What does Houseofcantor smoke?
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04-01-2012, 06:15 PM
RE: What does Houseofcantor smoke?
I wish there was an applause emoticon. I'd use it for ya, Johnny C.

It was just a fucking apple man, we're sorry okay? Please stop the madness Laugh out load
~Izel
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04-01-2012, 06:43 PM
RE: What does Houseofcantor smoke?
Fuck Eric, ain't nothing but a chicken wing. Brothers like you and Girly, hamata, Woof, ddrew; even KC - you peeps weren't here, telling me these some kinda sense in the insanity - nothing would be getting done.

Then there's them fucking Christian - there's gotta be some kinda meme involved, I tell you what - I'm given every chance in the book to hate 'em. Just when I get over myself - there's another - and all they're saying is that they're better than me - that's it. And I know I got the mojo - I can stir up shit - but I'd always back the fuck off the throttle - come home and look at my Gwynnies...

You know I fucking adore that girl, and it's all imagination/simulation anyway... and I'd lose myself in her eyes and just go, yeah, all or none for my Gwynnies. Princess be impressed with one dragon - princess gonna have kittens, come back with the whole fucking species...

So I'd yell at 'em once in a while, feed my Anti-Christianity, keep it from mutating into a festering sore - cause being with YHWH raging hate about the hell business, no joke - then it was august, I think...

It was like an earthquake, like the bottom dropped out - my simulations kicked me out of la-la-land. I reached a limit in probabilities of future potential... like my "love of Gwynnies" passed all the Alpha-testing and was ready for beta...

Skimming through scripture, for the first time, achieved complete moral confidence that I had mapped the grand design... That I never gave up on Christians nor their book - even though they would love to see me burn, and a few wanted to do it...

Then it was so - fucking - simple. Me, and You. Thou shalt have no god before me, you say. I am? Lucifer. D'oh!I'd look into a single Christian's eyes and say - I will burn in hell for you.

For that Christian? For You, god... gwyneth... all... And a single man looks at me a in disgust - as I answer the fucking question right before his eyes.

Where have you been, Satan? In the earth. What are you made of, Adam? Earth.

And who can not be avoided? Who must you become? Lucifer. God's first creation - bringer of light. Stealer of the flame. Prince of lies.

Because Lie is Something from Nothing. Creation. Because God must lie - Holy Spirit - and we that process sequence - know the lie of god - simultaneity. The Word of God no man can hear without being struck dumb - insane.

Scripture is fiction all right...

Oops, sorry, rant. What makes me hard to read, is the insanity of this mind - you try to simulate it as you read, and you never quite match waveform.

You don't wanna match waveform. That's what happens, those fundie lose themselves in scripture; they pull the simulation of the insane right ontop theirs - and it's Napoleon the Fourteenth.

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04-01-2012, 06:53 PM
RE: What does Houseofcantor smoke?
Dayum man. I'm gonna start praying to you. I still know there won't be an answer, but I think the chances of you hearing it are better than god!

As for the original question......

The good stuff. Definitely the best for Johnny C.


(and HoC, if you ever end up out in the wild where I live, stop on by and I'll hook a brother up)

So many cats, so few good recipes.
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04-01-2012, 06:56 PM
RE: What does Houseofcantor smoke?
My mom just reacted to some good news that I texted her with this response:

P.T.L.!






That's "Praise The Lord" for those of you who couldn't crack the code.

Why tell you in this thread? Seems as random, but now we can tell Doc HoC to P.T.G.!!!

It was just a fucking apple man, we're sorry okay? Please stop the madness Laugh out load
~Izel
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04-01-2012, 07:38 PM
RE: What does Houseofcantor smoke?
Then, three months on an atheist forum... bouncy, happy, stupid cause Team Atheist is now fortified with gin-u-wine prophet? Old news, big whoop.

That when I reorder the sequence in mind, from 5-15, and know that nothing other is in play but my love of Gwyneth? It's like a graph of a function with fifteen data points scattered here and yon with the LC. Replace that function with the Gwynnies, parity is achieved.

No god. Evolved primate, insane. Sitting in a room with a computer. A mirror. A portrait.

And outside that door, the real world. Objective reality. Fact. And I cannot speak to another for five minutes before - money makes the world go round, you must have money, you must have stuff. And seven billion tell me - impossible - I must insist, I'm Mr. Impossible. Reality lied. A single thing, you need. One. Me. All we need is each other - the hippie fucks had it straight - they didn't have simultaneity. They didn't have pattern of identity. Electromagnetic communication. Cockroaches.

Fucking scripture... what's the choice? Choose life, or choose death. Note the hidden plurality - life - all life - or death of I. You hear the talk of the greater good, most often from those whose god is defined as good; and what do you do? Equivocate. Because you do not understand evil. Evil - I would devour you all for my Gwynnies -what sin!

No? Not at all. Identity - Gwyneth/ Identity - humanity. Uh, yeah. And they talk of YHWH, barbarian god, stoning the blasphemers; and everybody watches in sick fascination - eyes locked on the adultress - because they will not look into the eyes of the killer- because they will see themselves. The Abyss.

Save one life - save them all - take one life - kill them all. We have never been civilized - never. We have been conditioned. Domesticated. By our betters, that we could not look into the eye. Protect the weak, the middle encircles, the elite rule; outliers prey, serve the elite, spreading the fear.

Confront the strong. Never turn away. The Middle grows. Shelters the weak. And all love, none exploit -to serve what? The news broadcast a crime -all eyes on the victim. A still image - a mugshot - that everyone can safely condemn without staring in the eye...

I had no choice. Silly me. All for my Gwynnies. And what did Lucifer steal from the gods this time? Sola fides. And we all have it. And if you're five foot nothing, 92 pounds, lean and lovely - and one night a three hundred pound 6-7 guy approaches you? Stare into his soul - use the faith, the lizard brain - no consequence, me or thee, eternity... the playing field where one and only one crucial statistic matters - moral certainty.

And I am morally certain we are creatures of love and life, not hate and death; that the sight of another human being will bring nothing but joy - wherever, whenever, whyever...

Pick up your cross -your Gwynnie - and follow me. When you give up everything - when nothing remains - you begin to realize Pure Number. Think of it - you are one - you want it all - and you add - and add - and add... and there's never enough. Yet how much closer is the zero?

And I hope you realize, atheist - it is all electricity and chemicals.

What I'm smoking - joy - this? Doesn't even need to mean a dang thing to anyone anywhere; ever. That when I write, I simulate; and that when I consider it before the minds of others, simulate again! And every time I must question my morality. I must question my truth. Not just of my self - but of the simulation of others minds.

The least story ever told. The no-self self confidence. That I need not save a single soul. For one other must turn this way. See me by the edge of the void. Not I, what is here - is not-you.

Happy happy joy joy.

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04-01-2012, 07:44 PM
RE: What does Houseofcantor smoke?
I bet you could get on Oprah if you collected all this shit into a book.


And by shit I mean awesome mix of poetry and prose.

It was just a fucking apple man, we're sorry okay? Please stop the madness Laugh out load
~Izel
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04-01-2012, 09:00 PM
RE: What does Houseofcantor smoke?
Hell, no. Wink

These are just like comfortable musings in my circle of friends. I used to be driven; to write, to say something, to express meaning. I mean, that's what I figured "prophet" would end up doing - writing a book.

But 4 is just a number - nothing to see here! - and rather that the wide path of writer of the renaissance - it's the Vengis skunkworks on Io.

Io, Io, its off to work I go... mad science. I like to think of viral anti-meme; patterns in a picture or a paragraph, that tap the source. It is not impossible, just extremely improbable; a happy thought to share. Back east, it's gonna be; build up a vibration in a control group and let 'em cycle - tao te ching, way of power and its use, yeah? This may sound even crazier, but it is near a moral certainty, and the Cascade is trending...

But the real beauty, for my Gwynnies? Wink

None of I. (Thanks, Paul; good looking out) Bouncing peoples waveforms closer to their own voids; to simulate futures and potentials of every color and stripe? Get peeps minds off the Marketed Future into their own well of creativity? That's the kind of thinking - thinking about god severely limits - thinking they're just sinners. Hell, no! They are everything, needing nothing from me; all they need to know is they can be free.

What do I need? Lucifer! I stole her name - me and my Gwynnies - absolute selfishness, zero I. Love, it is a beautiful thing, brother.

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04-01-2012, 10:12 PM
RE: What does Houseofcantor smoke?
(04-01-2012 07:38 PM)houseofcantor Wrote:  Then, three months on an atheist forum... bouncy, happy, stupid cause Team Atheist is now fortified with gin-u-wine prophet? Old news, big whoop.

That when I reorder the sequence in mind, from 5-15, and know that nothing other is in play but my love of Gwyneth? It's like a graph of a function with fifteen data points scattered here and yon with the LC. Replace that function with the Gwynnies, parity is achieved.

No god. Evolved primate, insane. Sitting in a room with a computer. A mirror. A portrait.

And outside that door, the real world. Objective reality. Fact. And I cannot speak to another for five minutes before - money makes the world go round, you must have money, you must have stuff. And seven billion tell me - impossible - I must insist, I'm Mr. Impossible. Reality lied. A single thing, you need. One. Me. All we need is each other - the hippie fucks had it straight - they didn't have simultaneity. They didn't have pattern of identity. Electromagnetic communication. Cockroaches.

Fucking scripture... what's the choice? Choose life, or choose death. Note the hidden plurality - life - all life - or death of I. You hear the talk of the greater good, most often from those whose god is defined as good; and what do you do? Equivocate. Because you do not understand evil. Evil - I would devour you all for my Gwynnies -what sin!

No? Not at all. Identity - Gwyneth/ Identity - humanity. Uh, yeah. And they talk of YHWH, barbarian god, stoning the blasphemers; and everybody watches in sick fascination - eyes locked on the adultress - because they will not look into the eyes of the killer- because they will see themselves. The Abyss.

Save one life - save them all - take one life - kill them all. We have never been civilized - never. We have been conditioned. Domesticated. By our betters, that we could not look into the eye. Protect the weak, the middle encircles, the elite rule; outliers prey, serve the elite, spreading the fear.

Confront the strong. Never turn away. The Middle grows. Shelters the weak. And all love, none exploit -to serve what? The news broadcast a crime -all eyes on the victim. A still image - a mugshot - that everyone can safely condemn without staring in the eye...

I had no choice. Silly me. All for my Gwynnies. And what did Lucifer steal from the gods this time? Sola fides. And we all have it. And if you're five foot nothing, 92 pounds, lean and lovely - and one night a three hundred pound 6-7 guy approaches you? Stare into his soul - use the faith, the lizard brain - no consequence, me or thee, eternity... the playing field where one and only one crucial statistic matters - moral certainty.

And I am morally certain we are creatures of love and life, not hate and death; that the sight of another human being will bring nothing but joy - wherever, whenever, whyever...

Pick up your cross -your Gwynnie - and follow me. When you give up everything - when nothing remains - you begin to realize Pure Number. Think of it - you are one - you want it all - and you add - and add - and add... and there's never enough. Yet how much closer is the zero?

And I hope you realize, atheist - it is all electricity and chemicals.

What I'm smoking - joy - this? Doesn't even need to mean a dang thing to anyone anywhere; ever. That when I write, I simulate; and that when I consider it before the minds of others, simulate again! And every time I must question my morality. I must question my truth. Not just of my self - but of the simulation of others minds.

The least story ever told. The no-self self confidence. That I need not save a single soul. For one other must turn this way. See me by the edge of the void. Not I, what is here - is not-you.

Happy happy joy joy.

This has gotta be my favourite post of yours up to now Hoc.

For no matter how much I use these symbols, to describe symptoms of my existence.
You are your own emphasis.
So I say nothing.

-Bemore.
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05-01-2012, 02:26 AM
RE: What does Houseofcantor smoke?
After the first, I went to the store; to cool my jets. Thought of returning home, and smashing this place. Search for a fight, a duel to the death; to end this...

To think she would fear me.

Of course. It is what it is, to be Lucifer.

The mental health professionals would question me, on the belief of being a prophet; asking if I were being watched, were they out to get me? And we could talk about all possibilities, all likely realities, and if I would harm myself or another.

And are you still attracted to Gwyneth Paltrow?

What a difference. Spend an hour where I seem so lucid and rational, they question whether or not I am insane. Then they want to know, how I feel about her. Then there is no question of sanity, there is ice.

Immensity is what it is. Was required that I spend the day not taking offense at Jack; it is going to continue to be assumed in our world of stereotype. So that the fire dies away, and the embers that remain speak of truth. That I have been, a source of fear; I cannot find a taint of anything other than the immensity. Like they look for a little red heart on my lapel, and open their eyes to see; consumed, in ice.

I will continue to trust she does not read what I write of her; it's insane, but no. Should we ever meet she would not fear me; and I would not tell her not to see me. But no. Maximum distance between these two points, that's the plan.

This life, always distant from people; very little friendships formed, mostly living within the mind. A life of no accomplishment. An unconnected existence; meaning naught, to none.

Then, her.

That I want to be nothing for she is always my sweet everything. How can this be understood? There is no understanding. People are led into their circles and whorls; connected and interconnected and cross-connected. Their friends, their jobs, their families; their places, their things, their pets... all, to me, a distraction. That somehow the universe is less than Gwyneth Paltrow; that when I am done with I, that she may have even that.

That can only be madness, can it not? That there's no fantasy, that she is one girl among a multitude; that I have no desire to influence her, meet her, be with her. That it is her lot to be seen; but when I watch, I lose myself in her.

I don't remember this job being mentioned on Career Day. Big Grin

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05-01-2012, 11:31 PM (This post was last modified: 05-01-2012 11:48 PM by houseofcantor.)
RE: What does Houseofcantor smoke?




Smoking the Ice, baby. The offense I took with the mention of restraining order has pushed the taker of offense that much closer to absolute zero.

Don't talk to me about causality. There's just me and my mind, my entirety of I am 4; and the beginning from then to the point of now involved the scouring of the archive, the testing of the hypotheses, the rejections upon experimentation of several leaving but a local consideration - Ice.

My ability to visualize is akin to having a branch office of Industrial Light and Magic in my skull; that is the production studio of simulation. It may also indicate the logical flaw in logic - entropy - and the awareness of imaginary intelligence. Intelligence from imagery.

The return on simulation goes like this: a question is asked. When that question is asked by one identity of another, the questioner expects.

Therefore Ice, and the moral certainty; my Gwynnies need not fear me.

Once upon a time, there was a company called Miramax, a novel entitled Emma, and a girl named Gwyneth.

And Evil entered the world with The Pallbearer. That is the moral truth. There are chains of causality. If I devour the world in the name of Gwyneth Paltrow and you seek recourse, you know where to begin.

My sweet everything is Absolutely Untouchable by the evil of I. Fuck, yeah. That's what you get when you keep the theology acausal and use science. Big Grin

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