Joe was doing what he does best. Sitting back, strumming his guitar. Working it all out. The song, an old American folk tune, one that Johnny Cash loved to play:

As I walked out on the streets of Laredo.
As I walked out on Laredo one day,
I spied a poor cowboy wrapped in white linen,
Wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay.

"I can see by your outfit that you are a cowboy."
These words he did say as I boldly walked by.
"Come an' sit down beside me an' hear my sad story.
"I'm shot in the breast an' I know I must die."

"It was once in the saddle, I used to go dashing.
"Once in the saddle, I used to go gay.
"First to the card-house and then down to Rose's.
"But I'm shot in the breast and I'm dying today."

"Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin.
"Six dance-hall maidens to bear up my pall.
"Throw bunches of roses all over my coffin.
"Roses to deaden the clods as they fall."

"Then beat the drum slowly, play the Fife lowly.
"Play the dead march as you carry me along.
"Take me to the green valley, lay the sod o'er me,
"I'm a young cowboy and I know I've done wrong."

"Then go write a letter to my grey-haired mother,
"An' tell her the cowboy that she loved has gone.
"But please not one word of the man who had killed me.
"Don't mention his name and his name will pass on."

When thus he had spoken, the hot sun was setting.
The streets of Laredo grew cold as the clay.
We took the young cowboy down to the green valley,
And there stands his marker, we made, to this day.

We beat the drum slowly and played the Fife lowly,
Played the dead march as we carried him along.
Down in the green valley, laid the sod o'er him.
He was a young cowboy and he said he'd done wrong Quote

Meanwhile... in New York...

fzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz wheeeeeeee whoooooooo wheeeeeeeee whoooooooooooo

It... is... time................

for...

lights.......... out............ theatre

Turn off the lights.............................

Turn up your radio...............................

The President has something to say to you.... you....... you.....

My... fellow Americans... wheeeeeeee whoooooooooooo wheeeeeeeeeeeee this day....
in..... wheeeeeeeeeeeee whooooooooooooooooooooooooo whooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeee war...
whooooooooooowahrooooooooooooo persevere will never perish..... wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeer

it was... Johnny.



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There is no creature as sexy as the octopus. He's got colors, and ability to change colors, that rival the showiest bird or reptile. He has an intelligence, a mind for sex, that you will find hard to match even in any other kingdom. He knows... drama... sudden decisive motion, strong love clinches, how to explore the cracks of the reef, to find what he yearns for. He can hunt... he can hide... he can grip... he can stretch. He can even... ink.

Legs, he has eight. He is symmetric from any approach. Eyes oh so full of alien mystery, lips well, wasn't your first kiss a little fishy too. .

He can bloat up in sympathy for your saddness, he can flatten himself to squeeze into any crack, he is sensitive, fragile, but so deadly when he turns tough, as a lover he cannot be topped.

Oh he squishes when you ride him. He doesn't look very good in a thong. But you mustn't deride him for he can grow some 30 foot long (some species, in some stories) but hey...
he's no squid in the shower, no shrimp on the crawl. He doesn't just date Asians, no he favors them all.


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It was THE day. Many millions back. I mean Joe gets really worked up when something BIG happens, not gradually but with a BANG! A punctuation!

Joe: Hello hello my babies. The councillor is in!

He plunked down a desk in the middle of the rain forest clearing... On it the words GUIDANCE COUNCILLOR. Whipped out a fold up chair and sat down behind it. Puffing on a crude version of a Havana and grinning ear to ear.

Three hominids, obviously of different species, stood before him. One very large, brutish. One very small, cute and clever looking. The medium sized one seemed a kind of compromise between these two. Sharp but nervous. Tough but against today's fauna more of a runner than a fighter.

Joe: Who wants to be first?

Big Hominid: Raaaaaaaaarggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Joe: Sorry big fellah. Not you I'm afraid.

And he shot him with a dart that was doped up nicely. The hominid was out cold in a flash.

Joe: Whoooooooooo's next.

Little Hominid: Coooooooooooo. Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr prrrrrrrrrrrrr prrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Joe: Awwwwwwwwwwwwww. Perfectly delightful, but.... sorry.

In a trice the second hominid was out cold and sleeping next to his big cousin.

Joe: The winner, and new ruler, the ascendent of all species, the flower of the Earth's loins is crowned.

The middle hominid blushed and kind of backed to the edge of the clearing, hooping to avoid being shot with a dart.

A ship came down from the sky and lifted Joe and the winning hominid into the air. They flew out and over the Great Rift Valley, northward, for the ooast. From where the craft would land it would be an easy walk to what would one day be Egypt, the land of the Hittites, the steppes of central Asia, and, unless growing impatient and rowing across, finally, the future Europe and current home of another hominid species that had paved the way but been deemed unworthy.

The two sleeping hominids lived out their days merrily in the hot tropics of Africa. Their line kind of petering out gradually. Never seeing their cousin again...



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Ohhhh the lessons, great and small, to be derived from the previous scene. First, you may object that there were only 3 hominids potrayed. 3 individuals. Yes yes we all understand the workings of the birds and the bees, we do not think the author, as fixated as he might be on icon shattering, we do not think him to be suggesting that these hominids were asexual, clone replicating beings... No by Jake and the Sixteen Petty Vices, this was an example of artistic license. We felt that too many hominids in one scene just wouldn't work quite right. You'd have so many in the audience missing the point that these were 3 separate species, that Joe was making a choice here, the one that resulted in you being here all bald and meek for the most part instead of large and hairy or... well you get the picture don't you?

Joe might be a whiz in the lab but clearly he prefers the slow natural way. Because of his preference, it was really really hard for man to detect that he had been fucked with. It's not like there was some part of us that Joe left a direct signature upon. But oh mamma did he fix us good. Reeeeeal good. If you think you wanna take a swing at God for something he's done to you right now you'd better save that for Joe. You'll need it.

But I digress. We were part of a big flowering bush. A big genus. Now, only one little species in the boquet. Why? Do you rally blame it on our bad tempers, our need to be number one, our competitive advantage, or some such thing? Why shouldn't there be hominids of different stripes and flavors hanging out in our cities right now?

Cling to your illusions, surviving ones, the truth is that it was only because you are the easiest to fuck with. The wet dream of Team Evil...



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Flagg wailed and moaned. He whacked at a thick thick rainforest tree with a halberd.

"THEY ARE STILL MONKEYS!!! IT HAS BEEN FOUR FUCKING MILLION YEARS SINCE I WAS LAST HERE!!!!!"

Joe: Easy... easy. They're furher along than just monkeys. It will be longer till they are worth your time. Why don't we make a deal, you come and visit us every few million years until they know about fire and the wheel. Then come and visit us every few thousand while they figure out how to talk and to write.

Joe you see had the right perspective. Flagg wasn't really a very attentive student and never had really understood Biology, even though he'd make any Biology teacher very, very excited to study.

Joe: They are kind of boring right now but I assure you they'll give you lot's of fun in the future. In the meantime, have you ever really seen a volcano go off, I mean, its crown disappear and giant tsunamiis kick off? Come with me to the tropics and lets get a front row seat for this island that is gonna go so far below sea surface in just a little while.

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We see in others so easily what Joe embedded in us. Take for example time. Look at how convoluted the arguments of the young earth believer become when confronted with contradictory evidence. He will say very odd things like "there is no consistency between the different techniques of dating this or that" or worse "why should natural laws move at the same rates then as now" What he is saying, without thinking about it is, why should the sun rise every day and set every night at about the same time. Why should dogs remain dogs when we tuck them in every night and not wake as cats. When we try to prove to ourselves diffiult things... we sometimes go through great lengths to protect some preferred world view, some feeling, some hope. And then proudly say, after our gymnastics, you can't prove otherwise.

How much easier it is to proceed when we bring in plausibility, likelihood, probability. When you say to someone: "You are right that I can't strictly show that that event did not occur, I think we can both agree that it is highly unlikely compared to other scenarios that also fit this data. It has the benefit both of voicing a complaint with some aspect of their logic as well as admitting that we don't know, nor can we expect to know, all truth, or see all events as they happen in our universe.

But then the evil doer merely needs to push the Joe button embedded so deep within us and say "a flawless authority has decreed this to be truth. He is too busy and important to explain to you why it is truth, or how he came to know this, You must believe it or face his condemnation"

Joe marveled at this trait when it really came to be. He had accomplished it by introducing a bump in the development path that caused a promising bit of neurons to get rubbed out in a tight squeeze. These creatures had a hard time with probabilites and an easy time in following some dubious authority figure. Just like gulls following a red dot.

Some of their most gifted mathematicians, that arose after they stopped k1lling them as witches, or deserters from the wars, these too had the same weakness. Here it often seemed to be plain selfish cowardice as they turned to their work for solace and let tyrants rule unquestioned. There were some of course who did resist and publicly question such devious things but something always made their words ineffective against the infected majority. Was it something about their delivery, about their presentation? Maybe their words did not seem meant for the general public and were thus not listened to. The mob can tell when a speech is directed over their heads, or when the speaker does not want to descend in among them for some cause. The mob has its own mind, let it be damned in other words.

Our literature and history are full of the fun that Team Evil has had by playing upon these themes. When we laughed at death and sought to be heroic, they played upon our ignorance. When we downplayed fame and honor in exchange for noble obedience and sacrifice they simply ruled over us. When we won our freedom and crowned Reason our king they mocked us, corrupted us, and showed how unworthy we are to call ourselves Reason's subjects. And now beset with what sometimes seems a healthy cynicism, a distrust of all arguments whether they be constructed well or not... they rejoice at our lack of cohesion and purpose, swaying us with ease.

The derision of the species is at their core. We will always be those awkward apes to them and nothing more. Their toys. Their experiments. If there is to be a rise against their power we must reach within ourselves and find that will that they think is not there. And reach a glorious destiny.







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BEOWULF!!! *GONG!!!* BEOWULF!!!! *GONG!!!*

What man cannot help but smile at mention of the hero's name? King! Protector of his people! Even in death magnificent... immortal.

Summon his spirit before battle and you will fight as well as any of Odin's.

Legends spun in bl00d, gold, and fire about the mighty one. No legend quite as compelling as the truth.

Slayer of fiends! Nearly incorruptible. We'll take that nearly as that which makes him human.

He was made of the same stuff as you. He was similarly constrained. But he showed what the will can do to make us more than the sum of many parts.

He paid his bl00d debt back to the gods well. Locked in monster's embrace. Breaking his clinch only when death robbed him of more glory.

As occasional flashes of brilliance in our golden stream we have seen our will flash warning to our tormenters that their day is coming. That despite the "science" done upon us... we will someday rise to tower above them and will decide their puny fates at our leisure.

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BEOWULF!!! *GONG!!!* BEOWULF!!!! *GONG!!!*

What man cannot help but smile at mention of the hero's name? King! Protector of his people! Even in death magnificent... immortal.

Summon his spirit before battle and you will fight as well as any of Odin's.

Legends spun in bl00d, gold, and fire about the mighty one. No legend quite as compelling as the truth.

Slayer of fiends! Nearly incorruptible. We'll take that nearly as that which makes him human.

He was made of the same stuff as you. He was similarly constrained. But he showed what the will can do to make us more than the sum of many parts.

He paid his bl00d debt back to the gods well. Locked in monster's embrace. Breaking his clinch only when death robbed him of more glory.

As occaisonal flashes of brilliance in our golden stream we have seen our will flash warning to our tormenters that their day is coming. That despite the "science" done upon us... we will someday rise to tower above them and will decide their puny fates at our leisure.


... once ... there was a girl who rode upon a dragon ... brave and thin and strong and silly ... she rescued me ... hun var Valkyrja min

. The Girl .




*blue ermin loop� we were in our jeans http://www.flirt4free.com/forums *
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... once ... there was a girl who rode upon a dragon ... brave and thin and strong and silly ... she rescued me ... hun var Valkyrja min

. The Girl .




*blue ermin loop� we were in our jeans http://www.flirt4free.com/forums *



Aiiiiigggggghhhh! The singing blue bear!




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** REMOVED BY ADMINISTRATOR ** Quote

The developing ch1ld cyles through a number of heros. He has been the fearless ancient type like Achilles.

He has also been the knight. Sworn to goodness. Upholding virtue. Suddenly obsessed with protecting and posessing the fairer sex. Naive and that is perhaps part of his charm. Living in a time of honor and magic. Or so he thinks, perhaps the most easily beguiled of all the heros.

He has been the John Wayne hero. Patriotic. In control. Tough but oh so weak philosophically and more vulnerable than he knows.

The Clint Eastwood hero, possessing a code but perhaps not a country or cause, living day to day with modest goals. Using deceit, dirty tricks to stay even with the bad guy. Never outgunned. But, not the guy you wanna send to the peace conference after the big waar to negotiate the peace.

The Captain Kirk hero, one that I have a fondness for. Kind of like the Clint Eastwood hero for deceit but much warmer. Likely to hug a Klingon rather than to gutshot him. But not so idealistic as to be foolish. Tough. Humorous. Practical. Healthy attitude toward the opposite sex. Focused on his mission. Hmmmmm I am having trouble finding a flaw with this one. Although it is quite a standard to live up to.

The Jean Luc Picard hero. Keeps ferns on the bridge... the weanie.


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Abstinence Abstinence Aaaaaaaaaabstiiiiiiiineeeeeeence

And now another reading from the Book of Ride...

She is so amazingly super hot that you fear you will rub your nads totally off. Night after night you have stayed up late fucking her so completely in your mind, your bed becoming just a sweaty, hazy, sticky swamp...

You...... must........ regain.......... control...........

Pfft this one is simplicity itself. You have been up for days right? She is a problem for you after work, around bedtime, right? Yours is the vigorous type of piston popping love right?

Well we will make use of man's natural ability to sleep himself to glory. First, eat light during the day. Go to the grocery store. Pick out some nice steaks, rich dessert, big potatoes, and a gallon milk. When you get home from work immediately dress in your serious pjs. The ones you wear for those extra long hibernations. Off with clocks. Off with lights.

Grill up that steak with your door locked, phone disconnected, TV off. Focus on the steak. See it sizzle. Lust to hunger. Lust to hunger. mmmmmmm fill that hard body, that has been working so long and hard for the genes, fill it with steak. Fill it with potatoes. Feel your tired muslces suddenly loosen and start to soak up the nutrients you've been too busy to provide. Massage your poor tired self so that more warm, juicy protein rich steak can fill you. Capped with baked potates. Slather milk in last. Straight armed and proud Viking style. Washing face in it. For you are free again. A wild thing. Full of feast and now for bed.

Sleep victorious one. Your mind and stomach have triumphed over the genes yet again. Surely Joe must begin to fear, to fear your Spartan discipline...

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And after the sleep, chores. First that bed... Laundry time.

*singing* Just a man, a man and his wastebucket, against the wooooooooooooorrrrrrld

* more singing * Johnny went to Mossycow, Jean Francois, Johnny went to Mossycow, Jean Francois waaaayaaaaayyaaaaaaah.

Ahhhhhh sheets billow in the breeze. That fresh pine scent everywhere. Maybe do some cleaning around the home.

* still more singing * ohhhhh we owe we oooooowwwwwwweeeeeee ohhhh we owe we oooooooooooowwwwwe

Every ship inspires that has been set back on course. With mainsails full of purposeful wind. With hulls wet with sea. With barnacles scr8ped and course laid!

Haul anchors and depart these environs. It is time to be the ramblin man....

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To illustrate the cruelty of the morphospace, as if you have not already grasped it, consider the question once posed by Fermat: "Are you in your own morphospace?"

What does this even mean? If you are a guy, what is the girl equivalent of you? Well, one way to arrive at this is to take each of your characters and to scale them appropriately for a smaller body size. Big nose goes to big nose though somewhat reduced for girly face. Also don't forget to account for makeup which can soften a jagged crag, this is allowed by the morphospace which is a pretty shallow entity when you get right down to it.

There are other methods but I am impatient at the time of this writing and will cut to the chase: YOU ARE NOT IN YOUR OWN MORPHOSPACE!!!!

Now how fucked up is that? Your whole life you have worked to make yourself just the way you like and this creation is nowhere near the equivalent opposite sex morphospace. Could it be that you were not meant for yourself? That you are incompatible with yourself? Is this Nature working for the best or the black hand of Joe?

Well, I think I would make a great soul mate for myself. Think we would agree quite well on how to spend our free time. Would share fairly chores, favors, the mundane side of living with each other. The fact that I am repelled by myself, thanks to the fucking genes, it a very disquieting thing.

Oh you can say maybe this is Nature's way to keep us from breeding too genetically close. But my family is nothing like me. My closest match is found in another family. Plenty of distance away genetically. No, it is as if some diabolical force has shifted the morphospace by 180 degrees phase, has changed the optimum spacing a bit to confuse matters, and painted it an upsetting grayish green.

YOU.... WILL... NEVER... BE... SEXUALLY... STABLE... unless this fundamental problem with the spaces is fixed...

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madly in love with this turn of the genetic ... (grins)(Toothsome)(whitening.sessions)

. masks .




*blue ermin loop� odd movements to Frank Sinatra sounds http://www.flirt4free.com/forums * Quote

As inevitable as Death. Or so it would seem. For the being with no wrinkles, who loves to strum those old folk tunes written by the species he torments, who once thought his job with them was done and he could relax a few million, didn't catch everything. When your timescale is in the millions you might get a little sloppy over some decades, some critical decades...

He knew from the moment he first dated the other sex. He had already traversed his first plane, minor one out of sight of gods and philosophers. He sensed the wrongness. The disjointedness. He freaked out his date to Homecoming by looking at her only from the corner of his eyes in an effort to spot something that wasn't there. He would whip his head to the left and squint, bend over and look cock-eyed through his legs, making her quite embarrased to have said yes to this weirdo no matter how bright he might be.

He knew no one else spotted it. He heard nothing on the airwaves or read anything in the journals regarding it. Hell they were just trying to keep the religeous nuts at bay. Not very receptive to a malignent force theory since they had only too recently triumphed over the notion of a divine one.

He knew evil. Intent to harm. Inability to create. Except.... except to harm in the future. It reeked of it. His date for example. Nothing like him. She'd dazzle him into stupor with her sexual power over him if he weren't so damned conscious of how wrong she and everything else was in this goddamned existence. But where lived the evil? Or was it a machine set in motion years ago?

And how to prove it. So much myth. So much crud. It really was an embarrasment to the species how they'd let this get so outta control without any suspicion, so fucking gullible. And rage started to boil in him, down in his inner core, he sensed a foot on mankind's neck. Some evil demonic foot. He vowed that it would be his life's work to find this foot and lift it. To raise mankind up on its feet. To look with eyes unclouded by whatever forces were arrayed in front of its and see the possibities for tales without tragic endings, healthy and complete families, death and taxes the only inevitable remaining challenges for this man...

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If on day extra sunny...
You get extra comfy...
And see yourself comin' through the rye.,..

Oh do you feel ecstatic
And if not can you tell me why?

The rye grows tall and golden
It's another's hand ye want to be holden
Don't you toss your hand in, ne'er folden
Oh my honey pieeeeeeeeee.

Music was made to unite lovers
A duet does it for plovers
Sister can you tell my why?
Oh when your heart does its necromancy
I'll catch you in the ryeeeeeeeeee.




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Scene: Almost up to the present... Flagg and Joe tape each other's Red Wedding Reaction

Joe: heh heh Have you started the tape?

Flagg: You know it Jumpin' Joe! Can't wait! These monkey boys are now really worth it!

Joe: *eyes watering * sniff... Thanks... Thanks Flagg...

* both singing * And who are you... my lord he said...

Joe: Take that! By Jamie's hand!

* more singing * That I must bow sooooooo low

Flagg: Get your body behind it! Damn! I hate these cuts to nonaction.

Joe: No no. It helps you savor it more.

* Louder now * Only a cat of a different coat

Joe: See see. They are gonna bag the wolf now.

Flagg: Pfft. Sentamentalists.

whiff whiff whiff Yipe Yipe Yipe

Flagg: That's what a cur gets that serves slaves.

Joe: shhhh shhhh

Flagg: Oh this is just the little girl scenes. Oh booo hooo all my foolish family slaughtered.

Joe: *giggling* You've no heart.

Flagg: Well sniveling around in rags isn't gonna find me one either.

* Rum and more singing * Is all the truth I know... In a coat of gold or red...

Joe: Aaaaaaaand we're back.

Flagg: I'll get me another. I'll get me another. I'll get me another. I'll get me another.

* from the set * I'll get me another

Flagg: WOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! My kind of scum!

* singing * And mine are long and sharp my lord... As long and sharp as yours...

Flagg: *jumping up and crashing his halberd into lamps, bookshelves, potted plants* Die Stark! It's the end for you Stark! Oh Robbie boy, the kn1fe the kn1fe is caaaaawwwwwwwlllllllling and my halberd is by its siiiiiiiiide. *crash*

Joe: Sit down. Now it's the bitch. The one you've waited so long for.

Flagg: Yeah... an eternity.

Joe: Wait for it... * nice form she's got though * Wait for it... Wait for it...

Flagg & Joe together: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

* singing * Without... a soul... to... hear.............



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Oh the games played by tyrants are as old as time itself. Even today they think we do not see their simple minded lies.

1) We take this territory because it is ours. Yet you lost it somehow?

And now you risk precious life to take what you could not hold once again with no guarantee of being able to hold it in the future? Nonsense!

2) We take this territory because it is the last bit needed for our stability. Our natural size. Or we need a port because we are so fucking port impoverished.

Empire after empire has grown and then VOLUNTARILY split up because a father wished to avoid conflict among his sons, or west was easier to govern separately than east, etc etc So what was the great need to put all that land under one crown? For the large empire's passing glory, a glory existing in their own foolish minds. They snuffed out life for its sake, that glory, and their actions would today be seen by many as criminal.

Oh a nation may need to reach a certain size for its own security. To be a local power. There are realities to be sure in the political sphere that must be satisfied. But haven't the majority of the powers realized these boundaries already? Is there really any nation choking so much from lack of land in this age that it must war to achieve its aims?

The tyrant, the villain, will be known throughout history as such. His glory in his own eyes only. His nation and neighbors will suffer for his folly. This is the lesson of History and not the pronouncement of any jury. He has shown that he is unworthy to lead, has learned nothing from the past, and will only lead his people away from their dreams.



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