Thursday, 22 January 2009

Wurble wurble wurble.

Random brainsplurge:

I love that Obama had to do the swearing-in ceremony a second time in private, just in case any pedantic fucker (yo) claimed he wasn’t reeeeally Prez on account of getting a word wrong the first time round.

(Given that certain sticky Republican Types already attempted to prove that he's not really American, and therefore not eligible for the Presidency, this isn't as unlikely as it sounds.)

Technically, the repeat of the ceremony means that the precision of the Oath motto (not the sentiment, which remains the same regardless of the order you say the bloody words) is more important than the most powerful man in the world.

If, as I suspect, oft-repeated word-combinations are in fact astral vehicles for the Meme-beings of Traal – extra-dimensional parasites which feed upon the relative belief/importance placed upon them by human minds – the USA Inauguration Oath is surely the King.

(Catchy pop songs, for instance, are the kamikaze pilots of the Traal Collective, who live fast and burn-out young).

Obviously the Traal's most bitter enemies are the Mahazu'u race of Sentient Symbols, who similarly infect the minds of humans and feed off their own importance. Logos, signatures, letters. That bloody Nike swoosh. My suspicion is that their leader is none other than the Cock And Balls drawing, which flows effortlessly from the pen of any human male - without conscious thought - the instant a piece of paper is placed before him.

Naturally, we must defeat the Traal and the Mahazu'u (just look at The Artist Formerly Known as the Artist Formerly Known As Prince, if you're looking for symptoms of Being Possessed By A Malignant Symbol) in order to truly become masters of our own astral destiny. DO NOT FEED THE MEME PARASITES.

REWRITE, RE-RITE, RE-RIGHT.

‘Scuse me. I didn’t get much sleep.


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P.S: I got engaged. I am now officially Happier Than You.