XPost: alt.gossip.celebrities, alt.magick.chaos, alt.buddha.short.fat.guy   
   XPost: alt.dreams.castaneda   
   From: fkepler@att.net   
      
   Wally Chapman wrote:   
   > fred kepler wrote:   
   >   
   >   
   >> Hey Loon-bucket,   
   >>   
   >> How would your reverse-vibrational, conjugate-aura, matrix-wave-   
   >> guide, bizarro, alt.universe astrology deal with this self-trining   
   >> statement: "My Venus is rising in Uranus"?   
   >>   
   >> I'll bet you and your friends on Luna Saffron-8 hadn't even considered   
   >> that possibility, had you?  Stick that in your chart and see what   
   >> happens when Aquarius eclipses the  Year of the Studebaker (cf.   
   >> Tralfamadorian Zodiac.)   
   >>   
   >> And don't show yer scabrous face around here until you've got at least   
   >> one of the (n+1)^(∞-π) possible answers--not just mumbo-jumbo, you   
   >> flammer of flim.   
   >   
   > Aw, lighten up, fred.  It was inevitable that when someone suggested   
   > hiring astrologers to figure out global warming, one of them would show   
   > up here.  See, when you mention something it causes a disruption in the   
   > time/space continuum, a void in the void, if you will, or won't, both   
   > are valid and, indeed, quite tasty in some ways, filled with holes like   
   > a great Swiss cheese of a burning vehicle, limpid in the languid light,   
   > flames leaping up like frightened mongeese and lapping at the soft   
   > underbelly of the cosmos, whose succulent nipples are bigger than both   
   > of us and nearly as fulgent, cool blue in the orgone box as the dripper   
   > slowly fills, blood and shit mixed into a screaming fireball of pure   
   > insect lust that echoes down the universal hallway like a can of worms   
   > being opened too late, the cat waiting with bated breath for Blake to   
   > finish, some born to sweet delight, others pickled in roses where they   
   > lay in sainted silence, bound only by the Saganarian posit of inner   
   > calm, or clam, kissing hands and shaking babies in a death dance to the   
   > muted strains of the mouctal music, zombies with flutes and waiters with   
   > wood pecker eyes, all is vanity and glee and perlue and ten cents off,   
   > just tear off the top of your neighborhood grocer and set your laser   
   > printer to "stun" so that the energy cycle will collapse into a heap at   
   > your feet, thus proving that the cosmos does, indeed, implode when tickled.   
   >   
   > Wally   
      
   Who you callin' fulgent?   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)