On Pyrates

Submission I did for Take180.com. Chekkit

Before you ask about the picture (you were going to ask), know this: there are only about 5 pictures that come stock on the site, and all are banal as sin, perhaps to a degree that implies very bland evil.

Warstorming

It was a dark and stormy night. The router had a machine coded name no mortal man could pronounce, but its invisible signal swept over the wet, dirty alleys and through the thin walls of my apartment to carry me… information.

I’M HEISTIN INTERNET MUFUGGAS! ANOTHER BINARY SOLO, BECAUSE ITS FREEEEEEEEEE101001010101010101101001001001001001

Alas, another night, like, even more dark and stormy, maybe even hurricaney, is upon me (for serious)(y’all); the lights flicker with the local power fluctuations. Distant thunder rolls heavy across the cityscape and shake the doorframe as the sound from each and every single solitary droplet echoes faintly in my ears. This room is a cage rocking in a storm, and I need to internet. My rusty pirate rig opens up all channels, and there it is beaming like sunshine: Local Area Network FZ5524347929801-ba. I order my comp to connect, that I may be entertained, but something’s wrong…

No bounty is returned from my Google search. Even the server to my homepage cannot be found. Little AIM is struggling too. Say it aint so, FZ5524347929801-ba. Your security protocol is a heartbreaker. A little popup message on my disappointed screen informs me of what I already know.

I guess its Diablo tonight.

CONDITIONS WORSEN

It is low, and resonant, the kind of deep sound that shakes you at the center of your being. In some far off memory, ethereal amid the general thoughts in my mind, it conjured up of visions of דג גדול and Ahab’s quarry. Thus, the aged, rusted hull heaved in defiance of an angry ocean. I dragged my wet sleeve across my eyes to get the brine out. The deck was a swamp, all foam and saltwater. The angry tide crashed in to Mr. Bosun, violently sweeping him off his feet and over the drowning starboard handrail. The remainder of the crew scrambled to get to him, tossed the bright orange life ring in to the wash… the seconds inevitably passed, conglomerating in to evil minutes, and still the bright orange ring bobbed amid the breakers. The only thing I could possibly do is hang on for dear life and sanity in the EYE OF THE STORM

DANANANANANANANANA

DANANANANA

NAAAAAAAAA-NAAAAAAAA-NA

1010101010101101000100101001100

01010

10101010100101010010101011111111100100100011111111111111111111111111111111111110

The Secret Timewar pt 1

Henry Ford and the Secret Timewar pt 1

Three inches beneath the cracked, sun-parched surface of eastern Arizona a struggle between two civilizations raged. Unnamed by human minds, unknown to the world at large, ant colony XV-473’s swarm slowly broke down the defenses of ant colony LR-198. The claustrophobic tunnels were packed to the brim with pheromone excited drones, urged by their biological prerogative to rip apart anything unfamiliar. At the core of the defending ants’ tunnel system, nestled in her royal birthing chamber, the LR Queen continued to do the only thing she could; pump out pale pupa in support of the colony’s future. On the front lines, in those dark passages and anterooms clogged with writhing, bleeding carapaces, the savage law of attrition took its toll on the defenders. Monstrous soldiers with gargantuan heads dug their massive mandibles in the thoraxes of the worker defenders, who robotically continued their failing resistance. The queen watched mutely as the invaders swarmed in to her chamber; killer drones ripping asunder all in their way as they clawed sightless under the earth to their ultimate goal. She felt them envelop her, then a sharp stabbing, then nothing. Above the surface, the world continued on, wholly ignorant of the struggle.

Twenty five feet away on a Phoenix sidewalk, an old man lays broken on the hot pavement, beaten to death by a heavy-handed metaphor. As life fled his aged frame, a flash of realization flashed in Walter Balpherfarthing’s mind; his greatest life achievement, the meat tube on a stick, had been invented all along. Corndogs, of course. No wonder I had all that Dejavu. Thus died another great inventor On that day, Walter Balpherfarthing joined the company of such greats as the creator of Gobots and that one guy who also invented the telephone; the unsung heroes of history whom I can’t look up because I don’t have an internet connection right now. Nicola Tesla would be proud.

On a sweltering summer day in 1919, an upstart young Walter Balpherfarthing strode down a busy Detroit thoroughfare with a pocket full of dreams and a head full of lint, ready to make his fortune. Nothing could break his jolly stride that hot Detroit day as he went to his new job in the factory making cars. NICE POWER! He lay in to his factory work with passion, heart, and soul. Thus, he became noticed by a twisted visionary. As Henry Ford watched over his bustling factory floor, where model Ts accumulated parts like rolling snowballs as they passed through the facility, he saw not the ongoing march of human industry. He only saw waste. Inefficiency. Underproductive bags of hemoglobin. Every element of his factory was a carefully calibrated part in the whole. Each machine, conveyor belt, and worker had their own place, an integral part of the whole, each a cell in a lumbering behemoth that poops cars. Every day, the gates of this temple to industry would swing open, and hundreds of workers would stream in, labor for eight to forty seven hours, and either die or go home. This was not enough for Ford. Every night the factory would be silent, unused. He needed a solution. He needed to run his factory at peak efficiency. He could not afford human frailty.

As the frustrated Henry Ford looked out upon the factory floor, he watched a particular workman at the plebeians assembly line station. He lay in to his work with vigor and purpose, despite the fact that his work consisted of turning a single screw, over and over again, all day. This routine was so ingrained in the workers physical and mental being that he set about it with a tireless, almost mechanical animation. Henry Ford smiled. He now knew the future of the Ford Motor Empire.

Loomings

Fear not, mindless followers, for I have not abandoned ye.

Larger post is in the works, but for now enjoy these (semi)fresh fruits from the harvest, stuffed to the bursting point with grade A kick-your-ass:

Vote For Sweden if you have not already; our future depends on it.

A lopsided exchange, if you have the time.

Finally, concerning humble rodents...

let us draw a hefty load of ambergris.

Pax

-P Razz

p.s. let me know if you can decipher my nonsense. you might win some ambergris straight from the diseased leviathan stuffed in my crawlspace.

On 'zazz and facehair

I'm not sure if you received the memo, but considering there was no memo, I feel I should let you know; the world will be mine.

I know what you're thinking; "oh great, another egomaniac with delusions of grandeur spewing his/her/it's wildest dreams of conquest and domination all over the electric cesspool that is blogspot.com." And you may be right. However, all those other armchair dictators did not have the one key factor that I possess; Pistachio. Some say it is a nut. They are right. BUT THEY ARE WRONG in their assumption that a lowly nut may have sole dominion over the powerful and versatile word of... pistachio.

Pistachio evokes both Pizazz, an essential factor for any global domination movement or off-Broadway show, and Mustachio, one of the mightiest M words in existence. Let us dissect these two words, so as to gain insight in to the future dominion of man.

Pizazz: it's like pissing acid. Pizarro had Pizazz. Pizza has some pizazz, but it's diluted by all the tomato sauce. Anchovies on pizza cancels out any pizazz the pizza has built up, due to their unzazztic nature. It is the driving force behind every major success in the last 700 years. Victims of the black death lacked pizazz. The great artists of the renaissance had so much pizazz that they scooped it up with a shovel and dumped it into the Mediterranean. This 'zazz-dumping is what originally angered the World-Lobster; it hates pizazz, since pizazz poses a potent threat to the enormous arthropod's crustacean dominion (but that's a story for another day). Pizazz is also what allowed someone to write a book, publish a DVD, and become substantially wealthy claiming that there is one 'Secret' driving concept behind all human accomplishment, and that you can harness it by positive thinking. In short, pizazz is the often-alluded to "X-factor" that drives all human accomplishment, and you can harness it by sending me money. It also goes great in smoothies. I take Paypal.

Mustachio: the free dictionary defines Mustachio as "A mustache, especially a luxuriant one." Luxuriant mustaches have been scientifically proven to kick your ass. They are elegant weapons of a more civilized age, and I believe the current budget deficit is directly caused by our recent lack of mustachioed leaders. Coincidentally, spectrometer reports indicate that Barack Obama indeed possesses an ultraviolet mustachio. Hope indeed.

Anyway, I intend to seize the potentially awesome word of "Pistachio" from the public consciousness and use it as the driving force behind my Pizazztic, Mustachioed doom legions. The World-Lobster and its aquatic minions won't stand a chance.


-P to the Razz.

in the 20s, Osama bin Laden would have tied the WTC to a train track while twirling his mustache, especially a luxuriant one.

Alternate Blog/Band Names

You may not realize it, but this blog had many other candidates for the title, and each of them failed on their own merits. Coincidentally, they all make pretty awesome band names too. Presented here for your enjoyment is a comprehensive list of awesome names that failed to stand up to our rigorous review process. Use at your own risk.

Slaughter Soliloquy

His blood makes great hot choklat

Aye, Bite Me, Ye Rodents

Raging Inflection

Kratos' Big Adventure

Shifty McDoctor and the Fudding Elmers

All-seeing Shiva and the Reluctant Oppenheimers

Rad Ways to Make Yourself Cool

Engineers of Entropy

Baleful, Odious Syrup

I'm Watching You Through the Monitor

Rigor Mortis is my Viagra

Dresden Codak... damnit

Salmonella Cupcakes

Orville Rickenbacker's Gourmet Face-rocking

Reddit, Digg it, Whore it

Cool Ways to Make Yourself Rad

They Might be Giants... damnit

You Looked Better on the Internet

Lichtenstein? I hardly Knowenstein!

Snuffleuphagus' Worst Nightmare

Methane Jim and Dead Canaries

My Life is Over and You Can Too

If You're Deaf, Turn It Up.

Juniper Grenades

Cheese Frieze

The Commoner Sense... damnit

Cool Ways to Make Yourself Rad

Fox News... damnit



-P. to the Razz

It's true. Look it up on Wikipedia.