QOTD

“Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience. They may be more likely to go to Heaven yet at the same time likelier to make a Hell of earth. This very kindness stings with intolerable insult. To be “cured” against one’s will and cured of states which we may not regard as disease is to be put on a level of those who have not yet reached the age of reason or those who never will; to be classed with infants, imbeciles, and domestic animals.”

― C.S. Lewis

Self-Transforming Machine Elves

Excerpts from this article, where Terrence Mckenna describes the “Self-Transforming Machine Elves”, or “Jeweled, Self-Dribbling Basketballs” – nonhuman entities many people claim to have encountered during a DMT experience. The whole article is worth reading, but I’ve edited it down here to remove most of Terrence’s trademark rambling (and delightful) style of talking to keep it to just a description of the entities. Mainly because I was reminded of the somewhat-famous ending quote and I wanted it on my blog:

DMT does not provide an experience that you analyze. Nothing so tidy goes on. The syntactical machinery of description undergoes some sort of hyper-dimensional inflation instantly, and then, you know, you cannot tell yourself what it is that you understand. In other words, what DMT does can’t be downloaded into as low-dimensional a language as English.

The place, or space, you’ve burst into—called “the dome” by some—seems to be underground, and is softly, indirectly lit. The walls are crawling with geometric hallucinations, very brightly colored, very iridescent with deep sheens and very high, reflective surfaces—everything is machine-like and polished and throbbing with energy.

But that is not what immediately arrests my attention. What arrests my attention is the fact that this space is inhabited—that the immediate impression as you break into it is there’s a cheer. [...] You break into this space and are immediately swarmed by squeaking, self-transforming elf-machines…made of light and grammar and sound that come chirping and squealing and tumbling toward you. And they say, “Hooray! Welcome! You’re here!” And in my case, “You send so many and you come so rarely!”

The elves, or “jeweled self-dribbling basketballs,” come running forward. They’re “singing, chanting, speaking in some kind of language that is very bizarre to hear, but what is far more important is that you can see it, which is completely confounding!” And also, something is “going on” that over the years McKenna has come to call luv—”not ‘light utility vehicle,’ but love that is not like Eros or not like sexual attraction,” something “almost like a physical thing,” “a glue that pours out into this space.”

Each “elf-machine creature” “elbows others aside, says, ‘Look at this, look at this, take this, choose me!’” They come toward you, and then—and you have to understand they don’t have arms, so we’re kind of downloading this into a lower dimension to even describe it, but—what they do is they offer things to you. You realize what you’re being shown—this “proliferation of elf gifts,” or “celestial toys,” which “seem somehow alive”—is “impossible.” This “state of incredible frenzy” continues for about three minutes, during which the elves are saying:

“Don’t give way to wonder. Do not abandon yourself to amazement. Pay attention. Pay attention. Look at what we’re doing. Look at what we’re doing, and then do it. Do it!”

QOTD

“Remember, it is not enough to be insulted to be harmed, you must believe that you are being harmed. If someone succeeds in provoking you, realize that your mind is complicit in the provocation. It is not he who reviles you who insults you, but your opinion that these things are insulting.”

- Epictetus

Sins

The Operative: Do you know what your sin is, Mal?
Mal: Aw hell, I’m a fan of all seven. (headbutt) But right now, I’m gonna have to go with wrath.

- Serenity

I’m also a fan of all seven. Here’s my list, in descending order of awesomeness:

  1. Pride
  2. Lust
  3. Sloth
  4. Gluttony
  5. Wrath
  6. Greed
  7. Envy

Pet

Don’t fret precious, I’m here
Step away from the window
Go back to sleep

Lay your head down child
I won’t let the boogeyman come
Counting bodies like sheep
To the rhythm of the war drums
Pay no mind to the rabble
Pay no mind to the rabble
Head down, go to sleep
To the rhythm of the war drums

Pay no mind what other voices say
They don’t care about you
Like I do
Safe from pain and truth and choice and other poison devils
See, they don’t give a fuck about you
Like I do

Just stay with me
Safe and ignorant
Go back to sleep
Go back to sleep

Lay your head down child
I won’t let the boogeyman come
Count the bodies like sheep
To the rhythm of the war drums
Pay no mind to the rabble
Pay no mind to the rabble
Head down, go to sleep
To the rhythm of the war drums

I’ll be the one to protect you from
Your enemies and all your demons
I’ll be the one to protect you from
A will to survive and a voice of reason
I’ll be the one to protect you from
Your enemies and your choices son
They’re one and the same I must isolate you
Isolate and save you from yourself

Swinging to the rhythm of the new world order and
Counting bodies like sheep
To the rhythm of the war drums
The boogeymen are coming
The boogeymen are coming
Keep your head down go to sleep
To the rhythm of the war drums

Stay with me
Safe and ignorant
Just stay with me
Hold you and protect you from the other ones
The evil ones
Don’t love you son
Go back to sleep

fortune

I have fortune integrated into various scripts. Because I can.

Today, logwatch gave me one that made me chuckle:

THE LESSER-KNOWN PROGRAMMING LANGUAGES #12: LITHP

This otherwise unremarkable language is distinguished by the absence of
an “S” in its character set; users must substitute “TH”. LITHP is said
to be useful in protheththing lithtth.

Give up for australia

May all our young Aussie swimmers
Be resigned to failure
May our nation’s state
Be always second rate!

May Timorese fisherman
Evade the Aussie sailor
Do as history teaches
Die on Middle Eastern beaches!

We produce a Norman May
Not a Norman Mailer
May our land’s vast distance
Always treat us with indifference!

Give up for Australia!
Give up for Australia!
Give up for Australia!
Give up for Australia!

-TISM

QOTD

“If I speak at one constant volume, at one constant pitch, at one constant rhythm, right into your ear, you still won’t hear.”
- Faith No More – A Small Victory

QOTD

(Dumb bitch parks illegally across my carpark exit)
Me: “You know that’s not a parking spot, right?”
Her: “Huh?”
Me: “That spot you’re parked in – it’s not a parking space, it’s the entrance to my carpark.”
Her: “What?”
Me: “I SAID THAT IS NOT A PARKING SPACE! MOVE YOUR SHITHEAP!”
Her: “There’s no need to scream!”

QOTD

Quote

“I don’t want to talk about time travel shit. Because if we talk about time travel shit then we’re gonna be here all day, drawing diagrams with straws.”
- Bruce Willis, Looper

QOTD

Quote

Randall Flagg: Pleased to meet you, Lloyd. Hope you guess my name.
Lloyd Henreid: Huh?
Randall Flagg: Oh, Nothing, Just a little classical reference.

– Stephen King’s The Stand (Miniseries)