Psionics Is Best

A few thousand years ago an Egyptoid scribe wrote a letter to his son explaining to him, in somewhat entertaining detail, why being a scribe was the best of all occupations of the time. Well, I’m going to give a few examples of why psionics is the best of all psychic things going right now.

1. It allows you to be respectable. You don’t have to run around in badly fitting renaissance faire costumes with a long beard and call yourself Lord Dimwit or Lady Roundbutt. Psionics people look like everyone else, usually a lot better.

2. You don’t have to fit into anyone else’ definition of their “tradition.” No one is going to tell you that X is psionics. Psionics is, quite literally, what we say it is.

3. And this is the best. There is no accountability, none. There are no rules, there are no laws. You are permitted to do anything you are able to do and you are answerable to no one. There is no threat of future punishment in another life. There is no punishment that can be applied to you in this one because if you know what you are doing any attempt at that will become very unpleasant for those foolish enough to try it.

Given the manifold advantages and benefits that psionics affords to the skilled practitioner, it really makes no sense to look to other approaches for guidance. For, with psionics, you can have everything that they can offer with much less work and none of the hassles.

I’m bored!

The weather is unpleasant, not really bad but just uncomfortable enough that we do not want to go travelling tonight.

So I’ve decided to have some good, nasty fun and you all can join me. You will need a radionic box, a photo of yourself and a satellite picture of the US. You will also need a recording of laughter and the video of the funny man waving his stupid feather at a memorial service.

Ok, first set up the equipment with the photo of yourself in the transmittal side and the picture of the US on the receiving end. Take the rate to link what goes on in your mind to the minds of everyone in the country.

Now, play the video of the funny man waving the feather and babbling incoherintly while playing the laugh track in the background and let it burn itself into the subconcious minds of everyone in the country. tee hee hee.

It’s so much fun to be the bad guy.

Tolometh

Overshadowed by the Cthulhu Mythos, there were other gods created in the same period by other pulp authors. Lovecraft often mentioned Clark Ashton Smith in his stores and Tolometh was one of his most charming creations, celebrated in this poem–Tolometh.

In billow-lost Posedonis
I was the black god of the abyss:
My three horns were of similor
Above my double diadem;
My one eye was a moon-bright gem
Found in a monstrous meteor.

Incredible far peoples came,
Called by the thunders of my fame,
And passed before my terraced throne
Where titan pards and lions stood,
As pours a never-lapsing flood
Before the winds of winter blown.

Below my glooming architraves,
One brown eternal file of slaves
Came in from mines of chalcedon,
And camels from the long plateaus
Laid down their sard and peridoz,
Their incense and their cinnamon.

The star-born evil that I brought
Through all the ancient land was wrought:
All women took my yoke of shame;
I reared, through sumless centuries,
The thrones of hell-black wizardries,
The hecatombs of blood and flame.

But now, within my sunken walls,
The slow blind ocean-serpent crawls,
And sea-worms are my ministers,
And wandering fishes pass me now
Or press before mine eyeless brow
As once the thronging worshippers…

And yet, in ways outpassing thought,
Men worship me that know me not.
They work my will. I shall arise
In that last dawn of atom-fire,
To stand upon the planet’s pyre
And cast my shadow on the skies.

Savonarola????

I’ll admit it, I have some very strange friends. Some of them are quite brilliant, but they can still be very, well, odd at times. One of them is an evangelist. You read right. An evangelist.

Now don’t you all go to jumping to conclusions here. It is not necessary to agree with someone in order to like them. All my friends have chosen to be my friend and none of them agree with me all the time. Some have never agreed with me about anything! And I don’t agree with him most of the time but I listen politely and when in Rome I speak Roman. And this fellow is brilliant. He can quote books that I think he and I are the only people who actually own them outside of libraries. And there is no way on this earth I would even try to argue the Bible with him. I’d get my head handed to me.

Besides, he likes my jokes.

Anyway, today he really threw me for a loop. He listed two people he admires, Jonathon Edwards, which makes sense for an evangelist and Girolamo Savonarola. Who does not make sense. I mean, let’s be honest, Savonarola is about two steps higher on the loony scale from William Jennings Bryan (who ran for the Presidency more times than Jesse Jackson and lost every time) as well as becoming national comic relief in the Scopes Trial. If you ever want a real good laugh, read his absurd, overblown “Cross of Gold” speech. The man was a nutcase on the order of Sarah Palin.

But I digress.

Savonarola was the 1492 equivalent of Billy Sunday. He arrived in Florence at the behest of the Medici, who undoubtedly had been out in the sun too long, and he preached up a storm. Well, maybe not a storm but the good people of Florence went nuts and had a huge fire in which they threw paintings and cosmetics and books by Jews (whoops, wrong fire, sorry about that) and all sorts of things they normally would have prized. And this went on for some months and suddenly they came to their senses! It was like a horrible, mental plague had passed and the Bonfire of the Vanities was followed by the Bonfire of Savonarola. The Vanities won! And Savonarola got barbecued.

And my friend admires Savonarola for making the attempt. Uh, failure does not count as virtue and Savonarola did more than just fail. Like Billy Sunday and William Jennings Bryan, the mere fact that he opposed something made it all the more desirable. He only managed to set off a reaction that destroyed anything he could have accomplished.

It is not good to admire would be reformers. They only make a mess of things.