Gregory Szorc's blog

Stupid Mass E-mails, Part Deux

Ahhhhhhhh

Today is the last day to purchase the 2006 Entertainment Book.

Cost is an affordable $25, which you will recoup as soon as you begin to use the discount coupons for the many items offered.

Save money on athletic merchandise, golf, and garden supplies, and at restaurants, hotels, movies, the theatre, and other amusement opportunities. Receive hundreds of discounts in hundreds of place such as Foot Locker, Regal Cinemas, the House of Blues, Ferris Steakhouse, Dunkin' Donuts, Bed Bath & Beyond, Sherwin Williams, and many more.

The 2006 Entertainment Book is a great gift. Buy one for you and one for someone else!

Books are available in the Office of Equal Opportunity and Diversity, Adelbert Hall 310. Stop by and see Shirely Mosley or e-mail to shirley.mosley@case.edu to reserve your book. Cash or check (made payable to Case) accepted. Proceeds from the sale of these books will be used to support diversity activities and initiatives across campus.

Last chance: Get your book today and see how much you can save.

I don't think the sender read http://blog.case.edu/gps10/2005/11/17/stupid_mass_emails. Seriously, why do you need to send this twice? I received the first e-mail and promptly ignored it. Had I been interested, I would have heeded its message and made a note of it.

You can ping this entry by using http://blog.case.edu/gps10/mt-tb.cgi/4419 .

I doubt they read blogs, since they did not post it to a blog. But you have given them plenty of free advertisement anyways, so maybe they hoped to bug you again. I guess we will really have to wait and see if this is the last call.

Listen...

CHAOS NEVER DIED. Primordial uncarved block, sole worshipful monster, inert & spontaneous, more ultraviolet than any mythology (like the shadows before Babylon), the original undifferentiated oneness-of-being still radiates serene as the black pennants of Assassins, random & perpetually intoxicated.

Chaos comes before all principles of order & entropy, it's neither a god nor a maggot, its idiotic desires encompass & define every possible choreography, all meaningless aethers & phlogistons: its masks are crystallizations of its own facelessness, like clouds.

Everything in nature is perfectly real including consciousness, there's absolutely nothing to worry about. Not only have the chains of the Law been broken, they never existed; demons never guarded the stars, the Empire never got started, Eros never grew a beard.

No, listen, what happened was this: they lied to you, sold you ideas of good & evil, gave you distrust of your body & shame for your prophethood of chaos, invented words of disgust for your molecular love, mesmerized you with inattention, bored you with civilization & all its usurious emotions.

There is no becoming, no revolution, no struggle, no path; already you're the monarch of your own skin--your inviolable freedom waits to be completed only by the love of other monarchs: a politics of dream, urgent as the blueness of sky.

To shed all the illusory rights & hesitations of history demands the economy of some legendary Stone Age--shamans not priests, bards not lords, hunters not police, gatherers of paleolithic laziness, gentle as blood, going naked for a sign or painted as birds, poised on the wave of explicit presence, the clockless nowever.

Agents of chaos cast burning glances at anything or anyone capable of bearing witness to their condition, their fever of lux et voluptas. I am awake only in what I love & desire to the point of terror--everything else is just shrouded furniture, quotidian anaesthesia, shit-for-brains, sub-reptilian ennui of totalitarian regimes, banal censorship & useless pain.

Avatars of chaos act as spies, saboteurs, criminals of amour fou, neither selfless nor selfish, accessible as children, mannered as barbarians, chafed with obsessions, unemployed, sensually deranged, wolfangels, mirrors for contemplation, eyes like flowers, pirates of all signs & meanings.

Here we are crawling the cracks between walls of church state school & factory, all the paranoid monoliths. Cut off from the tribe by feral nostalgia we tunnel after lost words, imaginary bombs.

The last possible deed is that which defines perception itself, an invisible golden cord that connects us: illegal dancing in the courthouse corridors. If I were to kiss you here they'd call it an act of terrorism--so let's take our pistols to bed & wake up the city at midnight like drunken bandits celebrating with a fusillade, the message of the taste of chaos.

What was this chaos email we all received?

Notice: Poetic Terrorism on campus

A message entitled "Notice: Poetic Terrorism on campus" was sent out to the campus community late last night. We have been receiving many calls and inquiries about this email message, however the source and reason behind the message is unknown to the Help Desk. The message is not a virus and will not damage your computer to open. We recommend simply deleting the message.
The Case PerceptIS Help Desk is investigating this matter.

Speculation about "Poetic Terrorism" here.

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