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This article is too close to the TRUTH!
Citizens should begin to feel uneasy or bemused now. Fnord.
You may know me better by my other name, Wendy Moira Angela Darling, or Wendy M.A.D. You know, Peter Pan's friend Wendy who pretended to be both his mother and wife so she could "get romantic" with him? Don't believe that clueless Disney version cuz they always clean up the lives of us Discordian American Princesses.
When I was a preteen girl in San Francisco in the late 1860s and early 1870s, I made a living serving clients as a "tantric engineer" or"soiled dove". But don't get me wrong; I was friends with Norton I, Emperor of American? So I was a lady of the evening, a royal tutor of the ways of the birds and the bees, strictly high class.
Oh, by the way, while I'm teaching you about Discordianism? I'll also be saving the world.
I'm on a mission from Goddess
“Children have the strangest adventures without being troubled by them.”
“Be Prepared for Anything.”
One day in 1872 after I moved to Great Brtain, I was getting ready to service a client when everything suddenly went like topsy turvy, upside down and backwards. It was like looking in a mirror while falling into a deep, dark hole. Some of my clients like doing that. But this was more like what sent Alice to Wonderland, you know? And like that tornado that sent Dorothy to Oz. Everything started twirling and rising and flying and turning inside out and shooting all over the place. Some of my clients like that, too. But none of them ever hit me in the head with a golden apple. That hurt!
Well I knew what that meant. Discordia. She's also called Goddess Eris, She's the Discordian Goddess, and She's a bitch. Eris is the one who rolled a golden apple marked "to the prettiest one" at this wedding party cuz She wasn't invited? Then these Goddesses started fighting over which one of them it was for. And that led to the Trojan War, the first of all wars? You don't mess with Eris. Especially if you're a lady like me.
“"Let us carry her down into the house," Curly suggested.
'Ay,' said Slightly, 'that is what one does with ladies.'”
Anyway, She said, "MARY SIMPSON." That's my other other name. And you know how Goddesses always talk in ALL CAPS.
I said, "What do you want? I'm busy." Discordia doesn't like it if you bow and scrape before her and stuff. Besides, I wanted to take the gold and run; I could make more money from selling that apple than I did selling my cherry. But when I grabbed it, it disappeared just like Alice's Cheshire Cat did. And just like my cherry.
Discordia said, "I GOT A CALL FROM MALACLYPSE THE YOUNGER." If you don't know, he started Discordianism with Lord Omar Khayyam Ravenhurst. I didn't know what She meant by "GOT A CALL" because telephones hadn't been invented yet, but I just said "So?" So She told me what Mal said and what She said to Mal:
So then Discordia told me, "I WANT YOU TO GO AND LET PEOPLE KNOW THEY CAN STOP KILLING THEMSELVES. IF THAT'S WHAT THEY WANT."
I said, "But why me? Yeah, I get around, but I'm just a young working girl in a world dominated by men, so nobody will listen to me."
"EMPEROR NORTON CALLED YOU 'THE LITTLE COUNTESS,' AND I DECLARE YOU A 'DISCORDIAN AMERICAN PRINCESS'. GO FORTH AND SAVE THE WORLD AND STUFF."
I didn't seem to have much of a choice, so I said, "OK; whatever."
Oh by the way
I was leaving when Eris suddenly said, "OH, AND BY THE WAY, IF YOU DON'T SUCCEED, ON FRIDAY, DECEMBER 21, 2012, THE WORLD WILL END."
I was like, "that's like 150 years from now. Why should I worry?"
"BECAUSE I JUST MOVED YOU FORWARD IN TIME TO 00:48, July 8 2015 (UTC)."
"Say what?" I said in total shock.
"I ALWAYS THOUGHT THE WORLD SHOULD END ON A FRIDAY. SAME DAY THEY SNUBBED ME AT THAT WEDDING. EVERYBODY LOOKING FORWARD TO THE WEEKEND, HA! THEN ZAP. AND THE FIRST DAY OF WINTER SEEMS LIKE THE PERFECT DAY."
"But December 21 is the beginning of summer in the southern hemisphere!" I said, knowingly.
"WHATEVER," said Eris.
The Curse of Greyface
“We propose that man develop his innate love for disorder, and play with The Goddess Eris. And know that it is a joyful play, and that thereby CAN BE REVOKED THE CURSE OF GREYFACE.”
Now before I could save the world, I had to do some research. How could I save the world if I didn't know what was wrong with it? So I spent hours studying the modern day by watching Fox News on television and pop stars on the Internet. And people thought I was an ignorant slut. I also learned about the modern Discordians so I'd recognize them, and of course checked the Bible of Discordianism, Principia Discordia, to get some answers.
The world's problems were caused by an ancient and powerful Curse, invoked by some hunch-brained guy called Greyface in 1166 B.C. Before him people didn't worry about rules, but ate, drank and were merry. But he brainwashed a lot of people by constantly repeating the sentence, "Look at all the order around you" while ignoring all the disorder. Kind of like you did with your mother when she told you to clean your room. But this Greyface dude also looked at random pebbles and stars and told people they're really Starbuck's connect-the-dot goats and virgins and crabs and you had better believe it or else! Greyface had OCD, and was a real party pooper.
Well, the dude was crazy, but he was also charismatic, and people were afraid of him. So everybody started putting everything in its place, which to Greyface was doing it "my way" instead of "your way." Soon the world had laws and wars and greed and slavery and all the rest. The curse was Seriousness, and it had to be stopped and fast before those dudes with Weapons of Mass Destruction and Laws Of Mass Manipulation stopped everything. See those words I used? I told you I'm well-read.
“A Discordian is Prohibited of Believing What he Reads.”
“IT IS SO WRITTEN! SO BE IT. HAIL DISCORDIA! PROSECUTORS WILL BE TRANSGRESSICUTED.”
I looked for some Orthodox Discordians because who would know Discordianism better than them? I found a group all wearing T-shirts with the official Discordian numbers 5 and 23. They were dropping things in a mud puddle and playing Sink--I recognized the game from Principia Discordia, so I knew they were orthodox. One said "I sunk Columbus, Ohio!" Five times. I waited for him, so at least he didn't sink it 23 times.
"Hi," I said. "I'm Minnie Rae, I'm a Discordian American Princess and I'm on a mission from Goddess."
A man with a big hat marked "size 23/5" who I recognized as Doctor Pimento-Whoser-Loser-Juan-Derful, said "Discordian American Princess? That's not in Principia Discordia--unless it's in the Steve Jackson version, but that's not canon. You aren't a cabbage in disguise, are you? What's your official Discordian holy name?"
"It doesn't matter," I said. "Eris sent me to save the world and I need your help!"
"It doesn't matter?" exclaimed a woman I knew was Priestess Eris the Terrorist, a size 16 broad squished into size 5 pants. "You mean if it's not in the P.D. it doesn't matter."
"But the world is going to end on Friday, December 21, 2012, unless we stop it!" I said.
"You should use the official Discordian calendar for dates," said the Doctor. "Let's look up the convertor found on page 00034 of Principia....ah, it's Setting Orange, The Aftermath 63, Year of Our Lady of Discord 3178. But according to page 00053 of Principia, the world won't end until The Golden Apple Corps goes to where Discordianism began, the Brunswich Shrine in Whittier, California, for the fifth time five times over. Have we done that? I'll have to consult my pineal gland, Fnord."
"If it's going to end on a Friday, we should get plenty of hot dogs to eat because that's what Eris did when She was snubbed at the wedding party on a Friday," said the priestess.
"But no hot dog buns, because according to The Doctrine of the Original Snub on page 00018, Eris ate a hot dog without a bun," said the Doctor.
"I'll go buy hot dogs!" said someone.
Someone else said, "I'll go buy no hot dog buns!"
Another person threw a tea bag marked "Page 00037" which hit me in the head. "I sunk Minnie Rae!" she said. "23 skidoo!"
"I'm leaving," I said, and left.
Surreal Pinealist Rutabega Discordians
“The human race will begin solving its problems on the day that it ceases taking itself so seriously.”
“Well, I never heard it before, but it sounds uncommon nonsense.”
“We're all mad here.”
The first group didn't help me so I thought I'd try the Surreal, or, Pineal Rutabega Discordians. I saw them at Wal-Mart. A third of them were putting up silly posters, a third were taking down silly posters, a third were spouting nonsense phrases like "toad the wet sprocket or my pineal gland's not a rubber chicken!", and the last third were throwing apple, rutabega and other kinds of pies at passerbys.
One of them was dressed as a clown in a bright yellow and orange and blue jumper. He wore a pair of extremely large black rim glasses that really were small fish bowls in a frame, with each bowl holding a goldfish. He also wore a mustache that was at least a foot across. He was sitting on a "sacred chao" named "Professor Moo." And this was while putting up a poster another Discordian had just taken down after yet another Discordian had put it up.
"Excuse me," I said. "I'm Minnie Rae, I'm a Discordian American Princess and I'm on a mission from Goddess."
Failed to parse (lexing error): "I'm
Failed to parse (lexing error): Cramalot," he said, bowing. Failed to parse (lexing error): "Have Failed to parse (lexing error): pie!" he rose up and threw one at me. Fortunately by now I was used to dodging things thrown by Discordians, and caught it. He scratched his head with a green plastic hand and said, Failed to parse (lexing error): "Say, Failed to parse (lexing error): before," and went back to putting up a poster upside down.
"The world's going to end in 2012, and I'm trying to save it," I said.
Failed to parse (lexing error): "Save
Failed to parse (lexing error): what?" he said and laughed like that was really funny. A bunch of the other Discordians laughed too.
Failed to parse (lexing error): "Don't
Failed to parse (lexing error): serious," he said. Failed to parse (lexing error): "You're Failed to parse (lexing error): happy!" Then he hopped off the chao, pulled a pogo stick out of his gigantic mustache, and starting bouncing around.
"I've had enough of you clowns," I said. I threw the pie at him and hit him right in the kisser. He stood there with egg on his face, his mustache fell off, and suddenly he looked like a very sad man.
Failed to parse (lexing error): "Say,
Failed to parse (lexing error): before," he said, and starting crying crocodile tears.
"This is too silly," I said, and left.
Hate Rant Discordians
“Look around you. Look at these cold, black bars. The colorless ceiling. The hard ground. That's your universe. That's the world you're going to be living in for the rest of your life here in Prison.”
“Or kill me.”
The next group of Discordians saw me first. I figured they had heard of my mission, and were coming in the shape of a five-sided pentagram to give me something to eat, like hot dogs and cabbages or something. By now I was getting pretty hungry. But when they got closer, I saw they were arranged more like an oblong and were carrying stones and rocks. I can tell you I was seriously worried. But they totally ignored me.
I swallowed hard and said, "H-Hi everybody. I'm Minnie Rae and I'm on a mission from Goddess."
One of them, was a dark-skinned woman with black hair named Saint Sin. "Goth" was the name of the woman. She sniffed and said, "Something smells funny," and threw a rock in a random direction. "Just practice," she said to no one in particular.
"Do those rocks and stones represent Starbuck's pebbles," I asked, hopefully, "so that if you scatter them randomly some people will see patterns in the randomness, and assume all the universe is ordered, but you're here to show people differently? If so, you can help me save the world!"
Then the group made an opening, and a middle-aged, totally bald man walked out. He face was furrowed with angry scowls and crevices so deep you could use them to hide butcher knives. "We heard about you, DAP," he spat, and where he spit smoke rose up. I knew I was in really real trouble. "You're one of those Really Real Discordians who think everyone should agree with you, aren't you? Well, we know the real Discordia, a hateful, vengeful Goddess with a cold, steel knife hidden in her bosom. We heard you plan to throw seriousness in the garbage, dine on non-existent freedom, and save a sliver of hope for dessert!" exclaimed the man, whom I recognized as the angry Reverend Roadkill. "And we hate that!"
"Hate!" "Fail!" "Hate Fail!" they said, nodding their heads in agreement with each other and scowling in disagreement with me.
"Reverend Roadkill is right!" said one. "Nobody can tell us what to think!" said another. The others went on to say; "Roadkill is totally right!" "Two Mittens up!" "10 mittens!" "Infinite mittens!" "Infinite Mittens and w1n!"
"Sorry," one long-haired, bearded man in a dirty white robe named Pope Ratsass whispered to me, "but we must hate you on principle alone. Nothing personal." Then loudly he said, "I give Reverend Roadkill five mittens!"
"FIVE MITTENS?!" said the group all together. "Isn't five that old smelly Erisian number?" "Isn't that from that old smelly hippie Principia Discordia?"
"ALL CONDEMNATION TO FOOLS AND TOOLS!!" said the group as they took their stones in hand. I was terrified they'd start throwing them at me, but saw they were all looking at the long-haired man in the white robe.
The man said, "Peace." Somehow, I knew that was the wrong thing for him to say. I quickly ran away.
Conspiracy Fanboy Discordians
“Feeling paranoid? Good: illumination is on the other side of absolute terror. And the only terror that is truly absolute is the horror of realising that you can't believe anything you've ever been told. You have to realise fully that you are "a stranger and afraid in a world you never made," like Houseman said.”
Next I found myself amongst a group of Discordians huddled under a picture of Robert Anton Wilson signed RAW, all of them wearing tin-foil hats. "Excuse me," I said, "But the world is going to end in 2012 unless--"Before I could speak any more, the one wearing a "23 is everywhere" T-shirt began babbling:
"We know, we know!." said one I recognized as Major Zeigfield Folly. "It's all an Illuminati conspiracy being perpetrated by descendants of Adam Weishaupt who passed himself off as George Washington to start the Bavarian Illuminati in the United States! We have been training diligently to see all the fnords planted around us and found out that the Pentagon was built to contain Yog-Sothoth! It also has five sides, just like "fnord" has 5 letters, we each have 5 fingers, and Wilson's middle name, Anton, has 5 letters! We also highly suspect that Hagbard Celine is not The Midget in disguise but is actually an Illuminati pent-agent trying to destroy the Discordian society from the inside! And...wait... why am I telling you this? Did you work your evil Illuminati tricks on me? All is lost!"
I was like are they really taking Robert Anton Wilson and Robert Shea's Sci-Fi novels and tongue-in-cheek manifestos literally? I said, "You're worse than the Surrealist Discordians who think Discordianism is all jokes. Don't you get that Discordianism is both a serious philosophy and a joke?"
"Lies!," said a woman called Dr. Paranoid Spinster. "Look to RAW! Conspiracies are everywhere! Stay alert! Trust no one! Keep your laser handy!"
I did look to RAW, or at least his portrait, and then I discovered there was something in the back of the frame. Then I laughed out loud.
"Try really looking at Wilson," I said. "You might hear what he's really saying."
Instead, they frantically searched for listening devices I might have planted, and polished the frame that held Wilson's serious, commanding portrait.
I left, shaking my head. I totally knew none of them had ever looked at the other side of the frame. One the back was a photo of Wilson laughing uproariously, probably at the people fooled by his silly tricks..
“There are no rules anywhere. The Goddess Prevails.”
I was about to give up, you know? Like how was I supposed to save the world with no help? But I had one Discordian group left to try; the Hippie Discordians. The future of the world totally depended on them.
I found them in a hot tub in a house in a skinny birch tree that didn't look nearly strong enough to hold up the tub and the water and a bunch of people. But on a branch hung a sign that said, "All Laws are Invalid Here--Including The Laws of Physics."
“'The more a society requires its respectable women to keep their bodies covered, the more likely those women are to be oppressed.”
"Take off your clothes so we can tell you aren't a cabbage, and come on in!" said a girl wearing nothing but a white sheet and flowers in her hair, which was really a blonde wig. Then she flashed the Discordian peace sign and said "Peace."
"Oh my Goddess!" I said. "Aren't you Miley Ray Cyrus?"
"That's Princess Smiley Day Eris, and she's a DAP like you," said a man wearing a Leonardo da Vinci mask, a pair of goofy sacred chao glasses and nothing else. Then to the princess the mask said, "e can come in es dress, come in es pants, come in naked. Just come in. I'm Reverend Loveshat."
"What do you mean 'e' and 'es'?" I asked.
"Genderless neologisms for 'he/she' or 'his/her/hers'," said a naked woman. "We're non-sexist, non-ageist and non-speciest personists here. I'm St. Mae Aye, and yes you may. We know who you are; I named myself after you too, 'M' from 'Minnie' and 'ae' from 'Rae.'"
So being a sheet-less DAP I took off all my clothes and jumped in the hot tub. It was crowded, for there were about a dozen people including a winged horse with four breast]]s, a walrus named John or Paul or maybe John Paul, and a smiling cat named Cheshire. They gave me something to drink and I drank, something to smoke and I smoked, and something to stick wherever I wanted to stick it and I stuck it. I was chillin' in the hot tub, listening to the music coming out of the walrus' mustache, and not feelin' worried about anything. But then I suddenly remembered my mission.
"I'm on a mission from Goddess," I said.
"We all are," said the four-breasted winged horse named Fairly Unihorny.
"I'm trying to save the world," I said.
"We all are," said the walrus, then went back to playing music out of his--es--mustache.
"But you're all just sitting and smoking and drinking and sitting in a hot tub!" I said.
"Don't worry," said Rev. Loveshat. "Later comes the sex."
"But how's that going to save the world?" I asked.
"If the world can't save itself, it's not worth saving," said the cat named Cheshire, with a big smile.
"You're no help at all!" I said, and grabbed my clothes and left.
“Ye have locked yerselves up in cages of fear--and, behold, do ye now complain that ye lack FREEDOM!”
I felt just awful, and was totally afraid the world would end soon and it would be my fault. I plopped down under an apple tree and started crying. Within minutes an apple fell on my head and it hurt! I saw stars circling randomly around my head. But then I realized if I looked at them a certain way, they looked like the number 5. Another way they were a bouncing pogo stick, or prison bars, or the face of Wilson wearing a devious grin. Or a naked, winged, four breasted horse sitting in a hot tub in a birch tree. But then they were just stars again.
Suddenly, all the nonsense made sense. And all the sense made nonsense.
“All statements are true in some sense, false in some sense, meaningless in some sense, true and false in some sense, true and meaningless in some sense, false and meaningless in some sense, and true and false and meaningless in some sense.”
So I quoted Principia Discordia in English to people who spoke Arabic, put a poster on a mausoleum that said "Virgin Bride: Inquire Within," donated a copy of A Discordian Coloring Book to a prison, put Discordian messages in colored plastic Erister eggs and hid them at a church Easter egg hunt, and laughed and discussed philosophy and had fun in a hot spring with the new friends I'd made doing all that. If you can't do what you want, as long as you don't hurt anybody, then what is the point?
I had a fantabulous time not worrying about anything. I stayed in the hot spring for I don't know how long. I know I saw some green leaves fall and then change color to red and orange and brown and fly back up. Later they turned blue and fell again, but not in the spring, and after that it snowed yellow on the ground but not in the trees. At least that's the way it looked to me.
“IMPENDING DOOM HAS ARRIVED”
When December 21, 2012 came around, the world didn't end. But we sang, "It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine." Then we had a great orgy.
And that's how, using Discordianism, I saved the world.
"And when men become free then mankind will be free. May you be free of The Curse of Greyface. May the Goddess put twinkles in your eyes. May you have the knowledge of a sage, and the wisdom of a child. Hail Eris." ---Principia Discordia
- ↑ The Autobiography of Minnie Rae as written by someone else It has lots of sex but not much violence, so sue me.
- ↑ Yes, that's really my name in the book. Look it up!
- ↑ My friend Jimmy wrote about him and me in Peter Pan and Wendy, only he changed our names. Jimmy, or J. M. Barrie, and I were both born in 1860, but I've been reincarnated like a thousand times; the first time I was the Whore of Babylon in the Bible. Gosh was that fun!
- ↑ If you want to see the non-Disneyfied version of what DAPs like me, Wendy, and Alice and Dorothy really do, read Lost Girls by Alan Moore and drawn by Melinda Gebbie. Make sure you have your hankerchief handy. And I don't mean for crying. ;-)
- ↑ 'Principia Discordia or How I Found Goddess And What I Did To Her When I Found Her, Fourth edition (1970), page 00038
- ↑ OK, so maybe you can't have four thirds. I told you I'm well-read, but I never said I was good at math.
- ↑ I guess the orgy and the law-breaking explains my picture, you know, how I got pregnant when I was only 11 years old? Or maybe I was 10. A lot of us DAPs are no good at math. But we're great at multiplication.
Hail Eris! All Hail Discordia!
- The Church of the Ironic Cheesecake.Inc
- Church of the SubGenius
- Discordian American Princesses
- Eris Discordia
- Flying Spaghetti Monster
- Minnie Rae
- Reverend Loveshade
- The 23 Apples of Eris Dating Service and Hotdog Grillery
- Reverend Loveshade's Ek-sen-trik-kuh Discordia: The Tales of Shamlicht aka "Dead Puppy Sex"
- St. Mae, Johnny Brainwash and KallistiCon Sluts
- Stupid Discordian Quotes about Fruitbats
- Totally Bogus Discordia Wiki
- The Honest Book of Truth, Discordian-Inspired Ranting
- Illuminatus Inner Sanctum
- Omar Khayyam Ravenhurst's Tomb and Sex Shop
- Jonesboro's House of Eris' Science and Fnord Committee (Publishers of the stupid book Jonesboria Discordia)
- Eris Bosomknife on the other side of the pond
- A cunning Discordian Human Sacrifice Cult disguised as a welcoming committee
- Robert Anton Wilson, his website and spidey hole
- Discordian mud wrestling