Ridicule Is Powerful

PositronWildhawk I was restless. I was traumatised. I knew something or someone was about to take me, insanity, lust, death... I could find only my own desperate breath in this fabric of prejudice, not a sound, a voice, a melody, not a soul to love in this unreal vacuum of hope. Once a dynamic man of prosperity and class, who could get by by designing testicular rocket launchers to stimulate his Prozac more quickly, whose regular fan mail and requests to sign the Wildhawk tattoos on a thousand boobs kept him contemplating the pleasure of being alive, so long as there was Latino-Japanese kestrel soup to maintain 49% of his body mass and 99% of his morphine. Now a shadow of his former self, a deteriorated, decayed moron with the inability to reason with the epileptic bunnies slowly devouring him from the vas deferens as much as to complete the while loop that the intelligent version of him could potentially find the meaning of life as long as the condition made clear by the judge following the trial of the special function held true: >>>while 4exp(9) == 'deez nuts':.
What did I do? I met with the Grand Empress Yuktuk: feeder upon despair, scum-munching orchid enthusiast, anarchist of peach milkshake. She refused me reform, so I made the distinct subsonic rebuke of an angsty turtle being nailed to a 1930's lunchbox, ripped the crowbar from her tights and struck her in the brain, the exact spot which centered her passion for handwritten hyperbolic calculus. Demotivated from her time to [exp(x)-exp(-x)]/2, Yuktuk had no choice but to curtsy before my mite, who sadly died when I washed my hair. Nevertheless, I was shortly to reign above the empire of 6 foot midgets, to lead them to conquer the universe, first by defeating the Irish dynasty of gender-confused plant pot hijackers, and then feeding the brake fluid of a Jamaican pig's coffeemaker to suicidal Jewish vole barbers. Nothing could stop me now, and I was destined for eternal glory.
Ridicule is powerful.

It was the best of times, no, dagnabbit, it was the worst of times! In life, I was raised on kangaroo milk, platypus butter and echidna cheese sent over by my cousins, after my high-pressure birth put my mother into a coma. Consequently, I grew up conditioned into living upside down. Gravity was my nemesis. Every time I went down a slide, I felt I would accelerate into space. Every time I saw tea being poured, I fretted for ceiling stains. And handstands, although they kept my sanity intact, kept my brain pressurised with blood. Dates were awkward, being focused on serious upside-down contests similar to party drinking games, and the constant mix-ups of erotic frameworks were humiliating. School was worse, as I could get through an exam without being caught writing under the table as much as I could dunk a basketball from ground level, which was not at all. When my kitten got stuck in a tree, I could only give it the all-clear before he left a dent in the ground and a hole in my heart. My world had been turned upside down from day one.
What did I do? I went to see my cousins one day. I demanded the antidote for their down-under dairy poisons. This involved sweating it out, and that meant rising above all the Aussie athletes. To be the best. To be the most powerful Jedi and awful sci-fi actor the world had ever seen. So I sought enlightenment from a molybdenum squirrel who said the words I shall never forget: "Superman never wastes time eating foreign viral mucus. He captures the imagination of seventeen quadrillion sunglasses manufacturing pandas because he campaigns for lower prostitution taxes. With the hoes keeping more of their hard-earned money, they only encourage more exercise, and that is what the pandas need to learn to mate. They learn to give it all they've got, or they're extinct. You gotta give it all you got, you gotta push hard, push strong, and you'll strive to win." And after weeks of juggling books about the Cartesian relationship between 2-in-1 laptops and the number 6, balancing Yoda styled USB flash drives and undulating train tickets on my nose until I was focused on a purple tiger on a suspension bridge, and hiking across a giant orange with fifty hot nuclear reactors suspended from my moustache, my brain suddenly rotated in its skull. All was well, and I went back to an upright country, living an upright life, and frankly a boring one too.
Ridicule is powerful.

I grew up with absurd habits and interests. As a tiny child, I would apply moisturiser to my pekingese's teeth to determine that it was not suited for a fuel to take us to the outer reaches of the cosmos. I often imagined myself as the perfect leader of the BNP, based on my lust for pinecones, original ideas for lubricating plasmas most efficiently in a kitchen appliance, and bloodthirst. I often cooked corduroy and lampshades in my dryer to help the misogynist feminists in Icelandic horsemeat factories. When I got into kindergarten, I would develop these practices further, and nobody supported my campaigns. They only supported Elmo's notions to devolve Internet Explorer on all computers which have Chrome installed. In school, I was only mocked for my righteous movement ideas, and I would only be mocked more in college. Because of these asinine ideas, I had no scholarships, no degrees, no qualifications of the kind that most were offered.
What did I do? I learned that I didn't need opinions. I didn't need ignorance. I didn't need a PhD in a nampy-pampy subject like history if I was qualified in my own right. In my mind, in my heart, in everything that made me, I was determined to make my own life, and whatever I was doing with said life, I was doing it with as much motivation as I could muster. I lived in the moment, lived every day like it was my last, because no matter how absurd my motives were called, no matter how much they were questioned, I believe I was onto something the entire time. So as I opened my pekingese's mouth, I opened the door to knowledge, no matter how quirky it made me, because it made me.
Ridicule is powerful.

Ridicule is powerful. Join RiverClanRocks and I in the weirdo revolution!

Comments

That was the weirdest thing I had ever seen. Ever. - RiverClanRocks (9/30/2015)

Well, you asked me for a weirdo revolution, and this is just the start. - PositronWildhawk (9/30/2015)

I'll join the revolution if you tell me what you were on when you wrote this.

Just saying', it could be useful in my art career... - keycha1n (9/30/2015)

I was on a chair. - PositronWildhawk (9/30/2015)

Is "a chair" the name of a new underground drug? - visitor (10/1/2015)

Do drugs usually have wheels? - PositronWildhawk (10/1/2015)

I consider this a Yes. - visitor (10/1/2015)

Best conversation on TheTopTens I've seen so far - Martinglez (12/15/2015)

Yes, if you're high enough. - keycha1n (10/1/2015)

We all shall join the Crackhead Crusade! - bobbythebrony (10/1/2015)

0.0
I was warned...But did I listen? I let my thirst for curiosity over this blog take over and now...and now I am a mere blob, a mass of stuff on the floor with my phone nestled in the crevice that used to be my brain...
What a great way to die. Thank you. Pos! - visitor (10/3/2015)

That's what you get when you pair up me and Hawkie. WE ARE INVINCIBLE! - RiverClanRocks (10/4/2015)

Not as invincible as I am. - visitor (11/28/2015)

Heck of a trip, man.

JK TL,DR LOL - PetSounds (10/3/2015)

:D - EvilAngel (10/16/2015)

me - visitor (11/1/2015)

Oh me too me too,I'll also ask my imaginary pink pet unicorn with a electric guitar Mohawk to join yay! - Toucan (12/2/2015)

Banana pals yay! - Anonymousxcxc (1/15/2016)

Hey I'm weirdo put me in - 2storm (1/17/2016)

I can be weird. LET ME IN LITTLE PIGGIE - WonkeyDude98 (1/20/2016)

Magnificent - visitor (7/30/2016)

Nice - visitor (7/30/2016)

I'm joining. I have the passion of a chipmunk enthralled in the act of destroying a magnetic tape recorder. - TwilightKitsune (8/27/2016)

I'm 3 years late lmao - visitor (8/4/2019)