Sean Hannity Dead at 55

Sean Hannity was found dead, his body covered in Fentanyl patches

INTERNET — Fans mourn the loss of conservative pundit Sean Hannity who was found dead in a Fox News bathroom Wednesday evening. Coworkers reportedly found Hannity’s naked body “mummified” with Fentanyl, a transdermal opiate patch. Authorities confirmed the talk radio superstar died from the resulting drug overdose after applying seventy five of the slow-release painkiller patches.

Hannity’s death came just minutes after disciplinary action from Fox News executives. The talk show host refused to back down from reporting a bogus story claiming Hillary Clinton hired a hit man to kill alleged email leaker Seth Rich. Fox News lost nearly 300 million dollars in advertising deals this afternoon, after Rich’s family begged Hannity to stop spreading unfounded conspiracy theories about his murder.

Long time Hannity frenemy, Rush Limbaugh, told listeners Hannity picked up the nasty opiate habit at a Fox News 9/11 ‘ratings party’ in 2004. Limbaugh said, “Baby Jesus [Hannity] thought he could handle the hard stuff, but it can castrate even the biggest man. I made it out, but not many do. Rest In Peace, Baby Jesus.”

However, a growing contingent of so-called ‘alt right’ conspiracists believe Hannity is just the latest murder victim of a cult-like democratic party that is gaining satanic powers by eating the pineal glands out of gang raped children. Alex Jones told listeners, “This is it folks, this is the purge. I’ll be damn surprised if I make it to next year, much less next week. Hide your children folks, these satanists are coming for them sooner than later.”

‘Donald Trump did nothing wrong’: Critics SLAM Melania for refusing to stand by her man

Melania Trump disrespected her husband in front of the entire world.

A group of women from the Focus on the Family for Profit charity foundation cried out in protest Monday after soon-to-be-Former First Lady Melania Trump disrespected the President in front of their Israeli hosts by selfishly swatting Donald’s hand away as he reached out for support. Continue reading “‘Donald Trump did nothing wrong’: Critics SLAM Melania for refusing to stand by her man”

Trump’s first visit to home town of New York City met with [glorious praise]

DADDY IS HOME

President Trump returned home Thursday, for the first time since becoming national daddy.

Thousands of demonstrators appeared at the Intrepid military museum, a decommissioned warship docked in lower Manhattan, where President Trump met right-wing Australian Prime Minister Malcolm “X” Turnbull. Continue reading “Trump’s first visit to home town of New York City met with [glorious praise]”

VICE: We attended a New York May Day demonstration, got bored and left early

“Looks like May Day has a case of the Mondays.” – @kilgoar

A couple days ago I visited Union Square during the opening remarks of the Democratic Socialists of America. It was boring, and I did not stay for the 5 o’clock march to City Hall.

Kilgoar and I anticipated seeing Twitter personalities there, but they were all reportedly wearing masks, so I could not identify or contact them.

Beyond showing up, barely on time, little to no effort was put into coverage of this event.

Listen here:

http://chronicle.su/radio/attachment/dsa/

Expect the same during tomorrow’s coverage of the protests scheduled during President Trump’s first visit to his hometown of New York City.

“You’ll have to clamber with great effort to beat other protesters to the front,” Kilgoar advised, “because they have been hardened by the city.”

Baby’s Day Out: Hatesec goes to New York

Upon arrival, I slept for 12 hours.

This morning I woke up, took a long shower, and hit the road. I walked a mile through Queens to the Rosedale Station, where I’m sitting now.

On the way I purchased half a chicken, a half pound of Spanish rice, and a bottle of Coke for $9. So much for kicking soda. I am now carrying a quarter chicken and most of the rice around with me.

Yesterday, out of desperate starvation, I bought a $3 hot dog from a cart near Penn Station, where I took this photo:

Ladies: hatesec has arrived.

I turned around from the hot dog vendor and accidentally made eye contact with an old man, from three feet away, who was literally eating meat off a chicken bone from the garbage, and staring intensely at me as he did so, as if I were the one making him do it. There was something simultaneously punk and horrifying about meeting eyes with a man hunched over a trash can for his dinner plate. And that is when I realized I am one stolen debit card away from jockeying for position over the good trash cans around tourist hubs.

So what did I do next? I stuck my fucking debit card into the greasy, diseased, yawning hole that is the MTA ticket box, and bought a ticket to Queens.

Sleep is my home now. Everything else around me is temporary and unfamiliar. It’s exciting and dreadful at the same time. But as long as these uncertain days are punctuated by quality sleep, then everything else is going to be just fine.

Today I am purchasing a monthly MTA card, so I only hear the cash register bang once, instead of repeatedly throughout the day. It’s usually not so much the price that bothers me, but the experience of spending.

Fortunately, I give off that vibe. Yesterday I was approached by a bum on the street who took one look at me and threw out his hand in dismissal. He grunted and, under his breath, muttered, “Forget it.”

I am on my way to Manhattan, for no particular reason.

ALRart

ALRart.net

“CRAZY. CRACKPOT. FOOL. CRIMINALLY INSANE.”

These are words I once used to describe my schizophrenic writer, an inventor, artist, poet – and a visionary unlike any other person in this world. Today, nothing has changed, except to say he is no longer with us.

Recently the one-year anniversary of his death – and his birthday – came to pass, and I would like to honor my dear friend, Alistair Robin Rowntree, by sharing his story with you now.

I met ALRart through a Yahoo! Group of pseudoscience aficionados – talking about stuff like free energy, faster than light travel, things of that nature – well, ALRart was so far “out there” that even these guys wouldn’t have him. “Who was that guy?” “Just some nutcase,” another said. I wanted to see who they were talking about and I found ALRart’s website:

A maze of links – some of them hidden – that documented his progress through the research and development process of free energy devices, torsion fields and a very special “RINGGO STARGATE” capable of carrying humans to other, possibly better, dimensions.

So I asked him to write for us, which he immediately accepted. We gave him an avenue of pure insanity wherein our friends and readers supported him, without teasing or berating his efforts. He spoke of free love, eternal life and spiritual peace, recoloring what would otherwise be failures into endeavors of scientific purity – innocent trial-and-error. We never once questioned his integrity as an inventor – only asked for explanations, or request that he further his ideas. We shared thoughts with him and it was beautiful.

We have a running joke that ALRart never died, but that he finally got his stargate running.

During experimentation, ALRart claimed to stand in the center of his stargate where he “felt a strangeness” but no word on whether he ever perfected it. However, over the course of designing what may have amounted to a massive collection of functionless sculptures, ALRart created elaborate visual works of unintentional beauty and intricacy using glass and imaging software. After all, there was a fair deal of math involved, and he may have been crazy but he wasn’t stupid.

And that is why for the longest time we did not trust him to be who he said he was, in spite of his intensely loving personality.

And because of the great distance between us – he lived in New Zealand – he became this mythical, legendary persona, like God, only somewhat more real and he answered our questions. But even though I spoke to him over Skype, and we exchanged email, we were never fully certain ALRart was a real person. That is, until I searched him out recently to try to find out where he’s been.

ALRart loved to travel, and I hoped to see something on his website about exploring New Zealand, or to learn he’s been getting high in the attic and no longer trusts the internet. But right there in the first few links of my google search was an obituary I thought I would never see.

Around three o’clock in the afternoon, on his 56th birthday, September 24, 2010 ALRart’s heart stopped. He was diabetic and didn’t take his medicines right, and he died in an ambulance en route to the hospital. Well, that’s the official story the papers ran.

We, of the chronicle.su, know otherwise. At 3 p.m. On the 24th of September, 2010, ALRart secured his place among the stars after successfully passing through the world’s first completed RINGGO STARGATE and into a dimension where there is no more pain, no more suffering, no unhappiness or ridicule. Where there are no failures. No fear. ALRart is at permanent unending peace.