You ever heard a Florida thunderstorm deep within the state’s interior? Far away from the tourists and the oceans and the calm breeze that hints of tropical weather and carefree days?
Articles by Dr. Bones
Broken, bloodied, my stomach churned to pieces. I stumble to awaken, one eye open gathering at fragments of memories. What had happened? My phone is filled with late night calls to any writers I could think of and though the conversations are forgotten their urgent message snaps back to the forefront of my mind
There are bad ideas and then REALLY fucking bad ideas. Take for instance my recent habit of chasing whiskey with beer. I’ve fucked up, gotten lost, and even blew off quality time with the family to discuss reincarnation with my town’s homeless population.
The ongoing electoral contest between Trump and Hillary meant very little to the man being escorted off the bus. No questions posed by that pieces of plywood masquerading as a journalists were bouncing in his brain as the police officer walked down the aisle and asked him for his ID.
Revolutionaries and Anarchists will need to think deeply on the implications of so wide a surveillance network and perhaps a more primitive “back to basics” approach is in order to evade the snares and snags of Johnny Law.
I laugh in the face of death, make horrible crude jokes, and just generally find some measure of joy in situations where others might cry or wail. I’m the kind of guy that finds shit like this hilarious:
Good ole’ Hillary, she never lets me down. I had wondered when the next shoe was going to drop in the latest act of our grand collective puppet show.
As the United States totters ever closer towards total collapse and WW3 looms on the horizon, one question burns with increasing intensity in the minds of Anarchists everywhere: what can I do to help destroy things?
There are very few places that are so terrible, so utterly tinged with some dark and malignant energy that they simply must be destroyed. Like some cursed doll or haunted house there is no saving them, save for the holy and sacred cleansing power of fire.
I saw this coming a long way off, and I tried to warn as many people to abandon ship before they had their heart ripped open, but some fools still clung to the faith of their ancestors, still believed in the little red schoolhouse version of history and honest to god thought if they just voted hard enough things would change.
His eyes, black like coals, seem like pits to nothing under furrowed brows. The crowd, a mayo-colored, frightened and huddled mass of bourgeoisie hopefuls waits on the words of their messiah.
The FBI is regarded as the cream of the crop in law enforcement, an agency beyond reproach and committed to doing what’s right. Provided of course the guilty aren’t running for office but you get my drift.
In a move that shocked faux-socialists everywhere Chairman Sanders went out on stage and officially endorsed none other than the Lizard Queen herself.
We are in uncharted territory. When the DC sniper ran loose nobody felt for him; surely nobody understood his position. McVeigh was fringe, and of course a racist.
My wife’s eyes were caught in a strange dimension, torn between pointed lids of womanly amusement at the follies of men while simultaneously wide open in a look of unmitigated fear.
Change. Change is a rare bird of strange plumes, a multi-colored goddess that perches above crossroads and sings of new dawns. This bird, only rarely glimpsed, has made folk shudder in ecstasy and fear whereever it appears.
The first line started with “what I am about to say about the #OrlandoShooting may be misinterpreted” and boy, was I right. You see I am after all an “irresponsible writer.”
“We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and — in spite of True Romance magazines — we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our…
Could this be the work of “Lord of all fevers and plagues, grinning Dark Angel of the Four Wings, horned, with rotting genitalia?” A question out of place for most secular websites, but surely I’m not the only occultist pondering the implications of a gigantic spiritual vortex of pain and suffering being kept alive by two very material forces.
As a practicing Occultist since I was 16 I have seen many, many things, but I have never seen anything quite as disgusting, quite as torrid, as the mental gymnastics some Bernie supporters are pulling out of thin air to somehow justify the defeat of their “political revolution.”
“He talked about luck and fate and numbers coming up, yet he never ventured a nickel at the casinos because he knew the house had all the percentages. And beneath his pessimism,…
With Cruz out of the race and the DNC practically hounding for Sanders to drop out it appears all is business as usual in the American Oligarchy.
“First, there’s a huge difference between being arrested and being guilty. Second, see, the law changes and I don’t. How I stand vis-à-vis the law at any given moment depends on the…
The New York primary came and went and, as I’ve predicted since…this whole series, it went down exactly as I thought it would.
I’m sitting here with a cocktail whose brethren are unnumbered, trying desperately to prepare myself for the pure shittery that is electoral politics.