Tuesday, July 29, 2014

A Letter to Those in the Know By God



Dear little creatures,

By now, you will no doubt have discovered the flagellum, and realized the Truth of My Existence. It is now time for Me to reveal Myself. Congratulations—you are the first or second generation to live in awe of the certainty of My Being. This must certainly be a heady time for you.

You might all be asking yourselves, why would a God who has adhered to the laws of nature in all his works (gravity still doing its thing? I love how all that stuff sticks together) suddenly reveal Himself to be clearly throwing miracles willy-nilly when it comes to these microscopic cell whips? I guess I just figured that once you guys developed enough of an interest in microscopic things, you’d be of a maturity level to deal with the Wonder of My Message.

Also, I tried to talk to you all through prophets and commandments a while back, and you just ignored the Message, and killed the Messengers. So I figured, stick an incontrovertible miracle in the flagella, and check back when they’ve discovered them.

Now that you’re ready, here’s my message: Stop having abortions, but kill all those jerks on death row. They may be the least of your brothers, but that was Jesus’ saw, not mine. (The kid’s got a problem with capital punishment, don’t ask me why.) Also, war is cool. Don’t let anyone push you around.

Lastly, I want you all to know that we’ve done away with the Holy Spirit. There are some of you who debate the Divinity of Jesus, and even some (prior to the discovery of the Flagellum, of course) who debated My Existence, but have you ever gotten into a philosophical discussion about the Holy Spirit? Hey, I love St. Patrick, but the Holy Ghost just wasn’t pulling His end of the Holy Trinity. Just kept flitting about the Holy City going “Wooooo! Whoo! I’m the Holy Spirit!” Had to downsize. From now on it’s just Father and Son, like a family business.

And most of all, remember how much I love you. I may have kept silent during all your wars, genocides and natural disasters, but that wasn’t because I was trying to be all mysterious, somehow too great for you to comprehend. I was just waiting for you to discover the flagellum, so we could have this little talk. Don’t forget how vast My love and benevolence is, because if you do, I’m going to have you tortured in ways far crueler than your tiny imaginations can conceive of, forever.

Love,

God

--Dan Kilian
 

Sunday 11:17 P.M.

Sweet Nothings

 

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

The True Story of Godzilla



Surprisingly, it was not a Japanese man but a French scientist, Joseph Fourier, who was the first to warn of a giant monster who threatened the earth back in 1824. A Swedish scientist, Svante Arrhenius, posited in 1896 that warming temperatures caused by human activities would melt the ice caps, freeing any giant monsters previously trapped there. His theory was dismissed by his colleagues for decades, as they continued to focus on the dangers of the Loch Ness Monster. 

A British engineer named Guy Callendar renewed research on the giant monsters in 1938 but was widely dismissed. It was assumed that should any giant monsters arise from the Arctic Circle, they would surely fight each other and in their self-destruction spare the earth. Also, it was concluded that the mighty oceans would drown almost all of the giant monsters. 

In 1958, measurements taken in Hawaii and Antarctica proved that monsters were stirring.

It was not Godzilla but rather Mothra who made the first publicly acknowledged appearance on the world stage, followed soon by The Smog Monster. An antimonster act was passed in the United States in 1963, but it was not sufficient to destroy these toxic creatures. 

In 1965, a US presidential advisory committee warned that that giant monsters were a matter of "real concern.” President Johnson noted his concern as well, then went back to planning bombing missions in Vietnam. Finally, when Mothra set the Cuyahoga River on fire, stronger antimonster legislation was passed un President Nixon, and after a succession of increasingly strict laws over the years, Mothra and the Smog Monster were dissuaded from attacking the United States and now reside somewhere in China. 

US scientist Wallace Broecker was the first to use the term “Godzilla,” in 1975, even though the Japanese had been making movies about the giant monster since 1954. They called him “Gojira,” but evidently Western people don’t know how to say “Gojira.”

Sightings of the monster became more frequent. In 1989 UK Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher called for a global treaty to deal with Godzilla. Nothing was signed, but more studies were called for. 

Finally, in 1997 a protocol was established that all developed nations must fight the giant monster. The US Senate refused to ratify it. “It’ll cost US jobs,” said Senate minority leader Tom Daschle. “Also, what about the Loch Ness Monster?” 

To this day, the United States ignores the obvious truth that Godzilla and other giant monsters are rampaging all over the planet. Al Gore made a movie that has footage of Godzilla eating buildings and devouring entire shorelines, but he lost an election to a mentally disturbed idiot, so everyone just made fun of him. Now it has become common for politicians to deny that Godzilla exists.

Meanwhile, wholesale destruction has been visited upon the city of New York and along the Jersey shore. New Orleans has been all but destroyed. Fires plague California and the entire western US. Are they all from the fiery breath of Godzilla? Maybe not all, but all this destruction is what we have to look forward to if we don’t address the reality that a giant monster is attacking us as payback for our hubris, as well as our burning of fossil fuels. 

Given the history, research, and documentation of the existence of Godzilla, it is time to act, before he attacks again. Anyone who refuses to see a giant monster cannot be fit to hold a seat of power. Giant monsters are not the stuff of myth. They must be dealt with. 

Oh, and the new movie is a nice try, but it’s fairly boring. 

--Dan Kilian

Godzilla's Ghost


Micky Rourke as Godzilla 

Friday, May 30, 2014

Moments Before Collapse

Only three of the spheres remain, each strapped to the chest of a trusted runner.  They should be close to their objectives by now.  I can't begin to imagine what they're moving through. 

Before I fell I saw that the battle had devolved into thousands upon thousands of episodes of single combat.  Weapons of steel and bone were continuously raised and brought down over a field gone to bloody mud from a series of pointless advances and retreats.  I now lie under bodies stacked three deep in places.  I can feel the men fighting above, and hear their screams as viscera are torn free and their life-fluids gush forth, filtering through the dead to me.  I can taste their last meals;  theirs will be mine. 

The time has come.  I crush the detonator ampoules, the glass cutting the palms of my hands.  The initial shockwave lifts the mantle of bodies and I can take a full breath for the first time in hours.  A splintered rib pierces my lung.  I can see the blue light of the blast through the tangle of limbs and weapons and savaged faces.  My eardrums rupture and the world becomes an endless shrieking hiss.  The bodies above me disintegrate, and in a fraction of a second I am exhumed.

I lie in a pool of gore, watching the clouds receded above me, the expanding radius of the blastwave soap-bubble thin at this distance.  It is beautiful, gossamer, fly's-wing fragile until it hits solid matter.  The sky goes dark as the atmosphere is consumed and light itself is converted into fuel for the expanding devastation.  I wonder when the wavefront will die, and how long after that will it take for the walls of air to collapse back into the void we have left. 

My short blade is still sheathed at my side.  I have a few moments – I could cut my own throat with a little effort.  It might be the right thing to do. 

Stars begin to appear overhead.  

--Steve Kilian

Top Trek: A Pan Fiction!


Pupa

 

Thursday, April 3, 2014

My Mask

I made a mask out of walnut shells and glue and two gloves and whole box of paperclips and when I wear it I am invisible and nobody can hurt me or anyone I care about and if they try I come out of the clouds like a peal of thunder and knock them down even if their tray is full and the milk goes all over the floor and they won't even get a new plate because I will holler so loud that they will close the shutter down over the lunch line and everyone will know that I am cross and that what they did was bad and that's why they got what they deserved and if they try it again I will close my fist and punch them in the stomach and not care if I get in trouble and if they still don't stop then I furrow my brow and give them such a powerblast with all of my anger and sadness and fear and the thought of everyone's mother choking on the breathing tube and turning blue and then they're just a wet shadow in the sand and I'm holding their empty coat with a Matchbox in the pocket that's not theirs anymore

--Steve Kilian

Apocrypha 2: Joseph in the North

Russian Roulette on Meth 

Friday, March 14, 2014

Best Intellectual Jokes



These jokes have been culled from the smartest corners of the internet, as well as MIT and Harvard Science forums. Only the brightest will get them, so if you’re not amused, it’s probably because you’re fucking retarded.

An intellectual’s wife tells him: “Run to the store and pick up a loaf of bread. If they have eggs, get a dozen.” He goes out, gets drunk, and fucks a prostitute.


Q: How many intellectuals does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Photons or something.


Three intellectuals walk into a bar. Bartender says do you all want a drink? They’re like “fucking of course, we just walked into a bar.”



A Buddhist monk approaches a hotdog stand and says “Are you a Hindu? I fucking hate Hindus.”



An intellectual was fucking a cat in the middle of the street. When people noticed him, he said, “Hey! I’m fucking Schrodinger’s cat! Or AM I?”


An engineer, a chemist, and an economist are fucking this whore. The Engineer says “I’ll fuck her in the ass. The chemist says “I’ll fuck her in the mouth.” The economist says “Let’s slit her throat.”


Two intellectuals walk into a bar. One says “I bet I can take a crap on the bar and the bartender will just laugh!” The other says “You’re on!” so the first intellectual jumps up on a stool and takes a huge dump on the bar. The bartender says “What the fuck!” and grabs a bat and comes for him. As they’re running away, the first intellectual says “Well I thought it was funny!” 

--Dan Kilian 

Fab Facts about The Beatles Rock Band Game

Adventures in Solitaire

 



 

Thursday, March 6, 2014

The training of a Grelladin Swordsman

The training of a Grelladin swordsman traditionally includes the use of sloar-beast bladders, of which only the seventh and ninth are used.  The others are too small* or, in the case of the fifth, sacred and as such reserved for the High Rituals. 

The bladders are carefully extracted and sealed shut with a small morsel of turtle flesh within them.  As the flesh rots it releases various gases which fill the bladder and inflate it to several times its normal size.  These gases are lighter than air, causing the bladder to float.  Depending on the age, diet, and health of the sloar-beast from which the bladders are harvested, the inflated organ will exhibit various hues – purple, red, yellow, even blue or green. 

The bladders are tethered to weights which secure them to the training floor so they are not carried away into the sky.  Trainees then strike the bladders with their blades.  The tethers are flexible enough and the bladders tough enough that a glancing blow will merely push them aside, bringing great shame to the trainee.

*It is a common misconception that the first through fourth bladders of the sloar-beast are quite large, as the battle-displays of the enraged sloar involve what appear to be greatly inflated bladders along the creature's ventral line.  However, closer anatomical study shows that it is actually the first through fourth penises which are inflated in such displays.  The bladders associated with these penises are actually quite small in the adult sloar, having shrunk to a vestigial state by the third molting.  The eighth bladder and its attendant penis are too horrible to discuss. 












--Steve Kilian

Gorland

The Blue Lion