaky place for hidin’ something’. I’ve always kept a round in it since.”

Harlan looked at Joshua with murder in his eyes, then fell flat.

Joshua stood a moment longer, then gathered his belongings from behind the bush. The morning was breaking and he had a few days yet before he hit Rincon. Mounting his horse, he kicked his heels, and Barley answered with a burst of speed.

Orginal comments:

Nickname: Asmodeus
Re: A Game of Numbers
You know I have not, hmm I aught to play with a western I am good with conflict.

Original article posted by Asmodeus:

Here is a story I have for many of you, a view of death, something I have had the chance to experience and created what I deam religion.

Years ago before Kellie even knew me I hated my life so much that I decided to end it one night in the season of spring. very few people know about it. Here is what I saw.

When it happened I passed in and out of consciousness, a different body seperated from my own flesh body but it was still connected if you can understand that, I did not hear the voice of god call out to me, in fact it was dark and quiet. The other plane looked exactly like the world you live in with the fleshy body you occupy however it was desolate and dying there was no sun just plain darkness nothing else.

As I looked around there stood three faceless beings waiting for me, for which I had no idea where they came from, these beings currently occupy my body, I will explain them later.

Death to me personaly is a flash of pain and than only darkness, the way I see it, or theorize is maybe there is what one could call heaven but of course I will not be going there. I think when one dies we are all inside that darkness and those who are worthy only can find there way to heaven.

Look at it this way someone instantly sticks you in a dark room pitch dark no light at all, those who are like me will follow around in the darkness seeking to get out but there is no way out because the door is closed, the more worthy you are the wider the door will be open and the light will peer through so that you can find your way you people will see the light and get out of the darkness, the rest of us will be locked away from God and will become different what I call Anima but we will get onto that one later.

Where it gets hazy is what happened between the beings and me waking up or how I came too, but that is my take on death, I wish I could see the light but that will never happen.

Orginal comments:

Nickname: gandhi2
Call to action
My comment isn’t really for this Jason guy, but rather for everybody else who continues a ridiculous interaction with him.

First off, I wanted to say that I value opposition rather strongly in any sort of debate. It lends some credibility to those people who are intelligent and posess well-organized arguments. It helps strengthen a person’s ideals(or at least it should), and see things from another perspective. The fact that I disagree with this guy is little grounds for why I’m saying what I’m saying here. In a society which values free press, a person is entitled to loudly voice there opinions. Unless of course, that opinion is a threat to life, libery, and property of others.

This person, Jason, has loudly and repeatedly threaten more than one member of this site. He has made personal threats to Ryan and Kelly. Nevermind the fact that their are several instances of harassment, this person has threatened people’s lives, and that manner of action should not be allowed. In a free-press society, you can shout how much you hate Jews all you want, but if you say in print that you will kill all Jews, I can guarantee the officers will be knocking on your door. It is the responsibility of the administrators of this site to maintain an environment where people can exchange ideas freely, and to deal with people who can’t play by the rules. I’ve already voiced my opinion to some, but I wanted to announce to the other members, administrators, and the guilty party himself, that I think the correct course of actions is to suspend the privilege of postings to those members who can’t play by the rules(which, in the case of this site, actually allows for quite alot to be said and still be ok).

I can’t speak for the parties on the receiving end of the harassment, but I will give you this advice. You have a responsibility for your own personal safety, and if somebody has made a threat to it, you have a responsibility to take physical, verbal, or legal action to defend yourself.

Nickname: Madman
Re: Call to action
Very well said, Gandhi2. I agree completely.

And Asmodeus, I found this calm explanation and insight into your beliefs a lot more palatable than the rantings and ravings you have insisted on thrusting upon us. I still don’t agree with your beliefs, but they are yours.

Nickname: ravenpaine
Re: Call to action
If this were to be inacted then I would have to remove Myself and you and Cornellius and Asmodeus and a few other people because we are guilty of threatening someone at somepoint. Regardless of how personal those threats may or may not have been.

Also, Gandhi, if you want to throw people off of a website then go get your own. Don’t tell me how to live my lilfe. Last time I checked I didn’t really like any advice you have ever given anyone.

Furthermore I appreciate your opinion and am happy to not ban this, or other posts you have made simply because I need to flex some authoritarian muscle.

For a guy who doesn’t like government interfering in things you sure do reach for the telephone quickly when it seems that trouble may be a coming.

Just sayin is all.

Nickname: bluesman
Re: Pass through the gates of Flesh.
“Pass through the gates of Flesh”?

Sounds like a snuff film.

For fatties.

Nickname: Asmodeus
Re: Pass through the gates of Flesh.
You know it does kind of huh? you bastard I got all kinds of visuals from that statement (barf). You should not poke fun of fat people though, its not their fault, all the chemicals in our food and crap. I am thin, but I am at fault for some of those chemicals I smoke, loaded with chems.

As for the guy with “kill all jews” getting me thrown in jail, think again there are these one people, yeah they are called Nazi’s and I dont mean german world war II I mean this era, and guess what they publicly say “kill all jews” amongst other peoples, the only time they are thrown in jail or prison is when they actualy kill jews or other minorities.

Someone has been watching too much minority report.

Now that does not mean that I am not wrong, with Kellie (note the IE) I see her side but I too have my own side my own needs to her that is selfish, but she too is selfish and pridefull. Here are some of our differences she strives for life and all the things in it, I am ready for death I have accepted it, and it does not scare me to die I know what to expect.

She see’s writing as a form with rules and such, I see it as feelings bad or good I just write what I feel I think they call that free form. She believe’s in higher education, I too believe in the seeking of knowledge what makes us different is I don’t believe in college the reason is when I went last time it was not about how many A’s I had but how much money I had, and people always say what about the pell grant, but you who do go know that they dont give you a lot and usualy it will pay for the classes but what about books, than of course you have to live and work its just too much to me. So I seek my knowledge a different way.

How this all began was well screw i am not going to explain myself I dont need to explain myself I said too much. Well that is all then

Nickname: Cornelius
Re: Pass through the gates of Flesh.
Interresting experience. One of my Drill Sergeants told me once that you control your own destiny. As for going to heaven, you could, if you so chose, become the sort of person who is worthy to be there. That is entirely dependent on you.

You wanted to know what I do and if I’ve been to Babylon. I haven’t been. I’m west of there by some distance. I’m in Field Artillery.

As for your options of having a dialogue and going to war, there is another option. You could choose to leave her alone. Just a thought.

I actually haven’t talked to Kellie (thanks for the spelling correction) in some time. Probably a year at least. I just stick up for her because I stick up for a lot of people who get picked on. I suppose its possible that she’s done something to deserve your hatred, but I’ve not heard the whole story, so I don’t know.

Remember that you can choose to be nice despite the provocation to do otherwise. I suspect that as your avowed purpose is to usher in the reign of the Anti-Christ, you won’t do that. I do hope that you will change your mind.

Nickname: Asmodeus
Re: Pass through the gates of Flesh.
I just want to say I dont hate her, anything but, she does kind of deserve it and than again I wish we could just get along. Being nice to her wont work it never does. It is my fault I am man enough to admitt that. By the way Kellie if you do see this, you are Picard I did that thing and I am Aragorn, who would think huh?

I would like to figure out how to get along with her, she thinks it is just going to happen over night, I cant face those demons that easily and I cant do it alone. I honestly do not know how I am supposed to treat her, but you have to understand the damage Neal did was extensive and all I know how to do is fight her. She hurt me that bad back than and as i move on without her she will always be able to hurt me, but every time she does I will get meaner and more agressive I hold this element right now I placed my base here I watch enemy territory quite often I know she see’s what I write.

I think me and her just need to have sex, angry but very passionate sex. Sorry thinking outloud and just putting it down, I honestly dont know what could make it better. If anyone has a clue let me know cause I dont, all I know is I can not give up on her even if I want to I just cant I dont know why I wish I did.

one of the things that frustrates me is she tries to be my best friend and me her but I am also a best friend with a very large cock (pardon my french) you know how large cock and girlfriends tend to mean trouble. That is what this is really about in a nutshell she despises my big dick cause it penitrates things and it pisses her off cause it aint penitrating her.

Well I better shut up now, good luck in th efield dude, be carefull out there, we are almost 2000 americans now. Just good luck bye

Nickname: -soma-
Re: Pass through the gates of Flesh.
I have no desire to add any fuel to this already ridiculous and offensive dialogue that Jason is propagating. But in my defense, I must ensure everyone else that these things Jason is saying about me are simply not true. His accusations are becoming increasingly outrageous because he is hoping it will provoke me to respond. Well, I guess that it has, finally; However, I felt the need to apologize to everyone else who has had to endure his drivel. This will be the last thing I have to say about all of this.

Nickname: Asmodeus
For Kellie
Liar? I dont remember lying about anything. You could not call it truth or Lies its neither just venting my anger out. I have a right to do that everybody here has a right to do that.

Dont apologize to them Kellie, you do not control my actions, it is not your fault it is mine so dont apologize to them. That is what is wrong with us, you think you have to control all the things I do, understand you can not control the things I do, not even the police or the governement can control what I do.

It is about control, that is all the reason you do the things you do to exhert power over me. People it is not all she has to say about this, she just does not know what she can hit me with, as soon as she figures out how she will try believe you me, I know her pretty damn well on the negative side of her, she will try to hit me with something. It is just harder for her to offend me than it is for I to offend her, believe me even now she is trying to figure out a way to get back at me.

She is doing a pretty good job at trying to make herself look like the good guy, a very good tactic if I could say so myself, oh the apologetic Kellie, how could we dislike such a cute face, she is willing to apologize for that asshole to us. Lies, she scorns they are all lies about me to get me to do what he wants. The problem with that Kellie is many things I have said are not about you they are to you.

Poor Ryan, I have to tell you she has gotten some experience through me, dont piss her off, she will rip into you, I can take it, but I dont think you can.

Well Kellie I guess tha is all i have to say, but I am still staying here, I am going to go on about my religion, there are things in it I have not even told you, if you are still on the power trip to not talk to me that is fine, it will just come down to who can hold there ground the longest, I have to tell you my fortress is pretty built up so go ahead continue to exhert your power over me, mean while if you have something to say about my religious beliefes then by all means do so, just because we are fighting right now does not mean I dont think you are entitled to an opinion good or bad of what I believe it dont affect me so much.

This is not all I have to say, about anything I am going to continue on as I was, and now for Lord Tyr.

Original article posted by Gunny:

For the last few weeks I’ve been watching this show, “Prison Break,” on Fox. It is definitely the coolest new show on TV I have seen lately. As the story goes, an engineer, Michael Schofield, robs a bank to get into the prison where his brother is wrongfully incarcerated and is about to be executed. Michael finds him inside and tells his brother his plan to break out and leave the country. He has the prison’s blueprints, and any other information he will need, tattooed all over his body. The show is a total rush. Every commercial is a cliff-hanger, and in every episode somebody new finds out about their escape plan, making the escape less likely and more dangerous.

Last week I arranged my homework other occupations, so that I can have time for the hour long show. At the appointed hour, eight o’clock on Monday night, I turn on Mr. Philo T. Farnsworth’s incredible machine (The TV), for what could be the awe-inspiring finale of this epic hero-saga. To my horror, and near maddening dismay, Major League Baseball has competed for, and won, the prime time Monday night venue. I braved the irresponsible abuse of the Fox Network, hoping that it was a mistake. I waited for this week, Monday night at eight o’clock, only to once again be mocked by the sight of tight-polyester clad men standing around on a pile of dirt.

I tell you, I almost pitched my remote through the screen. I mean really…who, in the name of Bigfoot’s testicles, actually watches this pseudo-athletic farce? And what programming genius *thinly veiled sarcasm* down at Fox actually thought it could trump “Prison Break.” Perhaps baseball was, at one time, as American as apple pie (Which reminds me, why are things termed “American” often the very worst example of a product? I.e. American cheese, McDonalds, MLB, etc. Don’t say it’s a reflection of our society or I’ll kick sand in your eyes.); however, the days of baseball’s height are far gone. Whatever respect the game once commanded has melted away like the shining frosts on spring rooftops. Whatever loyal fans were left from the money grubbing strikes are being turned off by the steroid abuse of the players. Putting the conduct of the players aside, the game is a snoozefest. I really don’t think the game would change much if you replaced the players with cardboard cutouts or even two inch army men. When you get down to it, baseball has the same amount of action as fishing in a swimming pool, but without the serenity; instead, baseball has the whiny voices of commentators, droning on, trying to put the unbelievably dull game into the even duller context of the season. The result is the most irritating collage of visual and auditory messages that any sane person could imagine.

Baseball has made people suffer enough, and the time has come to let baseball die. Let Americans remember baseball by hitting rocks with a stick in their backyard instead of trying to picture Babe Ruth’s face on the greedy, depraved hedonists in the MLB. The players themselves know that their strutted, fretted hour on the stage is coming to an end; Jose Conseco wrote “Juiced,” naming names in McCarthy fashion of those players who take steroids. He’s getting his money from the book sales and jumping ship. Let the captain go down with that ship – taking the ridiculous plastic hat-helmets, the worthless trading cards, and tightest pants that ever graced a husky man’s thighs – down in a wonderful whirlpool to the nethermost reaches of the Mariana Trench, never again poking its steroid-augmented, chaw spitting, stupid cap-wearing head around my “Prison Break” hour again.

For more ammunition against MLB, see George Carlin’s “Baseball and Football.”

Mst. Gny

Original article posted by Cornelius:

I can see that I’ve been away for far too long. Unfortunately, I’m only half-way through. The good news is that I’m half-way done. And I’ll be coming home in January for a couple of weeks. I’ll have to make the rounds, if I can find out where everyone lives now. Except for Asmodeus. As funny as he is to listen to, I’m afraid that I’d just end up hurting him a whole lot for being so cruel to Kelly. That’s uncalled for. You can dislike someone all you want to, but there’s no excuse for not being civil.

Its been a long time, but there’s not been much happening here. Mostly we’ve been getting shot at and blown up. Fortunately the insurgents are a cowardly and superstitious lot. Also, they can’t hit anything smaller than a baseball field on purpose. They hit us occasionally, but we’ve been getting them by the dozens and they get us in twos and threes.

For those of you who want to know what this place is like, watch Dune. It’s not far from the truth. I’ve even ridden the sandworm.

Well, I’m sorry, but I’ve not much else to say. Except for I’m looking forward to hearing from those of you who know me. Oh, keep up the good work Asmodeus. I need a good laugh once in a while. “Summon a tuna sandwich.” That’s classic!

Orginal comments:

Nickname: Asmodeus
Re: Thanks to all of the Villagers.
I have a few military people under my wing, Jester is E.O.D.

As for me being so cruel to kellers, oh and its Kellie not with the Y but that is ok I dont judge its not my name after all. Look at it this way, I am a super power (that is just a metaphor) and kellie will be the small country that says it wont take it anymore she wants nothing to do with my country. She tells me that contact is cut off and that negotiations are no longer usefull. Well that pisses my super power country off, how can you be civil if you can not open a dialogue, well you have no other option but war of course.

Hence I am here like America setting up one of my bases, I could be far more worse believe you me and small country kellie also knows that I can be far more cruel to her, of course I could drop a thermal nuclear weapon on her country (from what Jester tells me is far more destructive than us civilians think, and of course he can not tell me how big one of those suckers can get) also a metaphor saying that I have not done anything yet, what i am doing right now is feeling some of you out doing some surveilance if you will, only one of you has caught on though.

I do not underestimate the enemy at all I am cautious how I tread and I have appeared on here with more than one Alias, you just do not know which Aliases I have I am four people in life and on here.

Cornelius may I ask you, what it is that you are doing for your job in the military? Have you been to the great city of Babylon? I heard most of the ruins are under water or at least were under some type of lake, just curious you dont have to answer.

Anyways as a person in the military you know just as well as I, that in any event with fighting, neither of us can stop until negotiations are started and I dont see her doing that at all, so she deserves my cruelty as it escalates now doesn’t she. but of course she uses you people to try to deter me and of course it is not working.

I know how to find her, its only a matter of when she decides to stop pouting and talk to me rather than hit and run, she should know me well enough by now that it does not work to just insult me and run away because I will find ways to fight back.

Anyways I am done with this part I am here to talk to someone in private so if you will by my leave.

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