chronicle.SUE

We received this email yesterday. The subject line reads ‘Response to “No Nukes Like Good Nukes“‘ and it pretty much speaks for itself.

Hi Billy,
Your rant is back up on the June archives of RoanokeRevolution.com. I
don’t know why it disappeared, but it was not on purpose.
I know your website is intended to be funny, and I appreciate the
Onion-esque humor. However, there is an issue with misrepresentation,
especially in a small city like ours. Libel is a serious subject in
the media world, and even if you’re joking, you are not legally
allowed to misquote people, or say or imply anything untrue that could
potentially damage that person’s reputation. I hate to seem like a
killjoy, and I enjoy fun jabs as much as anyone, but if you do some
quick research on libel, you will see “No Nukes Like Good Nukes”
crossed a line. Roanoke Revolution is most definitely anti-censorship,
but an article like this that contains libel cannot legally be allowed
to remain published online.
By the way, this entire email is off the record; it is a business communication.
I could not find James Galloway’s email address, but please share my
email with him.
Thank you. Please don’t hesitate to call me if you want to discuss.
Email is often a brewing ground for misunderstood sentiments.
-Clarissa Clarke
Roanoke Revolution

Because of Clarissa Clarke’s elementary writing skills and reactionary legal instincts, we can only assume she must be kind of cute, or possibly has the sexy librarian thing going on [also, remember Clarissa Explains It All? History is definitely on her side…] so we were nice enough to remove her phone number from the email, which contains a few incredulous logical fallacies.

For example, they might as well attack us for being pro-jong-il if they consider the rest of the site credible as well. So is it true that in addition to being in full support of preemptive nuclear warfare, the Roanoke Revolution staff cares more about their reputations than the poor fucks jong has kept in his prisons, guarded from knowledge of anything else?

Soviet Chronicle meets Roanoke Revolution
The Roanoke Revulsion's recent confrontation with the Soviet Chronicle is best characterized as a mirror facing a mirror, looking onward into an infinite spiral of self-aggrandizement.

The Story of Open Eyes and the Effect on Society

Emotions aren’t regularly properly expressed. But today it happened in the unlikeliest of places when a young man went on Facebook and told a girl he still likes that he still likes her.

To the outside community, she is essentially unlikable and yet, feels nothing for him. To protect the names of the dastardly, The Chronicle.SU can not even provide a description because the callousness and distatefulness of this particular girl is so distinct, any complaint about her is too revealing and she will run to the internet cops boohooing over her yeasty, smegma-coated vagina. So trust us this time, as you always do, that she’s lame to the point of unmentionable.

Of course, she would disagree, but the absence of her own voice on Facebook indicates nothing of the sort. One of her friends implied that the young man’s feelings were irrelevant, writing in a condescending tone so as to belittle him in the act of expression – a clandestine female maneuver that in many cases renders a man impotent on the spot. But in this case, the young man spoke as Stalin from the Glory Days might have spoken, by counterattacking the very ideology behind her comment’s motivation.

Speaking with poignancy, the young man described his disgust for a system of fear-based behavior patterns and built-in aversions to honesty and direct lines of communication, temporarily disabling the groupthink mentality of Facebook readers in this rippling epicenter of truth. That is to say, he did what he felt like and defended his feelings of love from an attack driven by feelings of fear itself – of oneself. No remorse.

In response, the girl’s friend publicly discussed sex and attacked the young man’s set of core values, flawed as she saw them, but failed to cite examples. Fear-based arguments are generally rooted in the unknown. In this case, she didn’t know what should be important to someone attempting to live a meaningful life and therefore could provide no argument against any other idea, publicly embarrassing herself. Following this, she admitted defeat by copying and pasting a statement from the boy’s response, [as if to kick him while “down”] but her hate-motivated actions would only serve to reinforce its meaning. But why should she care? Why should she try to hurt him by telling him that it shouldn’t hurt? Furthermore, why does actively want to publicly hurt another human being? The eyes of Fear have officially closed for one young man, and the girl you’re reading about here is the afterimage.

All because he said, “This doesn’t matter, because nothing matters, so go on about your judgmental business.”

Meanwhile, the lame girl of his admiration continues to be lame and it drives the young man crazy because seeing through the eyes of love coats the subject in the eye of the beholder with a thin layer of positive potential. This is the pain of loving.

And that a member of our society can publicly contrive his reason for feeling as sex, reprimand and reduce him for feeling emotions over it disgusts the Soviet Chronicle, which is why we, representing the Second Rise of the Soviet Union, are hereby promoting our brand new Anti-Fear Campaign in the Name of Love.

We propose to our readers, and Comrades, that if you feel something like love, then you should follow it, even if at first it is difficult coming to terms with the truth or opens you up to vulnerability. Be adventurous. To live is the reason for survival.

A Facebooker who wished to remain anonymous told the Chronicle.SU to “Think before you act, but think good, loving thoughts. This is the shortest path to a good life, and easily the most rewarding. I’m not talking about that ‘power of positive thinking’ bullshit, but about love producing love, man. It’s 2010. Are you going to be happy or not?”

Love one another, for the Revolution.

FEAR NOTHING

revolutionistWe live in the time of now. We die tomorrow. But we weren’t born yesterday.

Resist the illusion of freedom now and truly confine yourself as an outlaw in the shadows of uprising.

Voting is weak, and the issues on which we vote are equally meaningless and weak.

Strong is the hand of armed revolt.

We have hands…

The Chronicle Manifesto

Terror Rally ends in glorious victory

In the heart of a black sun morning, my chest was pouring my love adoringly over you, but
In the overcast overmind soul decay, the tooth aloof amassed fast to say what’s real is only phony.

All’s baloney, Jim Mahoney!

Come what may, the preachers pray Karl Malone, he shoots a three and earns him lots of money ’cause my bet is on the pony.

Sick dilution soul’s pollution come come come on restitution
’cause this destitution’s tripping me
Out on the fields of sea lions and seals
I’m looking for the Walrus, man the bridge, is out and Paul, Ringo, and Saul of the Molemen, please, come in.

The Chronicle speaks and leaks truth and disease, mal-ease and pleases the masses
to hear what they fear on deaf ears and dead eyes,
paralyzed by marketing, advertised lies, loan sharking and bastardized
the size of a scene in a dream that seems brighter, beautiful, more green
than previously perceived, deceived by the president, relieved by the precedent,
set crescent moon in the view of the smog, over pogs, peace frogs and hippies with the drip,
acid tripping, time perception clipping, nation-overstepping
conglomeration double-pacing human devolution
loss of the thumb, get dumb, watch crack, listen to choosic, it’s a revolution.

And lose it, drink beer, this bud’s for you, the blue’s clues, it’s
Bred to bleed these thoughts, get taught that your brain rots
swallow, chug, belch and absorb salt, Heart’s shot, here’s a shot
And prescription, no description of what it is or what it’s not.

Don’t sell yourself short, get bought, Stamped and dated,
register yourself online and get rated,
And in just in case it wasn’t plainly stated,
Your ass belongs to Lebal Drocer Incorporated.

Editor’s note: asdfjkl;

Indonesian Tax System Buys More Poverty To Feed The Rich

Dear elfwax, I am a fans of Chronicle.su. I live in 3rd wolrd country namely Indonesia. I have no social security numbers which is great!

The governemnt is suck lately, they force us to have tax number lately instead of social security number.

We are new with this kind of thing. it feels like we are haunted. the tax number attached till I die, reporting tax every year. penalty if we dont/late report. everything is taxed. we pay 10% additional tax for food, drink at restaurant. 21% for more expensive restaurant.

it is called income tax, i dont know how to call this double/triple multiple tax. we pay for the income, and pay another tax again when buying things.

that is what people do at 1st world country. everybody has to report tax, but we are still a 3rd world country!

our tax is used for paying the parliament member, paying their abroad trip, paying their office car. toyota crown! they want to build a new office for the parliament member with spa and gym and pool inside.

miley-cyrus-lapdance-video

Falls Church, Va.–Miley Cyrus bares all in her latest music video “I’m Becoming Brittany Spears” known for its catchy chorus, “You’ll see it even after you close eyes.”

I can’t find shit on Google Trends. What people Google is so uninteresting to me. It’s football scores – oh, and Miley Cyrus CAUGHT ON CAMERA DIGGING DISNEY PANTIES FROM ITCHY, DIRTY BUTTHOLE.

It demonstrates there isn’t much on people’s minds, at least not all at the same time. Regardless, the internet has the potential to both undo and multiply the advances of mankind, but for now, people are still using it to masturbate with. What a weird event it would be if all at once, Google was spammed with massive amounts of messages from humanity’s own collective unconscious!

HOT TRENDS INCLUDE:

  1. jailbait videos of my inner child
  2. 1
  3. 0
  4. “did you feel that?”
  5. yes this is really happening

HOT TOPICS:

  1. all time irrelevant, miley cyrus pronounced “child forever”
  2. nothing is real, except this message
  3. mainstream media not so mainstream once contrasted with galactic plane
  4. america finally satisfies its problems with war
  5. carl sagan auto tuned

Glorified beastly disaster upstairs, in the kitchen. I think it was a pot of chili but flames engulfed the stove and eventually the curtains. Nobody cares.

Pollution crept in through the floorboards this morning and we celebrated its hallucinogenic properties over a game of chess, followed by extensive blackouts.

All this, over Roseanne playing in the other room. The show was better during the original time, when the Brauny paper towel commercials ran, and at a normal volume too. We agreed that we are officially insane and conceded to lunacy, only to realize we were still in control enough to shoot guns, so we went outside. What happened next is anybody’s guess, and we lost the clip.

Later I ran outside and threw apples at a cow. It stood lazily, apples bouncing off its hollow-sounding noggin, its fat ass so content to eat them. At this, I laughed so hard I could barely stand to throw apples, which incited yet more laughter. I thought, “This must be how Hindus feel.”

And science shows that is in fact how they feel, thanks to a newly patended device by the Russian government that alters the weather patterns over Siberia as well as picking up the quantum vibrations of subtle human intent. Emotion-monitors are set to be installed on all new Segways to prevent their owner and designer from riding one over a cliff, however sources indicate there may be no way to tell if the devices will actually work, given that the Segway owner has already driven off a cliff and died on his Segway.

Tomorrow, the dawn of the nuclear apocalypse is rising and Americans have not even begun to dig any 1950s throwback bomb shelter graves, according to satellite surveillance photographs of their yards; while others appear to pray for death on an hourly basis.

Lebal Drocer Executive Jim Gray, PhD[izzle] converted his truck to a bio-diesel economy car, and later into a carbomb, inviting employees to a company picnic to have their own vehicles turned into bombs. He said the picnic bomb derby provides an opportunity for parents to engage their children.

He noted father-son activity research centers would likely see a healthy spike before sharply declining following a staunch lack of fathers and sons.

“Son, now I know your mother doesn’t want you playing with suicide devices until you’re older, but…be a man.”

Terrorism is to America what Miley Cyrus is to the adult world. A fading threat, and more of a reason to pull out than stay in at this point. One month and eleven days from now, Miley Cyrus turns 18. Until then, combat troops are still stationed in Afghanistan, South Korea, operating in Pakistan, and in some cases Sub-Saharan Africa, and the former Soviet Union.

Oh shit, I’m tripping hard. Read over this again, and take notes on why you’re wrong.

New Century American Motto

“You better watch out. She’ll lay that pussy on you.”

Drinking beers, sharing fears. Drunk and eager women splay themselves across me while the fire burns our legs. And I look into her eyes to find lust and distrust, and an attitude of despondency coupled with belligerence, if it feels good.

It’s open season on the American way of life. The FBI can safely and legally plant tracking devices on your car now. Until it goes to the Supreme Court, which it might never, it’s legal – even if “outlawed” it will go on. Who enforces the law? The criminal dogs that oversee us.

Fraudulence infects every facet of human behavior, life, and lies are the ethical way, so as not to hurt or dismiss another’s potential to suck you off.

Fuck this fake-ass charade, puppeteer conglomerate meltdown frenzy. Millions of Americans ready to work and can’t get shit off the ground. Credit bubble human enslavement crisis not only on the horizon but in our faces. In our blood, in our bank accounts, the freedom virus lives, breeds, counter intuitively thrives on your ignorance, and pattern of submission.

The government knows what you do, where you sleep. Get your cars checked out. If you’re trouble, then you’re watched. Of course, you’re not trouble. You just write stupid shit. Bomb shit.

If you write anything at all, which you don’t.

Empty notebooks stare back at you in a jealous fit, so eager to be full as you, and yet so blank and pathetic. Like you.