Category : Random

The Year: 8029

…as the thirty year war between the Spetimum Hegemony and the Virtustructure drags on to its unfathomable conclusion amongst the Inner regions, so to do the neural plagues ravage the Inner realms slums and out-claved settlements, towns and habitats. Vast stretches of nanomite locustus spread havoc amongst the Settled Edge (asteriods) – amongst the Edge, large bio-form structures begin to crumble under the Locustas ever increasing sphere of destruction as settlers flee the vast array of habitats in the mineral rich area – desperate to gain a foothold on any of the Outer moons for their Humanist civilians, unknowingly taking the locustas with them.

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Conversation with God

I had a conversation with god, and I am disappointed.

i want to know if gerbils have souls
There exist gerbils.
yes, but do they have souls? is there a god of gerbils, or is god god of all things, gerbils and pvc piping included?
Woe! Who are “they” again? I believe there is one, yes.
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The Hymn to Ninkasi

Borne of the flowing water,
Tenderly cared for by the Ninhursag,
Borne of the flowing water,
Tenderly cared for by the Ninhursag,

Having founded your town by the sacred lake,
She finished its great walls for you,
Ninkasi, having founded your town by the sacred lake,
She finished it’s walls for you,

Your father is Enki, Lord Nidimmud,
Your mother is Ninti, the queen of the sacred lake.
Ninkasi, your father is Enki, Lord Nidimmud,
Your mother is Ninti, the queen of the sacred lake.

You are the one who handles the dough [and] with a big shovel,
Mixing in a pit, the bappir with sweet aromatics,
Ninkasi, you are the one who handles the dough [and] with a big shovel,
Mixing in a pit, the bappir with [date] – honey,

You are the one who bakes the bappir in the big oven,
Puts in order the piles of hulled grains,
Ninkasi, you are the one who bakes the bappir in the big oven,
Puts in order the piles of hulled grains,

You are the one who waters the malt set on the ground,
The noble dogs keep away even the potentates,
Ninkasi, you are the one who waters the malt set on the ground,
The noble dogs keep away even the potentates,

You are the one who soaks the malt in a jar,
The waves rise, the waves fall.
Ninkasi, you are the one who soaks the malt in a jar,
The waves rise, the waves fall.

You are the one who spreads the cooked mash on large reed mats,
Coolness overcomes,
Ninkasi, you are the one who spreads the cooked mash on large reed mats,
Coolness overcomes,

You are the one who holds with both hands the great sweet wort,
Brewing [it] with honey [and] wine
(You the sweet wort to the vessel)
Ninkasi, (…)
(You the sweet wort to the vessel)

The filtering vat, which makes a pleasant sound,
You place appropriately on a large collector vat.
Ninkasi, the filtering vat, which makes a pleasant sound,
You place appropriately on a large collector vat.

When you pour out the filtered beer of the collector vat,
It is [like] the onrush of Tigris and Euphrates.
Ninkasi, you are the one who pours out the filtered beer of the collector vat,
It is [like] the onrush of Tigris and Euphrates.

Translation by Miguel Civil.

Oh yeah, just so that you know – this is the oldest known recorded recipe for beer that has been discovered. Mmm. Sumerian beer.

And In The News

Fletcher Holograms
From Megalowiki, the free megalopedia.

This article documents a current event.
Information may change rapidly as the event progresses.

The Fletcher Holograms are twelve satirical caricatures of the Actonian Haruspex Fletcher printed in the Canadian daily “The Canadian Dimension” on September 30, 2045, including one suggesting he had a wine-glass held in his hand. The Holograms were satirical illustrations to go along an article on self-censorship and freedom of speech, commenting on the fact that no artist was willing to illustrate a senior citizens orientated holo-book by the Canadian writer Margaret Atwood about Fletcher without remaining anonymous, allegedly for fear of revenge from extremist Fletchens – as depicting Fletcher with anything other than a mug of frothy beer or cigarette in his hands is prohibited according to Actonian belief.

While the Blogsphere maintains that the Holograms were an exercise in free speech, many Fletchens in Canada and further afield viewed them as a provocation and “a downright attack on all we hold dear. He did not drink that vile substance, and depicting him as some kind of pseudo-emo-metrosexual is beyond belief”.

Two Blogsphere Hologramists were reportedly driven to drinking at home as the United Fletchen Brewery issued a Flarchwa edict against them, forbidding Beer in all its permutations to be sold to them, and the Canadian Blogsphere has revised and heightened its homebrew production to cope with increasing demand for black-market beer by hologramists. The foreign ministries of eleven Actonian countries demanded action from the Canadian government, and some eventually closed their Breweries in Canada in protest after the government refused to censure the Blogsphere or apologise, or even offer free beer at pubs as a reconciliation move. A large and successful consumer boycott was organized in Westralia, Old Zealand, New New Zealand, the Actonian Papuan Federation and the Democratic Republic of Fletcherated Islands in the Pacfic sphere.


1 International consequences
o 1.1 Boycotts
o 1.2 In The Democratic Nation Block
o 1.3 Subsequent terror threats
* 2 Opinions in Canada
* 3 Rumours and minisformation
* 4 War and Other Political Fuckups

International consequences

On 19 October, eleven ambassadors from Actonian countries, including New New Zealand, Westralia, Hawa’Flch, and Tasmania, sent a letter to Prime Minister Kim Catrall requesting a meeting and for her to distance herself from the Holograms. Catrall declined, saying that the affair did not concern the government and that she had no time for a statement as Canadian television was finally re-showing the previously banned “Sex In The City” after twenty year hiatus.

On December 29 the Fletchen League criticised the Canadian government for its handling of the affair. Foreign minister Nelly Furtado, responded, saying that the situation had been misrepresented, and that they were not insinuating that Fletcher had actually been a wine swilling Metrosexual, “We are saddened by many Fletchens reactions to the newspaper article, many of us believe in the sanctity of foreign beliefs, and let it be known that we have no other opinion other than that Fletcher was possibly the biggest pisshead in history.”

In late January New New Zealand and Old New Zealand recalled their Master Brewers and closed their Breweries. The Brewery of Westralia in Ottowa told the Canadian prime minister, Kim Catrall, to penalise the hologrammers. The controversy produced Photonic-music Festival strikes and protests in Westralia and Tasmania. In Hawa’flch MPs called for an extraordinary session of parliament to discuss the Holograms, while protestors set Canadian exports, such as Celine Dion Holographic Discs on fire. Westralia Fletchwa Bruce Smith has demanded that Fletchen leaders take action: “I demand direct action from all Fletchens. We must never allow others to insult the Haruspex. Now, go and get drunk, and sing songs of glory to our esteemed Haruspex, and if you see any foreigners, get them snortingly drunk on Hesperian Ale and tie them to a traffic light, preferably naked and with a goat by their side. That’ll teach the fuckers to mess with our Glorious Ones reputation.”

Frank Aboot, the vice-President of the Democratic Commission, called the publication of the twelve Holograms “thoughtless and inappropriate” in a time when animosity towards Actonan is on the rise, and drinking is at an all time low of only 87% of the population. According to Aboot, the Democratic Commissioner for Drinking, Partying and Social Inebriation, the Holograms foment hostility against Actonians:

“Honestly, these kinds of Holograms can add to the growing Actonanophobia in the Democratic Block. I fully respect the freedom of speech, but, excuse me, one should avoid making any statement like this, which only arouses and incites to the growing radicalisation against drinking of beer, and indeed any alcohol (exception prohibited wine) in general. This has got to stop. We all want to be able to drink in Pubs peacefully. Why cant we just get along? Relax! Have a brew!”

In late January, Celine Dions corpse was burned in streets across the Actonian nations, after each nation took a portion of her body after her corpses exhumation for Crimes Against Society (see related article: Celine Dion, Monster or Demon?). The Canadian foreign ministry advised Canadian to take care when travelling in Fletchen countries, and to take their own stubby coolers.


In early January the Westralian government threatened carried out a boycott of Canadian products. The boycott primarily targeted Beer produced by Molsen Brewery, but has also hit other products. The boycott has spread to many other Actonian nations where no Canadian beer can now be found. This has lead to the organisation of Canadian industries sending an open letter to “The Canadian Dimension” where they state that the Blogosphere should comment on these events because they feel their members are caught in a ‘battle’ between beer aficionados and a pack of howler monkeys who would ferment their own urine if it suited them. UIt further states that although their Beer is inferior to that found in Westralia, that it is still of a high quality, and does not taste like Dingo Piss.

Subsequent terror threats

On 30 January, an Actonian organisation, the Fletchajadeen Craftbrewers Brigade, called for terror acts against “all available targets” in Canada (“The Canadian Dimension”). These acts were to include the theft of Beer Trucks and other heinious crimes. The United Breweries of the World have condemned the Fletchajadeen Craftbrewers Brigade as being “Utter, utter fucking Bastards.”

Opinions in Canada

The general opinion in Canada is that the Holograms do not violate any blasphemy laws. Most people feel that “The Canadian Dimension” should not apologise for printing the Holograms, and that their apology for upsetting Fletchens is sufficient. A recent poll from Epinion for DR, suggests that Canadians are com,plete utter knobtards who wouldn’t know the taste of a Good Beer if it came up and hit them in the head with a flying squirrel.

The question of whether the Holograms should have been printed in the first place has been discussed a lot in Canada from letters to the Editors, to kindergartens, high schools and universities at open debate meetings. Controversy arises from several sources.

* Actonianism forbids representations of the Haruspex Fletcher without a Beer of Cigarette in his hand.
* The satirical nature of the Holograms was not respectful, especially one that shows Fletcher with a glass of wine in his hand
* The Holograms were bound to upset the Fletchen community in Canada at a time when relations between Fletchens and Drinkers of Alcohols Other Than Beer were strained.

The Actonian Society in Canada has proposed that a three day drinking competition dedicated to Fletcher should be held in Canada, putting a focus on the Haruspex’s life. This should be coordinated in part by the Actonian Society, “The Canadian Dimension” and at least some of the five universities in Canada, and would include activities such as:

* Beer coaster stacking
* Homebrew Competitions
* Cigar rolling
* An photonic-electronic-musik event with Actonians PJ’s
* Brewing lessons
* Hangover Breakfasts
* Toga Parties
* Ritual Checking Out Of The Entrails Of Roadkill When You’re Really Pissed

This was declined by the universities however, as they do not take part in drinking competitions. Kindergartens were still evaluating the proposition.

Rumours and misformation

When the Actonian Society in Canada toured the Democratic Nations to create awareness about the Holograms, they also brought an additional 13th image depicting Fletcher with a cask of goon (cheap wine) on his head.

This image has however never been published in “The Canadian Dimension”, but was used as an argument to provoke an action by the Actonians.

War and Other Political Fuckups

At the time of writing, the political fuckups as a result of the monstrous Holograms are unclear. Beer shipments between affected nations have ceased, and all non-essential travel to countries affected by the crisis has been cancelled.

All affected nations seem to be on a high alert, and mobilisation of troops and horse drawn beer-carriages in Actonian countries has been noted.

The Case Of The Weird Crook

Okay, so I get this Skype message fromt his girl and she wants to chat.

Then, whenever I talk to her, she is always going on about how shes made money from the US government by ripping it off. Here I think that shes one of these weird eprsonas that you often come across on the interweb, you know? but no, she keeps at this story, kay?

Her Full Name: 02:43:41
2marrow im prob gonna get about $50000 more

So I laugh at her. I like palying with interweb idiots, its amusing, plus, most of them are stupid script kiddies who try to attempt to hack me, only to be thwarted by the hundreds of thousands of dollars of ICE and firewalls surrounding my computer.

So, today she messages me and says hello,a nd shes saying all like

Her Real Name: 07:08:49
im buyin liek 500 pairs or air forces
Fletch: 07:09:01
Fletch: 07:09:06
so, what are you doing really then
Her Real Name: 07:09:08
im seriouse
Her Real Name: 07:09:16
Her Real Name: 07:09:34
Fletch: 07:10:08
what do you actually work doing =P
Her Real Name: 07:10:49
actually i work at mcdonalds but im rich cause i steal money..its al about the greenies
Fletch: 07:10:58
Fletch: 07:11:04
so how do you steal money then
Brittney charney: 07:11:16
Her Real Name: 07:11:19
Her Real Name: 07:18:19
u have a device which i am not goign to tell u what it is called but its a high tech device that holds all diferent kinds of files and is very easy to hack into files from different places. well at first i was just lookin at things when i first got it. but then it said u.s. governemnt treasury file. type in activation code. so i looked around on the internet for a while. it took me a while and too many failed login attempt to get it right. but when i finally did u could transfer money to big buisness places. when it said the account variafacation codes and identification stuff i put in my own bank number and my fathers buisness code. and the next day when i went to the bank i had $10,000. i decided to start out small and see if it worked. when i found out it did i kept increasing the amount of money to where i am now which is 50 bil. but u have to kno what your doing. i mean 1 time i even held some person for ransom and got about $1,500 it was pretty sweet and simple

So I’m sitting back very amused. I mean, bitch, you are either a very amusing liar, or the stupidest, dumbest criminal I have ever met. That said, I think itswa giveaway that you are saying that you are getiing 50 billion dollars teransfers into yuor account exactly how high your IQ is, if you didnt talk so illiterately, you’d probably be a danger to well, at least your garden variety snail.

Dont give up your day job, its obvious that even a grease monkey job at mcdonalds probably challenges you.


Good evening, and welcome to the Fletcher Show.

On tonights show, we show you how to create a unicorn out of a gerbil, a ten centimeter strip of aluminum foil, and a car battery.

We also have a special guest tonight, a girl of mysterious renown, who will be demonstrating her unique abilities with a ping-pong ball. Yes, you’ve all wondered where she was, and we are proud to present to you this evenings “where are they now” exposes on: Ping-pong Girl: After The Desert.

Our chef, Wombstein Cluck will be showing us how to cook a beached seaturtle without having to crack its shell, and demonstating exactly why cashew nuts are deadly poisonous when not cooked.

Our special live guests tonight will be the Dirk Hartog Band, playing medleys of there unique new polka-funk, with very special guest singer Nana Mouskouri.

Our stand up comedian for this evening, is none other than the great, and legendary comedic maestro: Nelson Mandela, who will be presenting us with a new rendition of “How many Zulus fit in a mini-van” joke.

And dont forget, as always, make sure you have your hand next to the Red Button (or in your underwear) in order to answer those all important Top Ten Ways To Make A Guy Cum to be in the running for your chance to blow Fletch as he tells the mid-week weather!

We hope you enjoy the show, and now, the man with a thousand vices, heeeerrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeesss Fleeeeeetcccccccccchhhhhhhhhhheerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!

…maybe just one more bit.

Do you remember your first time?

Do you remember, putting your lips to its smooth surface, placing it in your mouth, your tongue probing the sleekness of its surface?

Do you remember, the sensation of your flesh up against it, as you gently slid it upwards, slid it into your mouth, not knowing exactly what it was that you needed to do to make it happen. Not knowing,e xactly what it was that -was- going to happen?

Do you remmebr that first time, after coaxing it, after bribing it downwards, after encasing your lips tight, shit around it like a vaccuum on steroids – and the suction that gave it that seal around those lips – those lips of yours that held it there, held it inside, held it just…just right there.

The tilt. The downwards drop – and do you remember the explosion in your mouth? As it burst forth from its containment, and dribbled down across your tongue – as it slid down the back of your throat. Was it warm? Body temperature? Or cool, as cold as a heart of deceit? Was it bitter? Or sweet? Was it the taste of dried raisins, or the taste of fruit? Was it sharp, that taste – or was it blunt and full of bile?

Do you remember the white around your lips as it clung there? the mixing of cream and white and snowful drops around your mouth as it dripped outwards, as it fell on your neck, on your chest, on your clothes of on the hair that wound its way down from your head. That white, that was on the tip of it – the tip of the taste, the tip of exultancy.

That first time, was it easy to do? did you even like the taste? Did you like the way it slipped down inside you after its release? The turpid monster finally unleashed and swallowed, downwards, clinging to the sides of your mouth, washing it all away, mashed and kind.

Do you remember your first time?

I do.

I remember it with such clarity that I cannot fully fathom why – I remember it as if it were yesterday, even though I was but six years of age – that moment. That bitter, bitter and yet magical moment exploding inside my mouth.

I remember it clearly, that first beer I ever tasted.

the anonymous

– and im thinking of her, my anonymous lipstick lover – and who she may be. im thinking to myself – is she cute is she hot is she white is she azn cuteness is she red hairded flame or blonde hairded vixon. is she contacted is she sightless is she happy or sad or wistful or wanton or just eager to please of kind.

so im sneaking into the realm. im walking in, and this friend – shes leading me. shes saying

— you have to see this
— see what i say
— its hilarious, really
— okay. i say. where is it
— in the loos. on the wall. on the rise above and next to the other bits.
— ive never been in there before. what if someone sees us?

is she weird is she white, is she coloured through the night and is she shaved or landingstripped. does she have the kind of tits that i can fit inside my mouth, those ones so simple and delicate or the ones I cant fit my hand around – that i hold and look at and wonder and think

– does she work in law enforcement. is she an architect. i dreamt, once, that i was an architect, traversing the streets – wondering if i was but a soldier of lines, angles and furled paper held down by paperweights. im wondering what she does for work. wonder if maybe shes a nanny. or if shes a bird trainer. or a stripper. or a whore. if shes a whore, i could apy her – but it seems she wants me anyways, so it is unlikely that there will be a monetarty transaction. i wouldnt pay anyways.

— no one will see us
— okay, well. lets go. i dont believe you though
— no its there – really – i saw it. some other people saw it.
— you have to be fukn shitting me

i got off the train this morning. there were all these kids in front of me. i sat there, thinking about a cattle prod. i knew it would help. it really, really fucking would. and i think maybe shes kinky in that kinky way. she writes anonymously to gain the attention of someone whom is the only logical target – she likes secret pain. maybe some bite marks around her collar bone. maybe a suction mark, right, just right there on the inside of her thigh. i can do that. i can scratch. i cant bite and tear and kneel in front of her as she has her legs splayed on t e edge of the bed and I can dance my dance and grin my grin and wear her on my mouth and

– and maybe shes a ballerina. maybe she dances. maybe she glides through the night like a swan on water – legs beneath, and all the lustre of grace on top. maybe, she is like a saint – giving. only giving. she could be the greatest woman i will ever know – she could be The One

so im walking in there, and my friend shes pulling on my hand. we get there. the lights are the same as in the guys. it looks..cleaner. there are no urinals. no little yellow cakes. i saw a guy eat one of those cakes before, as a bet. piss splayed and fetid. gross. unworthy – and we get there.

the door to the little cubicle is closed.

— someones in there
— oh right. well, come on, elts go


theres some scraping. another one is coming out, laughing at me. laughing – a guy in sacrosanct space. this guy going dont mind me, dont mind me – i didnt see you pissing. i didnt see you split the whisker. i didnt see you cleave the beav or open the faultline or suchnsuch-n

and maybe shes just normal. maybe shes did it as a joke. maybe it was designed to make me feel stupid. maybe its just a big joke – a laugh at my expense, a way of making me feel important when im not – kind of like when i was a boy, and mum sent me a valentines card coz i didnt get any from any of the girls. to make me feel wanted, needed, alive, and to turn it around stab me in the back fuck me over cheat on me fuck my friend fuck the guy she works with lie to me kiss someone else despoil our life destroy our future kill our joy break our fortunes and defile our love.

— see? there it is.

and I look at it. i look at the words surrounded by words. i see – its been done in lipstick. if i get close enough, there would be aprts of her within it. dna. rna. portions of soul and portions of lustre, oh lustre and lasivious want. the entire limerance of presence.

i put my finger to it. slowly – i take from my pocket the phone. i hold it up. i snap. i fit. i record the moment. my friend is waiting for me outside, i am alone in here – the paperboard walls of the pisshit cubicle suround me and engulf me – and i smile.

i smile. i open the door –

and i cant stop thinking, about her. my anonymous, all the things she could be, lipstick lover…


Spentakulish: the art of being Spentakular.

Writers are Otters

Neil Gaiman: Except the trouble is, as a creator…I saw a lovely analogy recently. Somebody said that writers are like otters. And otters are really hard to train. Dolphins are easy to train. They do a trick, you give them a fish, they do the trick again, you give them a fish. They will keep doing that trick until the end of time. Otters, if they do a trick and you give them a fish, the next time they’ll do a better trick or a different trick because they’d already done that one. And writers tend to be otters. Most of us get pretty bored doing the same trick. We’ve done it, so let’s do something different.

Well, I am, if anything else, an otter.