ANDORE AND POISON TEACH SEXUALITY
Sun, 01/18/2009 — Sak
Why is our body, for us, the mirror of our being, unless because it is a natural self, a current of given existence, with the result that we never know whether the forces which bear us on are its or ours -- or with the result rather that they are never entirely either its or ours. There is no outstripping of sexuality any more than there is any sexuality enclosed within itself. No one is saved and no one is totally lost.
--Maurice Merleau-Ponty
Grabme, Man Seeks Meaning
Sun, 10/10/2004 — Fasteriskhead
VICTORY AT LAST!
HOMOMAN WILL BE MOST PLEASED
(NEW DATA INPUT) BUT -
NOW THAT I HAVE DESTROYED HOE'S DICK
WHAT IS MY PURPOSE IN LIFE
BZZT ERROR ERROR DOES NOT COMPUTE
DIGITAL DESPAIR ENTERING PRIMARY CIRCUITS
BZZT BZZT OH GOD
Early to Mid-Game Management
Tue, 07/27/2004 — Fasteriskhead
During periodic breaks for food and soda, sometimes I wonder: what kind of control do I truly exert over my own existence? What choices do I really have in life, outside of the decision whether to try a zergling rush or not?
And in the end, the answer is none. None at all.
Great Villains in Gaming, Entry #14
Wed, 07/21/2004 — Fasteriskhead
Listen, and understand. Evil Otto is out there. It can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity or remorse or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, EVER, until you are dead.
A Cautionary Tale
Thu, 07/15/2004 — Fasteriskhead
My arms and legs were like mud, only making lazy, halfhearted efforts to obey any commands I sent them. It had seemingly always been this way, but somewhere in the back of my mind something whispered, with increasing assurance, that once I'd been a man, that once I'd had a life... but that was all over now and it had all long since left my memory, blown away by the harsh mountain winds the same as the dust. My opponent, the one in the red, held an expression as grim and hopeless as my own; if he had ever told me his name, then I had forgotten it eons ago. It didn't matter anyways, as all we were ever made to do was fight. We did battle like blinded retards flailing at wasps, like action figures being slammed into each other with our plastic limbs wildly rotating around a single axis. As the guy in blue with the grimace yelled "BEGIN!" and we stumbled forward ready to completely embarrass ourselves once more for the trillionth time, like a shot from the dark realization slammed into my head: that dude up there is the devil, and I am in hell.
