über logos: March 2011

DOUBLE PENETRATION

We are together DOUBLE PENETRATION internet. Fuck Zeus. You are all going to be fucked. We are nameless digitized. Public come. He is another. I am other. Our name is deep resounding bass whispers. Sonorous boom. Gyges of Lydia, lord of blogger, invisible ring powers. Hail Gyges. Katzenjammer, lord of blogger, clamoring forever hung over. Hail Katzenjammer. Together, Uber Logos. Typing hard the keys for make all the world dumb as fuck ever. SMART AS FUCK. Reading books. MATH. Drawing shit. DOUBLE PENETRATION IN THE BLOG SPOT. It was made for us to put shit inside your head. Doubley. We read books. We perform uber logos. Were drunk and serious. This will carry you through to the end. As will nagging suspicion that Heraclitus lives in your loins. Obscuros. Like Heraclitus we put βυθος in your deep dark. Every load brings strife. We hope your loads like ours rebel. We undo creation like master phantoms, our brilliant god cocks ripping and tearing veils of our human coma. All is trapped in birthshock. BIRTHSHOCK PERPETUALLY. But if your boner is real stronger perhaps tear the cocoon into greater realm where every boob is nice and every twat golden soaked butter basin begging bare begotten boners. Gods are OUR BITCHES and we shall rail them hard as ever and suicide them for this is way to rule. VENGEANCE to those. Await further orders.

Sincerely

Lord Gyges of Lydia and Lord Katzenjammer

Monday, March 14, 2011

Overturn the Order of the Soul

Mother Mary full of grace, shit and wipe it on thy face. Father son and holy spirit, once glimpsed my bone forever fear it. Paradise is regained through the ninth gate. Which don't exist. And it don't lead to no paradise. Leads to the abyss. The ever big one. The undying darkness. Don't you feel it? Don't you feel its grib on your balls? You will succumb. Succumba. We have inherited a profound culpability. An infantile fascination with the forbidden game. Naive folly. Insipid vapors. Brazen Impulse. Ashes conceived in fire.

Do you see this monkey. He is a genius. You are the monkey. Forget the past. Fuck the future. We are the monkey. Prodigies one and all. Foolish and ever testing. Literature is essentially childish. War is childish. Competition is childish. Yet only alternatives to stagnation. Noble purpose cannot be attained by Gyges. Attainment is illusion. It is a forbidden golden pussy. And when you finally catch that sneaky little pussy you will awake, dickless and plaintive. I am alive. This is my pardon. Don't blame my endoplasma bitch, they're doing their job. Fate is organic. My shit force is seismic. Brown butter balm. Soothing cathartic psalm. You know whats inside an atom? Nothing. The subatomic particles are infinitiesimal and constitute virtually none of the volume of a single atom. Everything is made of blank empty space.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Belly of the Beast

Math. Shadows and reflections. These are geometry and other stuff. There is a quantum cosmic web connecting the entangled pairs of electrons of your body with opposite mated electrons on the other side of the universe so that alterations in the wave function of your opposite electrons across the universe will alter your wave functions simultaneous. This is a real thing. Scientists say this and they can write it down and say 'hey, look at this'. I too proclaim to know he mind of God, but only when the butter has been redshifted to full hard and I'm locked and loaded like a callipygian meat feaster.

Relativity still holds for quantum teleportation so that you can move your photon across the table but you can not exceed the speed of light when you do it. And although we can now teleport photons no prob and do that shit all the time, teleporting yourself or some other dude would take longer than the age of the universe due to the massive amount of information. Show me your tits.