Thursday, April 29, 2010


They asked me if I exercise. Hell no! I don't believe in exorcism. I don't believe for one single, solitary minute that putting myself through a regular ordeal is going to rid me of my demons.

They asked me if I play an instrument. And how I do! I play the strumpet. Quite the virtuosita I am too!

The root of evil lies not in the committing of base acts, but rather in the attempt to apprehend the sublime on the part of those not morally prepared to do so.

When people ask me what I do for a living I tell them that I'm a vampire. When they look at me oddly or laugh I ask: "If I told you that I'm a banker, lawyer or psychiatrist would I be a more respectable species of bloodsucker in your estimation?

Nobody bothered to ask how I am today, but had someone I just might have told the truth. My health is failing. My stamina is so low that it lies as a stagnant pool around my swollen ankles. My self-respect is probably buried somewhere under the floor tiles, but I have neither the strength nor the will to conduct an extensive dig for it. My sense of humor is in a coma. My libido is in an advanced state of rigor mortis.
Oh, and did I neglect to mention that my wit is dimming?

You're only as good as the last book you've written.

Mama said there'd be aeons like this.

Bisexuals are the Blacks of the Rainbow community.

I got dem ol' kozmik dis whole floating world ain't nothin' but a Kabuki stage blues again, Mama.

"...a Saturday night day." (This was a typo. It was meant to be Saturday night date.)

Doreen looks around for the nearest Calabi-Yau space to hide in in shame, hoping never to emerge. I'll take the Klein bottle with me. I think I need a drink.

Doreen shimmies out of her geek trying to do funny outfit and, donning her serious social contemplator get-up, queries____________________

Morphology – Sentience structure

Cutting into the Gender Bias – Men who sew are tailors, whereas women who sew are seamstresses. In a relationship, closeness suits her just fine. He feels hemmed in.

I'm not bigoted, but I can't stand people of PDF extraction. They're weird. They live in adobes. Most of the time they don't work and when they do they work as acrobats.

It's not fair! Any position that missionaries have sex in would, by definition, be "The Missionary Position". For the rest of us it's only man on top. :0(

This new reducing diet is really working! I'm not losing any weight, but I am getting shorter.

There are those who say that I do not know how to get along with people.
Untrue! All one has to do is lick up; kick down; adhere to a code of honor among thieves and make as many vapid jokes, preferably based on pop icons in order to increase one's popularity base, as possible.
Nothing could be simpler.
Those of us who are insightful enough to perceive the phenomenon for what it is, linguistically apt enough to articulate it to ourselves and others and of strong enough moral fiber to go against the social tide and opt out of ape-like behavior, are thereby exempt.
I am among the exempt.
Now you'll say that I am arrogant.
No, I'm not arrogant, just supremely self-possessed.
Self-possessed. Now you'll say that I'm a demon…

Comforting thought of the day: There is an infinite number of women with my mind and Carmen Electra's looks who do not have to clean for Pesach in infinite parallel universes – some perhaps as close as 10^10^497 meters away, give or take.

Who would want to have sex with someone with silicone implants?
I mean, who in their right mind would want to play with a couple of inflatable bags?
Probably someone who wasn't sure of the person's sexual skills and was afraid of getting into an accident.

I'm too much of a rebel to be schizophrenic. I'd just tell any voices that told me what to do to go to hell.

I've done it! It's my tour de force. It's the crowning achievement of decades of not only theoretical rumination, but endeavoring to live according to the principles I hold most dear. I have not only defined and elucidated the precepts, but attained the level of being the living embodiment of my ideation. I have thus formulated the basis of a new movement, which I am absolutely convinced is the one and only hope for all sentient beings and to which I intend to convert the entire world – by force if need be.
I have yclept it Anarcho-Anachro-Nacro-Necro-Narcissism. As the name clearly suggests; Anarcho-Anachro-Nacro-Necro-Narcissism is believing that one is oh, so special because one lives in a stuporous, stateless state which is out of, probably irrelevant to and almost definitely inconsequential and undesirable in any given time frame.

Tzfat's (Safed's) having been dubbed "The Ignominy of the Galilee" in the national press, is the afflatus for a new gadget I've developed that will prove to be very useful for the residents of Tzfat. A patent is already pending. So, no one better even think of stealing it. It is called the Ignominometer. It is a special cuff to measure the elevation of one's blood pressure in response to the anger as a result of, or the lowering of one's blood pressure in response to the shame of, the various degrees of ignominy which Tzfat is characterized by at any given moment.

As Poets make of themselves unrequited lovers, so Anarchists make of themselves Proletarians.

The limerent object of the Anarchist is all of Humanity.

When I consider the various schools of Judaism, such as they are nowadays; I feel like Goldilocks in the three bears' beds. One is too hard, a second too soft, yet a third too middling – and all entirely too Procrustean.

I was asked to describe the man of my dreams. Okay. Here goes: Bad hair, worse teeth and ears like Dumbo. He must be petulant, unpredictable and far too often floating belly up in his cups. The man of my dreams will drive me mad with frustration, steadfastly refusing my plaints that he wear a sporran - and nothing else. His dead meat should be overly pickled and he must have a funny accent. His otherwise exquisite writing should be vitiated with scurrilous punctuation.

I wonder what I will be when humanity grows up.

There is no greater obstacle to knowledge of God than belief.

A Mensan, with whom I have enjoyed corresponding for a few years, posed the following query to me: "Did you know that using Newton's method to find the roots of so elementary a function as x^3 - 1 = 0
in the complex plane leads to infinitely detailed fractals?"
In the recesses of my memory bank is a treasure chest into which I pitch all of the assorted and sundry curiosities that will be worthy of the most serious consideration just as soon as everyone has bilharzia-free water to drink, is fed, housed, clothed and shod, inoculated and educated.

Yes, my friend, if I recall correctly; this gem of a factoid is in there somewhere.

My son is teaching himself to play guitar. His playing causes me to wax philosophical – Strum und Twang.

The contention that an efficacious programme of ethnic cleansing has been implemented in "Palestine" is patently preposterous. Preposterous, I tell you. Israel remains as ethnically grotty and squalid as ever it was.

You can step into the same torpid pool twice. – Heravulvus

The dow that can be pronounced is not a blue chip dow. D-Tzy

Ever notice how the most nugatory statements are the most averred?

Where there's a will there may very well be a codicil.

Nihilism: Gloomy agnostication

Pharmaceutical Company: Casa Nostrum

Mommy! Mommy! I don't want to go to camp!
Shut up and keep writing subversive essays.

When they said: "be part of the solution", what they meant was: When the meltdown comes, take your place as the solvent or the solute.

Bats are the quintessence of what creation looks like when God and Satan collaborate. Humans are the apotheosis.

Our forefathers were commanded by God to redeem hearts of stone and turn them into flesh and blood.
We, in this generation, are commanded to redeem plastic.

George Walker Bush should go down in the annals of history as the man who eradicated paranoia.

People ask: What's real?
What's real and not real is not relevant to us, despite the fact that we've all been taught to think it's of the utmost importance.
That's right. I did just say that. And I meant what I said.
What's important is what we *want* to be true, how we use our hope and imaginations. That will determine what will be for us.
In this world, or, more properly, at this grade in our schooling, we are being taught how to ideate meaningfully, not how to align our thoughts with objective reality.
Objective reality is what we will create at a later stage in our schooling.

Just because I'm a Jew, if I do nothing but stay in bed all day and do nothing; about 3 billion people will obsess about my existence.
The Black Pope and the Queen of England have to work hard to keep their influence. I don't have to do anything.
In fact, among the 3 billion people who will obsess about me are the White and Black Popes and the monarchs of Europe.
That's power!
What's more powerful is that I wish it were not so.

Comforting thought for the day: If the world turns to grey goo because of nanotechnology run amok and resulting ecophagy, the black hole created by CERN would probably rather spit than swallow

One must know God and have faith in Man.
The latter is the greater of the two accomplishments.
Think: If people were not naturally intelligent, would the water be fluoridated?
If people were not naturally noble, would so much effort me made undermining our estimation of ourselves and one another?
If people were not naturally peaceful, would so much effort be expended creating wars?
If people were not basically Godly, would so much effort have been spent on promulgating the occult?

In every generation, the war machine looked like the unbeatable, unstoppable juggernaut and like the ultimate doomsday weapon to the populace.
And in every generation Humanity beat the reaper.
We will this time too and our descendants will look back on these days and our puny technology with the amusement that the quaintness of the chariot arouses in us.

Do you know the antonym of the French word grandeur? Some have it that it is blandeur, but it's not. The antonym of grandeur is insignifiance. Have you ever heard of a psychotic symptom called Delusions of Grandeur?
Have you ever heard of a psychotic symptom called Delusions of Insignfiance?
Ask yourself why not.
I ask you: What is more psychotic – for one to imagine that they are Cleopatra (or Napoleon for the male persuasion) –or- for one to imagine that they are a cog in a machine?
Which is more socially acceptable to say that you think you are Cleopatra (or Napoleon) or that you are a cog in a machine?

Trying to galvanize the Israelis into a revolutionary force is like trying to whip an OA meeting into a SWAT team.

Being insightful, clever and pithy about one's failure is a poor substitute for being successful. I'd rather be inciteful [sic] than insightful.

The elite are just people assuming the position.

Can'tcha just smell it? The entire psycho-social services system in Israel is stewing in Tavistock.

If anyone asks you for proof of your "conspiracy theories" tell them: Where there's smoke, there's fire. And where there's fire there are no documents.

Ask someone in Western society who lives in a row house, wears the fashion that everyone else is wearing that season, dons the hairstyle of the moment and works in a cubicle why s/he's against Collectivism and s/he'll tell you: That would take away my individuality!

Ask anyone of European descent what right they have to be in the Americas, Australia or New Zealand and they'll tell you: "I have Native blood". What they mean is: on my hands. The question is: Do the *Natives* accept you as one of them? If not, stop kidding yourself.
One has to be able to read the meta-messages in behaviors and events and also to realize they are sending meta-messages to others. When a people, en masse, agree to be called workers and be put in cubicles for 80-hour work weeks; their declarations of loving freedom are never going to be taken seriously by business, or its private clerical and administrative staff and police force, i.e., the government, ever again.

Ufomism – might be defined as a UFO that is not alien craft.

Our children are always imprescriptibly our biological family, but it's when our child chooses a mate that we know whether or not they are also our ideological child.
I doubt that it is more painful to miscarry a biological child than to miscarry an ideological child.

That which people term "counter culture" should properly be called over the counter culture.

Our cat Lula's love can be summed up thus: I love you. I knead you. I scent you a furball as a token of my affection.

George Walker Bush will go down in posterity as the man who cured paranoia.

Isn't positing that the fittest are rewarded by remaining in this world analagous to positing that the aptest students are rewarded by remaining in the first grade another year?

Doreen Ellen Bell-Dotan, Tzfat, Israel

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