What if Forensics finds the Answer to our corporate crime scene? Will the real honest truth be published without having to consult our RSS savvy goddess?

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Dear Sirs and Gentlewomen,

We here at the nonsense factory are proud to present our newest product! We are producing the cure for the common man by the thousands and we are happily taking new orders every day! You should see our factory floor! We’re just so happy to be a part of this fantastic process that we have decided to sell our product for an amazing profit! We’re doing our part to help keep under-appreciated brazilian families in the streets that they so diligently grew up in. So hop on board partner as we make sure to suit your every need as our loving costumer, so long that you keep us happy with your continued adherence to the status quo.

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Hobottom looked up from the blocky lettering on the half empty pill bottle fixing his view on the masking tape outline surrounding the former resting place of a filing cabinet.

"They took it all out?"

"Yep filed in like a bunch of marines and took the damn things out. I put down the tape just to make sure I remembered what was even here before they got here. There doesn’t seem to be a whole hellava lot left to look at."

"Yeah I know. I’m used to that by now"

Hobottom got up from his knee and patted his pockets.  Pulling out a sleek white cylinder and

"You smoke?"

"No, sorry."

Flame.

Cloud.

Darkness.

Nothing.

A breath touches his lungs.

"Maybe we’re not ready to find out yet."

The truth is right behind your bed.

Thrilling cascades of information making their way down your head.

You gamble your debts and then you’re dead.
Fred said…

This sacred rite was always uttered as the young learners stepped though the smoky jungle entrance into the temple of forgiveness. Rushing, monkey arms flailing through the entrance hallway, feverishly gnashing at their former self images.

Mirror Ridges.

Lighting Bolt Landscapes.

Truly a work of an accidental Mindfuck.

This is exactly what is happening.

Contemplation of utter nothingness, the state of existence without consciousness of any kind, the big switch in the off position, forever.

All experience is the reflection of the mind onto its surroundings. Memories are altered and disintegrate, lessons lost. Headaches that make teeth chatter and cause you to shiver, before you black out and wake up in bed with someone you don’t know, namely yourself.

The destruction of all boundaries and definition, all applied meaning shattered like glass at the scene of a car wreck, bloodstained.

Are you the warrior? Do you walk the thin line between the utmost clarity and total derangement? Don’t forget to use the spear you’re carrying; sometimes you’ll have to.

You’d better take a handfull of Earth and get a good whiff, because you’ll be dead before you get a chance to even put it back down. The most powerful source of wisdom is uncertainty.

Never say no.

Never say no unless you are saying “Fuck No!” and knocking out teeth. It’s a move we all have to make sometimes, and if you let the moment pass you’ll be weaker for it.

Our Policy of Truth is one of utmost importance. In fact it is our Prime Directive to always be 100% completely honest with all life-forms we ever encounter and/or communicate with. This policy will always be followed to the letter by every member of this organization at all times. Bear that in mind when you have dealings with us.

We’ve moved, yes we have!
We here at The Honest Book of Truth don’t like to be beholden to anybody’s rules, so we’ve given Blogger old heave-ho and now we’re out on our own. As I’m sure you already know our new address is http://www.grazingchaos.org. I hope everyone likes what we’ve done with the place. Everything seems to be working fine, so change your bookmarks and tell all your friends the news.

And now for the inaugural dead baby joke:

What’s the difference between a pile of dead babies and a Jeep Grand Cherokee?

I don’t have a Jeep Grand Cherokee in my garage!

Anthrax out!