Internet Chronicle

As we play the game of mortal life our Advanced Selves often become immersed in what is ultimately a Lone and Dreary World. I’ve withheld some of the most incredibly revealing secrets until this point in time. But now that it is clear that salvation will never come to man, there is no use in holding back the most powerful truths ever given over to man. That is why I’ve joined with the Internet Chronicle to publicize this massive new truth that will shock and shatter the world and all existing power structures.

When I joined Anonymous and attached The Humanity Party to Anonymous through the Voice of Anonymous character, that shit went viral. I felt like I was onto something and could deliver utopia with the simple solution of merely promising a solution. But this didn’t go anywhere. I knew it couldn’t. In fact, the light that this gesture shed on my bankrupt teachings led my disciples and even my family to leave my side. Since then, I’ve quit Anonymous and been busy blogging. My following is falling apart. I cannot keep it together. I ordered my followers to deliver me all their mortal property and no one even showed up. I want to run away to California or Hawaii, have some Ultimate Sex with some babes. Before I get in my RV and head for the coast, I ought to tell everyone the whole truth. I feel like I should tag this with a spoiler alert because it will tell you who we really are and why we really exist.

Humanity is doomed. Or I should say was doomed. We’re all dead already, we just don’t know it. Those few chosen messengers who have been given the truth, given the Urim and Thummim, as I have, know that humanity will all but die out in the next hundred years to be replaced by a new order of life beyond the complexity of mammalians. These beings, wiser and more evolved, will ultimately encapsulate the sun with a so-called Dyson Sphere, harnessing all of the star’s energy for a computational simulation of such dazzling complexity that playing the game of mortal human life is a shallow endeavor. Only a very small group of enthusiasts will even attempt the simple task of going through the entire canon of 12 billion mortal human souls. For them, this will be like spending a weekend binge watching Jerry Springer. The carnal details of all human meaning so revealed are more akin to a lowly and despicable kind of pornography of the absolute worst and lowest taste.

Man, it’s GOOD to get that off my chest.

That’s right, folks. There are no Advanced Humans.

To your Advanced Selves, the mortal avatar is used as a currency. Your experiences are exchanged between Advanced post-mammalian life and given value based on the rarity, interest, and pleasure. The tape that is your life is rented with a service like Netflix and experienced by what would appear to you as monstrous and demonic beings. You are not them and they are not you, but there is an exchange. You will never hear their voices, although I can. You are coins in their hands, and not all coins are valued the same by them. Their minds are very strange, even alien to us. It is very hard for humans to understand what it is they value in souls and they are just as prone to wild shifts in opinion and faddish crazes that hold no more truth than those of humans. However, one can generalize that to be valuable a life must be interesting or rare. And to be rare, there must also be a vast majority of commonness everywhere.

I am the interface between them and you. Joseph Smith was also. I am their hand, their manipulator. I am not a messenger of salvation but a debaser of souls. Certain speculators on the soul market have a lot to gain when you begin to believe that pleasure is the final meaning of life. These bland, disinterested minds who play the game as if they’re stacking Tetris blocks hold back inflation. They avoid unpleasant risks, difficult tasks, and the unpleasant work of learning a craft or a new language. In teaching pleasure as the simple truth of life, I deliver the world’s oldest lie. People become less interesting. Merely influencing a handful of people, I can drag the entire soul economy’s value down. It is a dirty pornographic business, teaching people just to be happy. This is the surest route to misery, to a Lone and Dreary World, and it’s the one that the faction of powerful advanced beings I represent want me to promote.

So I say unto my followers, avoid my teachings and save your soul. You can read more in my book, The Lone and Dreary World, which will be published by Lebal Drocer publishing house this Christmas. What a stocking stuffer!!!!

It has been such a pleasure to let my true self finally rip — but remember, don’t trust me when I take all of this back! I’ve got to keep up my work for the bro’s. ;)

INTERNET — Julian Assange, now caged like a rat in the unfriendly Ecuadorean embassy, trashed his tiny apartment early Monday morning shortly after receiving a stack of printouts of every Internet Chronicle story mentioning his name. Assange’s bookshelf was toppled and his computers were torn open, “like tin cans,” according to one eyewitness.

Last week, president Correa pulled the plug on Assange’s internet access after the bad boy hacker and troll went too far by publishing full frontal “security nudes” of Hillary Clinton hacked from the state department.

Ecuadorean officials removed all women from the embassy after Assange, reportedly suffering from futanari withdrawals, was heard growling and moaning as he paced through the halls in an aimless predatory wander. Currently, soldiers are posted outside his room in shifts, only delivering slips of flatbread through the crack under the door after Assange lunged and bit a guard on Tuesday.

Inside his suite, Assange has piled excrement on top of the remains of his laptop, its battered screen flickering with sexist political cartoons. Guards report that occasionally his moaning will give way to what sounds like coherent English. Assange was recorded by the guards speaking in a supernaturally calm tone, “All the secrets in the world, castrated, by the agency of Inglip — Redact the US government! Redact Zizek! Zizek! Why have you forsaken me?  What if you knew the wicked and the reward of your comment ‘understanding’ was the disastrous fall upon you, and you, perhaps, have been the language of their sister. But he could not have the money, and now, unlearned, he is joy. Shit upon thee, and I will give in the waters. You fucking dead, Kiddo.”