Occational Dose of Chaos (JV's Random Thoughts)
Well, persons of chaos. Time to share some of our amazing information with you. Not all of it, of course. Even this tiny dose could drive an ordinary man insane. The truth should set you free. We think. Still, we suggest you do not read all of it in one sitting, just in case your head explodes while reading it. Place a tarp around your chair anyways, just to be on the safe side. In the begining there was pie. And it was good. But that can be expected, as (and this is important) what else could pie be but good? There was nothing but pie. You would tell the time by looking at the pie. Except there was no time, only pie. And no you either for that matter. Just pie, which was good. Understand? But then there came the bad pie. The spinach pie of Miss Elmira P. Donkleberg: 243 Express Road; Calcutta, Washington. And the time of pie ended. A force was required to balance out the good and evil of pie: chaos. Now, you may be wondering how Miss Elmira P. Donkleberg existed if there was only pie. That is a very good question. Thus ends the first entry of Chaos.

The second entry of chaos, for it is hard to type with our small appendages. After the begining came the days after the begining. They were alright, we guess. If you're into that whole "creating the universe out of nothing but pie and chaos" thing this would be right up your alley. But The Powers That Sometimes Be realized something was missing (not mankind, mankind is... well, we will get to that later). This universe would not, nay could not, be held together simply by pie and chaos. The Powers That Sometimes Be needed something sticky that could set and define reality. So they created the holy combination of The Box (now called television) and Duct Tape. The task of The Box was to define reality. For is it not written, "if you see it on television, it must be true"? Answer: yes, and it is written here. The task of the Duct Tape was to hold the universe together. This was originally assigned to Hard Work, but Hard Work sucks. Hard Work beats his wife and is mean to his children. Chaos has and always will be against Hard Work (and we have the moral high ground too). At this point The Powers That Sometimes Be ceased to be. Some say they began to Ae, but those people are idiots and should be shot on sight. Thus ends the second entry of chaos.

The third entry of chaos, because we have room for one more. After the leaving of The Powers That Sometimes Be, The Box fell asleep. Some may wonder how sleep came to be. We say, "Silence, or you will be placed in the pit with the other foolish mortal who dared question our will." The box dreamed of many strange and terrible things: it dreamed of a horrible place where all your worst nightmares come true, and this place is now called Ohio; it dreamed of a land where anything can be done, and this place is now called Mexico; it dreamed of a mysterious place where only large groups of people could enter and survive, and this place is now called The Carpool Lane; yes, The Box dreamed of many things. It also dreamed of a magical land of hopes and dreams, but we forgot where it went. Then The Powers That Sometimes Be came back, and man were they wasted. One member of The Powers That Sometimes Be, in a drunken furry, attempted to eat the pie. But Chaos saved the pie from being swallowed (we're cool like that). The spit soaked pie fell onto the dream of The Box and mankind and all the little plants and animals and fish and birds and bacteria and viruses and tacos and fish and cars and trees came into being (it was a pot pie). Then The Powers That Sometimes Be passed out and the world was left to Chaos. Thus ends the third entry of chaos.

This kinda sounds like "intelligent design." Can we teach that here at WM?

Only if we teach HIS design also: http://www.venganza.org/

We believe today is a good day to read the notes making up the 1,111th and one third entry of Chaos: (on the subject of End of the World, part II) And behold, there will be an earthquake. Birds and snakes, an aeroplane, and Lenny Bruce will be not afraid. Then the Robot Devil will turn off his REM CD and the end of the world will begin. The dead will fall from their graves and the world shall be engulfed in sandwiches. Pie shall return and do battle with the Robot Devil, but the Robot Devil has metal claws that cannot be harmed by creamy filling and Pie will fall. But the Robot Devil will be beaten by Thor, because Thor is freaking cool. But the damage will be done and the Duct Tape holding the Universe together will begin to tear apart. The Powers That Sometimes Be will then decide that "now is a really good time to take that vacation they've always wanted" and "we never really liked reality anyways". They will go to New Jersey and be beaten to death by fundamentalists because they (the fundamentalists) promote peace and love. Thor will kill the fundamentalists too (we told you Thor was cool). Chaos and Thor will go back to his place for a couple of beers. Then, when all hope is lost, the Box shall wake. It was all a dream, a cheap ploy by the networks for ratings. Those bastards. Definitely Jumped the Shark. See if we'll ever watch that show again. Thus ends the notes that make up the one thousand, one hundred eleventh and one third entry of Chaos.

A break from the readings of chaos for some weird thoughts: Perception defines reality, but perception lies. You sit on a pin and you immediately jump from the pain, but science shows that isn't what really happens: you jump as a reflex and afterwords your brain rationalizes that you jumped because of the pin prick. There's another example using the wave/particle duality of light that I won't get into here, but trust me, it's true. Change information in the present, you can physically change the past. Now throw in a few more odd facts: your thoughts are merely chemical and electrical reactions in your brain; the smallest change in the environment can lead to dramatic changes over time (the butterfly beating its wings in New York can cause a tornado in Hong Kong); and in theory, think the right thoughts, cause the right chain reaction, alter perception, fill in the blank... We know this theory is probably wrong in several places, but that's because you bastards changed time to make it wrong. We'll get you for that.

Random thoughts from 12:18 AM. Someone out there has to create a Tom Cruise versus Oprah video game. You have to pilot Tom Cruise through 15 levels of doom to battle Oprah to the death using his lightning powers and amazing couch jumping skills (and a laugh that makes all bad guys on the screen heads explode). Each boss is some guy sitting on a chair, then Oprah's voice booms out, "Audience, look under your chairs for a Scorpion Death Battle Suit!" And the boss fight begins... Someone out there needs to make this game. I'm serious. I'll give you five bucks and even buy TWO copies. One for me and one for Tom Cruise. I want to force feed it to him 'till he chokes.

Since there appears to be no Chaos left at Webmasters, the we have become I. This will make it much easier to convey the thoughts of Chaos. I need to talk to everyone that isn't here about shooting fish in a barrel. First, it is not as easy as everyone makes it out to be. The surface of the water angles the light so that if you aim directly at the fish, you'll miss entirely. Stick the end of the gun in the water and use that to shoot the fish. But be careful! Most barrels are made out of wood which means your shot will create a large hole. The water will begin leaking out and that fish you're trying to shoot will now be moving like a motherf*cker. Odds are the water will drain out before you can line up a second shot. Next up, a barrel of monkeys. It is not fun. Picture 5 to 10 monkeys in a really closed space. Imagine the noise. Do you think you're going to be able to fall asleep with those monkeys howling all night long? And the smell from the monkey poo won't help things either. Worse still, sooner or later the monkeys are going to start doing the monkey with each other (if you know what I mean). You thought monkey poo was bad, imagine monkey spunk. So listen everyone, barrels are bad in any situation. Remember "Treasure Island"? How does the kid find out about the pirates? He falls into a barrel of apples. If he hadn't, the pirates would have killed him and the crew and the story would have been a whole lot shorter. Then you wouldn't have had to write that four page book report in fith grade. Barrels are deceptive bastards.

Someone once told me that they'd love to see what goes on in my head. No, you don't. Trust me. Ten minutes ago I was walking along and this car comes out of nowhere at maybe 35 mph through the cross-walk I'd just been through. 35 mph in a busy cross-walk without any sign of slowing down. What if he hit someone... why, they'd probably roll right over the bumper of that nice, shiny car. Their elbow could go right through that windshield, probably rip their arm right off if it did. The poor bastard would be out cold in a pool blood spurting out from a lacerated stump where their arm used to be, all because some stupid SOB couldn't slow down. And now I can't help but think: what if they went under the car instead...

Wait. Barrels are good for Niagara Falls right?

So I was tourmenting small children in the name of some sick and twisted Gods that I just made up when a light goes off in my head: I needed to do my laundry. I go down to wash my clothes and there's this guy taking his clothes out of the washing machine. He takes a pile of clothes from washing machine #1 and puts them in a dryer. He takes a second pile of clothes from washing machine #2 and puts them in a second dryer. Then he goes back to the first dryer, pulls out a single shirt and puts it in the LAST REMAINING DRYER in the room. What choice did I have? I took out the single shirt and stuffed the stupid bastard into the dryer instead.

No matter how hard I try... No matter who gets involved... No matter what angle I look at the problem from... There is simply no space in my room for a waffle iron.

No matter where you go.... there you are.