23 Ways

[disinfo ed.'s note: this original essay was first published by disinformation on December 21, 2001. Some links may have changed.]

23 Ways to Tell You’ve Read Too Much Robert Anton Wilson:

1. You like to dine on golden apples and lasagna that has flown over Bologna.

2. You have Lawn Gnomes of Zurich out front on the porch.

3. You sign your name with “fnord” at the end.

4. You got into a heated argument with the staff of Dictionary.com about the correct way to spell “coincidence”.

5. You wish you were shorter so you could change your name to Markoff.

6. Is that a reefer I see in your hand? Yeah, I thought so.

7. You can say “sumbunall” without hesitating or blushing.

8. Whenever you put off cleaning for too long you get the feeling that dust bunnies are conspiring to use mind control on you.

9. You have had an OOBE (out-of-book experience).

10. You get anonymous letters from Fernando Poo discussing the relevance of Egyptian Mouth Breeders in James Joyce’s Ulysses and actually understand it.

11. You keep your Pope Card in a Marx Brothers reliquary.

12. You can’t understand why all those street signs name a Buddhist monk (or why you run over so many people at crosswalks and in parking lots).

13. Some nights, you have to count Jumping Jesuses to get to sleep.

14. You go to costume parties in an Illuminati mask.

15. You’re afraid to let your cat out of the house at night for fear it might cause trouble in alternate universes.

16. Things don’t start looking normal until after you’ve tried LSD.

17. Your bomb shelter is a yellow submarine and serves as your summer home.

18. You wake up screaming, “Ewige Blumencraft!”

19. You like to be your own impostor.

20. You find you’ve been tattooed with the message “Property of the Illuminati.”

21. You suspect your cat may be a mole for the Secret Order of the Assassins when you find a dagger hidden under its litter box.

22. You go to Mad Dog, Texas for cheap thrills.

23. You make lists that are 23 items long; no more, no less.

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  • drokhole

    Spectacles, testicles, brandy, cigars.

  • JohnFrancisBittrich

    simultaneous… non-simultaneous…

  • Simon

    its “Ewige Blumenkraft!” & of course “fliegende Kinderscheisse”

  • http://just-john.com just john

    You’re reading my mind. Just a few hours ago, I posted to alt.slack with the subject: pining for the fnords.

    (It just said that perhaps a R.A.W./Python crossover wasn’t a good idea, after all.)

  • valisopticus23

    If people here haven’t read this book and are just happening upon it…then READ THIS FUCKING BOOK

    It started it all, in many ways

  • DillingerDiedforYou

    No wife, no horse, no moustache.

  • lifobryan

    I just flew out of Chapel Perilous on some lasagna, with no wife, horse, or mustache … and realized that Nature’s God was a white, fluffy verb from Sirius. And after 23 fnords, I find this essay inscribed on a Golden Apple, sumbunal of the time. Hail Eris & Pope Bob!

    • Calypso_1

      I grow apples [pollarded] (& assorted other plantae sex glands for sensual consumption – you really should try the medlars), have a propensity for grandiose hirsutism, hippocampal wrangling & a wife.

      There is a window in said chapel for which I paid dearly & I have been impersonating myself, impersonating a stranger pretending to be me for well nigh a decade.

      Über Eris

  • http://twitter.com/TedHeistman Ted Heistman

    its hard to find

  • Spasmodius

    Nonsimultaneously apprehended interactive processing.

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