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Die Unklonbare · (02-23-2014)

“We pick them off the streets, usually the ones sub 5 years old.

There are an amazing array of stray humans out there, you wouldn’t believe.

Once we have one in our control, the conditioning begins.” – DU XI°

What use is a petty little wrestling company to a man who lives outside all convention and whose autonomy is absolute?

The young Hermit’s question was a fair one. After all, a wrestling company is so...trivial in the grand scheme. But what my short sighted brother failed to see, was the wider picture. This wrestling company is but a brick, nay, an atom, in the grand helix.

The Hermit took his place, placated as I answered him in full, with enough vigour to remind him that he should never doubt my vision, but with enough clemency that he would not fear asking questions in the future. It is imperative that my children ask questions; in the same way that any child must in their education. Asking questions shows that the mind is productive, and moreover shows that the mind is thinking the right way. If my young brother had asked me ‘who is your favourite wrestler’, there would have been no clemency.

It is all a game of psychology, you see. Conditioning from the very outset of life. This is the way – this is the only way.

You, the unenlightened, will question me. Fingers will be pointed, voices raised. How can a man be so cruel as to brainwash young children? Just what does he do to them anyway?

I laugh at your contempt. I cannot help but smile however wryly at how poorly your minds are evolved. My children are the fortunate; you, the wild herd, you are not fortunate. You are not evolved, and you think like beasts. And when you act in such a way, what else should I do but give you the therianthrope you desire? Why not become the beast you crave, why not tear you apart, physically or verbally? It would be beneath me to not have the compassion to give you what you crave and deserve.

"When you gargle glass, your throat gets cut." – DU XI°

So, who wants to gargle glass with Der Metzger? I’ve heard there are some good ‘talkers’ here. For some reason I have to suffix ‘talker’ with ‘trash’, though, so I assume that means most of you are spewing insults at each other out of your arses, which is, well, pretty diabolical, but I came to play. Will I follow suit or not?

(? asks !)

“Seven white rabbits are betrothed to the care of a wolf pup.

Upon the nigh the moon is full,

But the wolf pup’s gums are not yet broken,

So he nurtures the rabbits.” – DU XI°

Fucking Hell the first thing I see here is a promo by a guy who enjoyed Rango a little bit too much. One bullet for everyone he says. Do you not remember how the rest of that film went? Rango, the little lizard, was lying about killing seven ‘Jenkins brothers’ with one bullet, it was merely an attempt to spin his own legend while he was still an unknown in a dusty little dried up town.

To that end, nice analogy. You’re a nobody walking into a crowd of nobodies, and bleating about your bullet like a lizard.

But remember well, in reality, the lizard crawls on its stomach. It is one step above the snake. But not far enough that it is not the snake’s prey.

I’m your snake. I’m your ‘Rattlesnake Jake’ if you like. Only, I’m not in the employ of some shit eating mayor. I am your fucking mayor.

Should we cross paths, Rango, yours will not be a happy ending. You wont be meeting Clint Eastwood and having a revelation. You’ll be meeting my knees and fists and feeling their reverberation.

So enjoy your tragic romance with a bullet, while you can. Maybe find the time to show us how you will fire it; I assume since you clearly don’t seem to possess a firearm that you’ll be firing things out of your arse, which will frighten me about as much as Peter Gilmour must be frightened after you dedicated your entire opening promo to him.

If you can’t tell, I’m being disingenuous. The only bones you know how to break are the little wishbones in your KFC bucket. I recommend you go back to your day job before life treats you to an encounter with Der Metzger.

“Uncle Bore, said the shrew,
What am I to do?
Winter comes and I never knew.” – DU XI°

I just can’t wait for the first time I hear ‘Uncle Bore’. That is such a clever play on my name that I just know its on people’s lips already. Your diabolical originality summons tremors in my abdomen, a laughter that spills from me like sperm from Dildo Faggins’ mouth and anus after he parties with Morbid Angel a little too hard.

Guppy Parsh...

Comedy, gimmick, curtain jerker. Next.

Enigma. Sadly anything but an enigma. Just another result of a broken home. This another benefit that I give my children; a bosom within to rest, safety from the outside world and its destructive ways. This lad has seen sexual abuse and familial suicide, no wonder he looks so...spaced. Now the boy lives in a perpetual cycle, a downward spiral that forces him to relive his past upon every revolution, and to affect the world in the same way as some kind of therapeutic reflex reaction. Very quaint, but sadly nothing new. But I suppose ‘the man who has seen the worst has nothing to lose’, right?

The logic of a fool.

Enigma exists still; were his pain an overbearing one, he would have long since jumped in front of a freight train. But instead, he rides that train from town to town, infecting everyone he meets with his malaise and melancholy.

What a selfish bastard.

Seriously though, where are all the characters hiding? Why is it the first person I addressed, the so called King here, didn’t have time to rebut my words, yet a boring stoner and a guy who aspires to be a lower form of life did? Why is it I went for Mr Natural and he did nothing at all in response, just rolled over like a turtle on its back? I came here looking for fun, and so far I have been sorely disappointed with what I’ve been presented with.

Where’s Scorpio with the memes masking his inability to illustrate a point saliently?

Morbid Angel with the ‘bat shit crazy but likes children’s TV shows’?

Jessie Diaz with the acid tongue?

King Pryce with the y for ‘why am I here? I’d better milk it while no one notices’?

Ann Thraxx with that rack...wait that’s a different list.

Where’s Sebast – actually nah I don’t have the time for that one.

Eli James? The 'prophet' whose only actual prophecy is that he warned us, aka 'told you so'. Which is in fact a statement made with hindsight, so I must assume he comes from the same school of logic that Griffin Macalister graduated from with horns. Yes, horns. Little Mexican horns that play 'La Cucaracha'.

Even John Austin with his sado masochistic bent has failed to look in my direction so far.

Well, since no one else has shown up for this show yet, what more to say? It would be folly to lift my metaphorical skirt too high, so imagine me as a Victorian prude. You’re seeing some ankle. But just remember, when you are tearing at it, that there isn’t a meek little woman underneath, your therian reward awaits.

"Come come, little ones.
That we may light up the world,
That we may escape the cold,
That you may become aware and bold.
And devour the darkness,
Til in your palm the world behold.”

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