DATING?

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I saw something very disturbing today on my computer. My computer and I have formed a tight bond most likely due to the lack of interesting or worthwhile people to occupy space and time with. But, I saw this disturbing set of words on my computer screen today. Normally I am able to say "OK computer, you can slack a little, but please, please, try to keep the spam to a minimum." Uh, thank you. Not today. I was hyper-focused on some set of demented microbe/cyber formations of words. I was trying to write a bit about something I know a lot about, when all of a sudden, a smaller block screen rose up in front of my project that wanted to know my interests. First off, I know my computer does not give a fuck about what I am interested in since I have to tell it where to go all the time. But, much worse were one of the options next to the check-box list of "supposed" limited interests: DATING? WHO THE FUCK FINDS DATING INTERESTING? What does one do on a date? Or is it before the date that is most um, interesting? Get dressed? Why get dressed for someone else? Let alone get in the shower. Really, Is there not more interesting things to do? And what is expected of one on a date? What is it? A date? Do people actually still do that? FUCK MAN! Sounds like a complete unnecessary mission. What is it? He pays for dinner and then she rewards him with a bit of pretense of procreation? Or is it go with other dates and have a date filled evening? What do they do? Go to the movies? The Bar? The hot dance club? Do they talk? What do they say? They must be incredibly uncomfortable or, more disgustingly, horny pigs. I think that horny pigs should just skip the date and fuck. I mean, if that is all two people want from each other, why waste time with all the boring lallygagging? People are so strange to me. Hot dates on a hot Friday night. Why is Friday such a big deal anyway? All the miserable nine to fivers get a measly two days away from slavery? What is it that makes the weekend "party-time?" Why not party everyday? Why wait? People make no sense to me I'm afraid. And flirting, now that is a crock of malarkey. All these little games people play. They take up so much time. Why is it so strange to me? It always has been. Yeah, hot date tonight. I'd rather pick my nose and read. Stab at my keyboard and see a world of words, that I control (usually), assemble before me like my head split open and my brains got sucked into the computer monitor and the knowledge and the horrid spelling these days make for unpleasant contrast. Hot Date? Get real. Boooooring. Stabbing and reading make more sense to me. HA!-Henry O'Malley  

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Hexastix V

Whoah, finally. I am able now. I am able to tell you about book V of the Hexastix. I ran my face under some cold water and washed my hands twice. Anyway, after I "defeated" all the tasks I was to undergo before admission to book V-The Justice Sticks I was thrown into some kind of trance. My recollection of what I experienced during this trance is confined to an informative voice. The voice was monotonous, yet hypnotic and easy on the ears. The voice began its monologue thus: Greetings believer and congratulations for your successful mastery of the five trials set before you. It is now time for you to partake in the knowledge of Hexastix: justice. Book V is always read aloud to the master of trials. It is accessible only to The First Voice of the Hexastix. We are no foolish pacifists. We take our culture very seriously and have no stomach for prejudice, ridicule, or violence. It is, however, perfectly justifiable to commit violence as an act of self-defense. If we are attacked, we do not stand and gape. HARK! Before justice is administered to the blackguard HARK I SAY!!! The Song of Allegiance to the Stick-people must resound before the deed, eye for an eye, but not to the point of stupidity.
                                             The Song of Allegiance to the Stick-people


Pity, pity, those that abuse us, for we are masters of a sacred valve: If that valve be beaten or ridiculed because of its nature, the perpetrator shall see hell. If you come upon us with weapons or blood-thirsty fists-these actions are returned in kind, but far more brutal as to express the exaggerated ignorance that crushes your skull and needles into your delusional brain.
CHANT:
"I've got my rights."
"I don't have to take that from you."
"Or do you not know that the sticks will judge the world?"
"I say this to your shame. Is it so, that there is not among you one wise man"
"You yourselves wrong and defraud"
"Now, satisfied with your iron fists and large weapons, you may feast upon the torment you have unjustifiably thrust unto the peaceful bodies and souls of my brethren and sister-en" 


Be careful what you say regarding the Stick-people.
Take care not to use physical violence, stupidly., against our minority.

Is this what you want?

Or perhaps this?

This is a possibility as well:

OR THIS?!

Sweet dreams! Ain't feelin' so superior? Tragic!
OR THIS!

Terrible cramping accompanied by a persistent sensation not unlike being stabbed in the balls.

Just quiet. Tact. Zip. It would make much more sense for you to genuflect before the invisible Father behind the stars than to use iron fists or any such advanced weaponry on my brethren and sister-en

DO YOU REALLY WANT THIS?.

  Hence the end of the fifth book of sticks-The Hexastix. Mind you, it is always unfortunate to have to take such stringent measures in order to preserve our dignity. The choice is yours. Think.

This information has been taken verbatim from the First Voice of the Hexastix. Watch yourself. Ignorance can kill you.

_Henry O'Malley

I Henry, unmedicated.

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March 28, 1986

Dear Piece of Paper,

I can see the movement of my mother’s mouth. I can hear her words. I understand them perfectly. But she is not here or there. She wrings her hands, says “Stop grimacing!” I know nothing of grimacing. The conductor waves his wand and the penetration of wavy grasses and orphan-like trees embrace the color red. The penetration is a tattoo. My mother has no tattoos, but she knows Jesus and is quite fond of Him. The sand causes the house to slide. No one knows, but the stick-people, and the barn wears the wind like a cross, He said “You can go now,” and so I retired to my room, alone, waiting for the right temperature.

FRAUD!!!!

Nice try Crooked Serpent.
You are kidding me!
Santa is Dead.

13 TRAPPED MINERS (a poem by Henry O'Malley)

When most people are wicked-
ain't that the truth-
coal must come to those
ne'er do wells by the thousands.
Millions, mining, accident, KILLED.
All for YOUR bad behavior.
Thousands of fatalities-
because all you people
are almost as bad as Caligula.
Merry Christmas.
Have fun at the mall
being ripped off
and forget about Christ...
only presents you think...
yeah, well, hell coal!
And the poor bastards
that had to dig it up for
your wretched stocking.
Merry Christmas.
Not even coal
would you get
if I were President.
Humanity=nothing for Christmas, not even coal.
MERRY MAKE BELIEVE DEVILRY!

I am Scatology: I am Scatology: I Love trash and disorder, therefore I function,

I am Scatology: I am Scatology: I Love trash and disorder, therefore I function,

I am Scatology: ...On Major Depression...

I am Scatology: ...On Major Depression...

HECK-SA-STIX PART V

Yep. It has been a long, long, time since I have been able to coherently join my words and form a complete sentence. HECK!!!! It is a bitch!!! Thank you Clorazil. I do not remember much of what has taken place in my life over the past month and, say, one week. Who cares right?! I certainly do not. I take an apathy pill every morning and transform: human to Vulcan...you know like that Spock guy. Highly Illogical!!!!! And because I have been off the subject (Hexastix) for so long you ALL probably do not even remember what this shit is all about that I am going to abruptly continue as if I never went AWOL. A wall. I was staring at a wall for more than five days. And I know no one gives a shit and most of you have no idea what I am so gabbing on about, but I can assure you "HEXASTIX FOR DUMMIES" shall be published shortly after. I personally enjoy accommodating. To hell with annotations!!! They cause attention-deficit-disorder. I was working so hard I forgot to take my medication and IFRANKMASTER almost rolled around the bend of my brain faster than a speeding speed freak superman fuck tweak! But, alas, no. I am Henry. And I want you to know, invisible audience, EXACTLY what I WENT THROUGH to obtain the information I needed to gain information on Hexastix-book V. It was fucking hell and damnation! Jesus yippity Christ Christmas! Well, FUCK!!! I will just lay it on the table for you all so you can not appreciate it! I work for myself. What more can I expect? Exactly. Highly illogical to expect any more. Maybe, if you can spare an eyeball or two, just go back over the previous books to set the mood for my revelations. KEEP IN MIND: this is only what I WENT THROUGH to obtain the information and not the information itself. That is a whole different story. These stories must be told separately (and without neologisms) because they are too significant to lump together. Highly illogical-that lumping together.
                                                        HEXASTIX: BOOK V- THE TOIL.

Book V-"The Justice Sticks"
Very complicated this one.
Here is a short summary of what is to come: There comes a time, once, maybe even twice upon a time, that, unfortunately, we, the stick-people and believers, must defend ourselves physically. Keep in mind, we do not believe in steroids....that is cheating. Unchivalrous. Oops, a neologism, excuse me. ATTENTION!!!! And mind you we are not pushovers and dare not  turn the other cheek so that the perpetrator can pound it to a pulp. Highly illogical. That is just pure stupidity and, might I add, masochism. Suffer thee children!!! NO!!! ATTENTION!! We do not play that foolish game of Mr. Martyr Pants. Peh. Anyhow, there exist such ignoramuses that allow prejudice and intolerance of diversity to rule their testosterone or progesterone levels, thus causing a phenomena commonly known as an "ANGRY MOB" a.k.a. "HIGHLY ILLOGICAL SHIT FOR BRAINS POSSE." I will not apologize for self-defense when it is absolutely necessary. We are just as good at playing Romans and Spartans on steroids as any poor fool. Anyhow. Five steps. I had to complete these grueling tasks in order to attain the (privilege) information necessary for me to explicate "The Justice Sticks." And on I go. Pacifist idiots ideologically crippled AWAY! None of you would understand. Go find something better to do than complain about "necessary" self-defense-like go get your asses ripped to shreds by blockheads. AH-HA!
Task one: 
"Have Gun Will Travel reads the card of a (wo)man.
A knight without armor in a savage land.

His/her fast gun for hire head's the calling wind.
A soldier of fortune is the man called Paladin and/or the Noble Women of Tortosa in Aragon.

Paladin, Noble Women, Paladin, Noble Women,
Where do you roam?
Paladin,Noble Women, Paladin, Noble Women, 
Far, far from home."

Keep this little ditty in mind when shoppin' for knowledge my brethren and sistern.

TASK ONE: I must defeat the ghost of Kontesteronia (Greek Goddess of chess and, of course, a believer) at her own area of expertise. No joke. I had to outwit her. Twenty hours of exhausting intellect. But, to my good luck Hades decided to show up and "BOO" her, heckle her into a fit of rage so great as to infiltrate her mastery, her guard down for a split second and I took advantage of it with a double rook sacrifice. "I Won." I said. "It is amazing what powers medication gives to you commoners." said Kontesteronia. And off she went throwing boulders at Hades as he cackled down a hole in the ground. They were gone. I had completed the first task. Success!
TASK TWO: Convince American Republican Congressman Tancredo that he is Gloria Steinem. By Jiminy! What hardship!!! It was great though! All I had to do was take out a rifle and say "Let us take back America and drink ten shots of jack!" and he was all ears! I never actually drank Jack. I drank tainted water. He got the alcohol though, boy he did! Passed out American Republican Congressman Tancredo went from this:  
                                                                  Oh No Tancredo!!!!

 

to this:

in no time. When he came to I said "Hey Pal-take-back-America you sure is lookin' fine teeday!" I simply handed him a mirror. When he saw Gloria reflect back at him he vomited, pissed his pants, and shouted "I, Gloria Steinem, guh, guh, No! What! Hell! Get out!! Oh Lord, My Father!!!!" He then passed out. It was an awful experience for him I will admit, but I must add that he is very insecure without his face and that just doesn't reek of bravery to me. Task Accomplished!

TASK THREE: My hands certainly suffered from this one. I had to "hand-write" 25,000 letters to the United States Federal Government to inform them that there are in fact many of us "down here" that KNOW "our" country is not a true democracy. We know that it is in fact a Monarchy under the guise of a Democracy and that The Senate should be properly renamed "Maniacs," The President "Father Herod," and that those "ruling" this country like to pretend they are Romans. Yes, the little Roman games they play like homosexual tigers batting at mice....usurpers, pretenses, cough, cough. We live in a poorly disguised caste system and slavery has not, in fact, been abolished, but is still quite alive and all around us. WE KNOW. WE WATCH YOU TOO. BIG SISTER SEES ALL, HEARS ALL AND IS MUCH MORE CLEVER THAN YOUR BIG BROTHER. You like us to abide by the delusion  "land of the free, home of the brave." Some big comic book, video game charade in which the hero wields a great big weapon and kills the most bad guys. I have to hand it to mankind: the side that has the most murdered human beings wins-brilliant!!! This really solves every problem I could ever think of. Never-mind using our brains.....listen to the almighty male hormone...KILL...KILL...YOU WRONG ME RIGHT KILL...KILL. All so very highly logical concepts. We also know that that separation of church and state thing was a pretty silly game of make believe too...you sneaky critters you! The U.S.A. is a mental illness, what? I thought I just heard a bird. Lovely.

Yours free of charge,

                                                                            Caligula.

TASK FOUR: Re-arrange Stonehenge. Just great. What am I? Fucking Atlas? Okay. Keep it cool. After all, I've accomplished some heavy duty tasks...by all means...I pulled them off with, one might say, finesse. So, Stonehenge, no big deal, just a lot of feng shui shit and manipulation of stone.....muscle. English County, Wilshire....I hitched rides with several unbearable clap-trappers. Goodbye. This is my stop. Ah, Stonehenge. Very mysterious. Just never, ever, tell me I have to go to London. New York ten times worse. Metro-bots everywhere. So cool to live in the cit-tay! Yes. Yes. Well, anyhow, not only do I have to re-arrange stonehenge, but I have to make a pillar or whatever those stone extraterrestrial "mysteries" are called out of Tony Blair's face!!!! WTF!!! And that is not all-I have to get the symbol of Justice to fit in between the pillars, stones, whatnot as well!!! Tough I tell you. Tough.

Just take a look here and tell me I am one hell of a crafty man! Once I got started though, I could not stop! I even paid homage to the Queen with a special propaganda message included for the good not just of England alone, but the whole World!!! Success!!!

TASK FIVE: Still alive. Ha ha ha ha. Task five was really, thankfully, a breeze. I love to ask people questions. It is kind of funny how people do not really feel comfortable answering questions. The truth of the matter is, I am afraid, that they will not know the answer. They feel embarrassed..perhaps. Anyhow, my final task was quite simple: I had to ask twenty-three common folk if they believe in God and why. I even went out of my way to shake their hands without condescension ( of course, all I could think of was scrubbing my hands afterward in boiling water with a heavy anti-bacterial product). Did you ever see God? Is God sexless? When you think of God do you imagine a man or a woman? Maybe even some kind of amorphous entity? Why do you think it is that you think such of God? After probing about a bit I had to give them the drill. I had to ask them "Have you ever seen the Stick-people?" and "Have you ever seen God?" alternately exactly ten times before I thanked them for their time. Some were a bit shaken I have to admit, but that usually happens when one does not think much about much and is suddenly asked to use the old upper-story. Some even dared look at me like I was a raving lunatic. But, really if you think about the question, it really is quite reasonable and, if you are lucky you will learn from that question. I personally think it should be the prerequisite before entering secondary or high school. I will be back with the knowledge of The Justice Sticks. I have to go smoke a pack of cigarettes now. Statistically schizophrenics are known to smoke compulsively. I am but a tiny speck of that statistic. Good day.

Lex Talionis,

Henry O'Malley

.