He Must Not Be Posting Because You Can Busted On The Internet

Hey Colette,
I saw that email you sent me with each section having its own reply.  I thought, “Nice use of color, Colette”, but I was just being snide.  You had the general aspect going of a cross-section of my audience who mention that I do not make sense.  That always bothers me, as if it represents a failure on my part and a justification for  everything I write to be rejected, but you are not a major offender on that score.  Oh, yeah, it is true that regular writing, like I’m doing now, has many rules and I break ’em.  Right above here, I have written, “you had the general aspect going”, and, the word, “Going” would not ordinarily appear in that sentence.  It appears because of a (pick one, sarcastic, cynical, ironic, retarded, a word like those), relegation of the argument to the dustbin through demeaning use of the vernacular speech.  My vernacular is as opaque as I can make it.  I am even morbid about it.  Like, it’s good to know (or its a good feeling to know somebody loves you, a Yes song the lyrics), that you are in a high percentile intellectually.  Oh, I see one thing I do.  I refuse to go back.  Once I write a word, all the rest of the words are going to follow it.  That makes it hard.  I have developed ways not to be wrong.  Of course, anything designed not to be wrong will fail, and how it fails is that it comes out sounding stupid.  Yes, it’s supposed to sound stupid.  It sounds better stupid.  There is no legitimate sentence, “A Yes song exists the lyrics”.  I am reverting to speech: “There’s a song lyric in here”.  “What?”  “What I said.”  “What I mean”  “The lyrics, what?  I just said you’re a funny guy.”  That’s ordinary.  That’s every day.  Wait until I have to deal with a topic in one or more of the following categories: something I have been (un) justly punished for, ESP, insanity, or, a minor regression back 1,000 years with us talking alchemy now, and no longer chemistry.  I don’t use words as a bludgeon, I mean I do, of course, but the people (one of my constant fall-back words) who are using words as weapons use certain words, ethnic cleansing for instance.  There’s a whole book on it.  They accomplish genocide, you know.  I am not attempting genocide this minute.  Those people committing genocide do not have their messages “up to a level of” containing bad words per se.  They use nice words and are easily understood.  My work is spying.  My messages are active intelligence calling for mass chaos and anarchy.  I am looking to make something explode.  I’m a troll, aww.
That paragraph is what we call “TL; DR”, for, too long didn’t read.  Okay, I’ll get to the point.  Now, why, with a physical science graduate from Berkeley, am I still fighting for my life (when you say I don’t make sense, it is a short step to saying I’m crazy.  It’s a good thing I am not eighteen any more.  I’m not very easy to lock up without a trial now), when it is not unreasonable that with all the Tupperware in the world that two chemists have one item of chemistry in every communication?  Is that too much to ask?  After five solid years waiting to take chemistry in high school, I want something to say something, if only Le Chatlier’s principle.  Why do I have to begin with, “PV=nRT, you believe that, right?”
As I write, I characteristically forget.  I used to worry about that.  I just used a phrase from Bukowski, number one writer in the world.  Sean Penn was one of his pallbearers.  I do not like, “Flowers for Agernon”.  I was fourteen.  Here is what you would be forced to say, and here is how that would go:
“Hold up, punk.  Where do you think you are going?”
ME “I’m going to see Alfie.  You know, Flowers for Algernon.”
THEM “I don’t give a fuck.  Get down and rap off twenty pushups.”
Can’t you see that in that situation, I needn’t adhere to the dictates of the movie people.  What can’t they just put down the title?  That’s the only time they did that.  Nobody has heard of “Flowers for Algernon”.  What’s an algernon?  Yes, to be inordinately correct, I will have to preface my recitation of the ttile with a parenthetical remark, to be squeaky clean, and all correct.  We even have “ain’t” in the dictionary.  We had to bomb Berlin and destroy the Third Reich to be able to have that.
It’s got Cliff Robertson riding a motorcycle.  He fucking has a speech impediment!  They picked him as a retard!  Those two do not go together!  The book itself is too thin, and could not be good.  If you started liking it, it would end right then.
Berkeley’s got—let’s face it, it had—the world’s greatest chemists.  By now, I mean, could you imagine Emilio Estevez or Keifer Sutherland?  No, and you clearly need to be beat to death.  It’s only Donald Sutherland, and Martin Sheen, okay?  At this late date we are left speculating who these monsters are who have saddled us with their grandchildren in our top echelon.  Born to rule.  Perfect.
No, I had the, …uh, mistaken impression that you (Colette), gambited the schizophrenia.  You brought it up.  That carries paranoia with it.  I thought we were on solid ground.  From now on, from this point forward, aspersions in this regard are permissible and hold no threat.
Okay, up to this point we have that I do not rewrite, I do not go back to insert words, nor erase, I do not take notes, there’s no first draft, and since I’m psychic and I know all words, I make allegations first, then I check my facts.
You have some serious bruising to endure.  I am going to have to go back and see where you fucked up. Bear with me, Bear (that Owsely Stanley calls himself The Bear).  Hmm, I have no idea what you said.  I can’t see (I have my eyes closed).  You said something.  Must have been about my mother.  Watch it, sister.
Well, I know I was going to finish with a flourish.  Let’s see, words beginning with ‘f’; defenestration.  You are going out a window.  I was going to say ((I) say Hi, how are you well I guess I’m doing fine.  That wasn’t it.  (I) say good luck, but I don’t mean it -Dylan), with his socks on the other feet.  Buk, …okay, no.  You.  Imagine walking around and what title do you see on a book on a coffee table?  ^ ^ Poems Written Before Jumping Out of a 14th-Floor Window.  Naw, I don’t want to read that.  Here: excuse me, but you said that you were on speed.  What was really, powdered sugar?  No, your vitals precede you.  You have the qualifications.  You do take the speed.  Therefore, you are paranoid.  Paranoia is us.  Plus, you steal.  Let’s face it.  It was a bad metaphor to stick it on a coffee table.  It reminded me that in a real situation you’d be tempted to pilfer it.  Girl (I love to be called that), I do this with everybody who steals.  Don’t you feel special.  No, Steve, go with Now don’t you feel special?
We’ve got to get you sober, what they call.  I could not put it in that last paragraph; it got too long, it would’ve been swallowed up.  That’s the meat of the phrase I wanted to put down today, contrary with what I said yesterday, which was that you won’t quit.  Say it, “I can’t quit.”
Yes you can, and you will.
Notice this device, literary.  When a person says something, I go back in the archives and pull out something they said which contradicts what they are saying now.  Now who are you calling a liar?  Who doesn’t make any fucking sense?  Because, it’s you.  Oh, big channel swim.  We are seventy years long!  What justifies all of it?  I have paperwork on the Hell’s Angels. Don’t piss me off or I’ll pull your sheet and at the next meeting of the coven we will put a spell* on you. Watch out crossing railroad tracks.
A tweaker doesn’t steal, oh no.  I come home and all my belongings are piled up at the front door, like they were positioning it and went back for more.
You still have hope, Colette.  You know yourself, and I bet there is plenty wrong that you are not telling me, even.  I say, “2003, in trouble, and eight years go by and this individual has not built up a scinitilla of trust.”
Show me where I’m wrong.  If this has a complete sentence, I want you to identify the subject and verb.  Do not, repeat, not, just say it maketh to have no thense.  I’ll do it for you on the first one.
Billinghurst writes me, “You still have hope.”  Bull fucking shit.  For far too long, while the parents were relaxing after murdering 120 million souls, they kept saying, “We still have Hope”, and they meant Bob Hope.  Of course, there was no hope as such.  They bargained away their self-respect to go a on a ruthless empire-building adventure and escape from the Depression, a pitiless and insane cohort of alcoholic tobacco addicts.  If we can learn from them, heaven help us.  They’ll say we killed, “a billion”.
I am setting the scene for the next encounter with as far back as I go, an individual who discovers fire.  We need a name.
* a hex
speculum seclorum demundo
What?  I canged color, now I’m writing more.  Touche!  Stanford!
Yeah.  Fuck.  Turn that shit off.  Yes.  Yesssssss.  Who was it?  Could you feature not remembering a person’s name, and you know all about them?  How you gonna write that?  “There exists a man, a little man, no more than 4-5 microns tall, I mean millimeters.  he’s about yay big, HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?”  Naw, it’s Lenny Bruce, or I wouldn’t be writing this.  Back in the day (back in the dizay, that’s funny.  There’s a COMPLETE GUIDE TO LIFE, here and I will get it for you.  Click and scroll: http://encyclopediadramatica.com/The_Comprehensive_Guide_To_Life).  This helped me a couple of days ago.  The encyclopedia is generally what they call parody, not this.  It is as if we have to train just like a new Army.  Now, Lenny, when he was on stage, he had ways.  Glenn Campbell had the ways, for sure, too.  But he says, “What was the taste?”, meaning, “How much did it cost?”  He was shouting to what they call a heckler.  A word like, “taste”, it is so boss.  Inherently repellant.  Comes from a constant self-narration of the ways to shoot up.  “Don’t slam that heroin, Skipper.”  “Uh, okay, I won’t, but I’m doing this taste.”  Then you say the word and kiss your fingertips, and there is no antiseptic, and the steel needle penetrates your flesh with the bugs and the germs hitching a free ride into your vile innards, classic.  One word.  The judge in court would say things, and Lenny said things to the newspaper, like, “The judge wanted a taste, too.”   That was because in the furor over political correctness, what they ended up doing was fining and jailing Lenny.  A fine is money.  Heroin, see?  Costing, oh, upward of.  Get it?
^ ^ is somebody laughing
I said this, vis a vis, You said this, I deviced to “changing socks”, a metaphor for changing the person.  Of course, I do not wish to alienate my sister Colette here, but I can devolve further down, to the letters. I do not Believe in change.  See, CHANGE.  watch: CHARGE.  Now put them back, change v. charge.  There is no change, only charge, and no Spanish.  Well?  Do you no Spanish?  Fuck, don’t you understand  mumbo-jumbo?
I’m so confused.
Calculate the voltage, … well, design the experiment, but, once you measure the potential, change it from kcals to volts, and then what are you going to do with that number in the next experiment?  What holds this on?  -OH of PhCH(OH)CH(NHCH3)CH3?  Assume somebody breaks the law and hands you this number of kcals.  What equation are you plugging it into so you can set your voltage?  Use a variable for now.  Is a benzyl cation the transition state?  cf anion, radical, the radic: … how stable?  Trick question.  There is no legal method for obtaining information about drug activities.  It’s mens rea, or mens actus, one’s a guilty mind, the other’s a guilty act  It’s the mind one.  It’s a crime, don’t worry.  List mechanismos for organic chemistry and state the relationship between rates and mechanisms.  I’ll start, SN2, substituton bimolecular.  It’s wrong if we only have one molecule reacting.  Shit.  It doesn’t make sense.
The SN2 reaction (also known as bimolecular nucleophilic substitution or as backside attack) is a type of nucleophilic substitution, where a lone pair from


Oh, nucleophilic.
The SN1 reaction is a two-step reaction in which. The leaving group leaves, forming a carbocation. This is the slow step, and so the rate is dependent only
The fuck!  Did you know that?  One’s simultaneous!  Why’d I fail chemistry?!!!111oneoneone
A: “We do not draw lines on the computer for, they do not  make sense.  If’n I was you, son, I’d a got me a image of a dude in a fursuit in fronna  a blackboard, meebe the chalk will show on a pic, or maybe we feel like puttin ’em all as bipmaps.  Can’t be uploaded. They’re patented!  Hands off!  Read my lips, this is the European method.  We are ANALYTIC around here, geometry is for fools.  Read me the text.  Use the sense God gave you with a baseball bat.” 
B: “Uh, okay.  I’ll copypasta the defn for resonance.  Then we’re going to make the speed, then we are coming after you.  Ha!”
The physics of resonance: Specially designed for high school students to explain one of the most impressive phenomena in all of physics.
B: “I’m all ears.  Hit me.”
A: “Sure, after you put down what time it is, and the word count.  We need that.”

One Response to “He Must Not Be Posting Because You Can Busted On The Internet”

  1. colette Says:

    it’s o.k. to use my first name, i don’t want to be a number again.

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