"When the time is ready I shall send my only son to the earth to show them how to laugh."

The Grand Whazoo.*

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And lo it came to pass that The Grand Whazoo did send his only son to earth. And you can join him in his quest to make the world giggle by joining him by clicking here.

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Family Friendly.
No service charge.
Tuesday is ladies night.
Special drinks promotions all week.
Happy hour all day.
Students of philosophy welcome.
Biker friendly.
No Scientists.
Please tip your waitress.
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*During an acceptance speech for "Best god in a humourous role" award during the realm of gods, deitys and martyrs awards ceremony held at the Valhalla Holiday Inn. **

**(Tell them Marty sent you for a special reduction in rates.)

Go on, you know you want to...

You do, admit it.

You want to know why the blog ain't been updated as much as it usually is. Well, it's like this...

Last week I stumbled into one of my deeply introspective moods (More then likely brought on by a massive intake of little-brown-stick-icky) and began questioning my existence. Am I, as an anonymous swine who commented thinks, being a drain on the funds of this nation by not being gainfully employed?

Am I indeed a waste of precious bodily fluids and organs that someone else could put to better use; Am I the merely a grindstone for someones axe? Or am I doing what everyone should do and am living by my own set of rules with scant regard to fuckwits who have nothing better to do with their time than to rant anonymously at someone on t'internet.

Personally, and after much thought, I think I'm the latter. As far as I know this is the one and only life I shall ever have. Why on earth would I set my bar by the standards of others?

Wouldn't you feel aggrieved if you were told that you couldn't think bigger just because someone else is of the opinion that striving to be better than the rest of the herd is unsuitable? Fucking right you would. Don't even think about arguing the point; You'll only embarrass yourself.

While pondering the grand scheme of it all, I was absorbing all kinds of information, garnered from the usual sources, about the nature of life itself. What is this thing we call life? Is it nothing more than the outcome of an absurdly improbable evolutionary scale or is it a creation of some All-knowing and All-powerful GOD?

All I know is... It's a funny old thing.

Light from the torch illuminates the keyboard in the early hours…

The despair has struck…
Quiet voices in the night…

There has been a constant banging headache all day. As there has been for the past three days. Whenever I move my head pounds. Blood surges striking up the pain when I cough and earlier on in the night I was as sick as an inexperienced sailor, adrift on a schooner in the southern seas where the BIG waves are. They roll in the night. Not silent, just deadly.

I am currently stuck in some kind of nightmarish loop… The Gods laugh at me daily as my situation stays the same despite the changes wrought upon me by a power crazed fool with one testicle, a love of whiskey and a deep hatred of women… I wrote to stay relatively sane and able to function in the everyday doom that God wreaks upon us lost souls. And what do I get? A one way ticket to the scrapheap.

I make resolutions to change but lose interest as the futility of any project becomes clearer.

“I shall write a story” I think. I begin to write. My imagination throws out an image and I focus on it intensely. The image becomes as solid and real to me as the keyboard in front of me. I attempt to describe it and am always disappointed. The words cannot project my imaginations and the question of “What do I write next?” is gradually replaced by the more pertinent question “Why bother?”

Whatever I write will not change the world. This is easy to see. My name will not go down in history and Dear Reader, chances are neither will yours. No matter who you are.

A day will come when you are nought but a memory in the minds of lovers and loved ones. This will soon pass though and you, along with the billions of others, will be forgotten. You will be no more remembered than a second cousin twice removed on your great great grandmothers side is remembered by you yourself.

So what are you? What am I? Am I the creation of a loving god as it says in the bible? I doubt it very much. To all intents and purposes and without any evidence to the contrary, life is a punishment wreaked by an uninterested God. Fuck him and all he stands for.

God is the pimp to the many whores of life who tell you it will work out in the end. “We’re all here for a reason.” They cry, with disbelief clear in their eyes and the tone of a beaten person evident in their voices. “God makes us do his bidding so that we may rise above the level of dumb beasts.” They wail, hoping that you will swallow their bullshit and be a good upstanding member of their society and not burn down their churches upon a whim. Despite the fact that their churches should be the first to go.

And now in the early hours of the morning, when the quiet voices take the chance to make themselves heard, the headache is still there beating upon my brow like a hammer of the gods. Have I angered them? Is it divine retribution that causes the pain? Or is it merely a fact of life…

Where is the power of information when the information is lost through a lust power?
Forgotten.
Just like your Second cousin twice removed on your great great grandmothers side.
Just like you, dear reader.
And…
Just like me.

Take your belief system...

And have it kicked into touch with this fun test.

I did.