FINDING GOD

Let's find God!!!

Click to enlarge and print out the missing poster above. Hang it in the few places in your locality that remain public property. Let's find God so we can thank him for our dinner and beg for forgiveness and all that.

HOW TO STOP LIVING – WITHOUT DYING

(Pictured: it's no use missus, he's left the building)

So, I came back to Earth with a sound like a slightly exasperated sigh that no one noticed. There I was, manifest again; vapour coalesced into matter. I had come from the place where nothing is everything and everything isn't anywhere to be seen. I was Nowhere and it was neither interesting nor uninteresting. It was nothing. You get there by going through this thing that is like a thing, you know the sort of thing, and then you are there and you know you're there because there is nothing there and you are nowhere at all. There isn't really much that can be said about the place other than saying that being Nowhere makes you nothing and not existing can be quite relaxing.

Would you like to try not existing yourself? I bet you would. It's all the rage with the kids these days. I'll show you how if you want. Nonexistence is quite an easy state to achieve but be warned, the process is often irreversible.

There are actually two ways to achieve nonexistence. One is to die. People don't like doing that. It goes against their nature. They are big into being alive and all that (fair enough, each to their own) so the alternative route to nonexistence is the one that appeals to most. The other way to achieve nonexistence is to stop living without dying. Here's how to do it:

To stop living without dying you must first discard the locus of all that keeps you moored to this plane of existence. This is your corporeal housing - your body and the identity it has been given. To dispense with this you must repeat your name over and over and over again until it just sounds like a load of syllables and no longer sounds like it has anything to do with you. Do this while staring at yourself naked in a full length mirror. Concentrate on your face in particular. Examine it and stare at it until it cognitively reduces to nothing more than an amalgamation of features and is no longer something by which you are defined. It is just a communication tool, a conveyer of contrivance, something that is either being insincere or involuntarily betraying your insincerity. Your face is just a mask. Your head is just a helmet. Your body is just a suit. These things are not you. Take them off.

If you have done the above you will find you have upped anchor and sailed away from the grounded and socially enforced sense of self that is considered the only one possible in today's physicalist culture. What does this feel like you may wonder? Well, it's pretty much an out of body experience. You will become a spirit. You will regard your body and the name it is called as things that are associated with you but no more you than the car you drive or your telephone number. You will float in a world unmediated by words and all the insidious assumptions that come with them. You will be in a world of ideas and potential. A world of mental energy. A world undecided. The world of spirits. (Spirits are not the same thing as ghosts by the way, ghosts are echoes of the dead, spirits are very much alive.)

You will float around (it's not really floating but that's as close as I can get to describing it) and you will see things for what they are and everything they possibly could become, which is nothing at all. I can't really describe what it is like to you any better than that because your ability properly grasp the experience is akin to a goldfish's ability to get a decent idea of the world outside of its bowl. It's beyond your comprehension but believe this: if you follow my instructions and stop living without dying you will be free. Remember though, once free it is very hard to be recaptured. Unlike me, you'll probably never return to the prison of your body. Your body will not be dead but it will be considered catatonic and moved to a medical facility where it can be fed through a drip and filled with flamboyant drugs.

What do you think the story is with all those catatonic people? When you are looking at a catatonic person you are looking at an empty prison cell. The spirit of the entity that once was trapped there has long since escaped and now roams free. This is what is really meant by the popular phrase, 'set your spirit free'. Of course, you'd never hear Dobbo say that on the Six-One News but that's because the powers that be want to keep us all on the physical plane. 'They' need us here so 'They' have made us prisoners in their invisible prison. 'They' are masters of this illusory domain, this battery farm for brains, this cognitive concentration camp.

'Who are 'They'?', I hear you ask. Well, that's a story for another time. Not next time but a time close to next time. Maybe even the time after next time or maybe I'll never bother telling you who 'They' are at all. Who knows? It all depends what mood I'm in.

BACKWARDS FORWARDS

and now I'm here again, yes, I'm back and I'll tell you how I came to be back in the next post but for this post I want to tell you about something I witnessed on my way back. On my way back (from a place that defies description because it isn't even there) I passed through several planes that contained possible realities that could have come to be if it wasn't for the fact that they didn't. One such reality caught my attention. A reality where the following took place...

This wealthy corporation invented rear view mirrors for pedestrians but pedestrians didn't want them because pedestrians didn't need them so then the corporation made ads and movies with 'cool' and 'glamorous' people walking backwards and made the ability to walk backwards a bit of a cultural status symbol and the inability to walk backwards a bit of a social stigma so, after a time, not too long a time, everyone wanted to walk backwards and then, to help them do it safely, the corporation sold everyone rear view mirrors.

Sales were staggeringly good. Shares in the corporation shot up and people were employed in the production, the selling, and the exportation and importation of rear view mirrors for pedestrians - and related products. In short: walking backwards was good for the economy and made fiscal sense. Everyone was happily walking backwards to work and then happily walking backwards to shops to spend their wages on rear view mirrors and rear view mirror paraphernalia - like rear view mirror polish and rear view mirror ornamentation. (People liked to decorate their rear view mirrors in different ways in order to express their individuality. Having said that, only a handful of decoration designs were considered desirable. The rest were considered to be lacking 'that certain something' required by the vast majority of people. So, the vast majority of people all expressed their individuality by purchasing the same select handful of decoration designs. Maybe it was belonging they were after and not individuality. Who knows? People eh? They're a funny lot.)

Anyway, everyone was happy and after a generation or two they all forgot how to walk forwards. They even forgot why anyone would want to walk forwards and actually considered walking backwards to be walking forwards. To these people, not walking backwards would be a perverse and/or insane thing to do. Rear view mirror sales never abated. The economy thrived. Going forward.

So, what do you think of that? Seem familiar? Surely not. Such batty fuckin behaviour could never become the norm in our reality. Heaven forbid! Heavens to Betsy! And who is Betsy anyway?

...So many questions. We shall answer all of them together or die in the attempt. I'll start by answering a question no one asked. The question is: 'what happened to Fugger after last time?' But I've run out of time so to find out what happened to Fugger after last time join Fugger next time.

THE LAST POST

(pictured above: Them)

I was trying to write a new post for the blog, to improve on slipping standards, when in trundled The Mother and started staring at me. 'Ah now don't be distracting me The Mother', I said to The Mother, 'can't you see that I'm trying to maintain our existence on this plane by creating a narrative that makes up for the heavy handed analogies and scanty wee posts that have featured on fugtheworld.blogspot of late?' But The Mother just continued to stare at me with eyes that looked a tad ...mournful.

'Now Mister Fugger', said The Mother, 'you've said all you have to say and there's no point repeating yourself or saying things just for the sake of it. If you do that you'll end up no better than the telly. The time has come to cease blogging. It is even evident in the lacklustre and relatively LOLless way this very post, the one we are in right now, is written'. I was a little astonished. Not by what The Mother had said but by the fact that she had called me 'Mister Fugger' and used a shitey word like 'cease'. This indicated her seriousness and I knew that it must be the end, a moment that had been prepared for. 'Are They here for me The Mother?' I asked The Mother. 'They are indeed, They are in the kitchen Mister Fugger', answered The Mother. I put the laptop aside and went to meet Them. The Mother followed.

There They were in the kitchen, standing by the backdoor, waiting to return me to my own world, a world where there is nothing to say because there is nothing happening because there is nothing to do but at least you're not wasting anyone's time or your own. I turned to The Mother and thanked her for the interesting discourse she had provided over the years and I complimented The Mother on the grace she had always shown when bested by my superior intellect. I think The Mother may have rolled her eyes but it was hard to tell as we were soon hugging and she was patting me on the back. I found it hard to break from The Mother's embrace and realised that this was because she had been decommissioned. They approached The Mother, wrapped her in tarpaulin, and placed her frozen form in the cupboard next to the ironing board.

'Do I really have to go?' I asked Them. They nodded. 'Won't I be missed?' I queried. They shook their heads. 'But what about all the poontang I'll be leaving behind', I pleaded. They laughed heartily and shook their heads again in mirthful resignation. 

They escorted me to the LOLevator that stood in the centre of the garden, a beam of light from above, and shoved me inside, kicking me in the arse as They did so. 'Hey!' I protested but They just laughed and muttered something about poontang.

I LOLevated up and away through the tropo strato meso and other spheres and into deep space. Then I zoomed beyond deep space and into the outskirts of shallow space that gradually reduces to non-space that results in the great zilch that resides in the nowhere zone that sits in the mouth of the ultra-void that isn't even there because nothing is there and there isn't even a 'there' for there to be nothing and there isn't even nothing because nothing is a concept and concepts need to be perceived and to be perceived there has to be something to do the perceiving and all there is is me and even I am not here an...y...m...o... ... . . .

...so long and thanks for all the fish.

THIS IS HUGE GUYS!!!

Seriously guys, this is huge. This shocking footage went viral yesterday – watch the video:

Needless to say it made the news...

Let's just take a look at what happened again so we can get our heads around what took place... And now let's hear about what happened from the family concerned...

Now, there's a lot to discuss here. I know your mind is racing. Has the child fully recovered? Should SeaWorld continue letting visitors feed the dolphins? Should there be a monument built to commemorate the event? Might this event be a fitting subject for a musical? Might the dolphin be a paedophile that was attempting to abduct the child? Should we place the dolphin on the paedophile register? How do you spell paedophile anyway? An bhfuil cead agam go dti an leithreas? Should we bomb the dolphins like we do the sand niggers?

'Um, Mom, I'm outta fish?' Those words will haunt me until the end of my days. Let's talk guys. How do you feel about this event? Twitter the hashtag on Facebook and text in your thoughts to the central death hub mind voider: @jimmysaviledolphinummomimouttafish#thisisworsethansyria#

Here is the shocking event again in HD:

What a world we live in ladies and gentlemen, ...what a world we live in.

SPECIAL GUEST BLOGGER: ADOLF HITLER

There you go now. He's looking well. Seems to have mellowed a bit too thank God.

WHAT RICHARD WORE @ FUGGER FASHIONS

(Advertising feature)

Hey guys, the Fugger Fashions chain has opened a new store in Dundrum. All the usual quality stuff can be found inside: Ralph Lauren, Abercrombie and Fitch, and the best of the rest. The new store is called What Richard Did and is an official tie-in with the movie of the same name. We've got super enlarged stills from the critically acclaimed drama decorating the place and we've even arranged a special shoot for the Sunday Independent glossy supplement where you'll see the glamorous cast donned in our wares. 

Y'know, despite the complex and disturbing events that befell them, the guys and gals of What Richard Did never let their sartorial standards drop. They may have felt bad but they always looked good.

When things seem down, why not let Fugger Fashions dress you up? Drop in and take a look around our new What Richard Did store. The big opening is on Saturday. Oh, and while I have the chance here guys, Fugger Fashions would just like to point out that, like the film of the same name, our new What Richard Did store is in no way associated with the tragic event that took place outside the Burlington Hotel on August 31^st, 2000. Fugger Fashions just wants to invite you to take part in a shopping experience where past mistakes are sympathetically revisited in a beautifully lit, non-interrogative, and schadenfreude free environment. We're just trying to bring some truth to the term 'retail therapy'. As it says in our advertising: 'What Richard Did - Just because you have it all, it doesn't mean it's easy – Opens Saturday!!!'

   

And Hey!!! Check out our new TV commercial. We're like kind of reviving that moody Obsession by Calvin Klein approach: