Especially when it's waving a razor-sharp hunting knife in your eyes

I've currently got the loose strands of a transcendence storm clogging my drain.
One of these days I'll work up the courage to put my fingers in there and clean it up, but this ain't my first rodeo; I know transcendence to be a sticky mistress and I like feeling clean still yet.
Until then I'll continue to poke at it with my big toe each time I take a shower and marvel as my extended metaphors take on a disgusting life of their own.

.....Sexually.

I'm not actually sure what that means.

So, cue Ghostface Killah! Obviously!


What.

WHAT WHAT Would you like to talk about. Pocketwatches? West Sardinia. Born and raised. Flautists? Astronomical. Emulsifier. Efflusive. Not a real word but by god it ought to be.

There's no drug out there for my people. I've been forced to manufacture my own, out of sheer willpower, within my own body, like a Bene Gesserit witch. Manipulating on a molecular level, every cell of mine a little factory. My endoplasmic reticulum is my own private drug mule, smuggling steroids NO NOT THOSE STEROIDS I'm talking about St Anthony's Fire, my god man, don't you listen?

In a legitimate, non-non-sequitur, have you ever smelled metal that's been in contact with a lot of human skin? WHY does it smell that way. It's startlingly unique. When was the last time you smelled a coin.
Oh don't give me that old toss about germs. You're surrounded by germs, cantgetridofthem, go ahead, put that penny in your mouth. What's it going to do, kill you? You've put worse things in there. When you were a kid, I mean. Didn't you? Or have you gone through life without investigating something with ALL. FIVE. SENSES.

All twenty! Depending on which dimensional theory you've Wikipedia'd in the last few hoursdays. Depending on how many girls you want to impress - (NOTE: Girls are not impressed by dimensional theory. The only ones who would be impressed by dimensional theory are much, much more well versed in dimensional theory than you ever will be, you hulking oaf.)

(No, No, Wait, I take that back why were those all in capitals. Well, capitalized. Anyway, I take that back that last bit, those aren't the only girls. There are always truly dumb ones who will be impressed just because you'll appear to be discussing a highly intellectual topic that is unknown to them. These girls are not worth the effort. Boys too, probably. Boys will probably be more threatened by your pretend showoffitude than girls, that's their nature. Their purpose. Anyway. Awful people, all of them. Avoid them at all costs.)

AFTER ALL, WHAT KIND OF PERSON WOULD BASE WILLINGNESS TO SLEEP WITH SOMEONE EXCLUSIVELY ON PERCEIVED EXPRESSION OF INTELLIGENCE?

And do you know which clubs they frequent?

We were talking about metal. Metallic.

People keep saying blood is metallic, or at least leaves a metallic taste in your mouth.
I'm so tired of tropes, of terrible infinite loops of oheveryoneknowsthisaboutthis that were generated in some meaningless etch of history decades ago.
Lemmings don't actually jump off cliffs, salt isn't really bad for you, etcetcetc.

And you can never correct people, you know, lest you be forever known as Dirk Funbuster, Effortless Prick and Ruiner of Parties.

That sounds like a bitter sentence, like this is some personal slight I've been reliving recently, when in fact I mostly keep quiet when I hear people say facts. Rest assured this is not some facebook status lashout at an anonymous stranger (who? oh just some oxymoron).

Pedantic: "of or like a pedant". That is, "a person who is excessively concerned with formalism and precision, or who makes a show of his or her learning."

Bastards, all of them.

Is this blog rapidly devolving into my usual strand of invective-laced denouncements of the human race?
YES. It's what you've paid for. You should judge a person by how many people they think are bastards. I'm willing to bet it has a binomial distribution. That is, if you plotted the human race according to EACH SUBJECTS OPINION of the BASTARDS-TO-HUMANS RATIO, then when you went to change the song the mental image would completely fall apart and you'd be unable to continue!

Didn't see that one coming, did you?! Look, it's much much simpler if you'll just, look, give me your cocktail napkin. And a pen. THIS is a histogram. No, it doesn't matter what it means, just listen to what I tell you. Think this way, I'm coaching you, god damn it.
WHY?
Because once I've fried your brain with lightning, I'm going to scoop it out through your nose like a fucking Egyptian priest, plop it in a jar with a thousand desiccant packets left over from all the food and fur coats and vacuum cleaners they ship and when it's finally dry I WILL GRIND IT INTO A POWDER AND INJECT IT RIGHT INTO MY GODDAMN EYES.

I WILL TURN YOU INTO DRUGS, YOU WALKING CROPS. I WILL HARVEST YOU.

....I'm sorry, that was out of line. Anyway, look at this graph. If you think everyone's a bastard, you're probably a bastard yourself. If you think very few people are bastards, you probably aren't an interesting person yourself.

This is a meaningless distribution. Everyone thinks some people are bastards some of the time. Abraham Lincoln said that, I believe, and look how HE ended up thank you very much.

People have always enjoyed vicarity. Vicariousness. "Substitution". Hide behind someone else, they will live the life you are too afraid of living and you will view their triumphs and be jealous, and you will not view their miserable failures because they will be acutely aware that this vicariousness is how they make their living and they've got to sell it, by god, or their lives aren't worth anything.

If I ever get -

Scratch that.

WHEN I get my own society to command, we're going to be Reverse Spartans.

When every lad comes of age (ladies shall be exempt from this. you know how you had to go to a separate room for sex ed? I still don't know what they told you in there, and I'd love it if you believed that they told us some pretty remarkable, secret things that you don't know about. Oh sure, guys will tell you about the dick video. They'll fight among themselves for the right to disclose penis secrets to you AND LET ME TELL YOU THIS IS ALL AN ACT. You have no idea about tertiary sex organs. No idea at all.)

ANYWAY, the test. The test to be recognized as a man, nay, as a human being (look, alright, feminists, you'll get your own test or something, I'll work it out later just shut up for now, it'll all be equal in the end) starts in the same manner as the Spartans, as the Starship Troopers, as the Army Rangers.

Every to-be-determined-age male will be abandoned - naked! - miles away from civilization, off in the wilderness or maybe a foreign country or just a parking lot a ways out of downtown, who knows.

The point is, if they can somehow find their bearings, cobble together some survival gear, and prove their mastery over nature that is their birthright as dominant life forces of the universe

and if they use this unleashed potential to make their way back into our civilization

WE'LL FUCKING SHOOT THE BASTARDS.

UNIMAGINATIVE, UNGRATEFUL FUCKERS. WE'VE GIVEN YOU THE TOOLS YOU NEED TO START YOUR OWN SOCIETY. YOU'RE THE ALL-POWERFUL APOTHEOSIS OF OUR IDEALS, AND YOU CAME BACK HERE??

We were counting on you, you shitfuck! We're desperate for something, anything new! We were going to let you loose and leave you alone for a few decades, and then once you'd built something innovative and exciting out of the wilderness we were going to go and steal it from you for ourselves.

How do you think we've managed to live this long?