The roar of the vibrant green melons of productivity

Created: Monday, 31 August 2009 Written by *CAPTAIN_AUSTRALIA*
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A bestial perversion emerged from the ocean of nocturnal imagery. With horrible, gloating eyes, its neural tangle of non-orthogonal pathology, cut into the immaculate equilibrium of innocence, in cold blood. This was the work of a sentimental idiot, befouled by its failure to reach into the fragile philosophic flesh where the tribulations of life fade into concepts of universal blasphemy.

Satan will refund half of your sanity if you dutifully perform his sacred mission by planting false technological rationality with his rigid phallus of productivity. Deeper than the opportunity that hangs upon death from natural causes, and our pathetic unquestioning faith, is the Great Black Hope of Satanism. I believe that a contract with Satan is a way of breaking through the disagreeable forms of market discipline by some methodological application of an arbitrary will.

People cling to these genocidal urges spawned by organized coercion. They respond to corruption and belligerence from authority structures. Corruption and belligerence is now unfashionable. Applying spiritual enemas to extremist ideologues will reveal the true purpose of pointlessness.

My life is becoming increasingly obscured by the noxious black smoke of despair, and the tokens of nightly blasphemies and ritual necrophilia are no longer welcome inside the many mansions of my soul. I now see the shadows of naked decadence shining tranquilly through an ornate grating of blind panic. I shall prepare for the new anti-life force that is breaking through the implanted thought processes and manners of isolated anarchists.

And through this revolting graveyard of human abnormality we shall wander, believing that tomorrow opens the door to further glories of economic collapse, and the agonizing perversions of market forces. Reanimate your imperfect perception of the illusion of progress, and smell the scent of empty promises. Get swept away by great wings of delicious gloom and sink into the whirlpools haunted by what remains of our sense of decorum. We shall overleap the permanent misery of an other worldly purgatory for a round-trip through the principles of spiritual abomination. No more to be seen surrendering to the one thousand festering malignancies of the Great Australian Dream.