Another day in Haterdise!
As the Pet Shop Boys so eloquently put it: “We are the bums that you step over, and, ultimately, trample to death as you rush to purchase the latest Harry Potter opus or Playstation gaming console.”
Relevance? You got it. While the world goes to hell in a handmaiden, most people ignore the ultimate power of HATE. You know that – that’s why you’re reading this.
Oh, sure, we all know how to ‘hate’ something or somebody, but have you ever wondered what the ultimate expression of pure hatred could be?
Well, don’t worry about it too much. I’m about to tell you! Just not in this paragraph.
Will I tell you in this paragraph? Hmm – this could go either way, couldn’t it? Feel the tension build! No, I’m not going to. Read the next paragraph instead.
Any devotee of the HYWTH method is aiming to attain the ultimate status – to enter ‘Haterdise’. [This is kind of a play on the word ‘paradise’, but with the word ‘hate’ used instead of the word ‘para’. I also employ a letter ‘r’ because it makes it easier to read.] Haterdise is the HYWTH equivalent of ‘Nirvana’, the Buddhist [sick] notion of achieving ultimate peace through being in a successful musical group.
When one gains entry to Haterdise, all the hate that has ever existed in the world, and all the potential hate that has ever existed, is available at one moment. Every single thing – object, person, animal, notion, gas, etc – has its hatefulness exposed, glaring and open, for the Haterdise resident to resent.
In Haterdise, true happiness is the knowledge that you were right all along. We may see glimpses of this knowledge in our everyday lives, but in Haterdise, all the awfulness of existence is on proud display.
It is truly a wonderful state, and one that we should all be aiming to achieve.
But you will need to practise.
Hate of grace
Anthony.
posted by Anthony @ 3:11 pm
8 comments
8 Comments:
I shall begin my practice by first hating the time it is taking to compose this response. Few of our moronic sisters (the word “sisters” naturally includes both men and women and is used for the sake of convention and convenience. For the purposes of this article, the reader is encouraged to think of the words “sister” and “sisterhood” as inclusive concepts. Absolutely no slight is intended toward those who identify themselves by the narrow interpretations implied by such words as “brother,” “lesbian,” [oh dear, what is the male version of “lesbian”? Could it be that men who act on their sexual interests in other males lack their own, gender-specific identity? The outrage! The injustice!] “transgender”—or—clearly—I have strayed onto a playground outside my own neighborhood. Readers wishing to expose themselves to a broader vocabulary may go here
AS I was saying, few of our moronic sisters (see above) appreciate the factors that must enter into the formulation of a carefully crafted, coherent response. I shall begin with that statement. Of fact.
Next, I shall return to that delightful Website just mentioned and begin...ah, studying. It is obvious that an entirely new world is lying right in front of me. Waiting to be swirled, sniffed, and tasted. Ready for the taking. Legs spread wide open, one might say. Oh, my. I fear I have been unalterably distracted and must come away now, having discovered some sort of "spill" in a very conspicuous area of my pants.
what i really hate is when you don't post very often.
I might not know much about a woman. But I know how many goats can't fit up one.
It's an Argentinean thing you see?
I, of course, cannot. I am also dead, which is a teensy bitty draggy wag.
Still, you've got to look on the bright side. Or, in my case, feel the bright side, which I do and its tastes like velour.
Okey dokey kids. I’m busy now. Penning a trope de force labyrinthesque mathuevus. You know what I mean.
Cheers
Jorge.
i do not know how many goats can't fit up a woman. is this a dead thing?
do you hate not knowing?
because that is key here.
Okey
Hi there US reader.
or are you us reader? This latter is more up my alley. Up my labyrinth actually, with myself writing myself into my alley and out of a maze. and feeling my moist walls. I gots to feel. I can't see you see? I cannot.
And back to you (or us). Even when you don't know, you brag about it.
I love that part of you US people.
I also love the wrinkly elbowy part of us (Argentina is part of us, but not US. We are americ but not so untied you see? (you know that i cannot)).
So hit us with more of the thiings you don't know.
I for one revel in your ignorance.
which is not so bad you know as i am just a long part dead now. And I for two for the show and for three to get ready go cat go.
and, ok, so rub it in. I don't see so well.
(i sneeze at the cat)
jorge luis borges, yes, the us people are well-known for their bragging. they cannot help it, they do not know any other way.
and some of them really hate that, which is what one would really hope for in this blog of haterdise.
as to matter concerning the moist walls which define your unseeing travels through the labyrinth of a dead goat woman, alas, i cannot help.
as for my ignorance, yes, there is much here which likely passes my understanding but i am content with having fun with the words, thank you.
crap. another good blog gone. i hate it when that happens.
dang. i don't want to un-bookmark you. post, please. u r funny even if sr. borges prefers the wrinkly elbow of Argentina more than the untied US reader it is not a problem as he remains free to crawl blindly through moist labyrinths and hating the fact that the dead goats he was hoping to stuff have long since rotted.
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