Category: Religion

I will not rest until this world is destroyed

If you think the Earth is flat, you’re a fucking moron.

If you believe in the Mandela Effect, you’re a fucking moron.

If you think the Earth is only 6,000 years old, you’re a fucking moron.

If you believe in God, you’re a fucking moron.

Get me the fuck off this planet, I’m surrounded by fucking morons.

Fuck you all.

Where do these things come from?


Every morning I go upstairs to get breakfast (my house is upside down), and I find a tortoiseshell butterfly desperately trying to get out of the window.

I free the creatures, but there’s a new one every morning. I have no idea where they come from.

Perhaps it’s an omen.

100,000 wasted lives

Force fed lies,
Brainwashed children;
Mobilising silent armies.
Fill the void
With slick deception;
Shut their minds and damn their souls.

Claim your holy book is nothing but the truth
You're slowly sewing shut their eyes,
And if they question you, you'll punish them for peeling
Back the layers of your lies

Indoctrinate them so they'll
Never question you and
You can carry on controlling
Building up your armies,
Gathering your strength
And lying to the fucking world.

They've built temples founded on broken faith.
Rise, fight them, blinded by years of hate.
Stand, reclaim what was taken from you.
Eyes open, all they said was untrue.

Cut through their lies,
Open your eyes, find the truth.
Smash the temples,
Cast them down with the proof.

Moulded firm,
Grown up ignorant;
The youth in turn replace the generals.
Circles closed,
Torches passed on;
Hundred thousand wasted lives.

Closed your mind for so long lies become the truth,
Why can nobody see your proof?
Scientists are all wrong! Why would preachers lie
About the book that holds the truth?

Wake up, shut your book
Of fucking lies and find the
Answers to the questions
For so long denied.
There's no conspiracy,
There's no satanic plan,
So smash the circle break out now.

They've built temples founded on broken faith.
Rise, fight them, blinded by years of hate.
Stand, reclaim what was taken from you.
Eyes open, all they said was untrue.

Cut through their lies,
Open your eyes, find the truth.
Smash the temples,
Cast them down with the proof.

Faith in Chaos

This number is one of…
This number is the most sublime

Sublime proof –
If that is
The right word to use in this context –
Perhaps ‘proof’ is not the right word.
But when I see patterns defined
By chaos… It is divine.

This sinking ship will not be abandoned

Hi J.C. I know it’s been a while.
I mean, how long has it been since we talked?
Eight, nine years maybe?

Look, I know what you’re thinking, OK, so let me set you straight.
I’m not here for forgiveness.
I don’t care about redemption.
Like, seriously, not interested, so don’t even try it, OK?
I don’t care that you were never there for me when things took a dive.
In fact, I’m GLAD you were never there.
No, hear me out on this J.C…

You taught me how to fend for myself.
You abandoned me to the wolves, and I came out alive.
Not unscathed, sure, but stronger. 
Definitely stronger.

I know all your buddies tell me that I should go back to you.
Like you can fix my problems the way you fixed theirs.
I mean, well done for fixing them too I guess…
But like you, they all miss the point.

I know I’m a sinner (according to some of your pals we all are, right?)
I know I’ve messed up more than a few times.
Not proud of it.
Still hurts…
No, don’t start on the redemption shit, OK?
I told you.
Not interested.

I cling to my sin because it defines me.

Every mistake I’ve made, every step I’ve strayed
From your cleanly laid out path
Defines me.

Every promise broken, every lie I’ve spoken
To further personal gain
It defines me

Every doctrine challenged, all your dogma balanced
With heavy scepticism and critical thinking;
That is what defines me.

Take that away and I’m nothing. 
Cleanse me of my sins and I become a shell of a man
With nothing to regret,
Nothing to learn from
And no more choices to make.

The only redemption I need is that which is delivered by my own hands.
Learning, and growing, and adapting, and failing, 
But paying credence at all times to that oft-repeated mantra:
Was mich nicht umbringt, macht mich stärker.

I’m taking on water.
I have been for years.
I’m bailing it out as fast as I can,
And I don’t need you to save me.

Sometimes I think I’m taking on water faster than I can bail it out,
But I’m still above the waterline.

This sinking ship will not be abandoned.

Brick by brick I’ll try to put them each back in their place.

So the move is finally over and all of the boxes have been emptied. The house is still a mess, but it’s a manageable one. Got a new washing machine and a new fridge. Exciting, I know. But here’s where my bad luck comes into play again.

The washing machine went in all right and worked and started washing clothes. Great! I mean, that’s all it needs to do, right? So off I go upstairs to drink coffee and listen to Taalam Acey while putting old Spectrum games into a box on the shelf. Nothing to worry about, right?

Well done if you’re already ahead of me here. The washing machine had pissed water all over the goddess-damned floor. I shouldn’t be surprised though really, should I? After all, the washing machine is something I’ve bought, and when does anything I ever buy turn out to be worth the money I’ve spent on it? Never mind, I think, I’ll just mop up the water, and call the guy out tomorrow. Let’s at least get my clothes out so I can hang them to dry. I said, “let’s at least get my clothes out so I can hang them to dry.” Except I can’t, because the sodding door won’t open. But why would it? I mean, all it needs to do is open when I want it to. I mean, that’s its one job in life. And according to Karl’s Law, “anything Karl spends money on will not work as intended.” So the machine has eaten my clothes and refuses to give them back.

Sigh. At least the fridge works. That’s something I guess.

Oh and at least I have half a million baby spiders crawling through my hallway after hatching from a hidden egg-sac in the middle of the night. I mean, AWESOME, right? THE MIRACLE OF LIFE. Still, as I was sucking them up with the vacuum cleaner, I felt a surge of power. I had control over these little creatures’ lives. I could exterminate them on a whim, or suck them up and empty them into the bin. Or, if I was feeling generous, let them continue to live in my hall way. I won’t lie, I felt powerful. God-like. I wonder if this is how Eris feels as she continually fucks with my life.

Audentes fortuna iuvat. Fortune may favour the brave, but the difference between Tyche and Eris is that Tyche wasn’t utterly insane. It seems even when there are no women in my life, there’s still a woman messing my life up.