The Scribblings of Saint Fnordius

Your Global Domination status report

2008-05-14T12:23:00.001+02:00

The Gnomes of Zurich have suffered a setback, as their attempts to eliminate the competition with the subprime crisis have backfired.

The Network continues to grow, as they entice more and more to go online and surrender all privacy.

Shangri-La managed to protect their secret base, despite an attack from the Sons of Cthulhu with earthquake machines.

The Society of Assasins is withdrawing and regrouping, as their violent tactics are no longer working.

The Discordians are oddly quiet. What are they planning this round? Could it be that they now control the Democrats in the USA?

And of course, the Bavarian Illuminati are dominating the game, and now have puppets in the Russian, the Chinese and the Italian governments. But keep an eye on Gambia, as they may make a move there whilst Zimbabwe distracts everybody.

(Note: this is all parody. Don't blame me if men in black show up at your door some night. Fnord.)

Life imitates art

2007-05-15T13:29:00.000+02:00

The internet is all abuzz about how Microsoft is now claiming that Free Software infringes upon 235 patents held by Microsoft. One little interesting detail, though, is how they won't way which patents are being infringed, lest the free software developers and FS-friendly lawyers make them irrelevant.

I just can't get past the way this resembles a Monty Python sketch. I can see it now...

JOHN CLEESE: "You've trespassed upon my property!"

GRAHAM CHAPMAN: "I did not."

CLEESE: "You did! You did! You owe me a toll!"

CHAPMAN: "I wasn't aware that I did. Where did I step on your property?"

CLEESE: "...I won't tell you."

CHAPMAN: "What? Why not?"

CLEESE: "If I told you, then you'd find a route that doesn't cross my property. That would ruin my chances of collecting a toll in the future, now, wouldn't it?"

CHAPMAN: "You are a very silly man and I have no intention of paying."

CLEESE: "THERE! You did it again! Now pay up!"

CHAPMAN: "No. Go away."

She says exactly what I've been thinking...

2007-01-11T13:34:00.000+01:00

This is from an interesting article about Second Life, one that sums up my reservations about BDSM and the community of practicioners...

I personally have some reservations about the fascist hierarchy in BDSM, although I'm not saying it's bad, atleast until I learn more. Which I will do; that's my job, after all. But so far, I've talked to several people who are involved in the lifestyle, and it's left me with some concerns.

I'm concerned that the "training" involves more indoctrination than education. I've chatted, asked questions, and, most worrying to me, I've heard almost the same words from several enthusiasts. Some people have a "need" to submit to a more aggressive person. Some have a "need" to dominate and manipulate others. It's a "loving relationship" based on "trust", and so on.

When everyone I ask says the same thing, using practically the same language, my "groupthink detector" starts ringing. There definately does seem to be a basic doctrine to this. That might be OK, but I'm concerned that the doctrine is really an elaborate excuse for sexual bullying: a veneer, craftily painted and worked, concealing a true core of sexual exploitation and opportunism.

- Destiny Wells (read
the original Register article here)

I couldn't have said it better myself. Er. Well, perhaps I could, but I'm too lazy. Destiny writes too many SMS acronyms like "u" and "lol" for my tastes.

It just has to be said.

2006-09-27T10:57:00.000+02:00

George W. Bush is a dishonest, callous coward. I wish I could elaborate, but his mendacity has left me speechless for now.
I will write more once I have reagained self-control.

A fable from the Saint's own hand (and experience)

2006-09-21T16:59:00.000+02:00

Whether it contains a grain of truth or not is for you to decide. I am sending this to you because I have been told you have an open mind.

…

I was relaxing, sipping an espresso in a busy café in Vienna when I saw an angel. This in itself didn’t bother me, as angels often appear to me but only on the edge of my vision, giggling and avoiding me. But this one was different, as she sat next to me n the sofa.

Now, I don’t take any illicit drugs, so I doubt that I was hallucinating. Besides, she smelled of wild lavender and seemed to glow from within. She leaned in close and whispered in my ear:

“God is pissed.”

Doesn’t sound like a typical thing for an angel to say, does it? I looked at her, and she looked back with a smile on her face, but her eyes were deadly serious.

I cleared my throat. “That’s pretty heavy thing to say. What did I do to piss God off?”

“You personally? Nothing. That’s why I’m telling you this. It’s those who claim to do My work that irk Me.”

She paused as I realised just who the angel was. Deep in my soul, I knew I knew Him. Her. Whatever.

“You understand. Good. Now know this. What irks Me the most is that everybody believes these blowhards that once said that they talked to Me when all they wanted was to spread their own message.

“This is my only Message to Creation. Nobody is appointed by My will. I’m not your nanny, and I won’t step in to end the Universe. No Rapture, no Final Battle. Believe in yourself, and stop asking Me or My sons Jesus and Buddha to intercede. We’re not interested.”

“Er,” I said, “you mean ‘you’ as in ‘you humans’, not me personally. I’m an agnostic. I’m not even sure You exist, or are just a figment of my imagination.”

The angel laughed, a tinkling, bell-like laugh (an overused cliché, I know, but I swear I did hear tiny silver bells and a faraway church bell in her laugh). “Cheeky. But I like that. You’re smart enough to learn and follow the laws of nature, and not expect Me to cheat in the game of life for you. And because I like you, I’m going to reveal another secret to you.” She leaned in close, and her auburn locks brushed my shoulder. “There was only one Miracle with a capital M, and that was the Big Bang. It was arranged by twenty-three angels, who divided themselves into five equal groups of five. I was all twenty-three. And so were you.”

With that, she was no longer there. No rustle, no Hollywood effects, she simply left. If I hadn’t written it down as soon as she left, I might discount it as a daydream now.

But I can still feel the spot where she kissed me after telling me her riddle.

He said, She said...

2005-10-05T12:54:00.000+02:00

He said, "You've become as cold as the iron manacles we used last night."

She said, "Come on, just once more? I'll warm them up this time!"

He said, "Warm manacles cannot make up for a cold supper. Or at least use the Lube I bought you...Please."

She said, "Well one of your personalities is giving way, at least! Warm manacles and hot oils - that's my final offer."

He said, "We'll take turns this time."

She said, "You said that before when we did watersports. I'm not falling for that trick again."

He said, "You're the one who started the watersports."

She whined, "But I didn't get my turn!"

He said, "I can't be blamed if you can't hold your beer."

A Story from the Holy Book of Waffles

2005-09-16T13:04:00.000+02:00

One day, as Saint Fnordius was enjoying his waffles with maple syrup, one of the brothers came to him with a troubled look. "I am sorry to intrude, Master," the acolyte said, "but just how did Lady Threesomes come to be known as Our Lady of Maple Flavoured Naughtiness?"

"Sit, my son," the good saint replied, "and you shall hear the tale. I suppose you are old enough." He then cleared away his breakfast utensils whilst the young monk waited. After many hours of washing, reading the news, and otherwise goofing off until that evening, the good saint remembered the poor youth waiting for him and eventually returned.

"The story is this," the Saint said finally, waking the monk. "I have always harbored a longing for maple syrup, but when our homeland was transformed into the Land of Thud I had no more access to that ambrosia. Lady Threesomes offered her services, and now smuggles the sweet nectar past the Sergeant at Arms and the Deacon of Smackdown for me."

"I don’t understand," the monk asked. "How does she get them past those two brothers?" The saint stood up, sighed, and took his rack of syrup phials from the shelf.

"Look closely, kid. Did you never wonder why my syrup bottles are made to be so long and hard, or why they are round on the bottom? Have you not seen this curving form before?"

Upon seeing this, the brother was enlightened.

Quote of the Week

2005-09-09T11:27:00.000+02:00

"Now, for you people who are saying, 'Well, stop pointing fingers at the president ... left-wing ... the media's being too hard.' No. Shut up. No. This is inarguably -- inarguably -- a failure of leadership from the top of the federal government.

"Remember when Bill Clinton went out with Monica Lewinsky? That was inarguably a failure of judgment at the top. Democrats had to come out and risk losing credibility if they did not condemn Bill Clinton for his behavior. I believe Republicans are in the same position right now. And I will say this: Hurricane Katrina is George Bush's Monica Lewinsky. The only difference is this: Tens of thousands of people weren't stranded in Monica Lewinsky's vagina."

Jon Stewart

Thanks to the Daily Kos

She said...

2005-09-09T10:02:00.000+02:00

She said, "Do you remember that one time we ate oysters?"

He said, "Yes, It wasn't all I ate that night."

She said, "You ordered everything off the menu. And then some."

He said, "Some appetites just cant be sated."

She said, "You're disgusting, but I love you."

He said, "I never cared for love. But I lust after you."

She said, "You're breaking my heart. Go take the trash out."

Hello, Sailor!

2005-08-31T08:57:00.000+02:00

And so it came to pass, that the good saint needed to cross a body of water. Thus did he and his acolytes leave the monastary (wherever it was) and they headed for the city of Thud.

After a long and arduous journey of several minutes, they arrived at the port. Percious Mao buttons were no more, and the streets were filled with bureaucratic forms and empty liquor bottles similar to those served on airlines. The caravan stopped, drank some tea provided by Friar Pharmaceutical, and waited.

Presently, a group of drunken sailors arrived, and began accosting the saint and his followers. This irritated the saint mightily, also because all of the liquor bottles had been emptied by Lady Sophinator and he had nothing left to drink. He turned to a drunken sot lying under a pile of Tax Mulching Form 1066 sheets and said to him: "Oh ye who smells like a sea captain, I hereby appoint you Captain Iron Skull, Deacon in charge of the seamen! Go and expel the white semen!"

The ladies giggled, and the men held their hands over thair codpieces, and the good saint decided that he didn't need to cross that stinky body of water anyhow, and simply passed it.

How ECoL got its drugs

2005-08-25T17:45:00.000+02:00

There was once a cabal that ws in dire need of drugs. The Polyfounder (Polyfather, or whatever) was low on Ritalin. Several of the brothers and sisters needed their herbs. Seeds were not being planted, and the Deacon of Smackdown frowned mightily upon the illicit usage of certain pharmaceuticals.

It then came to pass that Eris, She who we also know as the RNG, spoke to Saint Fnordius, saying "Keep ye an eye open for a young Briton, who bears much knowledge of these things. He shall be your new Friar, your Herbalist." The good saint trembled, but that was because some damn fool had left the window open.

Years went by, and the promised Briton never showed up. The Polyfounder lost his patience, and nominated the next person who came in the door, a scraggly bum named Elmo.

Seriously, all welcome Elmo, our new Friar of Pharmaceuticals. Just don't let the Deacon of Smackdown catch you...

Look out, girls!

2005-08-25T09:56:00.000+02:00

I'm such a pervert. I've named Fletchar Patron Saint of Breast Touching in the Erisian Church of Loathing. He now promises to abuse his office, as we expect him to.

Did I err?

Update: I herebly declare Lukifer the Patron Saint of Gift-Giving. The title is richly deserved...

Medic on duty

2005-08-25T08:19:00.000+02:00

By foolishly revealing that he knows of Eris, our beloved crazy bitch, Doctorbus has gotten himself assigned the position of Medic On Duty and Missionary to the Pastafarians. Or whatever.

The Abbey of ECoL

2005-08-23T09:18:00.000+02:00

No, not really an abbey, but an update on our beloved sisters in the service of Eris, Goddess of Confusion (also known as the RNG). Please welcome koalacat and Threesomes into the Order!

That means our list of titles is as follows:

The Girls:

J Jiggalicious: High Priestess of Sexy Jiggling
Sophinator: Our Lady of Inebriation
maraM2449: Keeper of the Tickly Secrets and High Priestess of Cleavage
Rubber_Toast: Beatifier of Bouncy Breakfast Foods
koalacat: Sister of Drunken Debauchery
Threesomes: Our Lady of Maple-Flavored Naughtiness
Mariasha: Sister of Necessary Violence

The Guys:

St. Dumas: Patron saint of hula hoops and round things
OldJanitor: Pope Of the Broom Closet, Finder of Secrets in the Trash and Exquisitioner
TankBoy: Sergeant at Arms and Lord Enforcer
Sentry22:Deacon of Smackdown
Saint Fnordius: Founder and Polyfather

A quote to consider

2005-08-17T14:00:00.000+02:00

"I doubt whether the agony an irradiated soldier goes through in the process of dying is any worse than that produced by having your body charred to a crisp by napalm, your guts being ripped apart by shrapnel, your lungs blown in by concussion weapons, and all those other sweet things that happen when conventional weapons (which are preferred and anointed by our official policy) are used."

Sam Cohen, inventor of the neutron bomb

The Deacon of Smackdown

2005-07-27T17:58:00.000+02:00

That's my new title for Sentry22. Wish him luck in his crusade/jihad/whatever against LIA, a truly dangerous organisation.

I'll write more the more later...

The High Priestess of Sexy Jiggling

2005-07-24T22:18:00.000+02:00

There's a new High Priestess in the Kingom of Loathing. J Jiggalicious is the High Priestess of Sexy Jiggling. She can be found using her sexy, jiggly skills to heal the denizens of /normal, all who are in dire need of her attention.

Welcome!

Icky wonky colourings of DOOM

2005-07-22T09:56:00.000+02:00

I'm redesigning the stylesheet for the blog by hand. That means dissecting Mr. Zeldman's template piece by piece, and some colours my look a little wrong. Bear with me.

Yet another member in the Church hierarchy

2005-07-22T09:12:00.000+02:00

The Church of ECoL is growing as fast as I can think up titles. The newest member is the lovely and talented Sophinator. She shall be known to us as Our Lady of Inebriation.

Update: And yet another title: Rubber_Toast is hereby the Beatifier of Bouncy Breakfast Foods

A cabal is you!

2005-07-21T12:32:00.000+02:00

THE ERISIAN CABAL OF LOATHING

The Erisian Cabal of Loathing is a non-prophet church, open to any who agree to be silly and confusing. Religious titles come and go; only those listed here are semi-permanent (unless you record it yourself).

The ECoL is slightly related to the Hermetic Order of Knights under Munich (HOKuM), but Membership in HOKuM requires proving in person that the applicant is a real human beng and not something else in disguise (like acabbage or rutebaga).

THE CHURCH HEIRARCHY:

Saint Fnordius: Episkopos and Polyfounder

St. Dumas: Patron saint of hula hoops and round things

OldJanitor: Pope Of the Broom Closet, Finder of Secrets in the Trash and Exquisitioner

maraM2449: Keeper of the Tickly Secrets and High Priestess of Cleavage

TankBoy: Sergeant at Arms and Lord Enforcer

More to come...

Do I really want to do this?

2004-07-05T15:50:00.000+02:00

Start up a blog, that is. It's not as if I've got all that much time. I'm not even sure what I should write about. Politics? Nah, too many blogs go there. Apples? I use them, but I have to insights. Babylon 5? Man, I still haven't seen the fifth season yet. GURPS? Hmmm, maybe...

I'll have to dwell on this a bit.