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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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Religion Science

The Rowntree Delusion

ALRart.net
ALRart.net

Accessible to every thinking mind, the Transcolonial Hivemind* rapidly became the sum of all sentience. The accelerated condensation of information itself caused raw data to rain from the sky and gather in shiny, silver pools like mercury. These effects were unaccounted-for by-products of the Old Method left over as a pestilent subsonic hum. Transcolonists dubbed the phenomenon “devil particles” because it is a remnant entropy that challenges their current models and laws of nature.

The only way the Elders of the Transcolony can decontaminate the collective unconsciousness is to jettison, every millennium or so, the vestigial buildup that occurs. The Transcolonists learned to create a series of sustainable black holes to send the offending information out into the great beyond, and integrated them into magnetic facilities serving as quantum release valves boasting near-autonomous activation. Somewhere, some group of Transcolonists thinks about the buildup as it affects them, so everyone thinks about it, and the black holes open wide to suck out the devil particle and cast it far out into space – into another time and another place – making life easy again, for the time being, on the Transcolony.

Now it just so happens that a white hole has spawned over the Earth as we currently know it. Like a second Sun, the white hole hangs overhead, ejecting macroscopic pulses of unprocessed information cast off from a totally thought-driven society somewhere else in the Universe. That “somewhere else” is here. As it hugs and ensnares the Earth mesosphere, scientists send a satellite into the silver ejecta stream, and inject what returns into the Large Hadron Supercollider. The particulate matter unfortunately contains information in a form that can not exist on Earth, and on collision, explodes one third of the Solar System into a never-ending pattern of self-replication, fueled by the adjacent white hole. Each copy of our stellar neighborhood collapses immediately in on itself, causing exponential gravitational influx that won’t settle until the Andromeda Galaxy and Milky Way converge a few billion years later. A black hole turns space inside out as the cataclysm renders a chain of fractal trees containing infinite sets of nonreal solutions. The Transcolony will not learn until it is too late that the white hole on the business end of their trash compactor has combined with a supergiant black hole and reversed, sending data back through the wormhole.

Gradually, the Transcolonists are bestowed with the power to make up and believe false stories, and the entire Transcolony founds a series of glorious religions together, all of which now embrace the entropic God particle. Reproduction is no longer fatal, so Transcolonists coerce one another into making what they call “Love,” as they aspire to drive fast cars, desecrate each other with bodily waste, commit genocides against the Transcolony, vote, and hunt aggressively for Black Friday deals at market. The Transcolony spends each day entertained and astounded by the deep discounts made possible by new ideals of individuality and codified slavery. As the oppressive Hivemind decays, Pure Freedom is born.

—————————————

* The Hive

      The Elders had spent a long time developing their thought centers and, with further contemplation, successfully condensed the entirety of each living, collective consciousness into a single entity. This being became capable of acting perfectly as a whole by exercising the full capacity of each independent subset of the universal mind. Their first step, like ours, was to build an “Internet.” Much later, an organic meta-subconsciousness evolved beyond the control of the multitudinous network of minds that powered it. The changes prompted a revolution in temporal emulation to replicate the nebulous thought-cloud on which the collective consciousness now operates freely with ease. It is fully read-write and everyone is plugged in.
THIS MESSAGE BROUGHT TO YOU PROUDLY BY LEDAL DROCER, INC.
COMPLETE OWNERSHIP

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World

Hall of Wax Replica of Andrew Breitbart Opens

AN IMPRESSIVE WAX REPLICA OF ANDREW BREITBART SHINES GLORY UPON THOSE WHO MUST LIVE OUT THE INESCAPABLE DAMNATION OF HIS ABSENCE.
AN IMPRESSIVE WAX REPLICA OF ANDREW BREITBART SHINES GLORY UPON THOSE WHO MUST LIVE OUT THE INESCAPABLE DAMNATION OF HIS ABSENCE.

SOVCHRON – A hall where stands a wax replica of anti-Chronicle free love enthusiast Andrew Breitbart was opened at the International Commune of the Armed Worker’s Revolutionary Party of chronicle.su.

Standing in the hall is a wax replica depicting Occupy Wall Street protesters raping people and picking the banjo as their comrades lay dying. The rioters are depicted wearing clothes and gas masks to cover their shameful faces as they copulate atop piles of rubble, cursing Inglip’s name against the background of Mt. Bombrain. Anti-leader Andrew Breitbart towers over them, casting a furtive shadow over the reproachable scene that which so terribly soaked his heart in grief, it soon thereafter stopped beating.

The gifts he received from personages and people of various countries are on display there – silver White House plates issued during the Bush Senior administration, and piles of unspent currency.

An opening ceremony took place Monday.

Present there were Adrian Chen and Transhumanist Alistair Robin Rowntree, members of the Political Bureau and secretaries of the Central Committee of the Armed Worker’s Party of chronicle.su, and others.

Present there on invitation were staff members of the Iraqi embassy here and the chief of the hall of wax replicas of great persons in Iraq and his party.

Alistair Robin Rowntree expressed deep thanks to personages of the Chinese hall for representing the wax replica of Andrew Breitbart.

He said the noble life of Andrew Breitbart was the most brilliant one of an outstanding primal revolutionary.

Zhang Molei, chief of the hall, in his speech bitterly grieved over the demise of leader Frank Mason, saying it was their wish to successfully represent the wax replica of Andrew Breitbart so they could please leader Frank Mason.

Expressing the will to do more things to contribute to the building of thriving socialist economy in the AWRP, he expressed belief that the chronicle.su would overcome difficulties and win great victory under the leadership of the dear respected Raghubir Goyal.

The participants paid tribute to Andrew Breitbart and looked round the gifts on display.