Cute Dog Sneezing (2127 A.D.?): A.K.A. "being outside in the sunlight to smell a magical cure for spring"

Dear Laws of Dickheads:

As you can see, that which:

A) talks the talk,

B) walks the walk, and,

C) squawks the squawk,

Can be properly be called:

A) an unoriginal, 

B) an a-hole-space monkey, 

C) A slob-dobbler (ca. 1990 "knob-gobbler").

Your paltry and simplistic output has lasted for years....years!!  And you have, what?  Resigned yourself to splotchy blurbs with nary a Neanderthal pun in which to find something, anything, that is, shall we say, intelligent, or at the very least, "sharp?"

Get with it, shysters.  Faith is gonna move ya.  Brothers gonna work it out.  God Save the Queen!

You runt-nuts!!  Dare I say:  Russian warship, go fuck yourself!  Get, with it, "blog!!"  Do some ding-a-ling à la a no-bling, flava flav, 'larm clock:  Wake up, bitches!!!  Wake the fuck up!!!"

And so on.  Word to the wise, shit-heels:  Stop phoning it in.   At least have the balls and realpolitik 'nuff to know ya gotta make some bank, yo.

And, oh yeah, at the top of this page there's this weird, looped image of what appears to be a so-called "Border Collie" sneezing, with a demeanor that betrays a feeling somewhere between cute chagrin and total terror.  The striated B+W, 1970's TV-like image could come from 1957, 2047, or today, but it's a transmission, baby, and it was beamed into my head by the pedophile "coronavirus cabal" that has infiltrated the world:  the G-7, NATO, the Bilderbergs, the CIA, FBI, KGB, Star Fleet, the Deep State, the Scottish Rite, the Order of the Arrow, the Rotarians, the UN, etc. et. al. ad nauseum.

Remember, I love you.  But these other chain-yankers do not.  By any means necessary, one way or the other, you must survive this war, and well, so far, you have been getting your asses kicked six ways to Sunday by the brutal boot-heel of everyday living.  Simple shit.

Like I said:  You suck.  Your blog sucks.  Your life sucks.  Close up shop.  STFU.  Give it up, wusses.

Kind Regards,
Théophile Prades
Beaupuy, France

Squeezing the Joy out of the Plush Toy of Life

Dear Laws of Silence:

Sure, you may have heard of the soft-spoken and hard-drinking poet & novelist, but did you know of Charles Bukowski's sideline as a designer of "collectable" stuffed toys?

I didn't think so!

Apparently, "they" haven't released these in the US or UK so as not to damage Mr. Bukowski's street cred.  But in France, where the fine art of plush toy design is as revered as Camembert cheese and stripey shirts, they fly off the shelves like, um, wild horses running away over the hill.  Or something like that.  Models include the Impotent Old Drunk, the Scabby Crack Whore, the Unlucky Gambler and the Psychotic Hobo.

Now these are transitional objects to be proud of, to "de-simpify" your kids, who have no doubt been ruined by mawkish cuteness and glorified adverts:  in short, food for cretins.  Grab this bull by the balls and squeeze 'til it yells "Uncle!"

Or, as it would yell in France -- the talking bulls of  Limousin are legend:  "Oncle!"

Kind Regards,
Théophile Prades
Beaupuy, France

Background on the book From Vaquois Hill to Exermont

author W.L. Sanders, WWI

The 138th Regiment, 35th Division was formed by combining the 1st + 5th Missouri Nat. Guard Regiments.  Both were recruited, in the main, from the St. Louis, Mo. metropolitan area.  The 1st was an old established outfit.  The 5th was organized after the start of WWI.

Brother Tom enlisted in Company A, 1st Mo. Regiment in April 1917.  He was "Killed in Action" Sept. 28, 1918 at age 25.  Brother John enlisted in Co. K, 5th Reg. in late August, 1917 at age 19+.  Soon after his arrival overseas he was hospitalized in an English hospital with a form of Rheumatism (Note: In his  earlier teens he had suffered from this ailment). However, he participated in all the action in which his outfit was engaged.  After the Argonne battle, he was assigned to battalion intelligence.  At one time, he told me he was one of a detail assigned to cut the barbed wired in front of the lines before the Sept. 26 advance.  After the armistice, he was hospitalized and came home on the USS N. Carolina.  He was discharged as a total disability with a heart ailment that eventually caused his death at age 47.

From reading the book [From Vaquois Hill to Exermont, James E. Rieger, 1919], the chief of staff's report and from other reliable sources, it is evident that the 35th Division had excessive casualties.  It is also fairly clear that the Div. was definitely underofficered and suffered from poor leadership.  Any success achieved seems to have been the result of individual effort with little competent direction from on high.

It is also fairly evident that the Division was not adequately "battle hardened" for such a tough assignment as the Argonne drive.

From the evidence I have been able to come up with the Div. received this assignment because of their proximity to the site and because of the difficulty in getting nine Division into ["line" ?] + 3 Division into support on short notice following the St. Michel offense[ive].

The normal procedure was to ease the new Divisions along more gradually.

[signed "W.L. Sanders"]

--

The author is my Great-Uncle William "Bill" Sanders.  Uncle Bill served in both the First and Second World Wars.  He volunteered both times; for WWI he was an enlisted infantryman; in WWII he was a Lt. in the Navy, serving as a Seabee in the Pacific theater.  He was 42 years of age.  This little text was discovered in his copy of  From Vaquois Hill to Exermont.  I have reproduced it here, respecting his text to the letter as much as possible.

Ektoplazzem

Dear Laws of Silence:

First a bit of background on ectoplasm:

Definition	A substance said to be excreted by mediums during trances; a slime-like substance said to be associated with hauntings.
Signature	Said to be white/gray/transparent or any other colour, viscous; resembling mucus. Said to ooze from solid objects or from mediums' bodies involving mucous membranes (nose, eyes, mouth), and to take form as a misty substance.

Source:  Wikipedia

The text above (minus "Source:  Wikipedia") was electronically cut-up four times, re-formatted, the punctuation eliminated, and given an aleatory title (on the ectoplasm page, the words "with the" were typed into "find" and, when found, the next two words were selected).  I wish I could say that this geste had no particular purpose and wish even more I didn't have to say that the result has no particular value.  The cut-up tool has merely repeated only a few of the words several times and eliminated several others.  The secrets liberated from inside this prison of words thus do not shed any light on my question (forthcoming).  Cybernetic bibliomancy has led nowhere, so fate has forced you upon me.

"Le Miro"

with be
nose, from said
any said be
take said viscous
nose, said to nose
trances, be to trances
by said said
other said take to said
take any be said associated
nose, other said take
to nose
to said trances
viscous
said to to be white/gray/transparent
by trances
take nose, associated to be
colour,
        colour,
                bodies

So the point, the question, is this.  You fellows obviously think of yourselves as what Tzara's vulgar herd would consider clever men; whereas this opinion is debatable, it is undeniable fact that you both have noses.  Tell us, then, pray:  Is Caspar indeed the ghost of Richie Rich?

Kind regards,

Théophile Prades
Beaupuy, France

thus were more vulnerable to brigands

Dear Laws of Silence:

Jesus, that consumate showman, once said:

“I tell you the truth, it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”

I not sure rich men care about heaven anymore, if in fact they ever did; just as I am convinced you do not understand anything about the world around us.

Who, for example, would smoke this fellow?

Kind regards,

Théophile Prades
Beaupuy, France.
....

prior to completion of the building

Dear Laws of Silence:

You may have heard of a catcher in the rye or even pigs in a blanket, but have you ever seen a hydrant in a stocking?

To make matters worse, from a distance, the black plastic wrapped around the lamp posts nearby look like grieving widows. But you can't see them here.

These fields are quickly becoming something else.

Kind regards,

Théophile Prades
Beaupuy, France.

To die, or in the case of inanimate objects, to cease working

Dear Gid:

You show us the Feral House, but let me please present you with the Feral Bike:


It makes a lovely corpse, but I'm not sure which kind of careless abandon is the greater crime; if it be a crime at all.

You Americans say that the only certainties in life are death and taxes. Oh how we proud Gauls know this! But you might also add a third truth: that sooner or later each one of us will have to decide whether or not to acknowledge the ghost in the wheatfield.


As you can see, even ghosts cast shadows.

Kind regards,

Théophile Prades
Beaupuy, France.

an impression of the man police

Dear Laws of Silence:

This is a field of colza. In English it's more commonly known as rape, or rapeseed. The plant is cultivated extensively in France for its oil, which can be used for a variety of industrial and nutritional purposes. It has become much more prominent of late as an ingredient in biodiesel.

On my drive to work it covers the land to either side of the highway, acre upon acre, the yellow and green carpet visible for at least 20 minutes of the 35-minute journey.

As I look out over the rolling landscape my mind wanders back over the distances of time, and one phrase repeats itself over-and-over, endlessly: "fields of rape...."

Bucolic, brutal, beautiful.

Kind regards,

Théophile Prades
Beaupuy, France.
.