Hitting Bottom HARD: Everyone with the Sense G-d Gave a Bloodletting Fluke
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Jonathan Swift
Jun 2, 2010, 5:53:31 PM6/2/10
to softwareproblem
The other day Israel earned world-wide outraged condemnation and
convinced everyone on the planet that the Jews now possess a genocidal
psychopathy that puts Adolf Hitler deep love of and respect for Hebrew
culture completely to shame.
How?
They savagely murdered nine Turkish people who were trying to do
nothing more than to deliver some humanitarian aid to the Palestinians
who are now completely blockaded in the Gaza Strip.
You see, when Israel is determined to savagely murder every completely
innocent and defenseless Palestinian it can lay its felonious claws
on, it does NOT take kindly to those who might spoil its fun.
Right up until that point, Turkey was Israel's closest and most ardent
ally in the entire Muslim World. By so clearly explaining the error
of their ways to those Turkish humanitarians, Israel also explained
the error of their ways to every Turk who might have been so damnfool
ignorant as to think stone soap showers weren't the right way to get
fresh and clean.
If the following essay does not explain in a transparently simple and
obvious way why Israel goes to such great lengths to savagely murder
every completely defenseless Palestinian it can run down, yet has not
pointed so much as a Super Soaker in the general direction of Syrian
since it took the Golan Heights, then not only do you possess not the
sense G-d gave a Bloodletting Fluke, but you are the most dangerous
kind of psychopath and so should be hunted down and shot on sight:
The Structure of Scientific Revolutions
http://www.softwareproblem.org/lets-eat-something-good-for-our-heads/
Zyklon B was nothing more than Hydrogen Cyanide. Only a tiny whiff of
the stuff is required to put you to death in a couple minutes, your
final couple being spent largely puking your guts all over the place
while at the same time contemplating how you might get your completely
stopped heart starting ticking again.
Hydrogen Cyanide is quite easy to make and in EXTREMELY dilute form
smells quite pleasantly like Almonds. I was QUITE heavily into
chemistry long before I ever knew anything about Astronomy or Physics,
let alone software engineering, so I had the idea I might make some
nice perfume as a gift for my sister Jean by preparing for her a test
tube full of chemically pure concentrated Hydrogen Cyanide.
Hydrogen Cyanide has quite a low boiling point, and among my
experimental apparatus was a couple of the Pyrex glass chemistry lab
equivalents of the coiled copper tubing that Moonshine stills use to
recondense alcohol vapor back into liquid alcohol. They consist of
long glass cylinders about an inch and a quarter across with a helix
of glass running inside. One runs chilled water through the outer
jacket, the Hydrogen Cyanide vapor through the middle, my sister's
Final, Fatal Perfume being slowly dripped out the lower end of the
inner tube.
By doing so, I damn near gave the same gift to my fellow students at
Moscow Junior High School in Moscow Idaho the very same gift that
Adolf Hitler gave to all his Zionist buddies: I was so impressed at
what my sister's perfume actually turned out to smell like that the
very first thing I did was cork that test tube with a stopper then
take it in my shirt pocket to school with me one day.
During lunch time as he and I stood in the nearly deserted upstairs
hallway at school less than five minutes before the bell rang for the
end of lunch, I casually handed that test tube to a friend then said,
"Hey check out this perfume I made for my sister."
It is incredibly difficult to convey the true odor of concentrated
Hydrogen Cyanide in a way that will enable you to really comprehend
just how completely overcome with the very worst kind of Horror my
friend was when he proceeded to take a strong sniff directly from the
open mouth of that test tube. The closest I can come to is that pure
HCN smells roughly like burnt scrambled eggs on steroids.
He proceeded to drop that test tube from the height of his nostrils
onto the hall's hard tile floor. Quite likely the most courageous act
of my entire existence was that I knew instantly I might be about to
give my own life in hopes that I might by doing so save the lifes of
so many of my completely innocent Seventh and Eighth grade
classmates:
I ran like Hell to the Boys Room, grabbed a huge wad of paper towels,
ran back, scrubbed that little puddle completely dry and clean, made
sure I grabbed up even the tiniest little glass splinter as well then
over to the stairs and as far from the school building as I could get
before scattering all those towels completely to the wind so that the
Hydrogen Cyanide could evaporate safely away into the chill, Autumn
air.
When the bell rang about one minute before I split the scene
completely, absolutely every single student in the upstairs hallway at
Moscow Junior High School in Moscow Idaho found themselves
contemplating the question of just why, upon their return from lunch,
the entire hallway absolutely REEKED of the odor of burnt scrambled
eggs on steroids.
While my father eventually got his degree in Electrical Engineering,
his own first passion was chemistry - his part-time job in the Sierra
Nevada hard-rock gold mining town of Grass Valley, California was
preparing chemical assays of mineral samples for mining companies.
My father's first passion for chemistry is precisely why my own first
passion was chemistry as well: I managed to completely destroy Dad's
freshman UC Berkeley Chemistry textbook by no more than leafing
through it as I worked in my wonderful chem lab just outside the
Moscow City Limits.
My parents knew that by purchasing a split-level duplex when Dad
returned to the U of Idaho for grad school, they could give the
incredibe gift of the downstairs kitchen to their incredibly brilliant
yet Mad as a Fucking Hatter twelve year old son Mike.
It was my father who explained to me how mushroom sheds are
sterilized. I'm sure you must be happy to now know that the sort of
mushrooms we all find so tasty on garden salad must be grown in
completely pure cow manure.
There are some mushroom sheds along the drive from Santa Cruz north
through halfmoon bay to San Francisco. Each is the size of a large
warehouse. You must know that mushrooms are best grown in complete
darkness. I will also tell you that because of the danger of
infection taking root in all those vast quantities of pure cow shit,
all those large warehouse sized wooden buildings is also as
hermetically sealed as the architects who design them and the
carpenters who build them are able to achieve.
"Open the front doors and *securely* latch them open," Dad explained
one day. "Set up a line of buckets every ten feet or so down the
aisle from the back end of the house to the front door. Fill each
buck with pure Sufuric Acid."
"Now fill a bunch of paper lunch sacks with pure Potassium Cyanide."
Potassium cyanide is just as toxic as Hydrogen Cyanide but happily is
a completely inert solid: provided you have the sense not to eat the
stuff, you don't even need gloves to handle Potassium Cyanide with
complete safety.
"Hold all the sacks in a bundle in your arms, stand at the back end of
the shed, take a deep breath then run like Hell to the front
absolutely as fast as you can."
"As you pass each bucket of Sulfuric Acid, drop in it one of your
paper lunch sacks."
"When you burst out the front doors, your waiting coworkers will slam
those doors shut then completely seal them. Stay well clear of the
entire building for a week or so."
"After a week, sneak back, quickly pop open both doors, securely latch
them open again then split the scene completely for another week."
"At the end of that week, you may safely and causally innoculate all
that now completely sterile cow manuer with Mushroom spores. Again,
seal the doors completely."
"A few weeks later, pop upon the doors and BEHOLD! Tasty Salad and
Pizza Topping Absolutely Everywhere From Horizon To Horizon."
Your Servant,
Jonathan Swift
sw...@softwareproblem.org
convinced everyone on the planet that the Jews now possess a genocidal
psychopathy that puts Adolf Hitler deep love of and respect for Hebrew
culture completely to shame.
How?
They savagely murdered nine Turkish people who were trying to do
nothing more than to deliver some humanitarian aid to the Palestinians
who are now completely blockaded in the Gaza Strip.
You see, when Israel is determined to savagely murder every completely
innocent and defenseless Palestinian it can lay its felonious claws
on, it does NOT take kindly to those who might spoil its fun.
Right up until that point, Turkey was Israel's closest and most ardent
ally in the entire Muslim World. By so clearly explaining the error
of their ways to those Turkish humanitarians, Israel also explained
the error of their ways to every Turk who might have been so damnfool
ignorant as to think stone soap showers weren't the right way to get
fresh and clean.
If the following essay does not explain in a transparently simple and
obvious way why Israel goes to such great lengths to savagely murder
every completely defenseless Palestinian it can run down, yet has not
pointed so much as a Super Soaker in the general direction of Syrian
since it took the Golan Heights, then not only do you possess not the
sense G-d gave a Bloodletting Fluke, but you are the most dangerous
kind of psychopath and so should be hunted down and shot on sight:
The Structure of Scientific Revolutions
http://www.softwareproblem.org/lets-eat-something-good-for-our-heads/
Zyklon B was nothing more than Hydrogen Cyanide. Only a tiny whiff of
the stuff is required to put you to death in a couple minutes, your
final couple being spent largely puking your guts all over the place
while at the same time contemplating how you might get your completely
stopped heart starting ticking again.
Hydrogen Cyanide is quite easy to make and in EXTREMELY dilute form
smells quite pleasantly like Almonds. I was QUITE heavily into
chemistry long before I ever knew anything about Astronomy or Physics,
let alone software engineering, so I had the idea I might make some
nice perfume as a gift for my sister Jean by preparing for her a test
tube full of chemically pure concentrated Hydrogen Cyanide.
Hydrogen Cyanide has quite a low boiling point, and among my
experimental apparatus was a couple of the Pyrex glass chemistry lab
equivalents of the coiled copper tubing that Moonshine stills use to
recondense alcohol vapor back into liquid alcohol. They consist of
long glass cylinders about an inch and a quarter across with a helix
of glass running inside. One runs chilled water through the outer
jacket, the Hydrogen Cyanide vapor through the middle, my sister's
Final, Fatal Perfume being slowly dripped out the lower end of the
inner tube.
By doing so, I damn near gave the same gift to my fellow students at
Moscow Junior High School in Moscow Idaho the very same gift that
Adolf Hitler gave to all his Zionist buddies: I was so impressed at
what my sister's perfume actually turned out to smell like that the
very first thing I did was cork that test tube with a stopper then
take it in my shirt pocket to school with me one day.
During lunch time as he and I stood in the nearly deserted upstairs
hallway at school less than five minutes before the bell rang for the
end of lunch, I casually handed that test tube to a friend then said,
"Hey check out this perfume I made for my sister."
It is incredibly difficult to convey the true odor of concentrated
Hydrogen Cyanide in a way that will enable you to really comprehend
just how completely overcome with the very worst kind of Horror my
friend was when he proceeded to take a strong sniff directly from the
open mouth of that test tube. The closest I can come to is that pure
HCN smells roughly like burnt scrambled eggs on steroids.
He proceeded to drop that test tube from the height of his nostrils
onto the hall's hard tile floor. Quite likely the most courageous act
of my entire existence was that I knew instantly I might be about to
give my own life in hopes that I might by doing so save the lifes of
so many of my completely innocent Seventh and Eighth grade
classmates:
I ran like Hell to the Boys Room, grabbed a huge wad of paper towels,
ran back, scrubbed that little puddle completely dry and clean, made
sure I grabbed up even the tiniest little glass splinter as well then
over to the stairs and as far from the school building as I could get
before scattering all those towels completely to the wind so that the
Hydrogen Cyanide could evaporate safely away into the chill, Autumn
air.
When the bell rang about one minute before I split the scene
completely, absolutely every single student in the upstairs hallway at
Moscow Junior High School in Moscow Idaho found themselves
contemplating the question of just why, upon their return from lunch,
the entire hallway absolutely REEKED of the odor of burnt scrambled
eggs on steroids.
While my father eventually got his degree in Electrical Engineering,
his own first passion was chemistry - his part-time job in the Sierra
Nevada hard-rock gold mining town of Grass Valley, California was
preparing chemical assays of mineral samples for mining companies.
My father's first passion for chemistry is precisely why my own first
passion was chemistry as well: I managed to completely destroy Dad's
freshman UC Berkeley Chemistry textbook by no more than leafing
through it as I worked in my wonderful chem lab just outside the
Moscow City Limits.
My parents knew that by purchasing a split-level duplex when Dad
returned to the U of Idaho for grad school, they could give the
incredibe gift of the downstairs kitchen to their incredibly brilliant
yet Mad as a Fucking Hatter twelve year old son Mike.
It was my father who explained to me how mushroom sheds are
sterilized. I'm sure you must be happy to now know that the sort of
mushrooms we all find so tasty on garden salad must be grown in
completely pure cow manure.
There are some mushroom sheds along the drive from Santa Cruz north
through halfmoon bay to San Francisco. Each is the size of a large
warehouse. You must know that mushrooms are best grown in complete
darkness. I will also tell you that because of the danger of
infection taking root in all those vast quantities of pure cow shit,
all those large warehouse sized wooden buildings is also as
hermetically sealed as the architects who design them and the
carpenters who build them are able to achieve.
"Open the front doors and *securely* latch them open," Dad explained
one day. "Set up a line of buckets every ten feet or so down the
aisle from the back end of the house to the front door. Fill each
buck with pure Sufuric Acid."
"Now fill a bunch of paper lunch sacks with pure Potassium Cyanide."
Potassium cyanide is just as toxic as Hydrogen Cyanide but happily is
a completely inert solid: provided you have the sense not to eat the
stuff, you don't even need gloves to handle Potassium Cyanide with
complete safety.
"Hold all the sacks in a bundle in your arms, stand at the back end of
the shed, take a deep breath then run like Hell to the front
absolutely as fast as you can."
"As you pass each bucket of Sulfuric Acid, drop in it one of your
paper lunch sacks."
"When you burst out the front doors, your waiting coworkers will slam
those doors shut then completely seal them. Stay well clear of the
entire building for a week or so."
"After a week, sneak back, quickly pop open both doors, securely latch
them open again then split the scene completely for another week."
"At the end of that week, you may safely and causally innoculate all
that now completely sterile cow manuer with Mushroom spores. Again,
seal the doors completely."
"A few weeks later, pop upon the doors and BEHOLD! Tasty Salad and
Pizza Topping Absolutely Everywhere From Horizon To Horizon."
Your Servant,
Jonathan Swift
sw...@softwareproblem.org
Joshua Knarr
Jun 2, 2010, 6:04:49 PM6/2/10
to softwar...@googlegroups.com
I too enjoy the accomplishments of Hitler and very much enjoy his paintings, but in this case Israel clearly tried everything else before resorting to shooting. It's not like they don't have ship to ship missiles they bought from the US. If they wanted to, the palestinian ship simply could have stopped existing.
That and it takes major balls to fastrope onto a ship where everyone has clubs. That's Jackass 3 quality material right there. Someone call MTV.
That and it takes major balls to fastrope onto a ship where everyone has clubs. That's Jackass 3 quality material right there. Someone call MTV.
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