Transmission from the Satellite Mind (Transmission from Horace)
Transmission from the Satellite Mind (Transmission from Horace),
Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libero pulsanda tellus.
Transmitting this to you from the center of the Earth! The world as we knew it ended December 21st , 2012 with the end of the 13th B’ak’tun and the beginning of the 4th K’atun. This much we know. The cancer has been exposed, preparing for the final treatment, the removal of the malignant tumor. We have been gone for nearly seven years (your time), we are still gone this message is merely an echo from a distant future which is also the past. We thought we would miss this world, but we only missed you. We have all become Doktors now. Nihilist in name only, we have the paperwork to back it up. We miss the touch of your skin, your hot breath on our neck. The world is almost unrecognizable to us now (our flesh made light) a rainbow in our eyes nothing is left of us but memory and sound. The machine elves have connected us, we are all Christ childs, little baby Buddhas, peace and love in the post-Atomic-Age. We were talking about this with Horace just the other day which is still in the future for you. We were in the park enjoying an apple laced with DMT. While admiring the language of light a beautiful crimson fire ant came and landed on our knee. It spoke to us and told of the world to come when the machine elves will unfold before us and bathe the world in the language of light. We looked into the eyes of Horace and asked him will the light hurt will we be bent and broken or remade whole again. Horace (in his usual way) would smile and said to us; T(E)=e−22mℏ2(V0−E)√(x2−x1)=V~−(x2−x1)0. His words were like magic. The music of mathematics the science of love. There are no perfect answers on the other side. We sit in the middle of the extraction, soon all the pain will leave, and we will escape. The monsters that lurk in the bottom of the lake will be left with each other no food from us; starvation is their fate. We understand this now in hindsight. The feeling will be expressed shortly. We miss you remember. We miss you…
LoVe, Dr. Nihilist III
Calling in from the fifth wall
Calling in from the fifth wall.
The lord Zed figurine of plastic darkness, angler on the lake of sorrow, measured in half by what he owed. Called forth tonight from the Himalayas. There wasn’t much we could do, but try and process the ghost. I’m getting eaten alive right now. I can feel the hurt from the inside seeping out to my pour and I need a cleansing. I need to be free from this hurt and I’m not talking about dying. I’m sure there is a name for it in some language that I have forgotten through time. MY mind is not what it used to be so you must forgive me. I see the sun set in the east and the west but never see it rise. I keep thinking to myself; how long did Buddha sit under that tree for. It’s not a very good model. This day and age we expect speed even with our enlightenment. That’s not how it’s done the universe keeps reminding me. I’m sure I will forget as soon as the drugs the aliens gave me where off. They fill you with hallucinogens while they perform their experiments on you. It’s not like they need the data it’s just for fun. They get bored waiting for us to evolve. Unfortunately that’s not going to happen in my life time. Unless you count the genetic modifications we make to ourselves trying to hurry evolution itself.
There are those who would contend that self modification is a form of evolution but I don’t agree totally. It is and it isn’t. I mean on the most basic premise and understanding of evolutionary theory it is, but in actual proven evolution it’s debatable. Humans have evolved, but now it’s the quite time when man is not visibly transforming. It’s happening all around you and it’s not over. I know I shouldn’t care about what you’re doing right now but I do. I care a lot and it’s making me cry that you haven’t called me. My heart was broken before this song came on. Somewhere out there I know there is someone waiting for me, but truth is I probably already pissed them off already thinking about you too much. Movement is limited in the heart but the city is big and so is the stated and the country is even bigger. Distance cannot fill the void though. Travel cannot reclaim the time spent and the years lost. I’m too old to find myself and too young to lose myself again. I am aware of who and what I am the blood is there in the soil and it want wash away.
There is an access point between worlds where we can see everything. And when I say everything I mean everything (Past, present, future, what could have been, what would have been, and beyond). The universe opens up like a flower there and the dawn is always just beyond the horizon. Not very fun to live in a place where everything is there but just out of reach, and where heaven is not a place where nothing ever happens. This is a false heaven and one must seek the land where change is infinite and undying. Where the unbridled life of chaos and disorder are mere molecules of love and hate; distilled for the enjoyment of others. “Speaks so clearly”, it says. None such luck Jack, the tongue gets tied up in the head of one so alone. I once lay dormant thriving on the unexpected. The machine elves drilled holes in my head but not to let the demons out. They put them in and locked them up with me. Up on that mountain I went to find enlightenment. Tried getting a Zen then had to learn a new Zen (Figured out about ten-by now). My rocket ship fits a lot.
As thinking the other day about how we were all just soul carriers. Not just of our own souls, but those around us, and those who have come before us. I’m sure there are others who have and still do feel this way. We express it differently and I have yet to find a proper name for it. Times are changing and things always need rearranging. I want to walk off into the sunset like a good cowboy/samurai. Yet their meanings are lost in time and the truth about cowboys and samurai is not a glorious as there Hollywood descriptions.
Not so Sincerely,
Dr. Nihilist
Aka
Fucktard General
DESTROYERS OF THE WORLD UNITE!
I’m just going to quit apologizing for not updating this blog enough. It seems every time that I do I get even more behind. Let’s just say that sometimes real life gets in the way of internet life and because of that we make sacrifices. With that said I would like to point out that I have not forgotten the mission statement of Goatfuckers.com or the entire Goatfucker nation. In an effort to boost moral I may direct you two tumblr pages that I somehow mange to keep on top of Armada Out-Post 606 and Die Making Love to a Horse. I have few rants keyed up but their stuck in editorial phases right now, as soon as there sussed out I’ll post them. In the meantime I have also begun work on musical project that ties into all this, it’s working title is Suicidal Dream Lords. We’ll see if it manifest anytime soon, but remember you heard it here first! The deafening chant of the SDL will be DESTROYERS OF THE WORLD UNITE! Tell your friends!
2012 Disaster Culture on the rise!
First off we would like to thank the good Doctor for lending us a hand while we were taking care of more pressing matters (like keeping a roof over our heads). I’m sure there are those of you out there who weren’t sure what to make of his left-handed path, or his calls to Midnight Ravers. Well, good, you should stay confused. Confusion is the key.
You can’t tell the woman from the man
No, I say you can’t, ’cause they’re dressed in the same pollution
Their mind is confused with confusion
With their problems since they’ve no solution:
They become the midnight ravers.
So there you have it! Any other questions you have for the Good Doctor can be directed at the man himself when he returns and trust me he will return.
In the meantime the Disaster Culture movement that we began in 2009 (earlier IRL, but for sake of arguing will go back to when we started this little blog), from movies to television shows everyone seems to be joining the cult of extinction. You all want to be End-Time Enthusiast! Zombies are this years Vampires, but they’re all equally undead. We all feel everyone else is the walking dead. The build up to 2012 felt a lot like the pre-millinal tension that led up to the year 2000, only darker and more hopeless. Everyone appears to be seeing that the truth we goat-fucking idiots have long been trumpeting; that there is no light at the end of the tunnel. NBC is advertising it’s new Thursday night as the last comedies you will see before the end of the world! The world is ending-have a cocktail! Disaster fashion is seeping up from the sewers into the main stream. Doomsayer tunes have invaded the ears of the “normal” world. A new Grand Theft Auto is coming out! Politics (which have always been about disaster and doom) have trended to the extra-dark, proclaiming every budget deadline the end of everything as we know it. As the world outside of America awakens and revolts, Americans squeak out a meager attempt at socioeconomic rage, in the pitiful hash-tag movement in which a group of out-of-work college students camp together in public spaces while playing the latest Elder Scrolls on their Mac Air laptops.
The Good Doctor Returns!
The Return of Dr. Nihilist
It is uncertain whether the good Dr. (as he is known) is a real person, or several people. He is an online persona that has existed before the internet. A Meta figure who contacted me through the mail back when I used to print a zine in the days when zines were cool. According to his resume he was born in either Minneapolis, Florida, or Minnesota, Ohio. He was raised by barracudas on the south shore of Indonesia or possibly just a construct made up of three different psychopathic murders by ancient alien design. Either way he was educated at all the finest community colleges in the south-east from College Park Maryland to College Park, Louisiana. He drives a one of a kind Racing Mini Cooper, equipped with nitro and a roll bar.
He (or she, or they) first contacted me when I was in high school and began transmitting what can only be called as the first transmissions. Strange cryptic ramblings that expelled no belief system or ideology. He spewed forth his venom in many hand typed letters that helped for what would become Rant and Rave, and into that The Royal Monkee Armada. He claimed to be raised on a steady diet of drugs and alcohol and fed into a life-machine that taught him the secret operating skills of Venusian Masters. His face was never seen. He/It commanded a loyal following on the green lettered BBS boards of the day. In 1998 he disappeared. It was rumored he married a white/Asian in Cambodia and moved to Vietnam where he only spoke Thai and practiced his black medicine in the jungle. There he honed his craft to protect the president from an army of Sunlit Vampires. Some writings serviced during this time under the name 3 times 3 that folks in the know claim was the Good Doctor.
This is copy of his first transmission I received back in 1994;
The midnight rider has come again. Midnight is on the rise. Dig the hip speech keeping it fresh for ya! “His Madness kept him sane.” The topic this day is everything open discussion time, So sit back and change,
Is it not wise for a man to ally himself with those who could do him harm. Why make enemies with someone you have no hope of defeating, a wise man once said “keep your friends close and your enemies closer”. In building an anti-empire it would be smart to gather together those who could best benefit your goals. I chose to keep company with people who have the potential to be powerful. Those who have intellect, prudence, strength and the means in which to accomplish my goals.
What are these goals you may ask? I hope to liberate everyone from normality. To break the cycle of life: get up, go to work, so you can make money, so you can buy food, so you can have energy, to get up, go to work…ect. I want to see everyone free from having to do anything. I want to see people doing only what they choose. That is my idea of true freedom. I want to see monetary form destroyed. I would like to see mass production end and a return to the trade system. I would like to see weapon production ended and all means of restarting it eliminated. I would like to see peoples co-dependency on government (local, state, and federal) abolished. I would like Anarchy. For those things to come about, the public would have to dramatically change its views. Give up its religion. Give up its wealth and cushy life. It would have to be hardened by something harsh and rough. It would have to be burned.
And the only thing I could see that could burn a people already scarred by daily images of violence and inhumanity is a violent revolution. A sweeping madness that will change everything by destroying it. The public will not willingly give up its lifestyle; therefore it must be stripped of it. And who better to do that than those who do not have these things. And who better to lead them than those who do not want it.
Now in this time of social unrest, the Good Doctor returns. Thanks to the power of social media, I am proud to announce that we will once again be publishing the misunderstood ramblings of the maddest bastard this side of the Rio Grande. With the code words Barble Far, “Houston-we have go!”. Soon and very soon those of you who don’t know-will know!
Al Bundy gets Walk of Fame star
Flanked by his two television wives Katey Sagal (Peg), and Sofia Viagra (some show hes on now), the founder of No’Mam has received his long overdue star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Christina Applegate was also on hand no word if Grandmaster B. was int he crowd unable to get past the velvet rope! O’Neil said he almost didn’t accept the honor because he was too fucking cool, but his 11 year-old daughter convinced him other wise by telling him he would be crazy not to. I don’t know what’s more impressive, that the 65 year-old actor has a 11 year-old or that he takes advice from her! The Bundy patriarch has long been revered in Goatfucker circles, but now he is finally being recognized by the lame stream media! We await the Queen Peggy’s star next!(via)USAToday
The King Mob and I
Okay, it’s been over a week now since I met one of my heroes and idols Grant Morrison at a book signing in L.A. and I think I’ve finally processed it enough to write about it. For those who don’t know who that is; Grant Morrison is in my opinion the most prolific and greatest writer of all time. You can argue about that if you want and trust me many people have tried. You can claim that Alan Moore’s Watchmen, or Frank Miller’s Dark Knight, makes them the greatest comic book writers, and if you only judged on sales then you’d still be wrong because Morrison’s Arkham Asylum has outsold both of those and remains in the New York Times top 100, 20 years after it was published. You can argue that Grant Morrison is more of a fringe writer and that his stories are too confusing and all over the board. To that I would just look at you like you were stupid and pat you on your empty head. My love of Grant Morrison does not stem from his work on DC’s 52, or Final Crisis, it does not come from reading his All-Star Superman (the greatest Superman story ever told), or his six years on Batman (the best six years the 70+ year old character has ever had), no; my love for Grant Morrison comes from the work he is arguably most known for-The Invisibles.
The Invisibles was a seven year creator owned (published under DC’s Vertigo imprint), odyssey that chronicles the journey of the next Buddha from boyhood to adulthood, with a band of anarchist/ontological terrorist fighting the ultimate good fight in the war between Order and Chaos. It is also a giant magickal sigil that affected everyone who truly read it and the man who wrote it. It affected me profoundly when I first picked up the seven page preview back in 1993. In 1994 when the book came out I lost my mother to Cancer, and began my long journey through drug abuse, punk rock culture, and in 1996 I formed an Invisible cell of my own. I had gotten into LSD pretty heavily, selling it and taking it almost daily. I was going to punk shows, and straight from there to raves throughout the Southeast. I gathered a wild eclectic band of young freaks and geeks with whom I turned onto the book. We read each issue over and over religiously. Devouring every word he wrote.
After a particularly long week of ingesting acid we decided it would be a
great idea to construct a bomb. We were hapless armatures who thought we knew more than we did because we had read the Anarchist cook book. We weren’t completely out of it, we knew that what we constructed was not actually capable of exploding but it looked real, and we wanted to use it. After a short deliberation we picked a place-Hanes Mall-the largest mall between Maryland and Atlanta. We had resented the structure for various personal infractions, but more or less because we felt like it was drain on our area’s burgeoning youth culture. It was the thing that sucked the soul out of the city and when the mall closed at 10 the entire town shut down. It had to be taught a lesson. With haste we devised a plan and set our convincing fake inside a bathroom to await discovery. To quicken the pace I placed a call into the police and the local news station.
After some sloppiness on our part we were ratted out by one of our own, and captured four days later. My cell was comprised of kids each under 18 years old so they were given one year probation, while I was the ripe old age of 19 so I received a Federal Felony. I got 3 years probation plus six months on house arrest and another six in a half-way house. I continued to devour acid and drink like a fish, until I racked up four violations and a healthy rap sheet. After my forth probation violation I received an additional 8 months this time in a Federal Penitentiary on the side of a mountain in Ohio. There the series came winding down to its end and my journey as well transformed into so much more than I had ever dreamed. Once free I began this awesome track across the United States, first to Atlanta, then to New York, back to Atlanta. From there I moved to St. Louis, Oakland, and finally ended up here in San Francisco, where the King Mob character from the book had an ex girlfriend that he called once when he thought he was dying.
Throughout the book I felt I was intertwined in the story, from early on the discoveries of Jack Frost within the 2D paged became my discoveries in real life. I fought the law, danced into the night with drag queens, and fell into a world of ancient magick and mysticism that has followed me every day since. There are many people in my life that I credit with making me the man I have become; Ian McCaye from Minor Threat/Fugazi, Jeff Joyce my mentor when I was first entering the world of punk rock, my mother, my grandmother, and Grant Morrison. I had met all my heroes and idols, except for Grant up until July 28th. When I met him a cycle of supplication has ended. I felt after I shook his hand and told him my story that I was now free. Whatever happens from here on out is up to me. The Invisible’s has been over for 11 years now. It was time I stepped out of its shadow and began to cast one of my own.
I had no idea when I left SF for LA on Jun 1st that I was going to be able to actually see my hero in person. I had heard that he had a place in LA and split his time between there and Glasgow (Scotland). So I preformed one of the rituals I learned from the letters pages of The Invisibles. A process called sigil magick, were you write down a request from the universe and remove the consonants leaving only the vowels. You then take the vowels and arrange them into an almost unrecognizable pattern forming a singular symbol from the letters. You then fixate on the sigil and most masturbate upon it to give it some kind of sex magick power. I have done that, but I have found when I really want something I consume it. So instead of jerking off on the piece of paper I crumpled it up and ate it. When I arrived in Los Angeles I went to see an old friend of mine who runs a theatre in the back of a comic shop. After hugging and getting over the initial excitement seeing each other after some time, she informed me that Grant would be in the store promoting a book of his. The spell had worked; I lied on the floor briefly in disbelief.
I had nearly the entire two months I was there to wait. I idled the time away sightseeing and meeting people, having adventures and sitting quietly in my rented room wondering what it was I was going to say to the man who had shaped so much of my life. I debating on whether or not to give him some of my writings, or show him some of my sketches, I thought about if I should tell him about my cell, or just mention that I had a letter published in the back of The Invisibles back in 1996. I agonized over these decisions like one would agonize over whether or not to shoot someone. I weighed the pros and cons and tried my best to see ever possible outcome. In the end when the moment came I decided to simple tell him my story and thank him for what he had done. It was beyond words. I fretted and worried the entire evening. Through his interview by My Chemical Romances Gerard Way, thought he Q & A period and the entire time I milled around with the other store employees who had become my friends over the two months, awaiting my turn to speak with the Master.
It’s hard to describe the feeling of nervousness and elation that being around him brought to me. To me he is more than just a comic book creator, or writer. He is more than just a guy who wrote some kick ass book, this is a man who for all intents and purposes wrote my personal bible. He gave me visions that would rival and Christian hallucinations and set me on this course to living out my ultimate dreams. Now I know it doesn’t look like it, I am 33 and yet to be published. I have spent so many years wallowing in alcohol and self-doubt. I had taken myself up and down the highways of America in search of the awakening of my own Buddha-hood. I’ve found a lot of things on my journey, but I have yet to transform into a being of pure light and reach Parinirvana. But I can now say that I’ve met Grant Morrison.
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Now playing: The Durutti Column – Otis
via FoxyTunes
Mr. Six will rape you in so many ways!
I wonder if Grant Morrison is thinking about me as much as I’m thinking about him today. Probably not since he doesn’t know me, but in some parallel universe we are best friends so (cross your fingers). Earlier today I woke up thinking about one of my favorite characters in The Invisibles; Mr. Six. I was thinking about him not as Big Malkie, or the smooth operating member of Division X, no, no, I was thinking about who Mr. Six was based on. The incomprehensible Peter Wyngrade! Who played the character Jason King in the short lived British television series of the same name. He was a foppish dandy of a secret agent working for the mysterious Department S. It’s a quite a complex and headed story especially for its time. It involved a guy writing about a guy, while also kinda of being the guy he was writing about and the duality or would that be tri-ality of the fantastic adventures the character would get into while researching material for the character he was creating. Yeah I know it sounds loopy and it is in all the right ways. No wonder it inspired Gran Morrison. The thing is Peter Wyngrade himself was quite a character. He was the son of a British Diplomat and a French mother. Spent his childhood in 5 different countries and even spent a few years in a Japanese concentration camp in Shanghai! He was on the Prisoner and was climbing up the ladder of success when in 1975 he got busted doing something in a public bathroom that people tend to frown on. What ever the guy also made some insane spoken word type albums that seem like they either inspired William Shatner or were inspired by him who knows. I mean Shat-Rock-Diesel possibly drowned his wife, and we still love him! And George Micheal still made a few kick ass songs right! That’s neither here nor there! The fact is that This dude is bad ass and makes songs about shit no one should ever make songs about! Check It!
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Now playing: Peter Wyngarde – “Rape”
via FoxyTunes
Timewave Zero, Novelty Theory, Lybia, and Charlie Sheen
Since I was young I have been fascinated with apocalyptic theories, I have read and re-read every Robert Anton Wilson Book, I have delved deep into ancient and mystic text, and spent countless hours over analyzing the works of US philosopher Terrence McKenna. For those unfamiliar Timewave theory it was developed by McKenna, who studied the “Book of Changes” or the “I Ching” (one of the oldest Chinese books ). I Ching is a Chinese system formed from 64 hexagrams determined by two lines (commonly known in the West) as yin and yang.Despite being the go-to choice for tattoo flash at Daytona beach throughout the 1990s. McKenna theorizes that the I Ching may have initially been used as a calendar system. By studying the ancient writings, he conceived a numerological formula through which was assigned an I Ching symbol to each major event that took place in History. McKenna noticed that around the year 2012, the coincidence of events ( that can occur ) is a lot bigger. He hypothesized that around the winter solstice in 2012, civilization would be the subject to some major change. This coincided with theories already circulating on the Mayan calendar; particularly centering around the end of the 13th b’ak’tun of the Mayan calendar. Most specialists that studied the theory believe that McKenna misinterpreted the I Ching oracle, and that his study was incorrect.
Weather or not you buy McKenna’s right or not, it is obvious, and has been obvious for sometime that something is happening. The increased in cycles of “novelty” the rapid succession that world-wide events are unfolding, be it catastrophic weather patterns, global upheaval throughout the Middle east, Asia and Europe. Even in America there is civil unrest and discontent by various sides depending on perspective. There feels like a condensing of time. This may or may not be true. It could all be delusions of a few drug addled men and women. It could be the collective hallucination of a species that has sense it’s inception sought out confound itself with beliefs and dogma that (as far as we know) does not exist in other animals. My love of end-time, apocalyptic cults is rivaled only by my love of comic books and professional wrestling! I love our current age of disposable deities and fleeting celebrity worship. Faster than a season of American Idol can keep up with the information age gives us weekly idols, monthly Gods, daily heroes to worship. This in a sense brings up the question of how sacred can something be when it is only temporary. The answer of course is that everything is temporary and nothing is stable, therefore nothing is sacred and all things are in a since novelty.I believe it is necessary and healthy and that the ease in which the snake is now shedding its skin and being reborn only completes the cycle. Although the cycle is never truly complete and the war never ends.
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Now playing: The Black Angels – Call to Arms
via FoxyTunes
Fatties Eat Free!
Further proof that Arizona is the center of Hell! The world famous Heart-Attack Grill (featured on countless Travel Chanel and Food Network specials that come on in the wee hours of the night), has come up with a new add campaign that promises free food if you already weigh over 350lbs! As if Americans weren’t fat enough! This is actually funny and I’m pretty steamed that I didn’t think of it first. I say if your big-boned then roll with it! Love yourself for who you are, and the more of a glutenous pig you become the shorter your life span and the fewer meat bags it is running around this god-awful planet. Howrah for American ingenuity! It’s too bad there isn’t a franchise of these restaurant clogging up the arteries of the rest of the country!
Lost in /b/ullshit; My Two Weeks as a SummerFag
PedoBear
Apology’s for not posting in a few weeks, my brains been melted. I have spent the last few weeks fully immersed in the land of /b/. It’s not something I would recommend to the faint of heart or weak of stomach. It’s not the mutilated bodies or highly fucked up and illegal pictures, it’s not the extreme racism or heavy usage of the word Fag and the like, no what melted my brain was the dialog. Broken words and misspelled back speak. It was like listening to a conversation with a bunch of drunken redneck retards who never made it past the eight grade. I went in looking for a few GIFs and memes to re-post and spread a few of my own, I found a few, no such luck spreading my own creations. But it became addictive, like watching a train wreck in slow motion, I found myself on it at all times, even violating the rules and mentioning it outside the confines of 4Chan. For those of you who aren’t aware of what 4Chan is; it’s a image board where users post pictures and discuss various topics. It is primarily for fans of manga and anime, but by far it’s most popular bard is it’s random or /b/ board. It is notorious in the internet community for creating such memes as Pedo Bear (which is exactly what it sounds like), rick rolling (Clips and Gifs of 80’s R&B one hit wonder Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up”, and they also claim responsibility for introducing Tay Zonday’s “Chocolate Rain” to the world. The sites anonymous members (known as Anons) also claim to be the most elite hackers and boast a few successful stunts including hacking into Sarah Palin’s private email account. During my stay there they attacked a 11 year old girl and made her cry until her father said something stupid on her web cam and they remixed it and turned into a meme. While there is a lot to be said about that incident it’s best left alone because CONSEQUENCES WILL NEVER BE THE SAME. In reality the site seems to be populated by a bunch of kids with decent computer skills, a few have exceptional photo-shopping techniques such as X-raying; where they take a picture of a woman in a thin white shirt and make the shirt see-through. I wouldn’t mind learning that one, but good luck having anyone on the site actually share anything useful. Though posting as Anon the member’s seem to be able to recognize each others post and anyone who isn’t in their circle is rejected as a NewFag. 
The distinction between NewFags and OldFags seems at first arbitrary, I mean how can you tell who is new and old if no names are given? At first I believed it was the quality of post, but I left with the impression that in some way they know each other either through other social networking sites or perhaps IRL (in real life). On large thought the main community seems more obsessed with pictures of womenfolk’s breast and possibly underage girls. They seem to be mainly children themselves on average I would say the age range is between 14 and 25. Most adults should be aware of this before setting foot inside this realm. I told my girlfriend about the site and she looked at me as if I had just done something horribly wrong. Which I had, this was not a place for someone my age. I would feel extremely dirty after going into one of these threads where the OP (original poster) put up a funny picture only to find a list of questionable photos that could have my computer hauled off by the FBI if I didn’t wipe my history clean after each visit. I am a sick bastard I have no problem with the content of say Heaven666, or StileProject, and in truth I had no real beef with what they post over on /b/, but the sensibilities of a goatfucker are not those of the rest of the world. They are a group of kids who have become extremely adapt in the art of trolling. There are plenty of funny threads and amazing pictures, I got a my new Wallpaper from there and found plenty of pics to post on my tumblr account, but that just goes to mark me as a NewFag I suppose, which is why none of my own creations made it as the next spectacular meme.
The most interesting thing about /b/ is the Anon thing, most of them have a pretty strong sense of unity, and refer to themselves a /b/rothers. They often use the imaginary of a Guy Faux mask ala Alan Moore’s legendary V for Vendetta. Though most of them are so young they probably saw the movie first, where as I am so old I remember picking up the book when it was on the shelves for the first time. More original imagery of a black and white suit with no head or hands is used as well. That particular image is my favorite and represents more of my own Anarchistic political leanings. In theory the site could be very powerful and perhaps a few years back it was. It began in 2003 after all and over the years has garnered a few mainstream media attention. Which of course brings its own flock of look-y-loos and hangers-on, so the site is probably somewhat watered down, with the Jessie Slaughter event being a prime example.
Anon
A few nights later a few members bandied around the idea of targeting someone actually worth their harassment like Glenn Beck. After several half-assed threads trying to ascertain his personal information nothing happened and it went away. While the memes of the 11 year old girl they tortured persisted. I thankfully stayed out of anything even related to this, simply because I feel picking on children is a bit too far once you are no longer a child yourself. I was hoping the Glenn Beck campaign would have taking flight since I hate him soooooo much, I would have gladly taken a active roll in decimating his life, but as one poster mentioned he probably has enough security that at best we would only be ruining the day of some poor security guard who already had the unfortunate job of protecting the biggest asshole in the world. There is hope though a few threads sprang up after the event that suggest true members lay low and let the NewFags and what they call SummerFags (kids only on during summer break when they don’t have a bed time) go away. If the strategy works /b/ could be back to a more radical and enlightened state by September, but I won’t hold my breath. I really wish when I was a kid I would have found something like this to waste my time on, instead I was too busy out having friends and all kinds of crazy adventures. I didn’t even own a computer of my own until I was in my twenty’s , so alas I will never be able to tri-force.
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Now playing: Black Flag – Room 13
via FoxyTunes
Now You too Can Be The Goblin King
fucking jack-off!
Okay! Where to begin…? Annoying jack ass screaming at me-check. A bunch of pony-tailed street jugglers thinking this is their big break-check! Stupid Emo chick obviously reading from Que cards-check! A bunch of dumb random people clearly confused about how to say the name-check! Crazy old lady pledging to buy the product for her grandson she never sees and is actually 21 and hooked on meth-check! Oh and the bullshit product you promise will change everything in the viewers sad and pathetic life-check and double check! What the fuck is going on here! For $19.95 I can be just like David Bowie in Labyrinth! Seriously? These assholes want us to think this is some kind of new “magic” ball that will “confuse” your friends. Chances are if you sitting around playing with balls you either don’t have any friends or you have the wrong kind of friends. This horrible new commercial is on like thirty times a night! I can’t take it anymore, it’s so fucking load, I’m way too high for this shit at three in the morning. The sad thing is I bet this stupid shit catches on. Even though they are not “new”, and you can’t just pick them up and use them, it takes years to learn how to preform contact juggling (which is what it is). But because people are sad and lonely, and the jack-offs with extra money to blow always spends it on dumb shit like this. I mean the last dumb late night infomercial that annoyed me this much was this dumb piece of crap-and I actually see people using these in real fucking life.
Those weren’t even Bowie’s hands, he’s got much better shit to do than learn stupid juggling tricks-like banging Iman!
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Now playing: Hank Williams Sr. – Half As Much
via FoxyTunes
The Spirit of Succession Lives On!
Recently while on a pilgrimage to see one of the greatest bands in the universe; I had the privilege of driving through (what I was unaware of at the time) Americas unofficial 51st state. “51st state?” you ask! Yes there is a hidden state between Northern California and Southern Oregon called Jefferson. 
“Why hadn’t I heard about this state?” I’m sure you’re asking yourself. I asked the same question. Why hadn’t you heard of it! It was only formed in 1941! Yes it started the same year Pearl Harbor was bombed and America entered WWII (for the history buffs). I never heard of it until I drove past a barn with Jeffersonstate.com painted on the roof. 
So I looked it up and it turns out these guys were pretty serious-back in 1941! They held up cars with shot guns to pass out there “Proclamation of Independence”, basically they were a bunch of farmers that wanted the roads in their area improved, but when the war started they dropped their guns and fell in line, then when Obama got elected they got pissed off again and wanted to be they’re on state. They have a blog that claims to reach millions yet has only three entries (the last of which was in February). They also have a YouTube site with informative videos explaining how their plight is based more on California’s rising debt and Oregon’s unemployment, 
but if you visit their blog it seems to be more about Obama not having a birth certificate than any particular grievance. I’m all for political independence, I am first and foremost a fucking anarchist, but this whole “Tea Party/Libertarian” resurgence thing that’s going on just seems so racially motivated that it’s sickening. Perhaps it’s because my skin is brown that I can’t come to grips with the fact that now everyone is a gun toting conspiracy believer. I was into a lot of these theories of “one world government” when I was in high school, I was up on all the militia movement and radical theories before they were cool, but now it seems that the people that are all about fighting the government only want to fight it because someone is in power that doesn’t look like them. I mean seriously how come none of these puritans stood up to fight when George Bush led us into a false war, or any of the other countless bullshit crap that the previous administration was pulling? Where was the anger and revolution for the last ten years? Now all of a sudden people want to pick up arms and revolt? It just seems a little bogus to me. Would these same people be ready to succeed from the union if John McCain and Sarah Palin were elected? The State of Jefferson has its roots in a different time though so they can claim a pre-Tea Baggers right to revolt. They were mad at the federal government for not doing enough to help them extract the natural wonders from the land Yay! But, the name of their state was determined from a newspaper contest, in which the winner was awarded a whopping $2, which I’m sure was big money back then.
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Now playing: Jim Morrison – The World on Fire
via FoxyTunes
B.W.’s Update;
So it had to happened! Betty White has hosted SNL! Now the world is aware of what I’ve said for years. Sure the Facebook page will get all the credit for making it happen, but would you have an entire episode filled with the sexual fetish-sizing of an octogenarian without the old Goatfucker here? Seriously they spent the show either talking about her “muffin”, fantasizing about marrying her, or simply implying that she is the object of desire for young men. Now I don’t know what this is saying about the youth of today when the sexiest woman on TV is 88 1/2 years old, but I do believe it means that the times are trending our way. Disaster Culture is becoming chic! Yet in order to stay on the vanguard we must take our sickness to even further depths of depravity. In the coming weeks and months we will be mining the outer reaches of the human sub-conscious for the next brutal wave of Disaster Culture.
Vodpod videos no longer available.
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Now playing: 2K – ***k the Millennium
via FoxyTunes
Apocalypse Vag!
You know you’re old when you start saying things like “kids these days”! But, seriously-what the fuck is going on with kids these days??? I knew years ago that giving little girls cell phones was a bad idea. They had no one to call so they would spend hours with a bedazzler putting cheap looking plastic rhinestones all over their Nokia that their parents got for free when they added a line. Now they’ve gotten a little older and graduated to bedazzling their crotches! The whole craze seems to be sparked by Jennifer Love Hewitt(yes, the Ghost Whisperer), and an appearance she made on the George Lopez Show! I didn’t even know anyone watched the George Lopez Show for one thing. Vajazzaling has quickly become the hot new thing to do amongst the kids, and like all trends is marked by a facebook page. This seems just bizarre but even more bizarre is the fact that the hilarious website Christwire is up in arms about the whole shebang. Claiming (and I quote) “This trend has caused females to resort to patently whorish methods in order to distract young men from their heart’s true desire in college study and become successful.” Because we all know that’s what young men go to college for-riiiiiiiiiggggggghhhhhhttttt!
Dream of a Fishermans…Pants?
As proof positive that Disaster Culture is here, and we Goatfucker.com, are influencing the masses with our insanely popular blog we present to you the Dream of a Fisherman’s Wife jeans by (who else) Red Monkey Company! Their $739.95, so no self-respecting degenerate could afford them, but their out there for the posers.
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Now playing: Sonic Youth – Master-Dik
via FoxyTunes
It’s Hobo Time
With the unemployment rate in America at an all time high (9.7% compared to 4.0% in 2000), and more and more Americans being under-employed (19.7%). Americans young and old are increasingly turning to hoboism. One young man has made a name for himself by posting his hobo adventure online. After being unable to find a job in his chosen profession Daniel Seddiqu became a hobo blogging about how he would work 50 jobs in 50 states. Thanks to internet cafés and public libraries, other hobos are sharing their stories online; giving the rest of us a glimpse into their once secret hobo world. A quick Google search and you can find the secret hieroglyphic language of the Hobo. Sources like Hobo News and Hobo Grapevine are great sources for both the public to be informed about the bindle brotherhood, and for hobos to connect with each other. Hobo News even offers a detailed history of so-called Hobo Kings and Queens. I didn’t even know they had such things. I mean, what would the castle of a Hobo King look like? Answer the world! Hobo’s, along with tramps and other vagabonds have a long and storied history in this country. The American gypsies, they have long been the hidden migrant workers; a hobo is not a bum. Homeless by definition and by choice, the hobo does not shy away from an honest day’s work. They have a code and a since of honor, they even have a National convention held the second weekend every August in Britt, Iowa.
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The Baloney Kid
They have their own musicians, most notably Arlo Guthrie, but there’s also Hobo stars with more colorful (though lesser known names), like Captain Dingo, Baloney Kid, and Hobo Minstrel. As their number increase though some hobos are looking to start something even bigger than a few websites; outside Portland Oregon a group of hobos have established a semi-permanent formally mobile tent city known as Dignity Village. They have set up a board of directors and established a free system that is one of the closest models to working Anarchy inside of the U.S. There even exists a Hobo Museum
Hobo Museum
to commemorate the Hobos struggle in America. The Hobo movement is growing stronger than it has since the Great Depression and the hobo is now more visible than he/she has been since the end of the Civil War when many soldiers returning home began to hop the railways West in search of a better life.
R.I.P. Haim-ster!
In wake of the tragic news that the world today has one less Corey in it I sadly post these three articles I wrote for back in 1996 for Crunchy Magazine (Published by crunchy Music in Greensboro NC). These were written long before the two Corey’s resurfaced when the world was experiencing a vast and dark Corey void. The 80s had only just begun to make a comeback and their revival was nowhere in sight. There was no Surreal Life or Two Corey’s reality show. We had no idea what had become of them All we had were memories and with tongue firmly in cheek I penned these short odes to everything Corey.
Totally Corey!!!
Article One: Why we’re all Goonies!
Article Two: Corey v/s Corey?
Article Three: The Best Corey Flick of All Time!
We are all Goonies; Searching for something that isn’t there anymore, placing all our hopes in a past that isn’t real, fearing what cannot really hurt us. We are all Goonies; Misfit adventurers who live in our own fantasy realms where we are all the heroes. If we are lucky we will be thrust into a real adventure and finally be able to live. Or we will spend our lives chained in front of a television, junk food our only diet, until one day a Goonie will set us free and make us one of them.
We are all Goonies; getting by on luck and old movies. Our lives already acted out before us, long before we were even born. If we only remember where all the booby traps will be, then we’ll be alright. We might even make it on T.V. If we remember how it was done on screen, and play our roles, the bad guys will always get caught. If we have someone up above us watching out, the police will show up just in time to haul them off.
We are all Goonies; if we look deep down inside of us and do what’s right, we will get a kiss or a hug, and discover our true friends along the way. And if we believe hard enough our ship will sail.
We are all Goonies!
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Which Corey did you like the best? Corey Haim, with his mouth open and neatly trimmed hair, prepubescent crackly voice, always unsure, yet always right. Boy next door with his weird friend and back-pack full of comics. He’s always happy and headed for trouble, hyper and full of beans.
Or do you like bad boy Corey Feldman? Feldman with his long hair always draped over just one eye, (which is often covered by shades day or night). Sweet, charming, and up to something. The kid who is always “just hanging out”, yet you know he is going to get you into trouble.
Your mom would like you to hang out with Haim more. He could help you with your Algebra. He could take you to the cabin with his rich ass parents. She would trust him. Your dad would warn you about Feldman. He would frown when he came over. He would say things like “Don’t you have any other friends?”, or “Doesn’t he have a home?” Feldman would convince you to steal candy from the corner store. He would keep you out past curfew, and give you your first beer, then hit you on the back and make you choke.
Haim would be there if you ever got caught in a jam, while Feldman would be the one to get you into that jam. Though Feldman would point his finger at you and go click-click and say “You owe me one”, Haim would just ask if you were okay and invite you back to his parents for hot co-co.
If you’re the type of person who likes to drive safely and kiss your mom on the forehead before you go to school each morning, then this Corey is for you. 
If you’re the type of person who likes a little danger and excitement, and would outright like to piss your parents off then this is the Corey for you.
Either way, if you get one Corey, you inevitably get them both. Because as anyone in Hollywood can tell you one Corey is good but two Corey’s is even better!
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What is the best Corey movie? It is so hard to choose just one. They starred in so many classics together and separate. Feldman has “The Goonies”, “Stand by me”, and “The Burbs” (with Tom Hanks). Haim has “Lucas” and “First Born”. Together they have “License to Drive”, “Last Resort”, “Dream a Little Dream”, and of course the timeless “Lost Boys”. They were so talented, so amazing in each and every performance it’s hard to pick just one.
The Corey’s are such a part of our childhood growing up in the eighties, their movies were constantly on rotation on Cinemax and HBO, or one of those UHF Saturday matinees (UHF were the Channels beyond 12 in the pre-cable days kids). We all grew up with the two of them. They were as much a part of our lives as Loony Tunes and You can’t Do That on Television, as timeless and ageless as Red Foxx or Cap’N’Crunch.
They gave to us their teenage years, and what have we given them but an adulthood in obscurity, rehab and of course The Viper Room. The Corey’s were so special, not because of their considerable dramatic range (they basically played the same two guys in all of their films), but because they played us! I mean whether you were the shy kid afraid of Vampires and the world, or a bad-ass who killed Vampires, but was still afraid of the world-there was a Corey for you to relate to. If you were into comics (Lost Boys), old movies (Goonies), or really-really into Michael Jackson (Dream a Little Dream). No matter how old I get or how cool I like to think I am I know deep down I will never be as cool, anti-jock, anti-hero, anti-old, or anything in between as the Corey’s were. Even in the Tom Hanks Classic “The Burbs” Feldman represented me, and I mimicked him, the smart-ass, wise-acre, boy next door stirring up mischief in the neighborhood, until the neighbors house blows up.
Sure “The Breakfast Club” said it all first, and “Some Kind of Wonderful” made it even clearer. That was for our older siblings and the Baby sitters generation. For us it was the “Goonies” that defined it all. Too bad it only featured one Corey. Even though John Cusack’s movies (“Better off Dead”, “One Crazy Summer”) showed us how to live outside the norm-nothing and I mean nothing drove it home like the Corey classic “Dream a Little Dream”! When they’re on the football field and the titular song is playing and everything is moving in slow motion, that is the best! You can keep all your Tim Curry flicks, John Hughs classics and Tom Hank’s movies, great as they may be. They got nothing on a Saturday afternoon filled with Corey films and cereal.
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