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the time has come

created by pingouin

(idea) by pingouin (4.3 y) (print)   ?   (I like it!) Fri Jan 21 2000 at 16:36:50

The time has come for us all to face up to the facts and take the right remedy. We are all of us, black and white, brothers and sisters, pigs; and if we have any sense of cosmic rightness left in our bodies, we owe it to humanity to off ourselves.

You know this. You just don't want to face up to it. But if you need some prodding, just remember a couple of these stools from my stool-box:

  • If you live anywhere in the North American continent, even if you poison nothing, kill nothing, contribute nothing, commune, meditate, you're living on land ripped off from the Indians. You're a pig.
  • If you exhale any breath, it's mostly carbon dioxide, and if you don't think that's a No. 1 boss poison, try putting a plastic bag over your head sometime and see how long you last, pig.
  • If you shit or piss anywhere on Earth you're dumping a load of ureic acid on Mother Earth, and ureic acid is one of the ingredients of friendly old Mr. PolyUrethane. You pig.
  • If your body gives off any heat, it contributes to thermal pollution, which in turn is a basic energy degradation that is killing the universe. Goddamn motherfucking pig.
  • You're reading this on the corpse of a tree, pig. A cow died to make your fucking belt.
Remember: if you're not part of the final solution, you're part of the problem. But don't go offing yourself half-cocked: if you take poison, it goes right into the environment; I won't even talk about guns; and there's enough gunk in the ocean without you adding to it by jumping off a bridge. I recommend hanging, with hemp, NOT NYLON, rope, over a four-foot-deep hole half-filled with active compost. If you must leave a note, write it on bark.

Of course, suicide is the ultimate ego trip. With my Sufi training I have reduced my ego to the size of the Blessed Peanut and cast it into the Lake of Denial. I am powerless to act.

What's your excuse, pig?

-- a "message from the Weather Bureau", by Tony Hendra, from the "Is Nothing Sacred?" January 1972 issue of National Lampoon; this was a parody of some of the "revolutionary" manifestoes of the day by groups like Weatherman (and many, many more)


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