Wither Assurbanipal?

For those of you who might even know what that is about. This entry is just being entered to let you know that I haven't died yet, and that the latest theory of what I am dying of is encephalitis, which just recently edged out vaccine reaction. A coward dies a billion deaths would be more accurate. One problem with this "slogan", like many others, is that it overlooks something. It overlooks the fact that most of the "deaths", however frightening they might be, are quickly over, and never as frightening as the real one, which even non-cowards encounter, and which is completely horrific.

But there must be a more pleasant topic than death or debilitating illness. And there is, but it would only be a way of ducking reality. Do you have anything to say? It is your turn. I didn't think so.As usual, I have to do all the work.

At least I can take comfort in the fact that an especially lame blog has the capacity to attract legions of followers. Unfortunately that doesn't mean EVERY lame blog. It seems to be some kind of perverse lottery. But I will keep trying, as every attempt I have had at an interesting, perceptive website has plummeted by the wayside. Wall gotta go now, it is time to take my temperature.

The novel is almost here

What novel, you rasp? This one of course. See you are expecting some boring piece of garbage filled with boring predictability like characters, plot, meaning and other related drivel, but I have really outsmarted you this time! According the the painstaking H Q Picadilly Strunket rules of style, all you need for a novel is 200 hundred straight pages of words, be they composed on paper, papyrus, velvet, cellophane, baseball cards, hummingbird skins, or whatever medium you happen to have hand at present. SO I am almost there! I really never thought I would do it. Of course I now have to dedicate myself to the arduous task of knitting all this sewage together into a single handsome collectors edition format computer file, but this task should be a mere basket of baubles compared to the work I have already completed. I may just rent a hamster for a weekend and let the beast exercise her lily paws on the keyboard to finish this thing off. The only difference that cold possibly noted could be the sharp erudition of the hamster.

Burroughs cutting method? Hah! For sissies! This loot is numenally cut! Saves loads of labor! I can pad it out with rarely seen Bazooka Joe strips and no one would be any the wiser...

Onthe subject of cutting, I think that it would have been better if the cutting had only been the beginning. He should have then buttered it up, put it in a blender, and fried it on an open flame before lovingly ladling it onto his editor' red pen.. It would have been similar nonsense, but at least it would have been delicious. Another book that is cutting resistant: The Bible. no one can mess with the transcendental cutting techniques obviously in operation there...Who would believe me if I plead that this shining parchment was the result of randomly collecting scattered typeset that had been skydiving the night before... I didn't think so...

Well anyway, here is the editorial for today, to try to bring you back to reality. You evidently have trouble controlling your imagination. Haiti. Need I say more? What can be done for these poor people. Of course they are just acute sufferers of the human condition. BAH! you snort behind narrowed eyes, overstuffed in your armchair. What the duat is he talkin' about now? You sit there, satisfied and self-possessed, encaged by your seductive mistress extra sodium pork rinds, and sincerely believe that is could never happen to you, as you shrewdly plotted to live in a locality that hasn't experienced an earthquake since the time of North American mountain building, that is, well before you were born. And you are right. But as you reach in satisfaction for the the last lonely rind, you are seized by the pain representing your accumulated pork rind slaughtering karma, and dissolve into a fine goo on your living room rug. Food for thought.

The Month of Virgo

Here they are, those relished readings of the stars, put into plain language that anyone can't understand.. ANTIMATTER ASTROLOGY for the Month of Virgo...

Aries, the Active Loafer. You feel sick this month. You are. But that doesn't mean that anyone gives an asteroid chip about it. Calm down. Do you think that you are the only person who has ever been sick? Maybe it is all in your head. Actually it is a malignancy in your colon. It could also be that your heart needs filtering after all the junk you have poured into it. Get organized.

Taurus, the Stolid Knit Picker. You just love this time of year. Sure everything and everyone is still as disorganized as ever, but this month you are feeling righteous and having a blast kicking them and life to pieces. Who cares? Why don't you come up with an elaborate explanation for your own worthlessness instead? You could fall in love with a specialist this month, but if they vary a fraction from perfection they are ashcanned with cheerful insouciance. The human race has been destroyed and you have the dump to yourself! Have some more candy!

Gemini, The Vacillating Mass of Confusion. You really hate this month. Everyone is using their intelligence, and you seem to have less of it, for some reason. The secret is that your brand of intelligence is unpopular right now, and I won't tell the world that all yours amounts to is spinning quick circles going nowhere and putting down others that can't think as fast as you can. Then when they carefully consider what you said later they realize that you don't have a clue. A good time to make an exhasutive list of how to die, or research your fussbudget family roots.

Cancer, The Wishywashy Worrywart. You are actually one of the sharpest tongued memers of the zodiac, and that will amusingly boil to a head this month. You feel you are making constructive criticism, but who cares? Don't you think others have as leas as much brains as you and can figure out their own problems? Why don't you write it all down, and then burn it as offering to the ineffable Goddess Kali. Beter yet, just be quiet. Silence is prudent and golden this month. You are at your most exciting when you are not saying a word anyway. You are beyond words.

Leo, The Arrogant Valumeister. You know it all, that is you own it all. If only everyone else had the same values and priorities as you did, then we would all be the same kind of pain in the neck. but of course we are different kinds. You are very discriminating in what you have. It is the best and nothing else. If you have nothing at all you spend your time roaring about the foolish things that others have and value. Thanks. Why don't you buy some medical apparatus this month, and then test it on yourself. Good kitty.

Virgo, the Modest Perfection. Happy Birthday! You are the center of all of our troubles this month. Imagine taking ego satisfaction from tearing others to shreds. That is what the colon, your ruler, does, and that is what you do to us. You digest us and excrete the waste. But it is always waste. You ultimately want to destroy everything. You don't like anything, you certainly don't like people. So you are the nondescript engine of change that will grind the material universe like hamburger. Have fun.

Libra, The Pretentious Fraud. I call you that it in the most loving way possible. What are you coverting up? Well your dreams will tell you this month as you have black and white renderings of lives spend as little orphan annie, and mother therasa's sister, and similar folk so forgotten they were never known in the first place. What does it all mean? First of all you eat too much wurst before retiring. Second You were some of these people and you try to conceal it now. Whoops it just leaked out again.

Scorpio, The Vengeful Organizer. Not very impressive, is it? Well it isn't easy to tie together arbitrary ideas on short notice. Your friends will come up for a good appraisal this month, and what a bunch of worms they are! Lazy, disorganized, stupid, vain, silly... what to do? Better edit them right out of your life! Then you will gradually get the weird sensation that maybe you are...lazy, disoragnized...etc...

Sagittarius, The prim Blue Whale in a China shop. YOU and this month.. HAH! The only thing more foolish to imagine might be a Pisces and this month.. you ought to drink each other to death for the hell of it...well if you didn't exist, Virgo might have to concede that there was no reason to live.. when they feel depressed when water and earth signs are showing signs of not being utterly flawed, you tramp in, whinny and deposit a gift on the carpet. Stimpy! I love you!!!The love that Virgos feel for you if you allow them to thoroughly hate you is really unlimited. Needless to say your extra restlessness this month will allow you to be a bigger creator of confusion than average. Have fun!

Capricorn. The Steely Ideal. Are you sure that you aren't really a Virgo. Nah, you have too much ambition. And you really don't worry. They say you are pessimistic, but that is all about others. They are doomed and it is so pathetic. You tower like granite above it all. But I have to say that I feel you are one of the most miserable signs in the zodiac, because you truly are heartless. You find ripping others to shreds funny actually whereas Virgos cease to be if they stop doing it. You also feel that it is a measure of philosophical genius to complain and criticize. Get bent.

Aquarius. The Indifferent Iconoclast. For you this month is power, just make sure it is power that YOU use, rather than that which is used against you. You could die this month, but only if you haven't paid attention to your health for a billion years, which is possible, because you let it build. A great month to have sex. Try the maid. If you don't have one, hire one. Your critical whiner within has the power to destroy, so everyone, look out!

Picses. The General Target of Virgo Wrath. Good time to move back to Neptune til the Sun goes into Scorpio. You argue by turning sideways and sulking, but this only allows Virgo to critique your debate posture. It is hopeless, I wasn't joking about swapping planets. Why does anyone come to this dump anyways? Of course there are aliens they just don't want to bother with this heap. Would you want to visit a sanitation plant on vacation? Common. Ok if you stay , try to strike an accord with your partner, and allow them to dip you briefly into the sulfuric acid tank for laughs. Whatever keeps them happy...