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Pseudo Revolution

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Old 10-10-2011, 01:36 AM
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Default Pseudo Revolution


Uhhh bit long... just an excerpt. Feedback welcome, it's not a whole so you may not really gather what's going on. Two friends, amongst others are feeding into the armchair info war bag while "coming down" from a night of festivities.


Cha's Blog:
The armchair war is in full swing my brothers and sisters, the internet warriors are under attack. The wicked man and global Babylon will fall on Judgement Day.
There is no way to truly convey how much I welcome this day. This day will be terrible, filled with blood and screams as the infected beasts rise. This is all scientific and mystic my brothers, it is in the stars so to speak. The four horsemen, the Seven Angels, the wrath of “God” and the raging fire will not be supernatural. These beings are already in effect, the apocalypse and the rising of these beings will be a scientific army uprising... infected and obligated to obey that which is necessary. Babylon shall fall at the hands of this army, the army of the sun. The evil deeds of man, religious man and non-believers alike will be punished through militant apocalyptic will... "Your God's do not exist", they will scream! More natural disasters are on their way, I’m sure most of you know about Katla’s imminent eruption. In the UK the Daily Mail predicts temperatures of -20 degrees this winter (Lord knows those reptiles know what they’re talking about! Drink tea if you want to prevent or suffer from cancer.). The Global financial systems will go into irreversible meltdown. Things look bleak for some and not for others such is the magic of Karma. So what can you do for me, brothers and sisters, comrades, friends the non-compliant… we need cheese, an abundance of cheese and shotguns, cheese will be the currency and shotguns of course to kick some ass. Meditate, mass meditation will go ahead as planned when the new-year dawns and the answers will be revealed.
In times of war, sickness or indifference, confusion, hysteria, one must think, fight and laugh… so do just that think, fight and laugh... and eat cheese, trade with cheese… hell WAGE WAR OVER THE STUFF!
As you all know, I am targeted by the Pentagon, the US military, the Air Force, the FBI and the CIA and numerous other satanic acronyms, political apes and inbred hicks, cock-eyed savages with swelling wallets and monsters in their hearts.
My time is precious beyond my own comprehension, the war is coming and my warriors are gathering. They want me out of the picture at all costs, I am under constant attack! Be aware that counter blog operations are in place to deceive you, they are flooding the internet with false pretences, painting rose tinted pictures of genocide and ugly actions of that nature. Our army, the infected must and will not be influenced by the mind trickery propagated by man... we must win this war of the minds as well as in the physical. Be Strong, for now you are the most evolved beings on the planet.

" A revolutionary must become a cold killing machine motivated by pure hate…..Hatred as an element of struggle; unbending hatred for the enemy, which pushes a human being beyond his natural limitations, making him into an effective, violent, selective, and cold-blooded killing machine--this is what our soldiers must become." Che Guavara

In amongst the war of man, of nations, we will fight for the planet, we are its warriors. God is man's reflection, hell bent on destroying itself and we separate ourselves from all their theology as we march towards glory. The Christian and Muslim terrorists, man and his greed will meet face to face with the cosmos, the earth and the stars; the army of the sun... no more is man to be worshipped.

I have the cure for the ills of the human heart and mind, to be infected is to be part of the revolution of the Sun. We will triumph on Judgement Day.



Chin-Mae Sha - General of the Sun


"What the fuck" The equivocated pseudo revolution, I finished reading this correspondent from Sha and turned to my right to find out fish-eyed girl has gone. I looked around the room, the only person in it is Paul, he was pouring a large black coffee in the kitchen looking surprisingly together considering his state just a minute or so ago.
"Where'd that girl go"?
"What girl"?
"The girl you came in with, with the fish-eyes"?
"You've been doing acid again haven't you? Do you want a coffee"?
"Uhhh yeah, I must be losing my mind... what the fuck just happened"?
"Fuck knows man I can't really remember much of last night, or just now, I woke up on the floor over there... I was going to ask you the same thing to be honest".
"I’ve gotta sort my head out, I'm starting to think Sha is another bull-shit high and mighty cock-face, I don't know why I feed into this shit man, what's wrong with us?"
"I don't know Jonny, it makes for an interesting life remember? That's the main thing, plus you're gonna change your mind again when you hear what I've been up to." Paul handed me a coffee and sat on the chair opposite me.
"Where's Juan and Kim?"
I tried to recall the last twelve hours... "I guess they're in their room man, I haven't seen them this morning. We took some acid and I think Juan turned into a skeleton, oh and Kim got into her S&M stuff again".
"Damn I wish I hadn't missed that, dirty bitch, but check this out... I have infiltrated the infected" Paul smiled in a way that made me assume he's joking.
"Oh right, so when are they gonna bring you into the army of the sun then Paula? Ha... you mug".
"I'm serious man, I was chattin' to this guy on the site and we met up last night at the Queens Head, he's got family on the inside, says there's this big gathering tomorrow night... out in the country, in a farm house around Cheltenham he reckons. He's waiting on a call today and if it's kicking off he says he can get us all in".
I put on my most caustic tone "Wow, fucking hell man I'm so jealous, sounds like you've wasted another evening talking to another delusional internet geek. I mean, it all seems a bit too coincidental don't you think?"
"It's not just there, meetings are taking place globally, all over the UK and Europe and discussions are continuing to bring together the army of the sun all over the place, this is it, the revolution you bang on about so much. You know me mate, I don't really give a fuck, and when you talk to this guy you'll realise how deep it gets. The shit you talk about is nothing, I'm telling you. They're whacked, as mad as a hatter all of them. But I want in, I don't know what they intend to achieve, but it's gotta be better than this, y'know? I want a slice of the action, cheese and shotguns"
“What? Cheese and shotguns? Urgh… I don’t even know what to say, I don’t know who I am anymore, is any of this real?”
I feigned a freak-out, started squawking softly and clawing at the walls.
“It gets better, just listen. Paul sipped his coffee and eyeballed me, taking on a more serious demeanour. “I saw them... this man took me to a basement flat in Easton and they were there. I couldn’t believe it man, we smoked weed and talked about the apocalypse, and the women are insane, they flick out six inch black tongues and stare at you with black eyeballs and the type of lust that is almost indistinguishable from complete rage... I saw them Johnny, they’re coming” Paul was then grinning smugly, but I wasn't convinced.
“Ok, well we’ll see soon I guess” I walked back over to the kitchen for a drink; I needed something strong... cognac and ice. Remy Martin warmed my throat as I walked down the hall towards the front door. There was a bunch of letters as usual, I shuffled through them and picked out the three addressed to me. Two are from my bank, which were instantly chucked in the bin – such is custom and routine for anything I receive from those thieving bastards. The third letter wasn’t like the normal shit that gets shoved through my door. For a start, it’s personal, hand written. I come from a generation that doesn’t really up hold the tradition of hand written letters. I can’t think of a single friend who has ever done so, except maybe birthday cards and even that is rare in my circle. It is Christmas however, so I assume it’s from an Uncle or Aunt or someone. I opened it up, and inside is a message written on a piece of crumpled up note paper. “Dear John, there is much I would like to speak to you about. Please take this as a gift and meet me in the King William at 11am tomorrow morning... Merry Christmas". In the envelope was £500 cash, no return address.
“Oh my fucking days! Someone loves me Paul, praise be to baby Jesus” I bang on Juan and Kim’s door, “Aye you freaks come out here, check this shit out”. Juan opens the door a crack and pokes his head out; he’s wearing a gimp mask dusted with cocaine... for fuck sake. “I’m busy man, tell me later” with that he shuts the door. I look over at Paul who is locked into a discussion with some other geek on Sha’s web-site... I decide it’s time to hit the streets, why the fuck would someone put 500 quid through my door, and no one calls me John? I must be doing something right on this god-forsaken planet... things are looking up.

It was crisp winter morning and the sun was shining. I stretched and yawned on my doorstep, let the sun warm my face and watched my breath rise and disappear, gingerly I crept down the ice covered steps and walked towards the King William. When I reached, the pub is pretty dead, I would’ve though there would be a few more lonely old blokes here really... there was a couple of families eating in the dining area to the left side of the pub just in front of the projector screen (which wasn’t being used). The Bar is in the middle of the floor and there's a games area to the right, equipped with a pool table, a couple of fruit machines, a jukebox and a darts board. I whacked on my usual jukebox selection, Junior Murvin - "Police and Thieves" , got to the bar to order a pint of Guinness. The only other guy there - apart from the two families - was sat in the corner of the games area by the pool table. The best way to describe the man is to say he looked like a half-smoked human cigarette. His hair was combed into a side-parting Hitler would be proud of, and it looked like it had been stained yellow, with cigarette smoke, as did his short sleeved shirt, his eye-balls, lips and his teeth. His skin was pale, sickly grey with a yellow tinge and framing the dark rings around his eyes were a pair of think, translucent, brown-plastic glasses... he could quite easily be an evil fight promoter from the 70's. Or... a paedophile, y'know - if there ever was a look. He was staring at me as if I'm the reason his bodily functions have ceased to work properly. I guess that's our guy... "Merry Christmas my man" I tip my glass in the cigarettes direction in hope of a response. His expression brightens up surprisingly.

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Last edited by JohnConstantine; 10-10-2011 at 05:51 AM..
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  #2  
Old 10-10-2011, 07:05 AM
Hilee Coco's Avatar
Hilee Coco (Offline)
Homer's Odyssey Was Nothing
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Love it. Is there any more of this?

I like how you capture all the insanity and bullshit. Nice conspiracy theory satire. Ever seen Slacker?

I didn't correct the first bit, the long rant, because it's entirely plausible that there would be some errors there.

Originally Posted by JohnConstantine View Post
Uhhh bit long... just an excerpt. Feedback welcome, it's not a whole so you may not really gather what's going on. Two friends, amongst others are feeding into the armchair info war bag while "coming down" from a night of festivities.


Cha's Blog:
The armchair war is in full swing my brothers and sisters, the internet warriors are under attack. The wicked man and global Babylon will fall on Judgement Day.
There is no way to truly convey how much I welcome this day. This day will be terrible, filled with blood and screams as the infected beasts rise. This is all scientific and mystic my brothers, it is in the stars so to speak. The four horsemen, the Seven Angels, the wrath of “God” and the raging fire will not be supernatural. These beings are already in effect, the apocalypse and the rising of these beings will be a scientific army uprising... infected and obligated to obey that which is necessary. Babylon shall fall at the hands of this army, the army of the sun. The evil deeds of man, religious man and non-believers alike will be punished through militant apocalyptic will... "Your God's do not exist", they will scream! More natural disasters are on their way, I’m sure most of you know about Katla’s imminent eruption. In the UK the Daily Mail predicts temperatures of -20 degrees this winter (Lord knows those reptiles know what they’re talking about! Drink tea if you want to prevent or suffer from cancer. funny ). The Global financial systems will go into irreversible meltdown. Things look bleak for some and not for others such is the magic of Karma. So what can you do for me, brothers and sisters, comrades, friends the non-compliant… we need cheese, an abundance of cheese and shotguns, cheese will be the currency and shotguns of course to kick some ass. Meditate, mass meditation will go ahead as planned when the new-year dawns and the answers will be revealed.
In times of war, sickness or indifference, confusion, hysteria, one must think, fight and laugh… so do just that think, fight and laugh... and eat cheese, trade with cheese… hell WAGE WAR OVER THE STUFF!
As you all know, I am targeted by the Pentagon, the US military, the Air Force, the FBI and the CIA and numerous other satanic acronyms, political apes and inbred hicks, cock-eyed savages with swelling wallets and monsters in their hearts.
My time is precious beyond my own comprehension, the war is coming and my warriors are gathering. They want me out of the picture at all costs, I am under constant attack! Be aware that counter blog operations are in place to deceive you, they are flooding the internet with false pretences, painting rose tinted pictures of genocide and ugly actions of that nature. Our army, the infected must and will not be influenced by the mind trickery propagated by man... we must win this war of the minds as well as in the physical. Be Strong, for now you are the most evolved beings on the planet.

" A revolutionary must become a cold killing machine motivated by pure hate…..Hatred as an element of struggle; unbending hatred for the enemy, which pushes a human being beyond his natural limitations, making him into an effective, violent, selective, and cold-blooded killing machine--this is what our soldiers must become." Che Guavara

In amongst the war of man, of nations, we will fight for the planet, we are its warriors. God is man's reflection, hell bent on destroying itself and we separate ourselves from all their theology as we march towards glory. The Christian and Muslim terrorists, man and his greed will meet face to face with the cosmos, the earth and the stars; the army of the sun... no more is man to be worshipped.

I have the cure for the ills of the human heart and mind, to be infected is to be part of the revolution of the Sun. We will triumph on Judgement Day.



Chin-Mae Sha - General of the Sun


"What the fuck?" The equivocated pseudo revolution, I finished reading this correspondent from Sha and turned to my right to find out fish-eyed girl has gone. I looked around the room, the only person in it is Paul, he was pouring a large black coffee in the kitchen looking surprisingly together considering his state just a minute or so ago.
"Where'd that girl go"?
"What girl"?
"The girl you came in with, with the fish-eyes"? question mark goes inside quotation marks
"You've been doing acid again haven't you? Do you want a coffee"? ditto
"Uhhh yeah, I must be losing my mind... what the fuck just happened"? you know what I'm gonna say...
"Fuck knows man I can't really remember much of last night, or just now, I woke up on the floor over there... I was going to ask you the same thing to be honest". same goes for periods
"I’ve gotta sort my head out, I'm starting to think Sha is another bull-shit bullshit high and mighty cock-face, I don't know why I feed into this shit man, what's wrong with us?"
"I don't know Jonny, it makes for an interesting life remember? That's the main thing, plus you're gonna change your mind again when you hear what I've been up to." Paul handed me a coffee and sat on the chair opposite me.
"Where's Juan and Kim?"
I tried to recall the last twelve hours... "I guess they're in their room man, I haven't seen them this morning. We took some acid and I think Juan turned into a skeleton, oh and Kim got into her S&M stuff again". funny but watch that period
"Damn I wish I hadn't missed that, dirty bitch, but check this out... I have infiltrated the infected" Paul smiled in a way that made me assume he's joking.
"Oh right, so when are they gonna bring you into the army of the sun then Paula? Ha... you mug". another escaped period
"I'm serious man, I was chattin' to this guy on the site and we met up last night at the Queens Head, he's got family on the inside, says there's this big gathering tomorrow night... out in the country, in a farm house around Cheltenham he reckons. He's waiting on a call today and if it's kicking off he says he can get us all in".
I put on my most caustic tone "Wow, fucking hell man I'm so jealous, sounds like you've wasted another evening talking to another delusional internet geek. I mean, it all seems a bit too coincidental don't you think?"
"It's not just there, meetings are taking place globally, all over the UK and Europe and discussions are continuing to bring together the army of the sun all over the place, this is it, the revolution you bang on about so much. You know me mate, I don't really give a fuck, and when you talk to this guy you'll realise how deep it gets. The shit you talk about is nothing, I'm telling you. They're whacked, as mad as a hatter all of them. But I want in, I don't know what they intend to achieve, but it's gotta be better than this, y'know? I want a slice of the action, cheese and shotguns"
“What? Cheese and shotguns? Urgh… I don’t even know what to say, I don’t know who I am anymore, is any of this real?”
I feigned a freak-out, started squawking softly and clawing at the walls.
“It gets better, just listen. Paul sipped his coffee and eyeballed me, taking on a more serious demeanour. “I saw them... this man took me to a basement flat in Easton and they were there. I couldn’t believe it man, we smoked weed and talked about the apocalypse, and the women are insane, they flick out six inch black tongues and stare at you with black eyeballs and the type of lust that is almost indistinguishable from complete rage... I saw them Johnny, they’re coming” Paul was then grinning smugly, but I wasn't convinced.
“Ok, well we’ll see soon I guess” I walked back over to the kitchen for a drink; I needed something strong... cognac and ice. Remy Martin warmed my throat as I walked down the hall towards the front door. There was a bunch of letters as usual, I shuffled through them and picked out the three addressed to me. Two are from my bank, which were instantly chucked in the bin – such is custom and routine for anything I receive from those thieving bastards. The third letter wasn’t like the normal shit that gets shoved through my door. For a start, it’s personal, hand written. I come from a generation that doesn’t really uphold the tradition of hand written letters. I can’t think of a single friend who has ever done so, except maybe birthday cards and even that is rare in my circle. It is Christmas however, so I assume it’s from an Uncle or Aunt or someone. I opened it up, and inside is a message written on a piece of crumpled up note paper. “Dear John, there is much I would like to speak to you about. Please take this as a gift and meet me in the King William at 11am tomorrow morning... Merry Christmas". In the envelope was £500 cash, no return address.
“Oh my fucking days! Someone loves me Paul, praise be to baby Jesus” I bang on Juan and Kim’s door, period not comma “Aye you freaks come out here, check this shit out”. escaped period Juan opens the door a crack and pokes his head out; he’s wearing a gimp mask dusted with cocaine... for fuck sake. “I’m busy man, tell me laterWith that he shuts the door. I look over at Paul who is locked into a discussion with some other geek on Sha’s web-site... I decide it’s time to hit the streets, why the fuck would someone put 500 quid through my door, and no one calls me John? I must be doing something right on this god-forsaken godforsaken planet... things are looking up.

It was crisp winter morning and the sun was shining. I stretched and yawned on my doorstep, let the sun warm my face and watched my breath rise and disappear, gingerly I crept down the ice covered steps and walked towards the King William. When I reached it, the pub is was pretty dead, I would’ve though thought there would be a few more lonely old blokes here really... there was a couple of families eating in the dining area to the left side of the pub just in front of the projector screen (which wasn’t being used). The bar is in the middle of the floor and there's a games area to the right, equipped with a pool table, a couple of fruit machines, a jukebox and a darts board. I whacked on my usual jukebox selection, Junior Murvin - "Police and Thieves" , got to the bar to order a pint of Guinness. The only other guy there - apart from the two families - was sat in the corner of the games area by the pool table. The best way to describe the man is to say he looked like a half-smoked human cigarette. His hair was combed into a side-parting Hitler would be proud of, and it looked like it had been stained yellow, with cigarette smoke, as did his short sleeved shirt, his eye-balls eyeballs, lips and his teeth. His skin was pale, sickly grey with a yellow tinge and framing the dark rings around his eyes were a pair of think, translucent, brown-plastic glasses... he could quite easily be an evil fight promoter from the 70's '70s. Or... a paedophile, y'know - if there ever was a look. He was staring at me as if I'm the reason his bodily functions have ceased to work properly. I guess that's our guy... "Merry Christmas my man" I tip my glass in the cigarettes direction in hope of a response. His expression brightens up surprisingly.
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  #3  
Old 10-10-2011, 03:23 PM
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Just watched it this eve Hilee, can't thank you enough haven't felt this way about a film for a long time.
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Old 10-10-2011, 04:46 PM
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Hilee Coco (Offline)
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Glad you liked it.

Interestingly, May 22 is my birthday. Wonder if that means anything...
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Old 10-12-2011, 07:42 PM
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Good shit man, I like the way you captured the drug culture at its finest, presumably from experience- something I can defiantly relate to. There's a great sense of humor in your work that I can see too, and that's sometimes quite a difficult thing for a writer to achieve. Reminds me somewhat of Thompson's acid-fried pieces. All in all brilliant stuff; I'd tell you to work on your grammer and punctuation a bit but I see that was already taken care of, so I leave you with a simple congrats and hope to see more of this around.
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