A Euphemism For Impending Disaster

And so it goes... on the outer fringes of the society we call home... a story for the ages. Please wait in the shadows. By the way, S. Regimbald keeps calling me about some 6-wheeled vehicles that he claims I sell. He is not the first to do this, nor is he the last. My radio interview will air soon- check it out here. Now for the main event (as it were and is):


And so it all began as work concluded that Monday evening around 10:34:20 pm CDT. Just recalling it makes me somewhat melancholie, because now the anticipation is gone and the adventure over.

I arrived home and made two calls; one unimportant, the other much more important. I talked to Todd for a couple of minutes, getting all the details squared away for tomorrow. How naive we were, as we had no idea what we were in store for.

The clock indicated some time around 9:41am CDT as sat up in bed. I grabbed my ringing phone and talked to Tony Barnes squaring away more details. I was very productive on this morning, showering, running all of my errands indicated on the list I had made the night before, and making all the calls I needed to make (also from the list). As I was leaving the bank I contacted Todd. After our exchange I contacted Kelly.

My mouth was greeted with warm fruit filling as I bit into a cherry turnover that I had just made (productivity). I talked with Todd and Kelly again, finalizing the deal. Soon, they were both in my apartment and we were ready to proceed. After fueling up we hit the highway; east to Minneapolis. My car lead the way with Todd as passenger, Kelly followed not too far behind.

We hit the traffic as neared our destination at approximately 5:30pm CDT. Weaving our way in and out of congestion we finally found our exit, however finding parking would not be so easy. I made a few bad guesses and we back-tracked, all the way to the interstate only this time going the opposite direction. We exited and pulled over in a church parking lot, saving us all. Kelly (who was still following) parked and jumped into my car. A brief drive on the interstate got us back where we belong; there we found a residential zone with free on street parking.

Autolux took the stage; realistically there was probably nothing they could do to please me as I wasn't here to see them. They same could be said for the next band: Queens of the Stone Age. The lights went up and I knew the time was drawing near. Mesh semi opaque curtains now surround the stage, behind those curtains the final sound checks were being conducted, everything was being tested and prepared.

Sitting in the stands I heard "Pinion" beginning, slowly increasing volume, at first mixed with the music already playing. It was exactly what I was waiting for and I knew my wait was over. Within seconds the lights went out.


Go on to PART II

Superphasing Process #6

The final message regarding getting nominated to things: watch out. I'm not taking the position, mainly because of two things: 6 hours of training on Sunday, two meetings that may, "last well into the evening" next week. I talked to Sulicker about this and he suggested I stay the fuck away. My investigation of how this happened has led me to some not-so dark avenues. Too bad. I was playing Operation Mindcrime all week. I also listened to Hallowed be Thy Name with the lights off while wearing latex gloves for to stop the poison. Still I know I must remain vigilant, for any one of many people could lure me into one of many traps. We don't all understand the full complexity of it, but we do know that there exists a great many underground facilities in this city. Sometimes personal paranoia keeps you safe. Stay behind the curtain. Decongregate.

I testified in front of the Congressional comittee today for the TAA contract. I almost shit myself, sitting in front of some terribly right-wingers. They didn't really care what I had to say... or stumble around about. I thought they'd accuse me of being a pinko criminal for the striking that took place. I wasn't here at that time, and that's exactly what I would have said.

If you get WORT's Labor Radio (it might be on the web), I am doing an interview Friday. I'm also going to start writing a few preliminary scripts for my new TV show. The subject matter will vary widely, and it will reflect your life in some ways. Good luck to me.

General Laughter Agreement

Also known as your general postulate. A broken piece of fine vinyl, that's what I've become. No more laughter (or shortcuts) will be allowed; the internet has become a far too dark and increasingly intimidating force for to do business with. Way back when, just after the Kaypro era, but before the Pentium era, nerds and RPG fans (one in the same?) everywhere where experiencing first time sexual feelings at the mere thought of such a system. Anonymous insults and trickery ran rampant in a virtual environment. Nobody could deny the potential. Not even I, as I produced a "sex-pic finder" and received thousands of emails daily from people in search of "lesbian sex." Yes, people are generally that lame. If I was utilizing such a finder, I would search for something not so run-of-the-mill, like amputee puke fetish for example. For several years, an imaginary world controlled certain peoples' lives at the public library where they could participate in all-text realms where they could unleash their true being as a wizard. No longer being a hero in a 15 year old outcast's body was pure human liberty. Well, times have changed my friend(s). The romanticism is gone, and so are the days of pure creativity. Now the only real creativity stems from the trickery of traditional corporate manipulation and die-hard schemesters looking to get your credit card number. You are partially to blame. Think about that for a moment, as you browse the online strip-mall using multiple browsers, looking for the best price on a new palm pilot. Where have you gone Mr. Gimmelson... where have you gone?

Cerullo's Mind Fracture Ministry

A message sponsored by Captain Morris Cerullo:

I got 10 votes in the Associated Students of Madison election last week. I guess at least ten people know me. My final goal has been attained. Not only that, but the election was two times electronically botched, so only 25% of original voters voted. Do the math... there might be 40 people that want me in there. Did you vote for me?

That report was the second time I've had my name in the Badger Herald in two weeks. Both times have been under the radar, but don't be so quick to let your guard down Beckstrom!

Captain Sulu is on campus now. I missed it to watch Cops? Yep. That's nearly as pathetic a scenario as the complete lack of reader participation on this website. No more guilt trips, just the deep despair you will feel (under your own revelations). Opressive.

...and the bottom falls out

Information release rate on the rise- release now; quick; smooth. Captain Sulu will be visiting campus soon. He is gay, however, was never actually attracted to Scotty regardless of the number of times he got "beamed up." In fact, Scotty once knocked up Sulu's token wife. I'm going to get his autograph for you. Signed, Captain Sulu. I'll also contact Bruce Ohm. He knows more about Sulu than Sulu himself.

People on campus (well, two people at least) are selling their foreheads as advertising space. Good idea I say, but already done, at least indirectly. People are always selling away themselves for something- looks, popularity, clothing companies, crack, and cool ranch doritos. They also pass out flyers and shit. Can't anyone accomplish that? I guess if you have access to the market and you don't mind whoring. Well, good luck, more power to them. I will buy them for $10 later this week to advertise different me.

Black spell magic was used yesterday in arena event. Well known facts were used against the judge to restrain further obligations to the people of this fine county. You know, we just can't go on wandering within our shiny little helmets eating old white bread and slim jims. I mean that literally, and it shouldn't be confused with the march of Latinos used to obstruct the power structure and use their wives for bait. I know I did, and I carry no shame, guilt or pleasure. The latter would suffice, but isn't necessary in the master plan. As a matter of fun fact, they superimposed those very directions over a purchased map, which was subsequently used to divert attention from the jittery old guy in the white sports coat. Who was he trying to fool? That's precisely why I keep stamps with me all the time. If that letter needs mailing, their quiet footsteps will only cause me to drop the old fire attitude. Goodbye 10 cent postage, hello freedom. I think we can all agree that it's not free. With that said, the conclusion may be lazily clear, so lazily clear that you may have to crush up some prescription speed and focus your flickering eye. Now, in a moment of clarity, we can all appreciate the grand wonders of the doom cycle that we all so merrily take part in. Subjugate.

Riots, nuns and bunnies

Yes, I realize the readership has declined. No, this fact won't stop me from rambling endlessly with emotionally driven rock n' roll type writing, as I call it. Please refer to it as the same. This writing will be almost on par with the writing of the local school newspapers.

Riots have recently consumed the French cityscape. Why? Attempted labor attacks, the hoodlums claim. The riots have been lightly publicized, and what has been publicized is that the rioters are mosly despair immigrant teenagers looking for a car to burn and that they've settled down a lot since last week. I sure that to a certain extent the former report is true. Parallel: the Hell's Angels in the '60s - nearly every riot was attributed to them, and in each case, the statistics were greatly distorted to make it appear that they were terrible barbarians with a taste for rape and had bludgeoning via chain. Again, some of this was true, but mostly a few incidences were true and then trumped up by media in a general effort to scare the public into crushing them. The opposite effect is obvious here: soften the appearance of social unrest (ahh, it's no big deal), to prevent people from joining and starting their own riots, sit-ins, strikes, and shut-downs elsewhere. Like Burt Reynolds said in Smokey and the Banditm "It's fun to partake in these types of activities, and plus, you get to smash some glass."

UW-Madison has been ranked the #1 party school by Playboy. McGill was ranked #10. We are in good company.

A guy spoke at the business hall yesterday from the New York Times and reported that class differences are narrowing. How does he know? More people are using cell phones and traveling on jets, and people in Appalachia play golf. Howeve, he does concede that wage increases have not matched inflation for some 30 years and that education is becoming less and less affordable. Stained class. The division is so large now that nobody knows what the fuck they are. Many can't wear their class on their sleeves because 1) sleeves are expensive and 2) most foreign made sleeves are to cheap to even wash let alone write on them with powerful solvent-based markers.

The Badger Herald is not funny and shouldn't try to be. For April Fool's Day they produced a gag issue. The Herald, in all of its conservative glory, at least can be said to hold a mostly fair position of having open forum discussion on issues, however, they also terribly exaggerate "liberal" views and take full advantage of their medium. Anyway, I really wanted to talk about their stupid "funny" paper that you simply can't pull off in a city where The Onion was created. They had a mock interview with Chuck Norris (including references to sites like this one). They also doctored up some funny photographs and other performed some other funny tricks. What would have been funny is having an article showing Daryn Beckstrom in dirty, sick pornagraphic postitions of submission, doctored photograph or not. Or maybe story on how having a loud moped means that you have a really quiet insecurities about your ability. Maybe a funny story about how most of the regular column writers were raised on the sweet sounds of Eddie Money... "I wanna go back, go back, and do it all over... just like Ronnie said." Or better yet, they could avoid all embarrassment by just not making the attempt.

So, their you have it, the top 5 stories of the times. I may be a real shit for brains, but wrtiting this is better than having my raw flesh consumed by that starving pack of cats outside of my door. You are a starving cat... an ugly starving, sickly kittie, and nothing more. Good day-