Let me be the first to say "Gazoynelblat".
I've said it before and I'm likely to say it again, but maybe this week I should start typing about something that makes more sense... or not, as the case may be.
The folks that I would like to take to task this week are the unfortunates who are so uncomfortable with the universe and their puny place in it that they have to see patterns everywhere.
Do you see the face of Jesus in a tortilla? Congratulations. I've seen Bart Simpson in my acoustic ceiling. Do I take a saw to my ceiling and sell it as an original Matt Groening circa 1969? I would sure hope not. But too many mouth-breathers go completely apeshit when they see what they think is Jesus or anything else vaguely face-like. As another example, legions of conspiracy-theorist Christian lobotomites point to images of a death's head skull in a debris cloud as incontrovertible evidence of Satan's hand in the events of 9/11.
All of this tripe is explained by biology. Our brains are wired to recognize patterns. It's particularly good at recognizing faces. As in my previous example, if you stare up at a popcorn ceiling long enough, even without the aid of mind altering chemicals, you will start to see stuff. Does it mean that Zoroaster is sending me signals from Saturn? When I see Barney the Dinosaur in a cloud formation, do I scamper like an extra in a Godzilla movie? Nope. It's just my brain doing what it's best at: sifting for patterns. So that's why we see Jesus on a tortilla or a penis in the Little Mermaid's underwater castle. Was it Christ's penis? Well, I suppose it looked vaguely circumcised, so there is an outside chance. But even if it were the dong of the son of God, I'm not sure how many pilgrims it would draw.
But all of the preceding has been merely a reaction to sensory stimuli.
We must dig a little deeper through the bullshit to ridicule those folks who obsessively construct a reality from whatever batty dross is kicking around between their ears.
I know that everyone must selectively construct a subjective version of reality from the incoming flow of data passed from the sense to the brain, but some folks appear a wee bit too subjective and not very discriminating when it comes to reality.
Take numerology for example. Anyone with a functioning neuron can cook up an amazing string of coincidences related to numbers and their "significance". My cat was born at 6:13 p.m. This is 18:13 by the 24-hour clock. A cat is sometimes referred to as a "pussy". The President of the United States in the year 1813 was James Madison. By an astounding and significant coincidence, my favorite porn starlet or "pussy" at the time my cat was Madison. Give me enough time and I'll figure out what exactly is astounding and significant about this.
Then there are crop circles. Every single flaming asshole who honestly believes that crop circles are anything more than hoaxes pulled by relatively ingenious folks who are laughing strawberry milk out their noses at the hijinks of cranially impaired whackos is... well... a cranially impaired whacko. Damn, people! Just because something is inconceivable within the cramped confines of your cranium doesn't mean that it's impossible or that it requires antigravity probes sent by aliens. Here the numbers game also plays a part. I've caught snippets of investigative shows focused on the crop circles. At some point, one of the true believers whips out a picture of stalks that have been bent in a curious manner. No human could bend wheat/barley/corn in such a fashion. Give me a freakin' break. After some geometrically talented tricksters stomp a few thousand plants I'll guaranty that you'll find tens, maybe hundreds, that are bent strangely.
Some folks are able to live with their belief handicaps. They kneel before their tortilla or buy a crystal. Other folks work on their version of reality like a security blanket that they use to block out the rest of the world.
As an example, this person feels it is easiest to believe that the twin towers of the World Trade Center were destroyed by the CIA/FBI. As evidence, she posts images of the new $20 bill. Her web site is rife with rantings such as:
On July 10th 2001 I will be 21,000 days old, this is 3000 weeks and is 57.49 years
This is a sign.
On July 5th 2001 at 11:30 PM Melbourne time, the Moon began to pass behind the shadow of the Earth in a Lunar Eclipse.
At that moment I posted the identity of Lucifer today.
It revealed a code based on ancient Roman gematria.
With this code the Polish Pope John Paul II. was identified as Lucifer,
…
The fullness of time is upon us. My age at 21000 days, is the point in time I have determined to be no more.
This number is perfect
12120 days ago, I was 8880 days old, the date my eldest daughter was born May 4th 1968.
1212 x 2 is 2424 and is the word Jesus in the Greek Concordance of the king James bible 1611.
888 is Greek gematria for the word Jesus.
21000 days is also 3000 weeks. 3000 x Pi is 9724.77 and 942 is the number of verses we find the word Jesus in the Word of God.
If you take any body of data and, armed with an agenda, look through it, you are going to find convincing evidence and intriguing patterns of anything you happen to be looking for. Speaking of 9/11, take all the intelligence reports indicating that Al Qaeda planned to fly aircraft into buildings. We never hear about the solid intelligence reports stating that Al Qaeda paratroopers were committed to taking the Hollywood Bowl by force during a Barbra Streisand concert. That's just not significant in retrospect.
How about something that liberals have been hounding conservatives about for years: President Reagan is the antichrist. Ronald (six letters)Wilson (six letters) Reagan (six letters)
So in the end, I'm 100,000% sure that if you took the nonsense word that I cooked up in elementary school (gazoynelblat) and snuck it like a little rancid Easter egg into Jim Morrison's notebook or pushed it like a garlic clove past a twitching sphincter into the rubble of 9/11, that you'd have hoards of morons railing about how, when you multiply the sum of all the alphabetic places with Nostradamus' birthday, you then have solid proof that the Illuminati-dominated U.S. government never landed a man on the moon.
To all these sad, sad, demented people, I would sincerely like to say fuck you and good night. Get a fucking life, you foreskin-wrapped cock suckers.
Pakeha