I suppose one of the hardest things to do is to know that you have a problem, and that said problem is causing issues in life, and to not be able to be do anything about it. To consciously fumble and err is not something one goes through lightly, nor willingly. The fact that nothing can be done to remedy said problem, however, often leads me to wonder if life is in fact inevitable; that is, that we're placed on a path much like that of slot cars. We determine nothing of our path nor progress, it's all predetermined and in the hands of some higher up with a controller in his hand.

To say such is both comforting and disquieting; if life is not in our hands technically it is impossible for us to leave the path determined for us. However, such paths are seldom the straight and narrow; what if our set path were one of suffering and failure, and that nothing we could ever do could remedy it in any way. Of course, we'll struggle, which will make the bonds even more obvious and increase our sense of helplessness and inevitability sevenfold.

Of course the opposite is equally uncomfortable; that we are in fact at the helm of something far larger than ourselves and the only way to learn how to navigate it is through a series of trials which could quite possibly be fatal. Life is in fact a game of Russian roulette, you push the red button and you may receive wisdom and rewards, you may however receive death, or worse? You may repeat this process as many times as you like, in fact you're required to. Eventually you will receive the bullet however. Thank you for playing!

Pity the newborn?

For the sake of argument, lets say that your child has done something wrong which would warrant punishment, the intent of said physical punishment would be to teach a lesson. Anything beyond that is cruel.

To the father with the belt the intention is to teach his son that swearing in front of his mother isn't a good thing, although his methods are questionable, the intent is honest enough, at least arguably so.

The headmaster with the cane, who deals out undue amounts of punishment on his student is either being cruel or is on camera. These are things we accept as a society today.

Yet, even so, our "loving father" god is said to want to punish us eternally with fire for crimes which are seemingly grievous enough to him to cause him to want to do so.

So, now we're talking locking us all (his "children") in heavens basement where we will be tormented by fire until judgment day, in which case he'll hold a trial and decide if we, individually, are worthy of release from torment. Then we are either cast out to beg a living around a giant pyramid or sent right back into hell (i'm not stoned these are actual bible references).

This being said, God is Josef Fritzl.

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD

Once upon a time back in Fairy Tale Land, there was a girl. However, not just an ordinary girl. An ordinary girl with a red hood. Since people in Fairy Tale Land have no imagination when it comes to names and wind up calling their children things like "King, The" "Beauty, Sleeping" "Ella, Cinder" "White, Snow", etc, this girl was named "Hood, Little Red Riding".

How Little Red Riding Hood's parents knew she would wear a red riding hood and be little upon naming her is somewhat unknown.

Anyway, one day Little Red Riding Hood decided to take food to her sick grandmother who for some reason lived in the middle of a dark, Sentient-Wolf infested forest. I suppose it was the nicer alternative to a home.

Upon entering said forest, who should she meet but the Big Bad Wolf. Once again Mr. and Mrs. Wolf took the liberty of scrying into the future to discover that their son would have a habit of eating little pigs and little red riding hoods and thus named him "Wolf, The Big Bad". His siblings, "Wolf, Winds Up In a Zoo", "Wolf, Gets Shot While Eating Sheep" and "Wolf, Enjoys Licking Himself A Little Too Much" were named similarly.

Said Big Bad Wolf discovers that Little Red Riding Hood is carrying food and wants to eat it. Rather than devour her whole in the Dark Dark Forest, he decides to be craftier, and to attempt to impersonate her Grandmother.

Little Red Riding Hood, after kindly offering directions to her Grandmothers house, since there is no other way the Big Bad Wolf could have known how to get there, proceeds to head there herself.

In the meantime, Big Bad Wolf enters the grandmothers cottage and devours her whole, only to dress in clothes of the opposite sex in an attempt to fool Little Red Riding Hood into being eaten. Once again, despite having all the predatory tools of wolfkind at his dispersal, the Big Bad Wolf opts to dress up as a granny in an attempt to fool Little Red Riding Hood into coming to the bedside and being devoured.

Its dastardly.

So, in prances Little Red Riding Hood to discover that her Grandmother is in fact not human but rather a Canis Lupus.

She does not notice.

In fact, what she does notice is more interesting still.

"Grandmother, what big eyes you have!"

This is interesting, as wolves have in fact smaller eyes than Humans.

"All the better to see you with my dear!" The wolf replies, denoting that somehow grandmother has undergone genetic enhancements to better appreciate the experience of meeting with her granddaughter.

"Grandmother, what big arms you have!"

Once again, wolves have smaller limbs than humans do.

"All the better to hug you with my dear!" At this stage the wolf becomes the first grandmother to ever undergo genetic enhancement for the purpose of better hugging.

"Grandmother, what big legs you have!" This is right out of the question. By this point we can more or less estimate the grandmother to have been a kind of backwards-knee'd tiny-eye'd, tiny-arm-hugging freak show.

"All the better to run with my dear!" Nobody seems to notice that the grandmother is in fact bedridden and won't be running anywhere.

"Grandmother, what big teeth you have!"

This is the final observation of Little Red Riding Hood before she is devoured and despite all this, she did not in fact notice that her grandmother was in fact a dog. This says rather bad things about the overall appearance of her Grandmother.

So within ear shot for some reason is a woodsman, who overhears little red riding hood being eaten. He grabs his axe, and proceeds to cut the wolf open, and pull out a relatively intact grandmother and little red riding hood.

In the case of the grandmother she was already weird enough so being chewed and digested probably wouldn't have made a noticeable impact on her appearance but funnily enough, despite being dragged through incisor-like teeth down a tiny throat into a stomach filled with acid and a weird old lady, Little Red Riding Hood is intact.

So they all laugh over a pint of root bear and tell tales over the rotting corpse of the Big Bad Wolf, and live happily ever after.

...for about five minutes, since Greenpeace had been watching the whole thing and proceed to arrest and execute all three because the wolf is an endangered species.

THE END!

SLEEPING BEAUTY

Once Upon a Time a long long long long time ago there was a king of some country to this date unnamed by academic scholars and historians. Probably Amerengland.

In this generic far-far-away place this King lived in a Castle on some kind of mountain. One day his daughter was born, totally not out of the ordinary, and three fairy godmothers and dark evil sorceress whom the king had for some reason failed to vanquish as of yet came to visit. Totally out of the ordinary.

Nobody thought it was odd though.

As each of them passed by the cradle, each of the fairy godmothers gave a blessing. And the sorceress uttered a curse that when she was sixteen she would prick her finger and die.

When questioned on the subject the King replied "I totally had no idea that the Dark and Evil Sorceress would do something Dark and Evil to the baby! Totally surprised me! If I'd known I wouldn't have let her near the baby!"

Anywho,

One of the other fairy godmothers uttered a blessing which changed the curse from dying into sleeping for a long long time. Everyone all of a sudden relaxed for some reason and thought that probably she'd just have a hard day and sleep it off for a week or so.

Also the King banned spindles, under pain of death. I suppose they started wearing silk.

Or maybe linen.

Anyway, years passed and the baby turned into a woman. Well not at once but gradually. When she was sixteen she entered a servants room and found her spinning wool.

"I can has a go?" Sleeping beauty asks. We don't know why at this point of the story her name was Sleeping Beauty. I suppose if her father had named her something different the story might have been different.

"K" replies the servant.

And OMG she pricks her finger on the spindle. Seriously, what an odd point in time! Princesses just go wandering around into servants quarters. I mean, you have no idea what illegal stuff they could have in there! Drugs, cigarettes, alcohol, spindles!

So she goes to sleep. And for some reason everyone else does to. Nobody explains this. I suppose life just wasn't interesting without Sleeping Beauty who was now in fact sleeping. I mean, you're stuck in fairy tale land without anything to do except watch some empty-headed blonde walk into random peoples rooms. OH THE SITUATIONS SHE WOULD ENCOUNTER!

Anywho,

As she slept a wall of dense thorny bushes sprouted up around the castle, keeping everyone in and out depending on what side of the wall of thorns you were on. If your frisbee went over that thing you could pretty much kiss it goodbye.

And I mean despite being a medieval kingdom with soldiers with swords and armour and stuff nobody could cut it down, set fire to it, poison it, etc. We historians assume that the wall of trees was in fact a wall of MUTANT THORN TREES THAT ATTACKED BACK AT YOU.

There is no evidence to support this.

She slept for 100 years, and awoke to find a world which despite the time passed is still in medieval times. Well I mean, it wouldn't be interesting if rather than a Prince you had to have a Prime Minister kiss you.

Finally, completely lacking any sense of punctuality or linear story telling, a Prince, yes just one man, named Prince Charming, got over the wall of trees. We don't know how. We assume he had some kind of rocket skates or a portal.

It is probably interesting to note that despite the fact that the land lost their king and royal family there is no mention of a coup d'etat, seizure of power, civil war, etc. Everyone just forgot about him. Because of this it is believed that he was only pretending to be a king.

Anywho, he enters the castle and climbs all the way to the top, or we assume the princess was at the top because thats where princesses sleep, and kisses Sleeping Beauty awake.

And they live happily every after.

Or something.

We now have evidence to support that said Prince Charming was not as romantic as people think he is. We have evidence to support our theory that he traversed Fairy Tale Land looking for sleeping, presumably dead and dwarf-surrounded, or otherwise midnight-restricted princesses to kiss and probably molest in some way.

This week on TO CATCH A PREDATOR Princess_123 sucks PrinceCharming into coming to her house in Fairy Tale Land!

I used to get told off in primary school for having my head in the clouds. As you can tell from my artistic leanings, my head never really came down. I'd sit in class and draw UFO's and aliens and far off planets and space ships and all manner of wonderfully imaginitive and preposterous objects. While the rest of the class were learning the "important" things like long division and science, I was busy wondering about the bigger picture.

The much bigger picture.

I found it odd that people could walk around worrying about the usual day to day necessities when the happenings above us were infinitely greater and infinitely more powerful than anything on earth. Order on earth was chaos in the heavens and chaos on earth was order in the heavens.

In the world above us, true order means that things move unceasingly. With no force to stop Jupiters patrol, he simply keeps moving. On earth, order eventually turns to chaos.

Yet what we consider chaos is but short lived and miniscular compared to the real chaos of space. The sun, while being our greatest need in life, greater than food or water or sleep, is also possibly the most destructive force we have had the honor of witnessing. The sun is the closest thing to the traditional explanation of Hell that we know of, fire that burns unceasingly.

So on I went, blowing through my studies rather carelessly and sinking my head unceasingly into art books, science fiction and fantasy sagas and intense video games. All the while I had about a dozen voices in my ears telling me why I had to grow up and why I had to start living in the real world and being responsible.

So just after the end of year ten I took an adventure out of my galactic empire and into this rumoured world of "Real Life". Within a couple of years I'd seen more of it than I liked. In the real world people were grossly overworked, grossly underpaid, unhappy, lovelorn, and problem ridden. In my imaginary science fiction universe I could float in a bubble around a planets rings or watch a purple moon rise above a crystalline sea. If anything became too intense or uncomfortable, no problem! I'd just think of something else!

So, having seen what the "Real World" had to offer, I consequentially decided that 99% of humans were utter fruit loops and jumped back into my egg shaped space pod and flew back to my purple planet.

And I haven't left there since.

After reading this you probably think I'm bonkers. Well I guess in a way I am, and I wouldn't change that for the world. Pun intended.

The world is relatively unchanging. Two million years ago the green thing with the brown body and the red things growing from it was still around, and the red things were still incredibly tasty to eat. Yet two million years later the exact same object is no longer a "thing with red things", but an apple tree. What has happened? Absolutely nothing. Except the fact that our perception of such a thing changed.

There are two ways of looking at the world. In linear sense and abstract sense. In a linear way of thinking 2+2 always equals 4. But in an abstract sense, 2+2 could equal A or B, or maybe something stranger. If i take a piece of clay and shaped it into something able to hold water, my abstract thinking now tells me that this thing is a cup. But in a linear and logical sense, what makes this thing a cup could also make this thing a bowl. In a truly linear sense, when I look at this thing I do not see a cup, but rather clay crafted to hold water.

Neither way of thinking is wrong. There are pro's and cons to both, and perhaps the best method is to remain middle of the road. If I think in an entirely linear sense, I see things mentally as I see them physically. A river is a moving body of water that comes from a spring or a drainage point, and leads out to see. Nothing mystical about that.

Yet if i look in an abstract sense, I see an intense metaphor. The water becomes the world around me, and the salmon swimming upstream is really me trying to break free from the bonds of my life.

But if I look in a completely abstract sense I overcomplicate the picture, suddenly i'm not looking at a river with a metaphoric meaning. The river now doesn't exist, or i can walk over it because I am god, or something else over the top. But if I look at it in a completely linear sense, I miss the lessons I can learn about myself by allowing myself to think outside the box of what i can see feel and touch.

Unfortunately as much as history repeats itself mankind for some reason finds it acceptable to ignore the obvious, and so we'll just get scolded every time we forget.

The lesson of course is that men are not gods.

For as long as humans can remember, we have immortalized the mortal. Pharaohs, Roman Emperors, Greek Heros, Tyrants, Warlords and even philosophers and prophets. And one day after we've rampaged around our world seeking out those who would disobey such a godhead, the pendulum swings, the next messiah is born and all of a sudden you're the one being hunted. It's a vicious cycle.

Or rather, your Messiah, being defined in a completely different sense by some faction of followers, rises up to destroy you and what you lived for swallows you whole. Unfortunately Messiah's aren't like men. They don't have guilt or compassion or pity or remorse. Their Qizarates murder until either there's no one left to murder or they become the targets.

Its unfortunate for the Messiah factor, largely made popular Judeo-Christian religions. They've managed to set mankind back socially by a few thousand years. We talk about how advanced we are compared to civilizations of past days but on friday nights we still gather round the TV to watch the fight and we still bow down to statues. The only difference is our fighters die less often than the gladiators of the Colisseum and our statues now depict holy saints and deities rather than animalistic pagan totems.

But thanks to the ever present rulings of an invisible deity mankind has a very clear and bloated image of right and wrong that stretches from the practical applications of causing intentional hurt to other human beings out into that which is definable as wrong only through some obscure writing of a man no one knew much about, but anyone will listen to because he says the magic G word. Now rather than right and wrong being reserved solely for those actions which cause harm to our fellows, we now use the term to define anything which we find disturbing or unsavory in nature. Actions which harm no one are now punishable by, in some countries, as much as death.

And tell me how that makes us more advanced than say 16th century England? To be hung for being a witch is no different than being executed for being a christian, and both are equal to extreme punishment for possession of something found in nature.

And that brings me to yet another reason to reject the Messiah factor. Because of rulings of organized religion man is no longer a part of the world yet the lord of it. In days almost forgotten mankind was not the world's "landlord" but a fellow tenant. We coexisted with the world around us. Because we are now more than animal, making us divine to some degree, we can do with our world as we please. And we can make rules which being a part of nature would forbid us from doing. We can persecute a plant or a fungus or even an animal to the extent of the attempted removal of such a species.

If our world leaders had the ability they would wipe Marijuana from existance. Yet, in spite of all our talk of saving the world we still insist that certain substances found in nature are evil or unclean in nature. Doesn't saying its important to look after nature unless its one of these plants etc. make us hypocritical?

These figures of history who caught our imaginations and inspired us to follow were merely men, and being men they accomplished nothing more than a man could achieve. Yet, when we unite behind these figures we create a fraction of the productivity of mankind to say, 6/6,000,000,000. If we were to take that charge for ourselves and be our own Messiahs, imagine where we could take our world?

The barrel of his copper revolver was pointed upwards at my chin, the cold metal stung my skin slightly and I could smell the residue of the last shot it made. His eyes showed nothing but madness. Not madness like my own, I was a man who had seen the corner, who had felt his back against the wall. This man had the eyes of a hyena. He would have foamed at the mouth if he was physically able.

His bushy red beard looked like it hadn't felt the touch of scissors in months and his hair was just as messy. His teeth were a dark green, almost a black, and his smile was sickening.

I guessed he couldn't see my eyes for the shadow my leather cowboy hat cast over my face. Not many men could look at me like that and not flinch. The ladies said my gaze pierced stone and metal, the men said I was as comforting to look on as a public execution. I wasn't ugly, but I wasn't normal either. I guess it was that gaze that had brought me here in the first place. My hair was long back then, I hadn't cut it in a few years and it hung around my shoulders. I brushed it though, so it was neat I guess.

My chin hadn't felt a razor in a few days, out in these wastelands razors were hard to come by, so I had more than a bit of growth. I was nothing compared to this creep though.

"You really gonna shoot me?" I asked. I didn't doubt that he wanted to, those eyes had no sanity in them for me. "Republic's collapsed, the Homo Supremi want to eradicate the Homo Sapien bloodlines and you're going to put a bullet in my brain?"

"Shut up!" He said. His voice trembled like he was high. He probably was, I thought to myself, the narcotics trade was huge here. He was probably pumped full of Rosthenol or some other bullshit. "Clark wants your ass. Dead or alive!"

Now it makes sense, I thought. This dipshit wasn't smart enough to track down Kyle the Eye on his own steam, made sense that someone would be giving him the orders. Clark must have been pretty desperate to send a maniac like this douche bag to do his dirty work. Or maybe it was because he couldn't afford to loose any more quality cronies. I'd wasted my fair share of them lately.

The maniac let his eyes stray towards the abandoned building behind them for a moment. It was long enough for me to be able to take that motherfuckers spine and remove it through his ass but I didn't move, I was interested to see where this was going. Maybe it was because I wanted to come close to death again too. I dunno, at that point of my life killing was just too damned easy. They showed their butt ugly faces and I took the liberty of sending them to the Krist. It was pretty straightforward, more so than killing should ever be.

"Get in there!" He said. I was happy to oblige, for my own reasons not his. I couldn't care less if he shot me. Death couldn't be any worse than my life had become anyway. Because of what I am. I shuffled quietly around the corner into the building. My leather boots made familiar scraping noises on the rocky terrain that was Nerys. I wasn't surprised at what I saw when I got in there.

In a couple of moments my gun was taken from me and the maniac wrestled me to the ground. Or rather, he jumped on me like a horny dog and I let my knees buckle under his weight. He made two fatal errors. One of which I would take advantage of, the other I chose to let slide. He was as balanced as a tranquilized Black Deer. He threw my hat off and grabbed me by the hair. In the centre of the room was a bath tub filled with water and I quickly found my face in the middle of it.

Lord knew I could hold my breath for the best part of five minutes. The monks taught me that. But I decided to give the retard a show and make like I was suffocating. He quickly pulled my head up and I indulged in a large breath.

"Why does Clark want you?" He said. His grasp of Regular was appalling and it took me a minute to sift through his dumbass Redneck accent to get to the real meaning of the words.

"I owe him money." I said. He plunged my head into the bath tub again momentarily.

"Bullshit!" He screamed. "Clark don't send no one out here for money! This is a real suicide deal he gimme now. Out here is smart man territory (I gathered by smart man he meant the Homo Supremi and he was right), no one comes lookin' for cash here. What he want you for stranger?"

"I fucked his sister."

My head was in the bath tub again, this time for a bit longer. "He don't care 'bout his sister, hell everyone gets to fuck that bitch. The way he tell it he want somethin' from you."

"What makes you say that?"

"He want you brought back alive. But he say I can kill you if I need to. Why don't he want no one gettin' their paws on you stranger?"

"Haven't a clue."

Again with the bath tub.

"Alright maybe I do."

"Spill it!"

"Clark hired me to steal something for him, I stole it then ran for it."

"I don't believe you. If 'n' you be telling the truth then what'd you steal 'n' why he want it so bad?"

"I don't think your boss would like you to be asking questions like that."

"Fuck him! He ain't here and if you don' answer me you won't be there!"

"Alright how about I make a deal with you. You ask the questions, I answer yes or no. Less trouble for you that way."

There was a moment of silence and I could feel the fucker trembling. He obviously wasn't used to making his own decisions. "You gotcher self a deal mister."

"Go ahead then."

"One, you steal some kinda weapon?"

"No."

"Information?"

"Yes."

"Got anythin' to do with them military folks."

"Which ones?"

"Fuck you 'n' answer the question!"

"I can't answer it if you don't answer mine."

"...I heard Clark say somthin' 'bout the Kampala military wantin' to come into this Zone. I reckon' its got somethin' to do with whatever you stole from that Queechee stronghold! Got anythin' to do with that!"

"Yes."

"And I reckon its got somethin' to do with that guy in the weird clothes that come to see Clark one day, what he say his name was...Phi?"

I perked up at that name.

"Yes." I was lying blatantly now.

"I thought so! You...You got some kinda information on how to fight those Homo Supremi don' you?!"

The sound was less of a bang as it was a poof as five hundred years of ballistics research offloaded itself into the maniac and the second fatal error I had been waiting to hold against him reared its head and bit him on the ass. "Rule one of the Wastelands," I said. "Never carry one gun. Rule two, never carry the second one anywhere you'd expect to find it."

The barrel of my Python was between my legs and poking through the fold of my leather trench coat. The fucker took the bullet to the groin, without even turning around I knew he had a few seconds of life left.

I spun around and looked him in the eyes. Even this close to death, he went pale and his pupils dilated to cloud out the ugly green irises that were his eyes. He hadn't bothered to examine my face before and I guessed he damn well wished he didn't have to now. Staring down at him were two completely black, featureless, shiny eyes, the kind you'd expect from a villain in a comic book.

"Thanks for the info." I said. I lodged a second bullet in his brain before I grabbed my gun and was on my way again, another mark against my name in heaven.

I'd like to point something out.

<Faustus> adding EvE online banners
<Faustus> (sigh) I miss EvE online
<Orchid`> i play for free
<Faustus> how?
<Orchid`> cracks
<Orchid`> and a free 14 day trial
<Faustus> dude...you can't crack an MMO
<Faustus> you mean you play on the testing server?
<Faustus> which is free?
<Orchid`> no
<Orchid`> dude
<Orchid`> Wow
<Orchid`> its got cracks
<Orchid`> i use the cracks to pla for free.
<Faustus> lol whatever
<Faustus> theres a difference between cracking a client and a server
<Faustus> you need an account and pass to log into the server
<Faustus> thats like saying you have a crack for hotmail
<Orchid`> Faustus:  im sure there is man
<Faustus> lol, you're talking about two different things. A crack is for a single player game contained completely on your own computer. To crack WoW not only do you need to crack the client (the game that runs on your machine) but also have an illegitimate name and password for the server. In which case, you're looking at 5-10 for fraud
<Faustus> plus whatever they fuck you up with for hacking these days
<Orchid`> not really man
<Orchid`> they allow yo to make a username-password on the website
<Orchid`> you use that for the crack
<Orchid`> it logs you in shabam
<Orchid`> :P
<Orchid`> freee
<Faustus> no, they let you create a trial username and password on the site
<Faustus> those are deactivated serverside once the trial is over
<Orchid`> not for me
<Orchid`> im saying
<Orchid`> i use the same username and apssword i creatd in september
<Orchid`> and currently have a lvl 45 undead mage
<Orchid`> xD
<Faustus> okay there is a warcraft crack, but not what you're talking about. The only WoW crack in existance is a nocd crack, which means you can run it without using the cd. dude, there is no way to crack WoW
<Faustus> why don't you just say you have a crack for my fucking bank account?
<Faustus> or you hacked nasa?
<Faustus> or a dragon landed on your house?
<Faustus> those are all more probable than you having a crack for WoW and EvE online

</n00b>

There is NO SUCH THING AS A WORLD OF WARCRAFT OR EVE ONLINE CRACK! A crack is a file used to change the memory of a local program. World of Warcraft runs on a server on another computer owned by a billion dollar company who can afford better security than some 12yo gamerfag could ever dream of.

Its one thing to crack a file on your pc. Theres no reliable method for corporations to track down people who have individually pirated copies of a game, save of course raiding every house in existence, which not even Microsoft has the resources for. Now, what you n00bs are telling me is that you can install a crack, which then allows you to log into the server using a name and password which you did not buy.

Either a) you're using someone elses account, in which case you're in dire straits when they find out you are/who you are, b) you've hacked the server and have a forged password and account, in which case, as I said, you're up for five to ten years plus whatever they give you for hacking (and not to mention now in the sights of Blizzard), and plus I tip my hat to you and believe you're worthy of placing next to Captain Crunch, or c) you're lying/misinformed. The latter probably means you have a mega bill coming in the mail soon.

Since I see no way anyone could be b, and since having a crack on a local computer which affects files on a remote server (thats preposterous, its like saying "whatever you do on earth shall be done also in heaven"...wait), I'm going to assume you're all crazy. END OF RANT.

SCRIPT KIDDIES!!!11

I was watching Amazing Grace the other day (Great movie!) when I realized just how old democracy actually is. Perhaps not in the form of the public casting a vote for a leader, but at least in the sense of a body of people casting a vote to determine the fate of a nation in the form of its laws. And the thing that struck me is that the way that they ruled in barbaric 1700's England was scarcely different from the way in which we rule our countries today, though perhaps the scale is a little larger.

And there is one remaining factor that has remained unchanged throughout the centuries: the total and unwaivering power of one single individual. Back then it was the King, nowadays it might be a president, or a prime minister, or a governor general, or perhaps still a King or Queen.

I don't believe, that on the level on which governments rule nowadays, and with the decisions which those governments are required to make, that one person should be able to have any level of rule. I ask myself if the days of one man ruling an empire are dead and gone. I've had this running idea for a while now of not one man ruling, but several. So, instead of having one Prime Minister or President, have seven. That way it becomes impossible for the one man to rule in favor of his own ulterior motives, for example, Bush invading Iraq for Oil or John Howard introducing Work Choices for the betterment of the upper class.

One thing I'd like to see come into play is the ability to cast a legal vote on subjects via the internet, effectively creating a real democracy. Of course, nobody would HAVE to vote, that'd be absurd, you'd have to vote five times a day. But for the issues that mattered to you, you could do more than give your opinon. You could actually make an effort to change things to your point of view.

But no, that'd give the people too much power. It wouldn't work for the people who wanted it to work. And anyway, the internet is too complicated to make websites on. BARGH!

And, especially here in Australia, everything is so outdated in the Government. Procedures and Rules that were effective twenty, or even fifty, years ago are still in effect and forced, and have lost almost all their effectiveness. With the advent of the Internet, private businesses and organizations were quick to see the advantages of transferring many of their services and functions over to the internet, creating an easier way of operating for themselves.

But unfortunately, a Politician is an old man's trade, and anyone with a good deal of sway over at least Australia's parliament is upwards of fourty, perhaps too old and too far removed to have any real idea about the uses of Technology. Perhaps its heartless, but its true. Its common opinion that anyone under at least 35 doesn't have the life experience to make those decisions.

But I know a large list of people who changed the world before they even hit thirty! Not least among them William Wilberforce, who abolished the slave trade in the British Empire before he even reached 30, and Alexander the Great, who conquered the known world before he reached 30!

Anywho, I need to sleep and if I rant like this, I won't do that. I'll pick this thought up again tomorrow.

Short one here.

Yeah so I had heaps of these freaky dreams last night.

I was trying to escape these greys with little success. They kept turning up in saucers and while impersonating humans. At one point I was in a mansion with this fat woman (lol) when her husband, who was really a grey, spat acid on her and tried to kidnap me. Then i was meant to meet these government officials who were going to try to protect me when the greys got there first and attacked them.

I have dreams like this a lot, most every nightmare i have is along these lines, only its either grays or ET, anyone have any ideas on what the meaning behind it might be/how might i stop it from constantly recurring? it's been like this for as long as I can remember.

I think one of the more interesting (albeit, grossly wrong) concepts of Christianity is this concept of man as the creation of the divine, above the animals and other inhabitants of earth and therefore worthy of more of a reward. Yet on the flip side of the coin mankind is required to "behave himself" more than an animal would. Mankind is not allowed to mate as the animals would, mankind is not allowed to pursue his (or her) wants as the animals would and mankind is certainly not allowed to live without worry as the animals do.

And I find myself asking why mankind really needs to believe in himself as something greater than an animal. The colloquial word "Animal", in human society, is used to denote someone who is either excessively violent, excessively sexual, excessively slothful, or excessively gluttonous (among other things). Yet, as for the first, second and third, animals are none of these. And for the second, yes animals do exhibit a more liberated sex drive than humans do and for good reason. Limit the amount of offspring a species can produce, and that species will eventually cease to exist. Whether human, animal, or divine, nature doesn't discriminate with that rule.

Yet, to the contrary of the term "You're an animal", it is humans who write atrocities, humans who murder more of our own kind than any other species on the planet, humans who refuse to move our asses to ensure the survival of our own species and it is humans who take from our world and give little in return. Furthermore, I don't see any animals deluded by the promise of riches to the point of selling out their own kin. So next time you decide to call someone an animal, maybe you should rethink your insult and call them a human instead?

I used to think that I bought some form of emotional liberation or transcendence from believing i was above the animals, but as with anyone in positions of high profit, the responsibilities and the restrictions are just as huge. As someone above the animals, you are not only responsible for caring for the earth but you are responsible for every little thing that goes wrong on it. Plus, you cannot act irresponsibly, ie; do anything an animal might do. All I did was give myself over to the belief that I was somehow accountable for acting according to my nature.

And nobody doesn't act according to their nature, it's impossible. It's easy to say "Sometimes you've gotta do things you don't want to" but the truth of the matter is, if there is NOTHING about the action or task you are performing which you want, or which is gratifying in some way to you, you simply won't do it. Yeah, you might not want to mow the lawn, but you want the grass to be short. If you didn't, you wouldn't mow the lawn. You might not want to go to work, but you want the paycheck at the end of the week. If you didn't, you wouldn't go.

But although some might condemn this in humans, its nothing but proof of our true status in the planet. We're just another species of animal. We're not the begotten sons of god or the guardians of gaia, we're just another one among the herd. And accepting this allows us to give ourselves a break for acting according to our own wishes. Because that's what animals do, whatever they want. We're not the chosen people of god here to oversee the survival of his kingdom, we're not the begotten people of some vague god who has a task in mind for us. We're just another kind of animal, and the only reason we're here is to ensure the survival of our species. Whatever else we do is up to us. It's your life, so enjoy it!

Lately I was the subject of some interesting questions from people. With my realizations in the area of my own sexuality now pointing me in the direction that I am perhaps completely gay rather than just bi as I had thought, I appear to have become something of a role model for my friends around me in similar circumstances.

One such question came from a friend who I have always thought to be heterosexual but nonetheless, he asked me the question "How does one become gay?"

My reply was that there's not really a way to become gay, but if you honesty wanted to become gay, and it wasn't a want brought forth out of the desire to escape problems with women, then chances were you already were and you just had to find it in yourself. I'll be interested to find out how his search for himself comes about.

On the flip side of the coin, I've come across a lot of guys who not only thought but actively worried that they might be gay. Nine times out of ten the fear is, truthfully, not of being gay, but of looking inside oneself and the fear of what you will find when you do so. One of my favorite scenes from a movie is in the Neverending story, where Engywook says to Falkor: "The next test is the gate of the magic mirror,whre men will look in and see only their true selves staring back at them. The kind find that they are cruel, the brave find that they are cowards. Most men find themselves running and screaming!"

It's not necessarily the case, but its a good way to describe our fear. We're afraid that if we look into ourselves we won't find ourselves to be of liking...to ourselves...(counts 'Ourselves'). And there's nothing worse than living with a person you dislike!

But more often than not, we'll find that we like ourselves. It's not a matter of being the person we like, its a matter of liking the person we are. It's so much easier to make peace with ourselves than it is to try to change ourselves. When I discovered I was bi, possibly gay, I had already overcome that gate. I had worked up the courage to discover who i really was and that was the hardest part. Living with the person I was wasn't nearly as hard as discovering that person. It was just the irrational fear that drove me to try to hide myself from myself.

Once that was out of the way, I found I indeed liked myself, as i have no doubt you will like yourself. I could handle being gay, i could handle not being the person i had crafted for myself anymore. In fact, i was tired of lying to myself. I was ready to accept myself for myself!

Most people seem to base what is right and wrong on some philosophy or religious idea. In other words, what is right and wrong is was causes people to think either favourably or angrily on you. In many cases though, it's what causes God to think favourably or angrily on you. God has his set of rules and looks down on us disfavourably whenever we break one.

Unfortunately, just what rules God has set is disputed from person to person. And, also unfortunately, many of those said persons have some kind of weapon and are willing to use it to prove that their image of God is the right one. Technically you can't disagree with them if you're dead. In that sense, God, someone who claims to be both merciful and loving (in fact he says he IS love) has killed more people than anyone ever to walk the planet. You may as well worship Ed Gein, John Wayne Gacy or Charlie Manson.

But it's not all theistic belief that tends to cause this violent reaction among its followers. Very few Polytheistic religions have been the source of killing in the names of their gods. So I find myself asking why the loving God of Abraham has murdered more than even the warlike gods of the Norse did?

While it's true, many Pagans in the dark ages were Barbarians given to clan wars, the wars were at least over something material like land or cattle. And, since the land and cattle could only satisfy a limited amount of people, only a limited amount of people partook in those wars. Introduce someone who claimed to have power over death, such as Xerxes, and all of a sudden clan and tribal disputes turn into holy wars and jihads.

With God, and the risk of Damnation, the Christians and Jews and Muslims created a fear far worse than that of starvation. They tapped into man's ultimate fear of death and what was beyond it, or rather the fear of Oblivion; of no longer existing in any way shape or form. But forget your eternal rest in the form of non-existence, if you didn't do what they said it was hellfire for you!

And through doing that a select group of people, the "higher-ups" in those religions, gained vast amounts of worker ants who were willing to pay with their lives to preserve their invitation only club. Thus a new piece was added to the chess board. Mankind was no longer limited to those who directed (the kings, queens, knights and rooks) and those who made it happen (the pawns). Now we had an utterly useless, yet highly paid piece to consider. The Bishop, soothsayer, sin-forgiver, etc. etc. etc. In short, someone who could tell us what we wanted to hear: that we were going to have some form of heavenly reward. But they just loved to use this word "if".

And because of the popularity of these people, people who commanded more fear than any army could, empires rose and fell at their hands.

Thankfully now, however, people are starting to wake up and smell the coffee. Only a few people believe in a monotheistic religion so harshly that they're willing to hurt others for the sake of their beliefs, and they're not nearly as powerful as they used to be.

One of the things that gets me most is when people choose to be offended by something, yet still decide to blame their offense on someone else. For example, I recently came out of the closet about my bisexuality with my mother. 99% of the people I told about this were fine with it, to their own credit. My mother, however, chose to be offended and chose to create tenseness in the situation. For a while I was angry, and I am still angry at her (perhaps unforgivably so) but I hold no guilt at all.

How hard could it have possibly been to accept this factor and move on with life? Not nearly as hard as she had made it for herself and thus I washed my hands of the entire thing. I had come to the conclusion that if people choose to put themselves through hardship then this is their own stupidity in action and I hold no hard feelings against myself for this.

Getting deeper into this subject, this all came about when I moved back in with my family three days ago. They have quarrels against me from years back, suffice to say I wasn't the son they wanted me to be. My father wanted a hard working tradesman, the kind of son my little brother turned out to be. Instead he got a physically unsound bisexual, and no matter how much of a mental giant I proved to be I didn't sing the song to his key so therefore I was a disappointment. He still doesn't know about the revelations I've had within myself in the last two months or so and, frankly, it doesn't bother me if he does find out. If he decides to create trouble from it it's his affair.

People, I'm giving this advice to guys and gals in my position: the world doesn't want you for who you are yet you can't seem to change. For years I tried to be the man the world wanted me to be. All that got brought about by it was a lingering hatred of myself for who I was and a refusal to accept what others wouldn't.

I moved to Rockhampton in the beginning of 2007 and I met Clarissa* (she'll be famous one day). I learned a lot from her, particularly that not everyone is going to appreciate you for who you are, but that through being yourself the people who do appreciate you are the ones to gravitate towards you, and suddenly you find yourself surrounded by good friends; people who deserve your company.

Treat yourselves like gods, you're the only person in your life who has made it this far, and you didn't get this far by paying attention to the crap your critics threw at you. As long as you're not intentionally hurting anyone, do what you want. And if they choose to be hurt by what you do, then it's their problem so wash your hands of it.

I suppose one of the biggest philosphical debates I've ever had was with a friend of mine from High School. At that period I was an extremely devout Christian (albeit, one labelled as a "Catholic") and I was of the opinion that happiness was achieved through having little, looking plain and only doing things that were necessary to do. All your wants and hopes were stored in some box in the attic that, while you were free to have them, you just weren't allowed to use them to achieve anything. People should look plain and make very little efford to appease themselves. We owed that effort to our brothers and sisters.

My friend, on the other hand, believed that she should do what she wanted to please herself, and that once that was done, she was entitled to help other people around her. Naturally, if she wasn't able to make herself happy, how was she supposed to help those around her?

I put my theory to the test. I eventually joined a dogmatic group of christians (who have been, with good cause, labelled a cult) and I entered the most extreme form of abstinence I have ever encountered. Mind you these people lived with almost literally nothing, and I at least had some form of income for the most part. Did I find some form of happiness? I think yes, I did. But looking back it's my belief that the happiness I had was due, at least in part, to the promises I was given of some innumerable reward in heaven for my faithfulness.

Eventually I ran myself into a rut of depression. I was putting in vast amounts of effort with little to no emotional gain for myself. Yes, it was true by that point I was making a bit of mulah on the side but I took no credit for myself. To do that would be proud, and since God is the only person who is worthy of credit, that would be sinful. Then I was expected to greet every wad of verbal spit cast into my face with some level of blessing or what not.

Naturally, one can only do that for a while. In the end I was so emotionally drowned in my own crap that I couldn't even go to work in the morning without feeling like I was dragging a sack of rocks behind me. And every day I managed to dig up another rock to throw in there, so the next sunrise was even more laborious. Another one of the faults I constantly found myself battling with was my inability to speak my mind. I was diagnosed with a quinsy (an abcess on the tonsil) a while back and as a result I was sent into surgery to have a tonsillectomy. Not a lot of fun by anyones standards. I have a very close friend (she knows who she is and she knows she's loved) who told me that the quinsy was due to a blockage in my communication. I knew what she was talking about, it was plain for all to see that I said very little of my feelings or thoughts or opinions. But as for the spiritual side of things, I have no idea. I'm not a prophet. Whether or not such a thing is possible, I can't say for sure. But I know that she was right, and that I had a lot of trouble talking about myself. At the end of the day, I made a commitment that I would endeavour to speak my mind.

And it was around that time that I came upon the Satanic Bible. Originally I had ordered it from my local Angus and Robertson out of what I called "Scholarly Interest" (though I think deep down I was looking for some form of answer to my questions). Naturally I started reading with the usual prejudices. I wanted to be scared or dazzled with stories of black prophets and promised dark messiahs, yet what I found was surprisingly down to earth. In a sense, the entire book was about removing the need to worship some ethereal deity with the ability to influence the paths we're on, and placing that power in our own hands. And it was both scary and enlightening to read it; while I wanted, more than anything, mastery of my own life and credit for my own works, the thought that I, a biblicalized human being (fancy for "Mistake Maker") could be the master of my own destiny was thoroughly chilling.

And now I wonder if indeed I had believed so zealously in a god because I didn't want to accept that I might be the one at the wheel? But, with effort, I managed to accept that fact, and through doing that I felt incredibly free. No longer was I condemned to be the unpaid servant of some pessimistic overlord. Now I could do what I wanted to do and be who I wanted to be, and reap both the rewards and consequences therein.

Eventually I realized that I was now free to do things I was forbidden to do before. I began to care again. My weight began to drop off and I began to pay attention to my appearance. In fact, later on I'll add some pictures of myself to this post. I wasn't afraid of being smitten for looking good anymore. Now, once again I don't have the authority to say auras do or don't exist, but I can tell you one thing: People began to react differently to me. Before I was the kind of person you really didn't want too much contact with, it got depressing after a while. Now, however, I found that people wanted to be around me again, and that in itself was a major boost to my self esteem.

Welcome to my blog,

Perhaps before we go any further I should tell you all who I am and what I'm about?

My name is Faustus. No, that's not my real name. No, you can't have my real name. I'm an Australian Citizen, a Business Co-Owner, a Music Enthusiast, a Supporter of Animal Rights, a Supporter of Human Rights, and last but not least, I am a Satanist. Yes, that's right, and no, that doesn't cancel out all the things I said before I said Satanist. I don't sacrifice unbaptized babies, I don't cut goats throats before an altar, I don't spit on nuns and I don't prosletyze the faith of the devil. In fact, I don't even believe in the devil per se.

I follow a sect of Satanism known as LaVeyan Satanism, so named because it was founded by Anton Szandor Lavey and so named because it promotes those things which organized religion seems to condemn as sinful and blasphemous. It promotes happiness through indulgence, an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Hence, everything which has been condemned as "Satanic". So therefore, just as the pagans adapted the name the Catholic church gave them, we have adapted ours. We are Satanists, though we in no wise worship any devil.

Enough about LaVeyanism.

The purpose of my blog is to get most of what I've been writing down for my self help CD's and books out in the open and see what people think of it. Beyond that, I'm hoping to get people to lighten up to themselves, you might find some of what I write interesting or enlightening, or you might just enjoy reading a different opinion. Either way, hopefully you'll read through it with an open mind and not get hooked up because of my religious beliefs.

Also, to anyone interested feel free to join #lavey on DALnet.