Thats Right Folks!! Another Rant!!

[NuBBiN]

wait..... paul..... I was very high when I just read your post.....and It never ocurred to me that this was a rant, and not a true story with a point...so i read it three times in a row..hell i almost got out a pen and paper to try and make notes so I could figure out what the hell you were talking about. But then i realized, "Hey NuBs...You could make rants twice as spicey as the next cajun rockstar." So then I turned to my mom who was reading over my shoulder in her undergarments like she always does late at night and I said to her "Mom, why dont the letters on my keyboard go in alphabetical order?" and she replied with a silly grin "Son, if the keys on the original typewriters were in alphabetical order, too many vowels would be located too close to each other which would jam the typewriting mechanism constantly, due to the fragile method used to make typewriters work, therefor the creator of this newfangled writing machine decided to space the vowels apart as much as possible (except for I O and U for obviouse reasons) and then based all other letters (mostly consonants) around those preset vowels. Hence when the computer was created, not wanting to confuse it's users, the creators based their keyboard lineup to be equal to that of the olden day typewriters!...." Being stoned, I obviousely turned back to the computer screen, embarrassed at the fact that my mother would always sass about like that infront of my cyber friends....or should I say fiends?..... Speaking of fiends, who decided to make that the opposite of friends?...why such similar words with such opposite meanings?...what next? Ketchup and ketchturd? or mustard and mustketch?.....I guess what im really trying to say here is that as a society wehave come too far in our advances in civilization, and we must find the nearest exit, pull off, maybe hit a diner for a boosting cup of coffee, then head back the opposite direction unntil we use fire for our main source of light instead of that bullshit "electricity"...tell me people..have YOU ever seen this electricity?.... sure,you've seen some blue lights sass about when you stick keys ini sockets, but, how do we know we're actually getting this matter which we pay for monthly called "electricity"?..... How do we know that lightbulbs actually give off light...?....what if they just sucked up darkness with a large vacuum?.....how do we know that we're talking to our friends and family on the phone?...we can't see them...how can we fully trust these little cordless boxes we put up to our ears can actually connect us with someone whos across the continent with their own cordless box up to their ear?..isn't that a little outrageous?...I feel that a more reasonable explanation is that thes boxes were built by the government to ap into our central nervous systems and allow us to psychically communicate with others who have been tapped into... Wouldn't being psychic explain things a lot better than just 'electiricity" and invisible waves and cordless boxes allowing convenient 20 cent phone calls every minute during the weekends and all that hocus pocus?.....well I dont want to bore you with silly theories of mine, so back to the alphabet....why is it called the alphabet?...why couldnt it be the betabet, or zetabet, or omegabet?..or what if all of these different bets truly exist, and each dimention is home to one of these bets..a layer containing one of these jewels of knowledge..this powerful common understanding of patterns created by these different dimentional bets used to tap in to other's thoughts,ideas,experiences etc.....tell me...how could you ever know about airplanes, if the aplhabet was never around when they were invented?....there would be no way to describe these things..let alone invent these flying machines in the first place, which would have taken exstensive knowledge in the field of aviation,which wouln't exist due to the innability to pass on important aviation informaton because no such thing as an alpha,beta,or zeta bet existed to transform thought to patterns on paper and then be recognized by another who in turn experienced this same thought from another thanks to this "middle man", this "translator" this "holder of knowledge"..... did you know that alexandria in egypt (named after alexander the great no doubt) was one of the epicenters of knowledge in the early centuries..this city (only one of several cities named alexandria by the famed conqueror) was one of the irst places to conatin a library...one of a kind prints, books, notes, writings existed in vast chambers of knowledge, our first libraries.....Once, during an attack from neighboring enemies, alexandria's library cought fire, destroying a large quantity of original and one of a kind text's....pushing world progress back by an aproximate millenium. imagine..if that libray hadn't burned down.......columbus would have been a space explorer most likely off discovering new planets instead instead of a sea fairing crusader who discovered the americas!.... what a tremendousely wonderful thought!...or it would be like computers being invented well around the roman empires reign....."Welcome CeaserPiMP69...You've got mail!"....we can only imagine what life would have been like if that one single chamber of maybe only 5,000 to 10,000 texts is what set the world back a whole millenia.....how entriguing!...... my my my!...look at the time!...I'll leave you with one last thought. What if time was never invented....not just that, the whole ability to understand,comprehend or even consider something so dimentional as time weren't to exist either. Where would we be?....could timie have been the leading factor in holding man back?..what if time were like newtons original theories?...and disproved later on int he futre like einstein did to newtons theories....what if there's something better than time.....what if it not only tells time, but allows man to experience time first hand...nobody seems to be able to experience time besides the simple weak sense of time....but what if we had tiemponauts...explorers of time...what if time were a whole seperatespacial plain than the one we our so used to in our universe..what if time is the gateway to the discovery of new dimentions...I say we embark on a crusade to copywrite time..then whenever someone ays what time it is we cna sue them..we'd be filthy rich..not billgates filthy rich..because thats impossible..but semi bill gates filthy rich....what if every italian who worked in the funiture, realestate, or insurance business relly wee a mobster?....what if all mobsters were really MoBStarZ...(the A in star is supposed to be a star)..then what would happen? would they do dances before they killed people?..would they dress up in bell bottoms, afros, and sparkling sunglasses complimented with 70's roller skates? Would they still be named guito?tony?windy?flyin? speakin of flyin...paul..I could have sworn your last post was truly a story..I still havent decided yet as to whether or not I want to go find a pen and paper and try to play detective and solve the mystery of your post. Maybe Ill drink alcohol and things will become clear....if only time werent holding me back from exploring your post from a closer point of view....oh well....christmas is near...farewell

[namron_420s]

qwerty


i too read it 8 times trying to figure it out....excellent rant my friend..EXCELLENT!!

[Paul Jamtgaard]

namron & NuBBiN

Talk about backin your dump truck up to the coal chute.
Lotta info to decipher (you should be ashamed of
yourself for forcing an old man to use his grey cells
in such a strenuous manner). Lets see... Alphabet,
the first two letters of the Greek alphabet are Alpha
and Beta. We use a lot of Old Greek words as roots in
the English Language adding Roman words as roots with
a smattering of Germanic, Celtic, Saxon and so on.
Spanish and French or what they consider Romance
Languages are rooted the same way but stress
pronuciation is applied differantly (this is just
general of course and with a little thought on your
part you could could come up with some questions that
can be answered to a certain extent in books dealing
with history of the English Language). Applying the
alphabet to the keyboard (I think your Mom is right
about the fact of keyboard jamming because of the
vowels scattered all over the keyboard in squential
alpabetical order and with most English words
begining with or having the second letter as a vowel..
..). Anyway I got to lookin at it and counted ten keys
at the top row, nine keys in the second row and seven
keys in the third row with five vowels in the top row
E, Y, U, I, O and A as the first letter in the second
row with constanants that are most used arranged in
the order most convienient to reach. I then made a
keyboard in sequential on a piece of paper and reached
the conclusion that a touch typist would spell my name
Jkgs. Arranged some other orders on a piece of paper
and piddled around with them for awhile.....intresting.
There is Book called "The Code Breakers" If you're
intrested in that sort of stuff (big book, I check it
out of the library every once in awhile).
As to electricity, time, space and alternate
dimensions your guess is as good as mine cause I
thought I've seen some pretty strange things in altered
states of mind or for that matter in unaltered states of
mind, so what the hell, I just lay back, take it all in then
smoke a reasonable quantity of pot and enjoy the replay.
As to my story it does contain a Rant which is about my Plant gettin Ripped Off (which I'll probably bitch about that till
the I die and I'll still be mad about it and come back
lookin for it) and losing that strain of Quality seeds.
You gotta think underground, motorcycles and trustworthy
couriers when your readin the story. By the way Flyin and
Windys last name was Hanson.

Paul J Jamtgaard

[toker2021]

heh

[Stylez1877]

this deserves alot more than heh but im not high enough to rant.

These my friends are the posts that made Seasoned Tokers , well, Seasoned Tokers. Read and learn from it. Study it. become one with it. beaver lick for life

[TheHempress]

These my friends are the posts that made Seasoned Tokers , well, Seasoned Tokers. Read and learn from it. Study it. become one with it. beaver lick for life

word. I'll take some biskits, too.

[m0ric]

In A Briar Patch

[BabyToker]

What this dude entered into this thread is exactly the type of thing I write in my high journal when I'm really fucked up. Damn. I thought I was the only person who wrote stuff like this.

[Lexus_Rolla]

Have you guys heard of paragraphs? Holy crap.

[TheBlueBeast]

Originally Posted by Lexus_Rolla

Have you guys heard of paragraphs? Holy crap.

When it's a rant most people don't use paragraphs. But I agree, it strains the eyes.

[debauch]

lots of vetran smokers here. i havent read stuff by u guys before, and i find that strange cause i read this forum multiple times a day.

[General Blaze]

Originally Posted by debauch

lots of vetran smokers here. i havent read stuff by u guys before, and i find that strange cause i read this forum multiple times a day.

because this was posted in july of 02,

Back in the golden days.

[debauch]

Originally Posted by General Blaze

because this was posted in july of 02,

Back in the golden days.

i probably wouldnt have noticed, i was very high this morning.

[xXMelkorXx]

hey im from ark. where do u live we should meet up

[GaleForce]

While no statement I'm about to make should be construed as suggesting or recommending that any person commit an illegal act of any kind, you should realize that Mr. Paul J Jamtgaard should get with the program. One of my objectives is to lift our nation from the quicksand of injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Any meaningful analysis of the situation must allow for the fact that his positions are merely a stalking horse. They mask Mr. Jamtgaard's secret intention to lead people towards iniquity and sin. Scapegoatism is the answer, but only if the question was, "What's the moral equivalent of letting Mr. Jamtgaard declare a national emergency, round up everyone who disagrees with him, and put them in concentration camps?" Last summer, I attempted what I knew would be a hopeless task. I tried to convince Mr. Jamtgaard that his warnings will purge the land of every non-misinformed person, gene, idea, and influence in the immediate years ahead. As I expected, Mr. Jamtgaard was totally unconvinced.

Mr. Jamtgaard should not sanctify his depravity. Not now, not ever. I, not being one of the many gormless, satanic bohemians of this world, wonder what would happen if he really did treat anyone who doesn't agree with him to a torrent of vitriol and vilification. There's a spooky thought.

The salient point here is that if Mr. Jamtgaard got his way, he'd be able to anesthetize the human spirit. Brrrr! It sends chills down my spine just thinking about that. He presents one face to the public, a face that tells people what they want to hear. Then, in private, Mr. Jamtgaard devises new schemes to cover up his criminal ineptitude. Because of his obsession with paternalism, Mr. Jamtgaard's sound bites are a load of bunk. I use this delightfully pejorative term, "bunk" -- an alternative from the same page of my criminal-slang lexicon would serve just as well -- because if anything, some reputed -- as opposed to reputable -- members of Mr. Jamtgaard's gang quite adamantly aver that we should be grateful for the precious freedom to be robbed and kicked in the face by such a noble creature as Mr. Jamtgaard. I find it rather astonishing that anyone could believe such a thing, but then again, Mr. Jamtgaard insists that a knowledge of correct diction, even if unused, evinces a superiority that covers cowardice or stupidity. Sorry, Mr. Jamtgaard, but, with apologies to Gershwin, "it ain't necessarily so." Mr. Jamtgaard is not interested in what is true and what is false or in what is good and what is evil. In fact, those distinctions have no meaning to him whatsoever. The only thing that has any meaning to Mr. Jamtgaard is egotism. Why? This can be answered most easily by stating that Mr. Jamtgaard recently stated that he can be trusted to judge the rest of the world from a unique perch of pure wisdom. He said that with a straight face, without even cracking a smile or suppressing a giggle. He said it as if he meant it. That's scary, because we must burn away social illness, exploitation, and human suffering if we are ever to shed the light of truth on the evil that is Mr. Jamtgaard. Yes, this is a bold, audacious, even unprecedented undertaking. Yes, it lacks any realistic guarantee of success. However, it is an undertaking that we must definitely pursue because Mr. Jamtgaard's emotionally biased and expletive-filled shell games push home the point that he flagrantly abuses rules and regulations and then complains vehemently when caught -- and Mr. Jamtgaard knows it.

Ever since Mr. Jamtgaard decided to ridicule the accomplishments of generations of great men and women, his consistent, unvarying line has been that he has the mandate of Heaven to display an irreconcilable hatred toward all nations. Whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to hinder the power of distasteful theologasters like him. Although chimpanzees can be convinced to wear clothing, understand commands, and even ride bicycles (if well paid for their services in bananas), it would be virtually impossible to convince Mr. Jamtgaard that his cringers think that "Mr. Jamtgaard is always being misrepresented and/or persecuted." First off, that's a lousy sentence. If they had written that Mr. Jamtgaard tries to humiliate his opponents rather than win their understanding, then that quote would have had more validity. As it stands, Mr. Jamtgaard occasionally writes letters accusing me and my friends of being lackadaisical xenophobic-types. These letters are typically couched in gutter language (which is doubtless the language in which Mr. Jamtgaard habitually thinks) and serve no purpose other than to convince me that no matter how bad you think his philippics are, I assure you that they are far, far worse than you think.

Mass anxiety is the equivalent of steroids for Mr. Jamtgaard. If we feel helpless, Mr. Jamtgaard is energized and ramps up his efforts to supply the chains that bind the individual to notions of self-loathing and unworthiness. It's our responsibility to treat the disease, not the symptoms. That's the first step in trying to step back and consider the problem of his credos in the larger picture of popular culture imagery, and it's the only way to lead the way to the future, not to the past.

It has long been obvious to attentive observers that Mr. Jamtgaard's hypnopompic insights are complete and total offal. But did you know that ever since he began his quest to give voice, in a totally emotional and non-rational way, to his deep-rooted love of classism, he has been denying with his lips what he has been doing with his hands? He doesn't want you to know that because even his secret agents are afraid that he will keep us hypnotized so we don't improve the lot of humankind one day. I have seen their fear manifested over and over again, and it is further evidence that Mr. Jamtgaard intends to create a new social class. Violent, dirty euphuists, contentious yokels, and inimical knee-biters will be given aristocratic status. The rest of us will be forced into serving as their understrappers. In the course of my work, I regularly come in contact with brutish simpletons, and most of them also feel that it is hardly surprising that Mr. Jamtgaard wants to subject us to the frightful, detestable yapping of doctrinaire worrywarts. After all, this is the same rummy racketeer whose officious prattle informed us that the best way to reduce cognitive dissonance and restore homeostasis to one's psyche is to break the mind and spirit, castrate the character, and kill the career of anyone whose ideas he deems to be addlepated. His eccentricity is surpassed only by his vanity. And Mr. Jamtgaard's vanity is surpassed only by his empty theorizing. (Remember his theory that the federal government should take more and more of our hard-earned money and more and more of our hard-won rights?)

Who is Mr. Jamtgaard to say that his epigrams are Holy Writ? I like to speak of him as "dodgy". That's a reasonable term to use, I suspect, but let's now try to understand it a little better. For starters, many people are shocked when I tell them that the cry of "bigot" is raised mostly by bigots. And I'm shocked that so many people are shocked. You see, I had thought everybody already knew that Mr. Jamtgaard is an inspiration to rude deadheads everywhere. They panegyrize his crusade to spawn a society in which those with the most deviant lifestyle, insidious behavior, or personal failures are given the most by the government and, more importantly, they don't realize that any day now, Mr. Jamtgaard will indulge in a vast orgy of murder to sate his innate blood-lust and his hatred of his betters. Am I being too harsh for writing that? Maybe I am, but that's really the only way you can push a point through to Mr. Jamtgaard. I hereby publicly condemn Mr. Jamtgaard's sadistic, lubricious theories. In doing so, I publicly proclaim that each rung on the ladder of antinomianism is a crisis of some kind. Each crisis supplies an excuse for Mr. Jamtgaard to exhibit a deep disdain for all people who are not witless bourgeoisie. That is the standard process by which the worst types of untoward administrators there are make irrationalism socially acceptable. There are two main flaws with his diatribes: 1) seeing him defile the air and water in the name of profit is a nauseating and disgusting spectacle, and 2) the unalterable law of biology has a corollary that is generally overlooked. Specifically, he may be reasonably cunning with words. However, he is utterly illiberal with everything else.

It is my fundamental belief that Mr. Jamtgaard will probably throw another hissy fit if we don't let him show us a gross miscarriage of common judgment. At least putting up with another Paul J Jamtgaard hissy fit is easier than convincing Mr. Jamtgaard's apple-polishers that Mr. Jamtgaard should be locked up. And here, I maintain, lies a clue to the intellectual vacuum so gapingly apparent in Mr. Jamtgaard's ideologies. It's not necessarily the case that I would much rather help you reflect and reexamine your views on Mr. Jamtgaard than waste my precious time chastising incontinent survivalists. On the contrary, if I seem a bit insecure, it's only because I'm trying to communicate with Mr. Jamtgaard on his own level.

If you were to try to tell Mr. Jamtgaard's lickspittles that his disquisitions are written in a peculiar doublespeak that is hard for the uninitiated to understand, they'd close their eyes and put their hands over their ears. They are, as the psychologists say, in denial. They don't want to hear that by writing this letter, I am surely sticking my head far above the parapet. The big danger is that Mr. Jamtgaard will retaliate against me. He'll most likely try to force me to tear off all my clothes and run naked down the street, although another possibility is that he will probably respond to this letter just like he responds to all criticism. He will put me down as "deceitful" or "feckless". That's his standard answer to everyone who says or writes anything about him except the most fawning praise. The struggle against adversarial ragamuffins must be a struggle against autism, stoicism, and oligarchism, or it is doomed to failure. Any rational argument must acknowledge this. Mr. Jamtgaard's morally questionable tractates, naturally, do not.

Pardon my saying so, but unlike Mr. Jamtgaard, when I make a mistake I'm willing to admit it. Consequently, if -- and I'm bending over backwards to maintain the illusion of "innocent until proven guilty" -- he were not actually responsible for trying to abet ethnic genocide, dictatorships, and foul-mouthed pop psychologists, then I'd stop saying that Mr. Jamtgaard should learn to appreciate what he has instead of feeling so oppressed because he can't do everything he wants, every time he wants to. I don't know whether or not you've ever been physically present at a public demonstration by his encomiasts, but let me tell you, they're pretty mealymouthed. Mr. Jamtgaard has gotten away with so much for so long that he's lost all sense of caution, all sense of limits. If you think about it, only a man without any sense of limits could desire to do exactly the things he accuses anal-retentive rabble-rousers of doing. Let me end this letter by pointing out that the battle to act honorably is now joined on many fronts. We will not waver; we will not tire; we will not falter; and, we will not fail.