From: (kevbob)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: funny
Date: Mon, 01 Dec 1997 18:16:17 -0500
Organization: the end of the beginning
Lines: 288
Message-ID: <>
X-newsreader: MT-NewsWatcher 2.2.2

don't tell me that, i'm still tender.
you thought you were so wrong, funny, you are.

funny. ha.  the good old days, ah, yes.

you made me beleive that some things were worth beleiving in.
i don't know how you did it.  but you never did it again, monkey.

no way.

pull the skin, make it pretty.

no way.

set in concrete, watch me boil.

no way.

come my way, time served.

be the ball.      oh.

yell, yell the way you use to, they ARE listening now, aren't they.  they
never listened,

oh, they WILL hear you out.  you'll see to that.

no way.

never again.  disrupt my tao, NOW, fanboy, do it do it do it do it do it
do it do it do it.

awaken it, hearken to it, be the ball, wash the timidity free in the
cleansing blow of your spineless/meandering/wantonly void structure of


it heard you.  you have done IT.

gee, ain't ya proud?  you've interupted the dream that is its only
reality.  you have pissed into the blackness under the bridge of where it
dwells.  the hidden is now HERE. 






the end of the beginning,

is now.

why did you do it?  don't they listen to you, your
friends/compadres/asslickers?  why did you cry fire?  are you a kitten
stuck in a tree, waiting impatiently for the hook and ladder?  didn't your
granma already phone the fire department to rescue you?  didn't she
*CARE*?  damn her then, along with them all, i understand.

you think i don't understand, but i do.

for i am you, were you, would be you if not for

one thing.

you have a soul.  you have a center.  you have peace.

you have that feeling deep inside that you ARE special and that they DO
care.  you have that specialness about you that they all WANT to be
around.  you have that unconscious knowledge


stupid cow.  you heard the storm and now you lay in the shit of your
kind.  and it's not that you

do not notice.

you are oblivious to the foulness that ya'll produce.  the natural psychic
feces that you leave behind that MARKS you as what you are.  what you
belong to. what you are a member of. 

but to me, it either tranquilizes or incenses.

and you NEVER let sleeping dogs lie,

do you?  no, of course not, because you are

wunderkind, fan boy, lead cow.

but cattle have no leaders, cattle have a front.  if the front is removed,
what is left defaults into place.

and it/i/them/notyou KNOWS that. 


that is why it breathed deep of the poppy fields your kind left, so as not
to feelthepain/seethelight/hearyouspeak.

but that wasn't good enough.

you hadn't WON, your opponent merely left. so, instead of letting timmy
walk home to watch transformers, you chase him down, tackle him, hold him
down as the other kids laugh at him and 


you are so cool, you are the leader.


and timmy knew, 


he couldn't stop you,

so timmy died inside.

timmy's a sponge, and while you knew it, you never grokked sponge.

so timmy just squeezed what he had inside REAL TIGHT

_no light/no pain_

and poured it into a jar/flask/thundercats thermos, and hid it.

and all this time, you have been trying to find it.

but you have NEVER been able to SEE it.  and this upsets you.  so you prod
and you taunt and you push and you pull and you cuss and you hit.

because you can't sniff this boy's ass.  you know he's not part of the
herd, but you can't

prove it.

so you search and you search,

you can't

all the commotion is jostling the contents, though.

the sleep is unsound.


one day,

you push to hard.



oops, sorry timmy, did we break your glasses?  huh wait they ain't busted,
the what was that noise?


and you STILL can't see it, can you.
no way
no time
no choice


be the ball timmy.  the tao IS the way the way IS the tao. be the ball.


hey guys look timmy's got a kitty.  hehe, where'd you get the kitty timmy?
hey guys, get the tape and the bat.  let's play ball.



even when you tape that kitty up and Babe Ruth it, you will never see.

there wasn't anything in the flask.  there is no flask.  there is no
timmy.  timmy does not exist.  he is a nightmare foreign to your candyland
dreamworld of harry truman normalcy.

sponges soak up what's around them, fanboy, and timmy's got no soul. 
sponges soak up what's around them and you've been around timmy all your

yes, that's right.  doh, you STILL don't get it.


in the form of a cat.

you are an idiot and THEY know you, now.

and you, in your greatness, don't even understand the peril.


for in you effort to be IN the spotlight, you have BECOME the spotlight. 
you are a 400 watt spot light directed within the darkness of awakening.

the tao is the way and the way is the tao.

yet you do it everyday. again and again, like laverne and shirley episodes
on an infinite trek across space and time.

and THEY see you,
and you still can't see it.

but timmy's friends see you.

_yes thank you_
_steak and eggs?_
_hmmm, sounds good_
_yawn, so how do you want your cooked cow today?_

_why, pink in the middle, of course_

um, hey, fan boy.

my sponge is empty.

.AllSpam to be removed
non solum anima sed etiam deo careo. -rkb