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by Astrolinium » Sun Sep 15, 2013 5:32 pm
by Nationstatelandsville » Sun Sep 15, 2013 5:41 pm
Astrolinium wrote:From Doctor Who TV -- 10 September, 2020
Today we caught up with executive produce Jon LandsVille to talk about the new arrangement of the theme song that we'll be hearing come January. When asked, he said, "OH GOD, THE 80's! THE 80's ARE BACK!" and then promptly set a trash can on fire before running out of the room.
When questioned, composer Eli Manischewitz gave us an unmarked CD with this track on it.
by Astrolinium » Sun Sep 15, 2013 5:54 pm
by Nightkill the Emperor » Sun Sep 15, 2013 5:57 pm
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".
Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.
by Nationstatelandsville » Sun Sep 15, 2013 6:03 pm
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:New York Times, January 1st 2021
Every last copy of Catcher in the Rye was found burnt and destroyed. A. Crowley tweeted a gif of him laughing hysterically.
by Astrolinium » Sun Sep 15, 2013 6:04 pm
by Astrolinium » Sun Sep 15, 2013 6:16 pm
by Nationstatelandsville » Sun Sep 15, 2013 6:46 pm
by Nightkill the Emperor » Tue Oct 08, 2013 7:17 pm
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".
Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.
by Nightkill the Emperor » Wed Oct 09, 2013 4:55 pm
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".
Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.
by Nightkill the Emperor » Thu Oct 17, 2013 8:50 pm
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".
Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.
by Nightkill the Emperor » Wed Oct 23, 2013 7:36 pm
The Splitting of Hell
After the Abrahamic War, various diplomats from many nations of Earth gathered together, joined also by Aleister Crowley of Elfen High, the Archangel Raphael of Heavensgate and the demon Lord Alastor of his own domain in Hell. The diplomats discussed what to do with the lands of Hell - they agreed to give Dys and much of its surrounding areas to Alastor, deciding the demon would be able to do nothing with such destroyed land (something which they later turned out to be quite wrong about). They also gave the Hellenic population more land and more money to defend themselves with, seeing them as a bastion of civilisation in a barbaric Hell.
However, then came the matter of the humans dividing up land. America took the most, justifying it due to their large power on Earth, and the fact they contributed most to the war effort. France took second, as they had contributed the second most, followed by the United Kingdom, now a struggling power that was sticking to European affairs, thank you very much.
In these proceedings, Aleister Crowley had grabbed his head and moaned, also saying that the diplomats were being "bloody morons" and that "this is going to fuck you in a big way", before departing to his room to get whiskey.
(continued on next page)
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".
Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.
by Nightkill the Emperor » Thu Nov 21, 2013 8:56 pm
Recently, a comment made on the language that is a part of our identity, Demonic, left me in utter shock.
A friend of mine told me about an incident that took place with his sister, who’s an Demonic teacher for grade one and two in Grenja. A student, in one of her classes, was refusing to speak in Demonic during the period. When she asked him as to why he was being so difficult, his response was nothing less than shocking and disappointing.
"My mum told me that Demonic is a servant’s language!"
Please take a moment, sit back and let that phrase sink in.
A servant’s language?
Our mother tongue, the language that unites all the provinces, the language that was at the centre of the movement of our freedom, is a servant’s language?
The language that was used to bring about change and which is respected all over the world is now considered unspeakable by the Demon elite.
Infuriated with this remark, my friend’s sister requested a meeting with the child’s mother and, lo and behold, the audacity of the mother when confronted with this news was even more startling.
“Well, I will allow my son to speak in Demonic while in your class only, but you do realise that if my son is to get anywhere in this country, leave alone the world, he must be fluent in English. Demonic for him is not important, at all.”
I am ashamed of myself to admit this, but don’t you think she has a point?
I mean look at our job market. You might not know anything about the job but, if you can speak English, you’ll be preferred over the rest.
Let’s say you and another candidate have the same knowledge base, but you’re fluent in English and he’s not, who do you think will get the job?
Even on our so-called Demonic channels, we see the younger generation speaking in Engmonic – partial Demonic and a whole lot of English.
When I look at our nations, I notice the increasing importance given to English and the vilification of Demonic, and it begins with the mindset that you see in this particular case. The mother is adamant that without English, her child is going nowhere and achieving nothing.
I wonder who is to blame – ourselves as parents, humans, or the institutions that have shaped us this way?
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".
Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.
by Individuality-ness » Fri Dec 13, 2013 3:39 pm
ALPHA COCKS FOR THE WOMEN, FRIENDZONE FOR THE MEN, FEMINISM FOR EVERYBODY!
Everybody says there is this SEX problem. Everybody says this SEX problem will be solved when women pour into ALL of the men's spheres and ONLY into men's spheres.
The friendzone and creep-shaming are just as sexist to men as so-called "rape culture" and "slut-shaming" is for women, but nobody says that MEN should have a movement of their own to fight these wrongs.
Everybody says the final solution to this SEX problem is for EVERY men-only space and ONLY men-only spaces to “assimilate,” i.e., share spaces, with all those women.
What if I said there was this SEX problem and this SEX problem would be solved only if hundreds of millions of men were brought into EVERY women-only sphere and ONLY into women-only spheres?
How long would it take anyone to realize I’m not talking about a SEX problem. I am talking about the final solution to the WOMAN problem?
And how long would it take any sane woman to notice this and what kind of psycho woman wouldn't object to this?
But if I tell that obvious truth about the ongoing program of genocide against my sex, the male sex, Liberals and respectable conservatives agree that I am a misogynistwhowantstorapeallthembitches.
They say they are anti-sexist. What they are is anti-men.
Anti-sexist is a code word for anti-men.
by Nationstatelandsville » Wed Dec 18, 2013 7:46 pm
I sometimes wonder why I'm alive. Do I deserve to be anymore than my brother or my sister? No.
I was lucky.
"Hell" is not enough of a word for my life; and I did not live through the worst of it all. That was a burden for the less fortunate and it was they who, by soaking up the wrath of evil with their own lives, saved me. The angels pray to a God of love and forgiveness, but the demons pray to one of vengeance and anger. And who can blame them? They have suffered and can have no justice.
They lived as I did - in the crowded ghettos of Heavensgate. There were five families to what was in Heaven a one family home; parents and children crammed like packing peanuts into one room, stuffing more and more in until the walls burst. It was dirty, for there was no waste disposal and none of us had the energy to do it ourselves. It was cold, for all the wood shipped into this desert hell was taken by the angels - torn from our fires for their monuments and fine art, sometimes for no better reason than to watch us freeze. It was hungry, for we labored all day in the yawning mines and sweltering forges for naught but halfpennies. It was suffering, but we could not know pain; we weren't thinking creatures. We were "sulfies". We were "Satan's spawn". We were "beasts" and "animals" and "savages", but most of all, we were "demons". Who can stir up sympathy for such a hated name?
The adults bore it worst, the evolutionary stupidity that is parenthood driving them to commit slow suicide for the stomachs of their sons and daughters. My mother fell sick when I was young - the angels had cured her disease decades ago. A vaccination, a simple needle-prick, could have prevented it in the first place. She died. The angels were not actively malevolent to us, for the most part; it was their indifference to us that was the true evil. It was their indifference that killed my mother. We cried and they did not hear us. What centuries ago was a great injustice to the demonic race has long since settled into normalcy; the wound is no longer fresh. It is simply "how things are" and no one can manage to be upset by it any longer. We are forgotten.
Why were we there? Because we were poor. Why we were poor? Because we were hated. Why were we hated? Because one man millennia ago had committed crimes worse than evil and the angels sought revenge tenfold. It was the same rage that drives the demonic race now to cry for angelic blood, the same justice of present that makes the injustice of the future. Perhaps we should spill their blood as compensation, measure it out and make it even. Perhaps we should forgive them for their unknowing crimes. I cannot bring myself to either. Maybe that is weakness or maybe that is strength, but I know that whatever it is, I wish I did not have it.
I do not know why I am writing this. Others will surely tell me. I only know that the angels of Heavensgate will not believe a word of it - because I am demon. My Lord is one of lies. My words will change nothing, I am not so pretentious to think otherwise.
by Nude East Ireland » Tue Apr 15, 2014 4:49 pm
by Nightkill the Emperor » Fri May 09, 2014 4:03 pm
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".
Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.
by Astrolinium » Wed Jul 09, 2014 11:04 am
by Nightkill the Emperor » Wed May 13, 2015 7:49 pm
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".
Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.
by Nationstatelandsville » Wed May 13, 2015 7:54 pm
Holy flipping fuck, you guys. Tell me you felt that.
No? Stop giving me that look! I'm telling you, shit went down.
So, like, first of all - and I know this is crazy, but bear with me - all of you fuckers died. Charles Dance came out of nowhere, and I think Bryan Cranston was with him, and whoosh! Suddenly, there's no plant and Aleister Crowley is Peter Capaldi or something.
Stop laughing. I'm serious. I was there. The world ended. Well, the world, except Elfen High. Because of course. Because of course the second they send me to cover this shitty funeral, the world ends. I shouldn't have gone to this goddamn school - I told them that. Fuck you, Frank. I know I fucked your wife, but c'mon. Couldn't you have sent me to a warzone instead? Iraq might be a shithole, but at least it obeys physical laws.
Right. So. A bunch of B-list TV actors from the mid-2010's beat the shit out of each other and then the spaceships... look, I get it. I know this sounds insane. I know you think I've finally snapped, that all those years covering fiscal policy finally got to me. And I know that bitch Caroline is going to try to make this about my drinking. But it's not, it's real. I swear to God.
Also, God was there. He, also, is Charles Dance. He's brothers with the other Charles Dance, or maybe one is the other's father. I don't know, at that point, I was hiding in this big tree, trying to avoid getting killed by the robot angels.
Except the tree had a dragon in it. Actually, I think the dragon was god.
Anyways, then Aleister (who is also John Hurt) killed the dragon, and Tom Baker was there. So, naturally, Aleister rode the dragon into the school, and then rode the school through all of space and time. I passed out at some point, or maybe died, but when I woke up, I was in the school cafeteria, and everything was back to normal.
But the fucking thing talks now.
Listen to me. Yesterday, the universe was destroyed, and Aleister Crowley rebuilt it. I don't expect you to believe me. I get it. Just... just check your stuff, alright? Just look around. Make sure he didn't fuck anything, or everything, or ohmygodIthinkwewereallinsidehim.
Fuck it. Fuck it all, man. I don't even know why I'm writing this. I should be dead, we should all be dead, and I have kids. I quit, man. I... I need to get my life together.
Just... fuck.
And I think I saw Clint Eastwood and Jack Nicholson fucking in a dumpster.
by Nationstatelandsville » Wed May 13, 2015 8:06 pm
Nationstatelandsville wrote:From the Associated Press on January 2nd, 2031 -Holy flipping fuck, you guys. Tell me you felt that.
No? Stop giving me that look! I'm telling you, shit went down.
So, like, first of all - and I know this is crazy, but bear with me - all of you fuckers died. Charles Dance came out of nowhere, and I think Bryan Cranston was with him, and whoosh! Suddenly, there's no plant and Aleister Crowley is Peter Capaldi or something.
Stop laughing. I'm serious. I was there. The world ended. Well, the world, except Elfen High. Because of course. Because of course the second they send me to cover this shitty funeral, the world ends. I shouldn't have gone to this goddamn school - I told them that. Fuck you, Frank. I know I fucked your wife, but c'mon. Couldn't you have sent me to a warzone instead? Iraq might be a shithole, but at least it obeys physical laws.
Right. So. A bunch of B-list TV actors from the mid-2010's beat the shit out of each other and then the spaceships... look, I get it. I know this sounds insane. I know you think I've finally snapped, that all those years covering fiscal policy finally got to me. And I know that bitch Caroline is going to try to make this about my drinking. But it's not, it's real. I swear to God.
Also, God was there. He, also, is Charles Dance. He's brothers with the other Charles Dance, or maybe one is the other's father. I don't know, at that point, I was hiding in this big tree, trying to avoid getting killed by the robot angels.
Except the tree had a dragon in it. Actually, I think the dragon was god.
Anyways, then Aleister (who is also John Hurt) killed the dragon, and Tom Baker was there. So, naturally, Aleister rode the dragon into the school, and then rode the school through all of space and time. I passed out at some point, or maybe died, but when I woke up, I was in the school cafeteria, and everything was back to normal.
But the fucking thing talks now.
Listen to me. Yesterday, the universe was destroyed, and Aleister Crowley rebuilt it. I don't expect you to believe me. I get it. Just... just check your stuff, alright? Just look around. Make sure he didn't fuck anything, or everything, or ohmygodIthinkwewereallinsidehim.
Fuck it. Fuck it all, man. I don't even know why I'm writing this. I should be dead, we should all be dead, and I have kids. I quit, man. I... I need to get my life together.
Just... fuck.
And I think I saw Clint Eastwood and Jack Nicholson fucking in a dumpster.
We would like to correct yesterday's article, "Gott ist Tot" by Earl Mason. The author refers to President Eastwood and Vice President Nicholson as "fucking in a dumpster". Further research indicates that they were, in fact, fucking in a discarded refrigerator, which happened to be inside a dumpster. Fucking like animals.
The author would like to apologize or any confusion or misconception born of his error.
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