Discordian Research Technology

The world is at peace, nobody is exhibiting psychopathic tendencies, the environment and economy are in top notch shape, and there’s a chicken in every pot. In fact, the only interesting thing happening anywhere is my severe case of writer’s block. And that’s not terribly interesting, I know. What’s a discordian to do under these horrible conditions? Compute pi, of course.

Oh, and Eris has been spotted in the form of a 15 year old girl from the planet Arhka.

(Thanks to MonkeyFilter for the tasty hot dog pi.)

I believe I am a badger. Furthermore, I believe that all the “people” around me are badgers too and that we were all created in the image of the Ürbadger. No one has ever been able to prove that I don’t believe this. However, for interactions with people who believe they are humans, and who seem skeptical, I’ve found it wise to adopt the comforting fiction that I am a member of that peculiar and imaginary species. It’s only polite, after all, and it diminishes our essential badgerhood not one whit.

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One of my favorite Bible stories, in which God conclusively and unambiguously demonstrates that He is a total dick in league with Lucifer. Or, alternatively, that He doesn’t exist.

A friend who has been, like, working in Europe for a number of years now made, as friends are wont to do, an offhand remark. He was talking about American speech idioms that were invisible to him while he lived here, but stick out like a sore thumb when he visits after, like, a prolonged absence. His chief complaint was the word “like” when used as, like, slang. He was all like “Americans say it all the time and it sounds inane.” I chuckled sympathetically and the conversation wandered, but the comment, like, stuck in my neuronal mass like lint on velcro.

That was, of course, when I started noticing that I say the word like a lot. Or do I? Perhaps I never said it much before, but now that he planted the seed, its roots have, like, lodged deep into my mind. Annoying as it is, it may not be a bad thing. It might be, like, a step forward in the evolution of English.

Squirrel Gardens, the song, by Quintron & Miss Pussycat, is a cryptic tale of squirrels run rampant. Though they have successfully had a major landmark named after them, possibly in a misguided effort at appeasement, they are unaware that an eel dressed in a squirrel costume lurks in their midst. Will it strike, and possibly eat them? Will they emerge victorious, once again? We never find out. There is no closure.

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Executive Summary

It is enthymemetic to the arguments in favor of supply side economic policies that a certain percentage of the “winners” will engage in consumption patterns that are traditionally considered foolish, self-destructive and/or wasteful. Overall national prosperity depends on this. Studies in recent years, however, have shown a marked decline in these ultimately useful spending habits. This has led to an excessive concentration of wealth in the hands of people who are not only idiots, but engaged in the false thrift of resisting the natural progress of penthouse to pavement. They are selfishly abstemious and over-securitized. They needn’t remain that way.

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