Showing posts with label Screeds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Screeds. Show all posts

Friday, March 23, 2007

AN IMPLICIT INVITATION MADE EMBARRASSINGLY PLICIT


It has been five full weeks since we began disseminating classified, semi-classified, quasi-classified, pseudo-classified and crypto-classified information to the likes of you, the Reader, in the weblog format you see before you. The echo of our voice within the void of the digital canyons surrounding us is satisfying, sure, but occasionally we find ourselves wishing to determine better what type of walls this form of virtual sonar is bouncing back to us from.

Now, we understand full well the risks inherent in being seen fraternizing with us – if our own cabal found out about this site they would KILL us (most likely by hypnotizing us into killing ourselves). This is why we must point out that – and we apologize if you find this shocking – “The Apocryphist” is not our real name. At the risk of making things even more complicated, and of bursting the delicate illusion we’ve been so painstaking in the preparation of, we are not even actually more than one person, but rather, an individual entity exercising a common stylistic conceit not dissimilar to the Royal We, but only without all the corruption and inbredness endemic to blood monarchy.

Our goal in revealing this anonymity is that we wish to persuade you, the Reader (and yes, we’re pretty sure we’re being accurate in using the singular form) to likewise cloak yourself in the incognititude available to members of a fake community such as the Labyrosphere (this is our one of our new words for the Internet – we’re working on others as well). We wish to encourage you, with honeyed words and persuasive gestures, to sign up for a free gmail account under the assumed name of your choice, and to engage in fierce debate with us, free from the stress and turmoil caused by the prying eyes of overlords and co-cabalists. The comment section of this and many other entries fairly cries out with the pregnantly trembling tears of solitude – and though we enjoy that about three-quarters of the time, the last fourth could stand to be filled up with your opinions, refutations, rebuttals, denials, professions of brotherhood, and, in their proper place, ejaculations.

We await your move, Reader. Or, shall we say, “Joe.”

Friday, February 16, 2007

THE APOCRYPHIST'S CREED

Welcome to The Apocryphist. Starting Monday, we will be presenting our readers with only the finest in hazy, poorly understood, and generally unconfirmed reports from all fields of human endeavor (except for sports; we neither enjoy nor comprehend sports).

THE APOCRYPHIST’S CREED

If it’s questionable:
print it.

If it’s in poor taste:
print it.

If it further befuddles an already incomprehensible world:
print it.

If it encourages the reader to believe that there is more than meets the eye – even (ESPECIALLY) if the truth is likely that there’s less:
print it.

If it casts unfair aspersions on those individuals past and present who had the good or bad fortune to be framed long enough in fame’s aggrandizing lens that we can recognize their names:
print it.

If, in doing all of these things, it bestows upon our minds the sense of innocent mystery that we experienced as children, when there was a troll under every rock and a dragon behind every cloud; if it allows a bit more wiggle room in the confining closet of reason; if it, even for the briefest moment, throws the space-time continuum a mere nanometer out of whack:
for G-d's sake, PRINT IT.