Post by Deleted on Mar 9, 2007 19:30:52 GMT -5
(What do we make of a wicked little boy who sits in his room and curses the sun and God and all of existence? Is this wicked little boy really so wicked after all? Perhaps if he were trying to correct mistakes of the past we could forgive him, but how do we forgive unspeakable atrocities and perpetual dystopia? How can the market correct itself once the market has turned to complete and utter pandemonium? The answer to any question has to come from within or it will never be pure, it will always be corrupt! Corrupted by fallacies, corrupted by agendas and corrupted by ignorance. The tango of a flame is pure and natural. The struggle between life and death is pure and natural. Perversion and deceit are unacceptable in any and all forms of flawed, untrue and misguided faith! Faith in love is unacceptable! Faith in greed is unacceptable! Faith in beauty is unacceptable! Moth, light, rust, decay and all other indispensable mechanisms will never play to a packed stadium because we take them for granted! It is only once we are deprived and depraved that we finally understand and appreciate our meager and fleeting possessions! Such is the story of Lonnie and Lawnmower Jones. Lonnie and Jones placed their blind faith in a crazy little thing called love. Their storybook romance set the entire world on fire, from Paris to Moscow and all the way to JJ Biggs' house down on South Beach! It's just a shame that certain people such as Bobby Cairo refuse to stand for such utter topical nonsense! Cairo is a man who stands tall for honor and integrity! This is why Cairo behaves in such a manner as he does. Cairo's actions of attempted murder against Lonnie were justified. Nothing could be more beautiful than a burial in black and white. Nothing could be more pure, more sensible, and more complete. Why would Lawnmower Jones disrupt such a proceeding? What was he thinking? We may never know. Maybe he was thinking and doing as a desperate man thinks and does. Cairo, on the other hand, is now thinking and doing as a frustrated man thinks and does. Cairo is a man who was denied what he so craved, denied what he held in such high esteem without placing a false value upon it. Cairo is never a pleasant man, but now the overreaching points of Hell and high-water have been unleashed by Jones' interruption. Cairo is currently in a random office building in Los Angeles. He's actually on quite a rampage today. He's spent most of the morning flipping over desks and throwing chairs across the room like some sort of Bobby Knight showcase. Nobody is quite sure what happened to the employees. Rumor has it that they were abducted by Martians shortly before Cairo arrived this morning. Regardless, Cairo is pissed like Lex Luger in bed with the Iron Sheik and he's not gonna take it anymore.)
BOBBY CAIRO: "Shattered! Shattered! The world is shattered! You interrupted my masterpiece, Jones! I was about to destroy Lonnie once and for all! Why would you ruin my beautiful serenade? What possessed you to commit such atrocity, such heresy? Have I not been a loyal ally in your war upon fear and domination? You displayed an underwhelming amount of discipline and restraint, Jones. A brave man would have seen the prophecy fulfilled to its rightful end, but not you. No, it could never be you, Jones! I have climbed the mountain! I have lambasted the glorious sleigh ride to the top of the hills! I have fucked every beautiful woman! I have destroyed every piece of shit that stood in my way! I will never be the Lady Godiva of the WCF! I will never strip myself of pride and dignity and whore myself to the world! I will take my rightful place atop the fields of punishment! I will conquer, control and eliminate all threats to my safety! Any who compromise my return to the fold shall perish in my wake! Are you familiar with the story of Robin Hood, Mr. Jones? Robin Hood was the self-proclaimed 'Prince of Thieves'. The liberal media would have you believe that he stole from the rich and gave to the poor out of the kindness of his heart. The truth is that Robin Hood was a selfish, lazy piece of garbage who blamed others for his heroin addiction and his resulting ovarian cancer that ultimately killed him! You are the modern day Robin Hood, Mr. Jones! You wreak havoc and belligerence upon others and you deny all responsibility for the consequences! I am your undoing, Mr. Jones! I am your Waterloo! I am the Papa Shango to your Ultimate Warrior! You writhe in agony because of my actions! I am your will to POWER!!!!!!"
(How does one survive when thoughts are racing at a million miles per second in the infinite catacombs of human absolution? What alternative does one encompass once a prayer for forgiveness has been rejected? Perhaps that is not the pertinent question. Perhaps one should instead inquire as to the following: If a prayer for forgiveness is delivered upon the harsh wings of divinity and quivering hysteria, how can we be certain that such a prayer won't simply fall upon the deaf ears of dying demigods? If this theory were fact, then perhaps forgiveness is nothing more than a relative human condition? Success cannot be slighted by the opinions of a rude, loudmouthed asshole. Such an asshole exists only to further his agenda. If the asshole cannot be removed from this plain of existence due to governmental restrictions on acts of homicide, then the asshole must be ignored. An asshole ignored can harm none other than himself. If he gets desperate and acts out of line, he may give you justifiable provocation for ending his life. No jury in this country will convict you if you act upon such provocation. Trust me.)
BOBBY CAIRO: "The vile weed of Seth Lerch has booked me in a triple threat dance of death against two challengers, Daniel Vice and Conrad Howell! Mr. Vice and Mr. Howell, I will offer you some words of wisdom: Do not tempt the wrath of the damned! Do not poke the cage! Do not deny the brazen abrasions of a thousand fallen empires! Your raison d’être is not my act of contrition! The incantation and immolation of a dying mythmaker shall slaughter your souls and depose of your eyes! Your visions will be lost and never found by the inquests of heathens or the siren songs of wretched whores! Perhaps Judge Mills Lane will come to your rescue and spring an escape clause in your contract? Oh wait, he's dead! HAHAHA!!!!!!!!! The twisted tale of Hell knows no bounds! The streets inside my mind are paved in fire, ash and eternal decay! What answer will you have on Sunday, Daniel Vice? What answer will you have on Sunday, Conrad Howell? Will you meet your bitter, psychotic downfall just as Lonnie and Lawnmower Jones or will you meet my challenge and survive this perverse doomsday machine? Victory is inconsequential, gentlemen. Survival is a necessity. Without survival you will suffer an infinity of rape and pillage! The Demon Lord himself will devour your very remains! Survival is to advance and vanquish thine enemies! Blood will be worn as an ornament of the victorious and a proclamation of demise for the fallen!"
(Polar parallels and alternating opposites form a sort of universal puppet show. Who is the puppet master? It might be a higher power. It might be the politicians. It might even be the nihilists. All that we know for sure is that the dangling carrot at the end of the line is not ours upon which to chomp. Figure skating is not a sport, tangerine is a fruit, and merry tales of jubilant crime sprees are not coming to an end any time soon. Hidden in the subconscious mind of every human being is a serial killer. When the trigger snaps, the carnage will encapsulate the Earth.)
BOBBY CAIRO: "Do you hear that sound, Mr. Vice? Do you hear that sound, Mr. Howell? That's the sound of your insides crumbling! That's the sound of cosmic waves crushing your worthless existence! Pull your heads out of the gutter, infidels! Expound philosophies the world over to send shivers up their spines! To hell with outsiders! To hell with insiders! Speak your mind and rise to meet the challenge or suffer the consequences! The Man of the Hour is rising, rising like so many of nature's pentagrams! Have you ever looked into the eyes of a young buck out in the wilderness? Have you ever seen the fire and smoke down deep in his soul? Do you know the evil in his motives and the secrecy of his schemes? You know nothing! NOTHING!!!!!!!"
(Regurgitated globules of romance permeate throughout these premises. In other words, the foul stench of love cheddar is in the air. Near and far and all across the land, the anticipation is building for the hot action that only a greasy night of professional wrestling can provide. If the members of the rock band Sparta can enjoy themselves at a WSX show, then why must we question the motives of anybody in that locker room? We must question their motives because the healthy hearth of the suicide swath will have it no other way! Riches will never go to the embarrassed, but embarrassment is often a vice of the rich. Blackmail sends them on a spiral staircase to Gossamer’s grand underworld. A phantasm for the weary becomes the lustful pull of an ancient Hollywood madam. Maggie Gyllenhaal transforms into a haggard old woman before your very eyes!)
BOBBY CAIRO: "A mess of spattered nerves! A mass of convoluted convulsions! Hairy beasts of burden trample through the wooded regions only to get knocked the fuck out! I flex my muscles like Barry Bonds on a good day and I never look back! I can tapdance like a madman, but I chose to be a wrestler because I enjoy sending inferior lifeforms to an early grave! I don't masturbate because I don't have to masturbate! A man of my credentials gets whatever the hell he wants, whenever the hell he wants it! If Bucky Carter don't like it, then Bucky Carter can catch a New York City taxicab upside his torso and his apropos! That don't mean digging in the dirt with farm implements! Cut it and run it, son!"
(Hanging halos from the stars is a hobby of the elitist inside each and every one of us. We pride ourselves on perfection because perfection is the standard of the gods. Blood becomes a sweet nectar and flesh becomes a holiday feast as our opponents fall to the Earth in a most ghastly manner, with a sword up the ass and snakes in their belly!)
BOBBY CAIRO: "Shattered! Shattered! The world is shattered! You interrupted my masterpiece, Jones! I was about to destroy Lonnie once and for all! Why would you ruin my beautiful serenade? What possessed you to commit such atrocity, such heresy? Have I not been a loyal ally in your war upon fear and domination? You displayed an underwhelming amount of discipline and restraint, Jones. A brave man would have seen the prophecy fulfilled to its rightful end, but not you. No, it could never be you, Jones! I have climbed the mountain! I have lambasted the glorious sleigh ride to the top of the hills! I have fucked every beautiful woman! I have destroyed every piece of shit that stood in my way! I will never be the Lady Godiva of the WCF! I will never strip myself of pride and dignity and whore myself to the world! I will take my rightful place atop the fields of punishment! I will conquer, control and eliminate all threats to my safety! Any who compromise my return to the fold shall perish in my wake! Are you familiar with the story of Robin Hood, Mr. Jones? Robin Hood was the self-proclaimed 'Prince of Thieves'. The liberal media would have you believe that he stole from the rich and gave to the poor out of the kindness of his heart. The truth is that Robin Hood was a selfish, lazy piece of garbage who blamed others for his heroin addiction and his resulting ovarian cancer that ultimately killed him! You are the modern day Robin Hood, Mr. Jones! You wreak havoc and belligerence upon others and you deny all responsibility for the consequences! I am your undoing, Mr. Jones! I am your Waterloo! I am the Papa Shango to your Ultimate Warrior! You writhe in agony because of my actions! I am your will to POWER!!!!!!"
(How does one survive when thoughts are racing at a million miles per second in the infinite catacombs of human absolution? What alternative does one encompass once a prayer for forgiveness has been rejected? Perhaps that is not the pertinent question. Perhaps one should instead inquire as to the following: If a prayer for forgiveness is delivered upon the harsh wings of divinity and quivering hysteria, how can we be certain that such a prayer won't simply fall upon the deaf ears of dying demigods? If this theory were fact, then perhaps forgiveness is nothing more than a relative human condition? Success cannot be slighted by the opinions of a rude, loudmouthed asshole. Such an asshole exists only to further his agenda. If the asshole cannot be removed from this plain of existence due to governmental restrictions on acts of homicide, then the asshole must be ignored. An asshole ignored can harm none other than himself. If he gets desperate and acts out of line, he may give you justifiable provocation for ending his life. No jury in this country will convict you if you act upon such provocation. Trust me.)
BOBBY CAIRO: "The vile weed of Seth Lerch has booked me in a triple threat dance of death against two challengers, Daniel Vice and Conrad Howell! Mr. Vice and Mr. Howell, I will offer you some words of wisdom: Do not tempt the wrath of the damned! Do not poke the cage! Do not deny the brazen abrasions of a thousand fallen empires! Your raison d’être is not my act of contrition! The incantation and immolation of a dying mythmaker shall slaughter your souls and depose of your eyes! Your visions will be lost and never found by the inquests of heathens or the siren songs of wretched whores! Perhaps Judge Mills Lane will come to your rescue and spring an escape clause in your contract? Oh wait, he's dead! HAHAHA!!!!!!!!! The twisted tale of Hell knows no bounds! The streets inside my mind are paved in fire, ash and eternal decay! What answer will you have on Sunday, Daniel Vice? What answer will you have on Sunday, Conrad Howell? Will you meet your bitter, psychotic downfall just as Lonnie and Lawnmower Jones or will you meet my challenge and survive this perverse doomsday machine? Victory is inconsequential, gentlemen. Survival is a necessity. Without survival you will suffer an infinity of rape and pillage! The Demon Lord himself will devour your very remains! Survival is to advance and vanquish thine enemies! Blood will be worn as an ornament of the victorious and a proclamation of demise for the fallen!"
(Polar parallels and alternating opposites form a sort of universal puppet show. Who is the puppet master? It might be a higher power. It might be the politicians. It might even be the nihilists. All that we know for sure is that the dangling carrot at the end of the line is not ours upon which to chomp. Figure skating is not a sport, tangerine is a fruit, and merry tales of jubilant crime sprees are not coming to an end any time soon. Hidden in the subconscious mind of every human being is a serial killer. When the trigger snaps, the carnage will encapsulate the Earth.)
BOBBY CAIRO: "Do you hear that sound, Mr. Vice? Do you hear that sound, Mr. Howell? That's the sound of your insides crumbling! That's the sound of cosmic waves crushing your worthless existence! Pull your heads out of the gutter, infidels! Expound philosophies the world over to send shivers up their spines! To hell with outsiders! To hell with insiders! Speak your mind and rise to meet the challenge or suffer the consequences! The Man of the Hour is rising, rising like so many of nature's pentagrams! Have you ever looked into the eyes of a young buck out in the wilderness? Have you ever seen the fire and smoke down deep in his soul? Do you know the evil in his motives and the secrecy of his schemes? You know nothing! NOTHING!!!!!!!"
(Regurgitated globules of romance permeate throughout these premises. In other words, the foul stench of love cheddar is in the air. Near and far and all across the land, the anticipation is building for the hot action that only a greasy night of professional wrestling can provide. If the members of the rock band Sparta can enjoy themselves at a WSX show, then why must we question the motives of anybody in that locker room? We must question their motives because the healthy hearth of the suicide swath will have it no other way! Riches will never go to the embarrassed, but embarrassment is often a vice of the rich. Blackmail sends them on a spiral staircase to Gossamer’s grand underworld. A phantasm for the weary becomes the lustful pull of an ancient Hollywood madam. Maggie Gyllenhaal transforms into a haggard old woman before your very eyes!)
BOBBY CAIRO: "A mess of spattered nerves! A mass of convoluted convulsions! Hairy beasts of burden trample through the wooded regions only to get knocked the fuck out! I flex my muscles like Barry Bonds on a good day and I never look back! I can tapdance like a madman, but I chose to be a wrestler because I enjoy sending inferior lifeforms to an early grave! I don't masturbate because I don't have to masturbate! A man of my credentials gets whatever the hell he wants, whenever the hell he wants it! If Bucky Carter don't like it, then Bucky Carter can catch a New York City taxicab upside his torso and his apropos! That don't mean digging in the dirt with farm implements! Cut it and run it, son!"
(Hanging halos from the stars is a hobby of the elitist inside each and every one of us. We pride ourselves on perfection because perfection is the standard of the gods. Blood becomes a sweet nectar and flesh becomes a holiday feast as our opponents fall to the Earth in a most ghastly manner, with a sword up the ass and snakes in their belly!)
