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Not Quite Dead Motherfathers!

September 11, 2008

Last March gamma ray burst almost got me but you’re gonna need MUCH more than just that!

He he he.

OK – I was far out in deep space saving another world (booze, speedy UFOs, sexy aliens and the rest of it), when I got an emergency call from Earth. Things are going straight to hell, I was told. My intervention to speed things up was desperately needed, they said. A series of physical destructions together with a mix of political shit made the atmosphere heavy like lead, the report wrote. I had to wear my Intergalactic Blue Helmet uniform, kiss all five pairs of hot lips (aaaahhhhhh – she’s a dream) of my alien fiance, get in my super-whoa spaceship AND GET MY ASS OVER HERE!

So, here I am earthlings. What’s the problem this time?

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Game Over

November 25, 2007

That’s all folks. Shooting Stars is over.

I just can’t (or don’t want to) write anything anymore. That has been fairly obvious for the past months but anyway I thought that a decent goodbye was the least and last thing I should do to close the circle.

Anyway, thank everyone that came through this pages interested in what I wrote. Hope you enjoyed the ride. As childish or stupid it may sound, I feel the need to state that with some of you -people that I’ll never actually see or touch- I have felt much closer than with most people that I see everyday.

…Whatever

I have no advice for your lives. Just a wish. Hope you Smile.

Bye

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Hocus Pocus

October 14, 2007

Haven’t been around for some time now. That is because I lost my direction in this electronic calendar. That is because the same applies to most of the other magnetic fields that consist my life which is great thank you.

I’m not good in preserving relationships. That is apparent. Maybe it’s a short circuit in the contemporary part of my mind. The way I experience a more general problem in today’s human condition that is apt to sociology scientists to research. Or maybe I’m simply full of hocus pocus, which is quite contemporary too.

In fact I logged in today just to write a farewell post but I’m failing in that one too. Hell, I just can’t kill it. I have no idea where to lead this thing and absolutely no clue as to what to write about, but I just cannot close it down.

So, being as it is, maybe I should call this place “broken compass” or something like that and just write whatever it comes to my mind.

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Who Is Burning Greece?

September 6, 2007

I thought that it were the usual land perpetrators but I was dead wrong. People with better intuition than mine have been connecting the dots in a much better way:

Here is the story.

(The article in Greek is here).

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Ever Considered Us As A Disease?

September 1, 2007
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How Money Is Created?

August 20, 2007

Has been some time since I last posted but I believe this video digged in one of my rare net surfing sessions is certainly worth watching.

(via)

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The Sold And The Fuckenful (Episode VIII)

July 26, 2007

fuckenful8.jpg
“Planet is fine. Gaia will do just fine without you. She’s not ill. Your whole point of view is as usually myopic and self-centered. Your species doesn’t “destroy” her. You are just triggering your own destruction. Gaia has just decided that she had enough of you. She’s moving on, giving the keys to another species.”

The Eerie voice, was coming from all over the space. Boinjk looked around but saw nothing but pitch black.

“What the fucking deer is going on?” An old voice went. A match gradually shed its light onto the hand holding it, the man where the hand was attached to, a goat, Boinjk and finally at a green dungeon which hosted all three. “Would anyone please be kind enough to explain to me what is going on?” Santa Claus – the owner of the hand, the match and the old voice – went on.

Boinjk checked at his goat the way a reader checks a Sunday newspaper for its special offers – full of anticipation for a documentary DVD that might explain why the heck he is doomed to crawl on this planet or a porno movie that would make his crawling less torturous. His anticipation was met by a sweet “beee ee” which was close to Sunday papers offers but left many questions unanswered.

Match went out and dungeon got pitch black again.

Santa had no answer to questions such as why he was shot down, why a pile of ants went after them, what was that ray that pulled them up, where it was that “up” and who his companions were. He decided to begin unraveling the mystery.
“Who are you ?” Question was for Boinjk and his goat but the Eerie voice took it personally and filled the space once more.

“I’m not one. We are the Ancients. Keeping an eye on the verse. We are to make sure that play is acted right.”

Since Santa was at least getting a reply he went on. “Where are we, what do you want from us?”

“You are in the center of Gaia. You are part of the play. You have a role to play.”

“What play is that? What roles?”

“The play to be. The roles you are.”

Santa was more confused than when trying to read all these equations he was given to deliver to a man generally known as Albert Einstein. He lit another match hoping to see some reassurance in his strange companion and his goat. Light went on its usual way – which is straight ahead – where it found Boinjk making love to the happiest goat at the center of Gaia.

(To Be Discontinued)