Envy, Chico:10, 6006 YD
Archive for November, 2006
Lust, Chico:9, 6006 YD
I’ve been reading lately that some non-Discordians (as if there is such a thing) are finding some people who identify Discordian as ‘annoying’, ‘pompous’, ‘self-righteous’, and generally a huge pain in the ass. My initial response was “So?” . . . which created some sort of immediate connection in my mind. Suddenly, I had it! Eureka, as Archimedes might exclaim in just such a situation. I knew why some people are completely put off by Discordianism – its the same reason so many people loathe cats: We don’t give a shit what you think, and don’t try to hide it.
Like cats, Discordians will not be convinced of things simply because someone tells us so. Discordians do as they please, without fear of not being ‘included’. Discordians are not easy to bully, which, I believe, is a huge factor in their apparent unpopularity as well.
Granted, all these arguments could be made for people who don’t identify as Discordian, but the difference seems to be that your average Discordian (if such a thing can be fathomed) sees the double-edged sword for what it is, and dances along both its edges. Discordianism, for all its possible downfalls, is not a lazy path; every single Discordian I know works dilligently on ways to bring these concepts to cabbages in a way that can be somewhat easily digested.
People, generally speaking, aren’t used to concepts that actually incourage thinking on your own, so this concept frightens a lot of them in ways they probably aren’t ready to openly discuss; even with themselves. Most every other ideology, philosophy, or concept relies on you swallowing some form of dogma – and dogma kills not only creativity, but almost all forms of thinking. Discordianism is opposed to this concept, which is really about as close to dogma as you get in Discordianism, the rest is up to you. Free thinking, to many people, is closely assosiated with fringe-terrorisism and anarchy. Individual thought is something to be avoided.
Do I claim to spout Big T ‘Truth’? Certainly not . . . I don’t know that such a thing even exists . . . but I will certainly tell what I beleive to be either true or relevent to anyone who will listen, and then it is up to them to decide whether they find merit in what I have to say. It’s how I treat the opinions of others, and I wouldn’t expect any other reaction.
Greed, Chico:8, 6006 YD
Pride, Chico:7, 6006 YD
It has been said by many so-called ‘adepts’ that big-T Truth can be found anywhere, if you know where to look for it. With that in mind, I decided to contemplate my favourite movie quote of all time, as seemingly inane as it is, which is from ‘The Shining’(1980), and is: “Pink and Gold are my favorite colors.”
The quotation wouldn’t be inappropriate as a code used to express interest in matters of alchemical knowledge, as the sentence expresses just such an interest in a somewhat vague, but still rather direct manner:
The sentence is a formula for the alchemical method of enlightenment. The colours are obviously the central point of the quote, which is apt as colour was so important to ancient alchemists since before the advent of modern chemistry the changing of colour often provided the only proof of transformation in an experiment.
While pink is often associated with strictly feminine principles it actually represents, in alchemy, the union of opposites: red, the kingly colour, is associated with sulphur and the sun; while white is the feminine, the queen of the opus, associated with mercury and the moon. Together, joined in union, they are pink – this is literally the motto ‘Solve et Coagula’ at work.
Gold is more obviously linked to alchemy for the average cabbage on the street, being the known goal of transmutationists throughout history, but Carl Jung, in “Psychology and Alchemy”, launched a bold attack on the notion of alchemy as a quest for physical gold; he claimed the alchemists were perpetually using code and riddle to disguise the true goal: philosophical gold (lapis aethereus).
So, ‘gold’ is essentially the desired end product of the alchemical quest, and ‘pink’ is the method to obtain the ‘gold’. The formula is complete.
Sloth, Chico:6, 6006 YD
St.Beefheart being interviewed by David Letterman:
Wrath, Chico:5, 6006 YD
On this Fifth day of the month of Chico, we again celebrate the life and legacy of St.Chico Marx.
The second oldest of the five Marx Brothers, and visibly almost identical with older brother Harpo, his nickname was originally “Chicko” due to his tendency to ‘chicken-peck’ the keys of the piano when he played one-handed. St.Chico was a talented pianist despite the fact that St.Groucho once claimed that St.Chico never practiced the pieces he played. Before performances he would soak his fingers in warm Palmolive before going on instead. He was known for “shooting” the keys of the piano; as part of the act he would play passages with his thumb up and index finger straight — like a gun. He originally started playing with only his right hand and fake playing with his left, because his immigrant teacher did so herself, eventually he learned to perform almost any feat requiring two hands with only a single hand – in fact St.Chico is the only person on record to successfully solve the Zen riddle “What is the sound of one hand clapping?” – although he never revealed the answer to anyone.
For a time St.Chico led a big band; young Mel Torme began his professional career singing with the Chico Marx Orchestra, and St.Chico himself taught Torme how to scat, the style of singing he himself had invented, apparently because he found words “boring and utterly tedious”.
St.Chico was a compulsive gambler, which usually kept him short of funds, and which compelled him to continue in show business long after his brothers had retired in comfort from their Hollywood income. He kept on his person at all times a set of gold dice, the snake-eye on each die showing only a small ‘k’, and when rolling was often overheard to murmer: “Luck be a Goddess tonight”.
By the Gregorian calendar he was born on the 22nd day of March 1889, and died on the 11th day of October 1961.
Gluttony, Chico:4, 6006 YD
“When someone says “I identify as Discordian,” or whatnot, that is a short, buzz-wordy way of saying, “if you want to know who I am and what I am about, you’re gonna have to ask me directly. I am not a definition in a book, I am not a collective, I am not a broad brushstroke of society. I will not be sorted, filed, stamped, briefed, de-briefed, or numbered.”
Envy, Chico:3, 6006 YD
For the record, this is not my video, and I had nothing to do with it’s creation. I merely add it here due to its supposed connections to Discordianism and Illuminatism.
I strongly suspect that the makers of the video aren’t Discordian as they claim, however I could be wrong. I’ve yet to come across a single person who identifies themself as Discordian who uses terms like “filthy porn” or “commie” with a straight face; of course, having said that, people (and Discordians) come in all shapes, sizes, and mentalities – not only that, I certainly haven’t met all the Discordians in the world, so who knows? If they are Discordian I think they could use some brushing up on their E-Prime.
At any rate, here is the video if you are interested in viewing it. You might want to turn down the volume on your speakers – I found the music completely putrescent, and I think it shaved a few days off my life. You’ve been warned.
-Baron von Hoopla
Lust, Chico:2, 6006 YD
Chico the second is the birth date of one of my favourite Discordian Saints: Judge Phantly Roy Bean. Because of this, we at the E.’. E.’. name Chico the second as St. Bean’s Day henceforth.
Phantly Roy Bean was a saloon-keeper, and arbitrary judge who called himself “The Law West of the Pecos”. Discordian legend tells that Judge Roy Bean held court sessions in his saloon along the Rio Grande River in a desolate stretch of the Chihuahuan Desert of West Texas.
As a youth Judge Bean was accosted on a stretch of road by a group of bandits, (or native americans, legends differ on the details) he was attacked ruthlessly and left for dead amongst the cacti. He survived for fifteen days by murdering armadillos and cracking them open for moisture – on the fifteenth day the Judge had a vision of a woman with golden hair who called herself “the Heiress”, she gave Bean the strength to pick himself up and make his way on foot to a nearby town called Langtry, which would be his home for the rest of his life. He believed the Heiress to be a goddess who had spared his life so that he may make the world over in his idea of her image.
Roy built a saloon he named the Heiress that also served as his home. He hung a tattered picture he himself had drawn of his vision behind the bar. Above the door he posted signs proclaiming “ICE COLD BEER” and “LAW WEST OF THE PECOS.” From there Roy Bean dispensed liquor, justice, and legends, including that he himself had named the town in honor of the actress Lillie Langtry on the Heiress’ bidding. He was elected to office in 1884 and re-elected many times.
His court methods were arbitrary and comical and inspired many outrageous tales. His court paraphernalia included only one revolver, one law book and a pet bear named Boopsie. It is said that, when performing marriage ceremonies, he always ended the service by saying “And may the Goddess have mercy on what is left of your soul.”
Judge Roy Bean was a merciless dispenser of justice, often called “The Hangin’ Judge, having sent a record 23,00 men and two women to the gallows during his career. He was quoted often to have said “and there’s LOTS more where they came from!”
Actor Michael Richards probably would have liked Judge Roy Bean a hell of a lot, since one of Bean’s most outrageous rulings occurred when an Irishman was accused of killing a Chinese American worker. Friends of the accused threatened to destroy the Heiress if the Irishman was found guilty. Court in session, Bean browsed through his law book, turning page after page, searching for a legal precedent. Finally, rapping his pistol on the bar, he proclaimed, “Gentlemen, I find the law very explicit on murdering your fellow man, but there’s nothing here about killing a Chinaman. Case dismissed.”
In 1896 Bean organized the world championship boxing title bout between Bob Fitzsimmons and Peter Maher on an carnival island in middle of the Rio Grande, because boxing matches were illegal in Texas. The resulting sport reports spread his fame throughout the United States, as well as convincing a young Don King to enter into the world of boxing.
Greed, Chico:1, 6006 YD
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