Technology having made it unnecessary no one stops me on the street to ask for directions anymore, except that madwoman seeking the secret entrance to Agartha.
She obviously is mad: everybody knows that a portal can be found at the top of their local volcano, or by flushing one's self down that toilet look-a-like pink plant thing
That's the problem with the generation of today - no-one is willing to do the hard work. If you want to get to Agartha you have to go through the Poles to get into the Hollow Earth. Anything less is for pikers.
I once asked a madwoman where the secret entrance to Agartha is, and she quite reasonably responded that if the Agarthans wanted my company they wouldn't have hidden the entrance from me. She then proceeded to put a fertility curse on my ancestors.
A Mustiphino has been spotted wandering the halls of Congress. The deranged babblings of an SPLC apparatchik inspired me to coin the word hatefact . Hatefacts are unquestionable facts about immigrants , blacks , women , homosexualists , et al., that the SPLC and those sharing its ideological inclinations deem “hate” or “hateful” to mention. UPDATE: It seems I unwittingly stole the idea for the word hatefact from Peter Brimelow, who used the term “hate facts” in a speech last November .
The Illustrious House of Ramires , by Eça de Queirós. A novel about an ineffectual nobleman writing an historical novel about his heroic ancestors. Queirós has been called the Portuguese Flaubert. Large Fees and How to Get Them : a book for the private use of physicians , by Albert V. Harmon, M.D. If you practice early 20th medicine and want large fees, this book is essential reading. If you don’t, there are still lessons in its amusing and unsentimental discussion of various topics, like in the chapter “The Bugbear of Ethics”, where Harmon advises “ethics in its place is a good thing...But there is such a thing as overdoing the ethical proposition”. Histrionics: Three Plays and Over All the Mountain Tops , by Thomas Bernhard. Bernhard once said “I despise actors, indeed I hate them, for they ally themselves at the least sign of danger with the audience and betray the author and completely identify with stupidity and feeble-mindedness. Actors are the destroyers and exte...
She obviously is mad: everybody knows that a portal can be found at the top of their local volcano, or by flushing one's self down that toilet look-a-like pink plant thing
ReplyDeleteHa, in the plant, that would be a good place to hide it.
ReplyDeleteLately when needing a disguise I put on a turban and claim to be a Hindoo named Nepenthes Rajah.
That's the problem with the generation of today - no-one is willing to do the hard work. If you want to get to Agartha you have to go through the Poles to get into the Hollow Earth. Anything less is for pikers.
ReplyDeleteI almost put in a link for Agartha then I remembered who my readers are.
ReplyDeleteI once asked a madwoman where the secret entrance to Agartha is, and she quite reasonably responded that if the Agarthans wanted my company they wouldn't have hidden the entrance from me. She then proceeded to put a fertility curse on my ancestors.
ReplyDeleteThe secret of Agartha is already out:
ReplyDeletehttp://www.imdb.com/title/tt0049516/
Matt, perhaps that wasn't a madwoman?
ReplyDeleteMr Anon: See also.