Threads: Men Of Reason

An explorer showed a flashlight to a member of a lost Amazon tribe cut off from the world. When the tribesman went back to his village and spoke of a stick that emits light, he was killed. The villagers had deemed themselves to know what's real and no reasonable person would make the tribesman's claim. But the closed mind is incapable of reason. It's forever bound to a limited set of facts maintained to justify its conservative static point of view.
Beware the one who deems himself to be of reason!

Two sides of the same coin

Threads: Blessings Bought

Standing in the sunshine of your lust 
broadcasting my nudes by the highway run 
in a lifemare of continually quelled panic 
I give thanks for the daily scab 
as I give curses for nurses I lost 
a voice from a passing metalloid blames: 
"Who killed Jesus?" "The voters!" I denied 
in a place where two are never gathered 
nobody is bothered to bother 
as everyone races bothered 
to escape the Eternal Question 
that our childhood dismembered 
in ragged love still sought 
we rot 
in the sunshine of our rust

 

Threads: Unreality

Living in this world is like being trapped in a car with a driver who refuses to put gas in the tank. "No need to! I am blessed!" 

If I mention the fuel gauge I'm called "unsupportive" and labeled "chicken little."

The "solution" to the driver is to put tape over the gauge and make clever political arguments that all is fine. 

When I insist, I'm threatened with death as the driver "doubles down" by racing past the last gas station ensuring we're as far away as possible when the tank runs dry.

------------------

When such a person hears the words of this oath and they invoke a blessing on themselves [American exceptionalism], thinking, “I will be safe, even though I persist in going my own way,” they will bring disaster on the watered land as well as the dry. 

Deuteronomy 29:19 

Threads: Run Lucy Run

When you hit 60 and your life has been over for years and your future forfeited and you're stuck in a marriage of inconvenience, there's only one thing to do: run for office. 

Lucy the Loser decided to do exactly that, more excited than she'd been in decades as she airbrushed her glam photo. 

"Desire is the enemy! It will lead you down wicked paths of self-betrayal. Never do what you want!" 

Other failures in her sinking society applauded, voting her a winner!"

They love me for what I'm not."

Threads: Lonely Is The Fright

In the dead of night she found the loneliest place in the universe next to her stranger spouse. She reminisced of the One Who Got Away.

"Dear God, I still need him," she discovered to her horror. 

The Angel Of Desire answered her prayer, bringing him to her door. But she refused to answer."I said I wanted to see him, not willing to see him."

The Angel Of Desire left with him.

Later, she cursed the Angel for abandonment, becoming a conservative star voice "cursed by an angry universe." 

And that's how she managed to die alone. 

Threads: Art In Our Time Of Dying

 

Here on Planet Pervert, the world is based on a lie. Keeping that lie alive is considered "responsible". Pursing the truth is "anarchy".

Art sends a message. It can be true, false, superficial - anything. But in a world where the ultimate rule is mob rule, does an artist find oneself censoring one's art? 

Art demands absolute freedom. Anythings less is a deformity. Yes, to face ourselves is to know the horror of the crimes we've committed in the eyes of God.

Yet only truth will guide us home.

Threads: Assasin Goupil Origin

The boy fixated in horror as his life ended before his eyes. His one chance at love literally bled into the floor, her skull cracked. 

Her death an accident but the argument not. He turned to face the mirror, seeing a face he'd never forget. 

"Fucking asshole piece of shit. I oughtta take a baseball bat and beat the shit out of you every day for life. I can't believe you! I'm out on you forever!"

Unable to shake the simmering self-hate, he ran into the night, vowing never to forgive himself.

 

Threads: Rosarita Meter Maid

Rosarita smugly caressed the handle of her gun, feeling its power. The uniform, the belt, the legions of backup at her fingertips - was all she could do to keep from giggling. 

So much smarter than her friends! But her white-laden coworkers saw her differently. 

Behind her back they called her "the Spic Chick" and even "Korea gonorrhea" because, you know, "if you ain't white, you ain't right." 

They sniggered in unspoken conspiracy, relishing the day to betray her and see the look on her face. 

Threads: The Futile Fig Leaf

Our Loudmouth Leader calls us the Defiant Ones, the Faithful Few who will laugh when the future arrives. The truth is just the opposite. 

Our group lives in a played out gold mine but we assure the world there's gold still to be found. Our Leader goes on TV to give us a fig leaf of respectability. Fortunately, we live in a time where loudness still counts as rightness. That time will pass. 

We have despair, not hope. We are lost, not saved. We have a community of lies, not love. 

This is Hell. 

 

Threads: End Of The Road

"I'm mad as hell but I have to keep taking it!"

"Stick Jesus in Dallas rush hour traffic and I guarantee you he'd sin. I'm trapped in hell! Get me out of here!"

"My tricks of denial don't work anymore. Better leave the gun at home! Don't know who I'll shoot first: me or them." 

Meanwhile, back at the Billionaire Bunker:

"What will we do when the peasants finally revolt?"

"Just keep them chanting, 'We back the blue'. Then when time comes we'll use the cops to beat them black and blue!" 

Threads: Shartruse Obnoids

"American pasta 
"Stay away from me! 
"Don't want your Roundup 
"Inside of me-e!" 

----
Can you imagine Babe Ruth having to describe who he is but having never played baseball? 

---- 
Comedian:

My father has Alzheimers, he's starting to forget things now. I went to visit him. 

We never really got along. For the past seven days I brought him a gift. 

It was the same gift. [laughter] 

Hey, guess who's back in the will!

--- 
"Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold."

Threads: Logging In

Where am I?

What day is it?

What am I doing?

It's nothing for nothing if everything's gone

Going through motions in abandoned hope 

Wave at the moon, feeling a dope 

Tail chasing cats circle the globe 

A grand dance of our pretended relevance 

An homage to the void we say to avoid

 The death of the 'why' 

Cause 'why' kills the lie

 In silent lullaby 

The wages of sin as death pays the rent 

But run from gifts that are heaven sent 

Claiming the future must be bent 

Chatbox XY11 logging in.