Relationships

  I no longer see myself as ever being involved in a relationship. This is primarily because I don't exist as far as women are concerned. They don't view me as a potential partner so I don't waste the time pursuing them. I don't need that much rejection in my life. I've pretty much come to grips with fact that I'm unappealing to them. I figure every women that has ever laid eyes on me shot me down inside a few seconds.
  This means that I'm going to be spending a lot of time by myself. Nothing new, I've gotten used to being by myself. I've gone to movies alone, the Ren Faire alone. I've even attended Gen Con alone. This is my life, welcome to it.
  Being alone also means no sex life. Again nothing new. Want to hear a bit of stunning news? Ever hear of the 40 Year Old Virgin? Add almost 11 years and you've got me, the guy no woman wants to touch. Yay. This is result of a lifetime of being told by people that I was a nobody. The number of friends I had as a teenager could be counted on one hand even if two fingers were cut off. It's taken me a long time to acquire what little social life I have. My lack of extensive interaction with women has left me socially and emotionally stunted when it comes to them. Throw in some hard wired fetishes acquired over the years and my chances of having a meaningful relationship with a woman asymptotically approaches nonexistence. I debated releasing this bit of news because of who might end up reading it but then I thought "Who fucking cares?". It's unlikely that anyone I know will ever read this blog and if they did, so what? I really doubt that any of this will be all that new to them.
  Hell there are times I'm amazed that I have any friends at all. I'm amazed anyone bothers to read the poetry I've posted here and on Deviant Art. I actually have two watchers on Deviant Art. Two. Will wonders never cease? And three YouTube subscribers. People follow me on Twitter. How is it that someone so insignificant in the grand scheme of things has people reading his insane little rants? Anyone reading this who cares to weigh in on this matter can feel free to drop me a line via the comments portion of this blog.
  That's all for now. This is the Right Reverend Mike, Head Honcho and sole member of the Fellowship of The Eternal Dobbs Pipe Clench, signing off.

The Fox Propaganda Network

  The Fox "News" network is little more than a bunch of propagandists working for Rupert Murdoch. He tells his little monkeys who he doesn't like and they hurl their verbal feces at them. They're the real world version of Orwell's Ministry of Truth. They're liars, sociopaths and hypocrites. They talk about American values while spreading their message of hate and bigotry. Their version of freedom is everyone thinking and acting like them. They undermine legitimate science in their efforts to ram their religious beliefs down everyone's throats. They manipulate their largely ignorant audience into buying the poisonous swill they're peddling. And what's worse is they have the unmitigated gall to whine when the other legitimate news services call them on their lies. That's Fox "News", the tabloid rag of network news.

Violence

Violence

Violence is golden

Or so man has thought

Since days that are olden

To those that are not.

Violence is power

Or so we believe.

The thought makes one cower

On one’s very knees.

It sickens my heart

To see so noble a race

Fallen to ruin and abject disgrace.

Suicide

Suicide

Jumping out a window.

Slitting one’s own wrists.

Sometimes people do this

When the pain of life persists.

Committing hara kiri,

Taking sleeping pills.

That’s just two sure fire ways

Of curing all life’s ills.

Hanging at the end of a rope

Or a bullet through the head.

Life will just keep going on

Until we are all dead.

R'lyeh

R’lyeh

Hidden in the ocean’s depths

Away from human eyes.

A city lies beneath the waves

Away from starlit skies.

Few men have ever seen this isle

And gone away still sane.

The angles there work on the mind

And try to warp your brain.

At the top, a great door sits

As the entry to a tomb.

But it would be more correct to say

That it’s Great Cthulhu’s womb.

When the stars are right again

Cthulhu will be free.

And he will then rule all the world

In perverse depravity.

So if some day you’re on a boat

Enjoying the light of day.

Perhaps you’d like to visit him

In the corpse city of R’lyeh.

Revenant: An Easter Sunday of Sorts

Revenant: An Easter Sunday of Sorts

Life? Unlife.

Dead? Undead.

After three days on the inverted cross

My undead eyes again see

The world that crucified me for my nonconformity.

Pain? No pain.

Love? No, hate.

Slowly I struggle to pull myself free

So I can get my revenge.

I will track them down and slaughter them all.

My beliefs I will avenge.

Peace? No, war.

Hell? Heaven.

My revenant now stalks the land

With only just one goal.

To show them the error of their ways

As this servant of death takes his toll.

Rebuttal: The Infernal Diatribe

Rebuttal: The Infernal Diatribe

Listen pious hypocrites

To the pronouncement of your foes.

Too long has mankind suffered

Your madness, torment and woe.

You inflict death and pain

 In the most holy name of God.

We of the left hand path

Find your behavior rather odd.

You declare all pleasures

To be the vilest of sins.

Not to be indulged lest

The torment of Hell begins.

You speak your pious lies

And at us you point the finger.

So none of your flock will notice

That corruption, around you, lingers.

You call Satan the accuser

And that he certainly shall be!

Your lying ways shall be exposed

For all the world to see!

Your time in the light is fading.

And it’s easy to understand why.

Your brainwashed slaves are revolting

And they will make you die!

Psyanide

Psyanide

Numbing poison can’t stay sane.

It’s gnawing, gnawing at my brain.

A cure I cannot seem to find

To start the healing of my mind.

Depression, anger, fear and hate

My feelings I cannot relate.

I feel so cut off and alone.

This feeling numbing to the bone.

I want to escape from this hell

Before hearing my death knell.

So running, running off I go.

Where my mind is, I don’t know.

Finally gasping my last breath

I found serenity in death.

And when you ask them how I died

 They’ll tell you it was psyanide.

Padded Cell Modes of Thought

Padded Cell Modes of Thought

Protection in extremis

Lest we think and not obey.

Limit

Scarify

Debone

Narrow the parameters.

Thoughtcrime interruptus.

Regulate

Censor

Expunge

Out of sight, out of mind.

Think not for yourself.

Pare down

Eliminate

Remove

Padded cells of thought

Lock us away from reality.

One Life

One Life

Born

Used

Abused

Denied

Rejected

Ignored

Angry

Resentful

Depressed

Suicidal

Dead

Buried

The End

Jack the Ripper

Jack the Ripper

Jack the Ripper lived in London

Late in the 1880’s.

He was known throughout the land

As the killer of scarlet ladies.

He roamed the streets in dead of night

Giving harlots such a fright

Before they died beneath his knife.

Catherine Eddowes, “Long Liz” Stride

Many others also died

When they met with Jack the Ripper.

Jack the Ripper, Jack the Ripper

With his knife so sharp.

Had a touch more delicate

Than one who plays the harp.

Who is he, this mastermind?

It won’t be known for the rest of time.

Irrational Fear

Irrational Fear

Little Miss Muffet

Sat on a tuffet

Eating veal and drinking Dry Sack.

Along came a spider

That sat down beside her.

She died of a heart attack.

Jack was nimble.

Jack was quick.

Jack avoided all candlesticks.

His friends made him jump it

As part of a joke.

The candle fell over.

They went up in smoke.

Humpty Dumpty didn’t delight

In going up to very great heights.

One day he decided to conquer his fear.

He fell down and died from the uppermost tier.

Holier Than Thou (Righteous Indignation)

Holier than Thou (Righteous Indignation)

We the righteous, the God fearing

Are here to pass judgment on you.

 We will decide what is right and wrong

And determine what’s false and true.

To keep you from committing sins

We’ve taken away all choice.

When we educate you our way

Only our opinions you’ll voice.

All things we find offensive

We’ll burn up or we’ll smash

And throw it in a sewage pit

With all the rest of the trash.

Do not ever question us

And remember, judge us not.

Or as sure as there is Heaven and Earth

Your soul, in Hell, will rot.

Gwar

Gwar

A vigintillion years ago

The Master took a shit.

His excrement he gathered nigh.

Our universe he made from it.

When it came time to wipe his ass

He cleansed his hole with war.

 The scumdogs cloned to do the job

Were a mighty band called Gwar.

Plasma cannons at the ready

 The scumdogs stormed ahead.

A juggernaut of mass destruction.

Whole systems wound up dead.

Afraid of their increasing power,

 The Master had them banished.

Sent to far off distant world

Where they all but vanished.

For many countless centuries,

They trod upon the Earth.

And from fucking all the goddamn apes,

To the human race, gave birth.

For this, and many other things,

They were encased in ice.

But from their dark and frozen tomb,

They steeped mankind in vice.

Then glamfags with their aerosol

Played a most important role.

By destroying lots of ozone,

In the sky, they made a hole.

Once thawed out, they chanced to find,

A human in their lair.

It was Sleazy P. Martini

Entrepreneur extraordinaire.

With promises of drugs and sex

He formed a metal band.

And with guitars a thrashing

They stormed out across the land.

To gather all the souls they need

Their fans they have to kill.

And turn the souls to turd bricks

Until, the anal cave they fill.

When the anal cave can hold no more

With a rumble much like thunder,

The World Maggot will come to life

And rip the world asunder.

Riding upon the Maggot’s back

To the heavens, Gwar will fly.

And when they find the Master

His anus they’ll deep fry.

Dying Inside

Dying Inside

It started out when I was young

And slowly took its toll.

Like a cancer it began

The necrosis of my soul.

All feelings of compassion killed

By bitterness and hate.

My capacity to love

 Was rendered insensate.

Truth and honesty don’t exist.

They’ve simply eroded away.

All that’s left now is a void

And the putrid stench of decay.

My soul’s dead. My body lives.

But neither one can rest in peace.

No quiescence can be found.

The torment simply will not cease.

The necrosis of my soul

Has made my life so depraved

That I can’t wait to join it

In some ignominious grave.

Another Little Prayer

Another Little Prayer

Now you’re lying down asleep.

Your soul is mine. The rest you keep.

And if you die before you wake

The rest I will most surely take.