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Discordia Em Portugues / Operation Mindfuck: FNORDGASM
« Last post by wodouvhaox on November 20, 2015, 12:19:39 PM »


by @Dark one Night

:::




This post was not written for you. Well… maybe. This is about OM (no… Is not about the mantra OM, it is about Operation Mindfuck). I wrote this post in English, because the Brazilian can`t do anything (neither the president).

The FNORD must to be disseminated to the four corns of this world. Well… It is not to be the truth, but I want to.

So… what yours strategic to disseminate the FNORD? Do you do? I don’t know, I`m asking because reasons (and my English is not so good…).

How to make most people see the FNORD?

I`m asking and suggesting something that I do.

    Name your wi-fi with the word FNORD.
    Make images about games and other popular topics and throw in internet (twitter, facebook, whatsapp!). Whatsapp is the best way to fnord people…
    Fnord your arbitrarily valued paper

I am so sorry for your sin.

Write to me to participate
Twitter: @Dark one Night
e-mail: darknightbeast666@gmail.com

I prefer the twitter.
NOBODY READ IT
FNORD
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Discordia Em Portugues / Re: submEta em português pra Intermittens!
« Last post by Dark Night on September 09, 2015, 11:22:25 AM »
Só para explicar o inexplicável por uma perspectiva metafórica ilusória com muitas redundâncias.
E para testar o fórum tbm...

Hellokity
The book is on the table
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Quote
Action 23
- or -
Applied Discordianism

Discordia,
also called Eris, is the Goddess of confusion, and therefore responsible for all the Chaos that surrounds us every day. Discordianism is not a joke dressed up as a religion, but a religion dressed up as a joke. Discordianism is called the first surrealist world religion by leading anthroposophs (Surrealism refers to the total transformation of the mind).
If you want to know more about Discordianism, ask Yehova's Witnesses, your local tabloid, or the Department for the Control of Sect Activity and Total Indoctrination.
Or just read the "Principia Discorida", the bible of this underground religion.
The articles of faith of the Erisian Movement are based mostly on Catmas, relative articles of faith, who can be reformulated at will and thereby create an system open for recombination at any time, which therefore is virtually immune to stagnation.
Discordianism is exactly the right thing for free thinking individuals.
But it's really just what you make of it.
It's all just you.
Not some god.
Just you.
For the rest of the world!

Action 23
is a phenomenon within the Erisian Movement, which shall allow individuals to spread their opinions 1. anonymously and 2. organized.
The main aim is to release creativity and give the people a possibility to express their opinion. Action 23 is only one example for the possibilities of communication between individuals and can also be used as a blueprint for other individual projects.
It is not protected by any copyright laws, is not subjected by censorship, and is really independent and above party lines. (Voice from the back seats: "It's not true, we're all anarchists here!")
In chapter 4, you will find a collection of available flyers revealed to us, B. Metulevskie, Adornus Abel Magnifikus Makulatus and Frater M23, not a few many years ago on one of our travels through space and time (we only had a towel and... that's another story!). As you will see after studying them, the action is based on the pyramid principle and its success depends on the people willing to participate in it. That includes you. But attention! You will be violating the law (bla bla...), for Action 23 is the most subversive I could come up with as to now, or at least the most subversive I had the courage to publish.
Therefore:
Join us - for confusion's sake!
For if you can't convince 'em, confuse 'em!

Thanks to Tarvoc who has translated this from "Grundkurs humanoide Metaphysik"
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Intermittens image submissions / Re: Aktion 23 images
« Last post by Bwana Honolulu on July 03, 2013, 09:55:06 AM »
Fnord Cards by Cpt. Bucky Saia:


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Yesterday I met with Saint Angrémonn and asked him:
"Good Saint, a question bothers me day and night, and no meditation could so far bring the answer to me. How did the Goddess knew what to write on the golden apple in order to stir the desires of the other goddesses?"

He answered:
"Easy. She just wrote down what would have awoken Her own desire."

Upon hearing this, I was enlightened.
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I don't know if this qualifies as a "written submission" since it's mostly images with explanatory text, but I post it anyways:

Quote
Troll Box I

This is an Aktion 23 guerilla art project we started. The idea behind it was to have boxes looking similar to fire alarm boxes, but they are pink and labelled “In case of normality break glass” (German “Im Normalfall Scheibe einschlagen”). And instead of the fire alarm button there is some little absurd “present” inside which can be used to counter severe cases of normality, like a fake moustache. Here are some pictures of the first prototype:








Since the prototype came out quite nicely, we started "mass production" already:






Even though work on this project is halted right now due to some time restraints, I'm pretty sure we will have them finished and spread in some german cities this year.

And of course, as the name "Troll Box I" implies,  there are plans for a Troll Box II", but these will be revealed on a later date.

The text is an edited version of this tumblr posting. EDIT: Cramulus has mentioned it in the Fractal Cult thead already.
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Intermittens written submissions / Tank Chocolate
« Last post by enkiv2 on June 06, 2013, 08:27:30 PM »
In life, the Author had been a large man. Not portly, but broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, with a slight paunch. His beard greyed early, and his hair fell out late. In his current state, though, he was by human standards very large. Completely hairless, his various organs were distributed between various large grey boxes across an area that was once the primary warehouse for an international chain of bookstores. While in life he had been (by American standards) fairly lean and muscular for a member of a sedentary profession, his remaining musculature was now atrophied and the smooth muscles coated in thick layers of pearly white fat (a mechanism based on metal racks and galvanism similar to that used in the production of synthetic beef having been abandoned for economic reasons years before). More sedentary than he ever was in life, in death he was at least more productive: while he had published two or three books a year from his twentieth birthday to his first heart attack at age 55, he had released on average one book every three weeks in the thirty years since. While his popularity with audiences waxed and waned (except in France, where he was perpetually mid-list), each boom provided more than enough profits for his estate to maintain his body during the busts.
Mylar-coated plastic tubes, filled with bodily fluids, synthetic compounds, and thick bundles of electric and fiber-optic cable formed the veins and synapses of this very modern machine.
On 2 March, 2022, an alarm sounded inside the facility.
On-call technical staff, most of them fans of the Author’s work, were already in the employee lounge. They were shooting the shit about European history.
“That shit, in the lime-green tubes? Methamphetamines.”
“Bull shit. That ain’t legal.”
“When you make as much cash as the old guy in the box, you can buy legal.” The old guy was no longer a guy, and most of him was no longer old. It had been a long time since there was only one box. “You’ve been here, what? Two, three years? I was here when they upgraded that system. Guy doing repairs told me. Said that shit’s invented by the Nazis, see.”
“Meth? I thought it was invented by hicks.”
The older man ignored him. “Said it was a kind of super pep-pill, but that it was cursed. Said at first it made them better, faster, work harder, didn’t need no sleep. Then, later, it drove ‘em- shit.” The alarm blared. “Fucker needs repairs.”
They slipped on sterile paper gowns over their jumpsuits, and put on goggles and facemasks. The younger man put on a pair of gloves.
Glancing at a panel of small lamps, the older man frowned. “Leak in section 2-B. This is gonna be messy.”
The younger man frowned, hopped on a cart, and drove down to the far corner of the warehouse. Fecal leaks are the worst part of the job, but he’s the only one on duty with medical training - the rest are merely engineers with HVAC certs.
“Shit,” the older man said. “Shit,” he repeated, shouting. “Leaks aren’t the worst of our problems.”
The younger man looked back to see the entire array of lamps flashing. He stopped, and began to turn around, when there was a blinding flash of light, like magnesium igniting. Covering his eyes, he blindly veered his cart to the left, crashing through the pre-fab aluminium wall. A steady stream of red-brown fluid followed him out the makeshift opening.
Smoke began to rise from the hole. He smelled a whif of ozone and burning hydrocarbon polymer, mixed with the distinct scent of overcooked hamburger meat. Stumbling out of the now-stalled cart, he walked towards the barrens at the edge of the property, numbly groping for his mobile in his pocket.
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All Else / Re: Dingo suggests
« Last post by PlacidDingo on June 05, 2013, 07:10:53 AM »
Discordian Dark Angels (I saw Ratatost get kind of reactionary against this one (not unfairly), so it seems to be a feather ruffler)
You mean Discordian Dark Elves? Where did Ratatosk get reactionary, can you link it? I'm curious. ;-)

On FaceSpace. I don't remember which group, I shared it. Hopefully Rat will return here to tell you himself.
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All Else / Re: Dingo suggests
« Last post by Bwana Honolulu on June 04, 2013, 10:06:29 AM »
Discordian Dark Angels (I saw Ratatost get kind of reactionary against this one (not unfairly), so it seems to be a feather ruffler)
You mean Discordian Dark Elves? Where did Ratatosk get reactionary, can you link it? I'm curious. ;-)
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