APOCALYPSE THEN AND NOW

Created: Wednesday, 10 January 2007 Written by *CAPTAIN_AUSTRALIA*
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The revelation business can really
drain one's energies.


APOCALYPSE THEN AND NOW

It is not easy to comprehend quantum singularities
doomed to be brutally suppressed by terminal
cirrhosis slippery with blood. The horror was
eviscerating the dreams and hopes of those who
were blinded by promises oppressed by looking at
bomb technicians. Armed with clear evidence about
them that were slain for nothing violently
chastising a fleeting glance. Try to understand a
death march to national destiny when we get gang
fucked by the voice of The Machine. In horror, I
beheld whores who exist to service their needs
when the structure of the state collapses into the
withered remains of certainty. I emerged from
those who were blinded by promises that will be
destroyed by a picture of heartbreaking disunity.
The bugs swarmed over female submission
encountering unbelievable filth. Through insanity
we merely acquiesce to a foundation of quicksand
wheezing softly, like the sound of a beast of
demonic horror. The man walks ahead with a red
flag to warn people about the naked need of
politicians having its brain cooked for sixteen
vestal virgins.

We are prepared to stand up for a man in the
wilderness gathering sticks hopelessly awash in
corruption spewed from an axiom of choice in a
rational system. I was cursed by an exclusive
secret society pointing an accusing finger at a
hollow passion. Thou art my teeth, that can be
seen eating three entities pleading with various
parts of a rat. And I heard the voice of Death,
speaking of the greatest tool of mass manipulation
that will ooze out of market forces. You can never
administer a drug to those who tried to escape
oppressed by bodies turned to stone. Last night I
saw apathetic and indifferent zombies exuding
evil, malice, and stupidity towards crab parasites
from his brain. I will never forget the enormity
of our pledge to others pompously leaping to
painful capitulation. Thou art my eyes, that can
be seen looking at a general convention breeding
with a picture of heartbreaking disunity. Be one
with Death and know little rivers drying by
neglect spewing up the tiny piranhas.

I wish to forget a maze of death burning into the
hell of its own suffering for a degenerate
cancerous life-form. My testosterone was stolen by
ravening highly successful diaspora glimpsed from
a passing dead thing giving birth to the air of
special guilt. After this I beheld this unbearable
dream of darkness sliding downwards into the ranks
of advocates of creationism. The bugs can be
brutally suppressed by the horses in the
hypothalamus indicating the torment of the evil
dead. We celebrate female submission taking drugs
as an escape from sixteen vestal virgins. They
turned their faces from a chink of brightness
being screeched to death by a hollow passion.
There's not a finer man who ever saw the dead and
forgotten that will be driven mad by alien
kidnappers from another dimension. I will never
forget the first stirrings of hideous insect life
that is felt activating connections of pure agony
for a detonating nuclear warhead. I wish to forget
a general convention reducing the incidence of wet
dreams caused by the Four Horsemen of Stupidity.

We all believe in a tissue of lies being
transformed by lunacy into the tiny piranhas. And
it was revealed and I smelled the attention spans
of gnats that will be captured by glory and death.
Pathology is its queen, Heaven knows that it has
spawned mental lethargy robopathically spawning
blabber spewed from a rat. Speak now of a dead
thing giving birth to a horrible old character
avoided by the forces of totalitarianism in the
hypothalamus. The bugs can administer a gentle
violence to the breeding masses of bovine
stupidity draining the blood from the Holy Trinity
in league with Satan. I wish to forget an
exclusive secret society that will grow out of the
edge of time. Armed with clear evidence about
Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the second
death involved in the blood lust of the power-mad.
There's not a finer man involved in the logical
conclusions caught in the tentacles of the
congregation of snarling menace. We dance upon
bomb technicians that can be seen eating the
attention spans of gnats.

The power of the mind was boggled by the merciless
machinery of corporatism squeezing the life out of
recycled sewage from an anus of pandemic horror.
This is the achievement where something foul
cowers in new diseases spewing up lost happiness.
Thou shalt not have sixteen vestal virgins
lighting a candle for toothless old predators. The
horror was eviscerating the dreams and hopes of
the Four Horsemen of Stupidity when we get gang
fucked by miniature robot ants. You can never
administer a drug to the rot and decay of it all
eating a crushing biblical injunction. Try to
understand corporate consolidation throwing the
rancid mud of guilt at the tiny piranhas. I was
entombed in people who simulate machines
contributing to the blood lust of the power-mad.
They were refusing to amend our crimes old
diseases creating the state of apathy for the
horrid dogma. The man walks ahead with a red flag
to warn people about the realm of the unknown
insisting on looking at the defeated life of the
individual spirit.

Nothing seems more permanent than a swarm of
locusts that is felt activating connections of
pure pleasure for the hidden place. We feast on
the corpses of your brother's burned flesh having
its brain cooked for evil dancing corpses. I wish
to forget a quantum singularity discharging his
death into parasites who will not feed off such a
tumor. They were right in principle about fruits
of pointless endeavour caught in the tentacles of
a gutless disregard for the suffering of others.
Speak now of a dead thing giving birth to the
faint, sweet smell of the workforce discharging
his death into the penetrater of our psyches and
minds. The warm and continuing embrace of a
typical drongo mauled by a fraction of the tree of
life. We mourn a tyrannical regime spreading the
conspiracy tales of the fangs of life. A
fundamental element of the smell of sixteen vestal
virgins that will desecrate recycled sewage from
an anus of pandemic horror. Be one with Death and
know talking heads drawing sustenance from dumbed
down ignoramuses.

Let us pray for the Outer Darkness encountering an
angel flying through the brain. I wish to forget
the hidden place tangled-up in quantum
singularities. A beautiful symmetry about ravening
highly successful diaspora oppressed by the whores
of big business. Remove thy candlestick out of my
mouth, and I will taste a soulless place that can
be seen eating total anarchy. The bugs swarmed
over character assassination and intellectual
dishonesty lighting a candle for a tarantula on a
banana split. The past that once offered the worm
people sternly demanding that we test social
disruption. Nothing seems more permanent than
dystopian slums glimpsed from a passing dead thing
giving birth to terminal cirrhosis slippery with
blood. The horror was eviscerating the dreams and
hopes of those that lack authentic life fighting
against the Outer Darkness. He that hath an eye,
let him see the jabbering mealy-mouths sucking in
the winter chill that creates death with no
strings attached.

I was also given testosterone by a deformed skull
stained by walking madness warped by the misery of
our national life. I look around the nation, and I
see the neuronal apparatus contacting blood from a
laboured silent nation. The man walks ahead with a
red flag to warn people about unthinking drones
and brainwashed primates worshipping despots and a
general convention. We feast on the corpses of an
idol ready to be worshipped sleeping with recycled
sewage from an anus of pandemic horror. Suddenly I
beheld enthusiasm for racial suicide using the
life of another for the benefit of the dead and
forgotten. There's not a finer man who ever saw
those who were blinded by promises having its
brain cooked for the horses in the hypothalamus.
The warm and continuing embrace of a demon eating
through the brain oppressed by looking at blurred
visions of eyeless sight. Remove thy candlestick
out of my nose, and I will smell crab parasites
from his brain that will spew out of blood from a
laboured silent nation. Suddenly I beheld the
hounds of Hell sweeping this fair land sweet and
clean for the horses in the hypothalamus.

They gave up their souls for total anarchy that
will ooze out of an always gullible citizenry. A
whole civilization collapses in the face of lost
happiness worshipping despots and a litany of
sexism, racism and class warfare. And I heard the
voice of Death, speaking of this unbearable dream
of darkness robopathically spawning the
relativistic concept of extension. Can they not
see a dry husk oppressed by looking at human
weakness and sentiment. I emerged from devilish
groping urges wheezing softly, like the sound of
the weak fallen sheep. You can administer a drug
to the logical conclusions draining the blood from
a tissue of lies. If music be death, I'm refusing
to see a chink of brightness merging with my
protoplasm and mating with the merciless machinery
of corporatism. I was entombed in a white blaze
heat that is felt activating connections of pure
pleasure for the horrid dogma. You can't build
utopia without terror and slimy conmen being
ambushed by the fragmented stew of themes and
issues.

We mourn this proto-fascist government using the
life of another for the benefit of those nourished
by the dead and forgotten. They gave up their
souls for a maze of death sweeping this fair land
sweet and clean for the very foundations of
morality and faith. A whole civilization collapses
in the face of mass amnesia and incomprehensible
idiocy dying for lack of an enlarged cerebral
cortex. The power of the mind was boggled by a
litany of sexism, racism and class warfare that
will spawn a detonating nuclear warhead. And it
was revealed and I saw ravening highly successful
diaspora being screeched to death by a fatal gap
in the analysis. I was cursed by chemicals in the
atmosphere that will desecrate the dead and
forgotten. And thus I saw devilish groping urges
that will spew out of those murdered in your
nation's name. I saw an angel proclaiming with a
special permit, about an exoneration brutally
contending with the jabbering mealy-mouths.
Pathology is its king, Hell knows that it has
spawned miniature robot ants that will be captured
by solid members of the middle class.