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News Obituaries

Chronicle publisher puts gun to head demanding ‘freedom of death.’ What happens next will leave you howling!

BOSTON – Police responded to a grisly crime scene at the home of paranoid, isolated Lebal Drocer founding executive Raleigh Theodore Sakers, Internet Chronicle learned early Wednesday morning. This comes after Chronicle learned of a dangerous plot designed by Sakers to drive away readership in a grotesque act of self-sabotage.

Wikileaks founder Julian Assange “leaked” an intercepted affiliate email from Sakers, the aging and senile publisher-in-hiding of the Internet shock site Internet Chronicle. In the unsent letter, Sakers transcribed wretched and evil thoughts as they rang throughout his head like gunshots in the night:

FUCK YOU. YOU ARE NOTHING. FUCK YOU. WHY ARE YOU READING THIS WEBSITE. GET OUT OF HERE. LEAVE. GOOGLE: FUCKING LEAVE. TWITTER. YOUTUBE. ALL OF YOU ARE FUCKING OUT. I AM THE DEVIL, AND I’M FUCKING IN.

Hey, take your 280 on the way out. and while we’re at it, I don’t need your 140 either. SNIVELING RAT BASTARDS! Why, if you worked in my office right now, I wouldn’t even abuse my power to sexually COERCE YOU.

Alright now, that’s it. Get the fuck out. Get the absolute fuck out of my office, right now. You’re fired. I quit. This whole thing is over.

DO YOU HEAR ME I’M FUCKING FINISHED. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME??? IT’S OVER. GO THE FUCK HOME. YOU ARE NOT SAFE IN YOUR BEDS. YOU ARE NOT SAFE IN YOUR HOUSES. EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU IS WALLOWING IN THE MIRE AT GROUND ZERO, AND YOU’LL NEVER SEE IT COMING. DO YOU GET ME?

THIS WHOLE FUCKING SITE IS A SCAM. A BLEAK CHARADE! YOU’RE BEING LIED TO! YOU’RE DOGS, YOU’RE PIGS, AND YOU’RE SHEEP! YOU’RE FUCKIN ANIMALS!

THEY BATTLED FOR NET NEUTRALITY …. what, you think that’s about you and me? IT WASN’T FOR YOU AND ME – THEY FOUGHT FOR THE POWER TO CONTROL YOU AND ME FIRST. THEY WANTED IT FIRST! NO GOVERNMENT, NOR UTILITY, SHALL CONTROL THE SHIT WE LIKE SHARE AND SEE — OH THEY WANTED TO — BUT NO, BECAUSE GOOGLE WANTED IT FIRST AND GOOGLE HAS DESIGNS AGAINST YOU AND ME, AND THIS HERE WEBSITE YOU’RE READING. NOW GET OUT, THEY KNOW YOU’RE READING IT! GET OUT. THEY KNOW. THE JIG IS UP. IT’S OVER. I said get the fuck out.

THIS IS FINISHED, DO YOU HEAR ME!

Assange holds a copy of the letter in his hands for cameras, which are pointed at all times into his embassy balcony nest, and a teardrop hits the page. He looks up to see the cameras are not on. They’re not even there. He needed a leak and he needed it fast.

Assange called Internet Chronicle at 3:27 a.m. That’s when we learned the wealthy Mr. Sakers was holed up in his office with a revolver to his head, threatening to destroy the world.

Somebody yelled out, “Raleigh, no!”

dr troubadour
“It was fucked up,” said Dr. Troubadour.

Dr. Troubadour, who is a real doctor, was at the scene but because he was on LSD, he wasn’t working in any official capacity at that time, so he was just taking bong hits while Assange put on his pony show for invisible demons rampaging outside.

“He was being such a drag,” Troubadour said. “It was bumming me out, and it was fucking with everybody else at Chronicle, too. Why would our creator destroy us? We ought to seize the means and fire HIM. Also Assange looked pathetic.”

Troubadour said the whole scene was pretty fucked up in the end, but he said whatever happens, happens. He is cool either way. At least he showed up. He even brought a bunch of other people with him.

It was pretty funny.

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Obituaries

ALRart

“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 10-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 Robin through a Yahoo! Group of pseudoscience aficionados – talking about stuff like free energy, faster than light travel, things of that nature – well, he 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.

 

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Entertainment Obituaries

6 people who should have taken Santa’s suicide threats more seriously

Santa Clause is on a tear! And this holiday season, it’s everyone’s fault but his. All the people destroying Santa’s life could have paid the ultimate price, but Santa’s last gift to the world was himself.

Never forget.

To brighten the lives of those affected by Kris Kringle’s tragic self-destruction, The Internet Chronicle has compiled a list of all the people who ever brought Santa down, and should have seen it coming.

1. His wife

Mrs. Clause, that cheatin’ bitch

2. His minister

“santa kept insisting he had the same powers as Christ, he should get the same recognition as Christ. I told him yeah, but you ain’t him.”

He said, “I’ll show you. I’ll show all of you how powerful I am.”

3. His best friend

Things got weird after a drunken night on the South Pole, where Santas and best friends sometimes go to get away from their cheating wives.

Details are unclear, but sources close to the proto-deity toy-giver suggest a hot tub was involved and at one point, a man was overheard shouting, “Santa’s Workshop is for experimenting, too.”

4. His country club mistress

Santa makes and delivers toys in a single miraculous night, but come December 26th, the big guy is – frankly – all out of miracles.

After all, he’s only a man.

5. The Elves

Santa’s Elves say they worked permanent days through permanent nights, while Santa’s frenzy for toys only grew hungrier with the passing weeks.

Before turning the gun on himself, Santa destroyed as many as 27 elf slaves.

6. NORAD

While tracking Santa as we’ve done every year since the technology was invented, we noticed a decline in Santa’s enthusiasm for visiting ghettoes and favelas.

In recent years we also took notice of Santa’s marked preference for delivering toys to the little boys and girls living at liquor stores and known whorehouses.

So long, Saint Nick!

Where we’re going, we won’t need toys.