p***@gmail.com
2006-04-26 05:18:00 UTC
In the posting below, Robert Griffin brags about his money, claims to
be the
very best in his field of work, states that others are jealous of him,
says he's a "legend below the waste". Griffin also shows himself to
be a true racist by heaping scorn and hatred on the Australian
aboriginal community when he states, "The natives in my home land are
little more than sycophantic weaklings. They are contemptible..."
Nice going, Pym. You truly are a k00k and the posting below proves
that fact...
Here it is, folks! Robert Griffin of NSW Australia, in one of his
kookiest moments on Usenet! Arrogance, greed, racism - yep! This
posting has got it all!
==============================================================
Message-ID: <***@end.of.tether>
From: The Disillusionist <***@end.of.tether>
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Subject: Manifesto : Enough is enough.
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Stop reading now if you don't like rants.
I am sick and tired of my life and I wish to end it.
I am not mentally ill; I have full control of my faculties; I have not
rushed into this decision lightly or hastily. This is why my e-mail
address is fake. I don't want life affirming crap posted to me. I
don't want to be told "it's going to get better".
I don't want to get involved. I want to stay distant, like the people
that I care about and love want to stay distant from me. I have a
right to remain anonymous if I so choose - to protect those who could
be
conceivably be harassed or slandered by my actions or inactions, and
to prevent intervention by family or others of my plans to end my
miserable existence. So, for those who would disturb me :
"Why do you always wrongly assume
That you're so well aware of what's happening there,
Right here in this room?
You're just an antenna, you're just a wire.
There's a thousand tongues wagging in your ears tonight,
And you turn around and you call me a liar.
Lightly babe, oh the fine lights cannot find you.
She stay out my way, it's the pulse I am aligned to.
And everything you say, you'll need that breath one day.
Well, you're just an antenna, you're just a code.
You translate like a book, the fuses all cook
You eat humble pie and it tastes of the road......."
Nothing will change in my world. As change is an necessary part of
life, something that I want and desire, the impossibility of this is at
odds
to my desires and wishes. *I* have control over my biological
continuance, it is perhaps the only aspect of my 'life' that I do have
control over.
ASH should be a place where I can express my thoughts and desires. It
was at one time; so it shall be now. Therefore, I shall. And I shall
ignore any of the troll-like life affirming crap which may follow. I
don't need anyone to examine why I should do this or do that; I don't
have to give anyone any reason whatsoever. I am not accountable to
you, nor do I have to justify myself to you. *I* will choose; and *I*
give
myself the right to die with dignaty, if I so choose.
Having said all that as a disclaimer, I shall now vent my thoughts,
with the aid of the words from an album of which I particularly enjoy,
supplemented with my own words.
"Where can a soldier fix himself a drink
Forget the noise, forget the stink
And the opium is running pretty low
'Cause when the pain comes back, I don't want to know...."
I need something to take away the pain. Despite much searching, I am
unable to find it. Drugs do not work - neither recreational nor
prescription. I met someone in the most unlikely of places, who might
have changed my mind about many things, about everything. The only
relief is getting drunk out of my mind, which I shall do in a short
time. It is a temporary answer, not a long-term solution. If I am
drunk enough, I will perhaps have the strength and the will to do more
than
merely prattle about ending my pain permanently, and actually do
something practical about it.
"Across yonder ocean the natives are fierce
Their ears are filled their teeth are pierced
But it's not their spears that spill your breath
They kill their enemies by loving them to death........."
The natives in my home land are little more than sycophantic
weaklings. They are contemptible. I despise being part of this place. I
despise
being human. I went away to another land to try and find peace; I
failed. I loathe having feelings, dreams, hope and wishes, they have
all failed and will continue to do so. No surgery exists whereby my
emotions could be permanently removed, without having a detrimental
effect on
my intellect. Therefore, there is no solution. My enemies have killed
me
by hating me; my friends have killed me by loving me. To death.
"When I nearly had the connection sussed
It slips right off my tongue
And timing is off, things get jumbled up
In a fever when you are young
But I know who's in there behind those eyes
So say goodbye...."
I have dreams and hopes that will never be realized. I am a fool to
deceive myself for so long, that what was possible, would take perhaps
a little time, and then - eventually - happen. I thought I saw
something
of someone's feelings; I was was wrong. Totally, unforgivably wrong.
What I saw was a ghost, or perhaps, a reflection in the water, or,
perhaps more accurately, a reflection in the tears.
"People 'round here say you're a witch
They're intrigued in seeing you roast.
They really intend to burn you my friend,
I think that's the bit they like most.
Wake up baby, the mob are on their way!
Howling, growling, they want your blood,
They're out to get it today.
You had to go and cure the mayor's itch,
Then you took care of his clerk,
You fixed up John Green and the old bishop's spleen,
Put everyone out of work.
Wake up baby, oh baby open your eyes
Look around you, this may be your last sunrise...."
Yes; I have a job. I am very good at it; if not the best in my
profession. I make a lot of money, I have never been hungry, or
destitute - I live a life many would consider luxury. It is not
enough. It will never be enough. I hate it and what I stand for, and
what I
have become because of it. I hate the petty jealousy of peers and
colleagues, I hate the empty platitudes, the meaningless 'friendships'
that
fester. If I do my job, I do it too well, and there is always someone
who
wants to white-ant me though their petty jealousy. I don't suffer fools
gladly, I am impatient, greedy, and spiteful. I am not a good person.
It will be better when I am gone and the vultures can swoop upon the
offal that I leave lying on the highway.
"I wasn't expecting this
Now everything is destroyed
Underneath us are the nothings
Underneath them is a void
Beyond that void is a place
Where figments from bad dreams are banished
Childhood nightmares all come seeking
And adult logic nearly vanished.......
I had high expectations of certain events, despite the fact that I
deny them. And, I did not expect my dreams and hopes to come crashing
down
and crushing me, again. After all, it is not the first time, but, I am
determined it shall be the last. I am filled with depair that evil,
contemptable people I see and know can acomplish what I continue to
fail. And the mark I leave on the are merely objects. Not feelings. In
other words, nothing that really matters.
I am tired of being plauged by nightmares of the past horrors in my
life. I am tired of waking up wet from the sweat, my bedsheets and
sleepwear dank, stinking of perspiration, and I am disillusioned with
the dream-illusions of positive possiblities which are impossible. I
want to find the void, the place where I shall sleep eternal. I can
then rest.
Chaos
Inside-down, upside-out
Disorganized, dysfunctional : I don't care about labels. None of them
have any meaning to me. There is no order, no scheme of things. There
is no 'plan of God', becaause there is no God. There is no Satan
either.
There is nothing to believe in; I have no faith in anything except
myself. There is only random events outside my control. Chaos.
"None of this is what I wanted
I truly asked for what I got
Bang the gavel, it's lawlessness
I can't unravel the knot........ "
My own fault; I fell for someone I had no right whatsoever to even
consider. My friend is someone I want more than a friend. My friend
saved me. My friend cannot know about this; my friend will remain my
friend and nothing more; that is unsatisfactory. My friend has needs,
and so do I. I can not nor will not place my friend's needs above my
own. I need my friend as something more than a friend. My friend needs
someone close, to share thoughts and feelings and trust with. I cannot
do that without wanting more, I cannot live the lie, I cannot pretend
that I do not feel someting more than friendship - and I promised my
friend I would be friends for life, no matter what. In ending my life
I shall honour that promise. The knot tightens; I cannot undo it. I
need
my friend to be more, I dream of it, and it will never happen.
Half this wretched town is starving
While the other half are bloated
Everybody hates the bastards in power
But their pill is sugar coated.
I see beggars, I see the poor. I feel comtempt for them, and myself.
Them, because they think that I have nothing better to do than work 10
hours a day so I can give them something for nothing. And my own
self-contempt is for my heartless selfishness and narrow-mindedness of
the previous statement.
"I didn't need any of this
I feel anxiety in my neck
The consequences now apparent
Feeding back unchecked.
Incessant blue in spiral coils
Fingers underneath the skin
Adrenaline is not my mistress
But she always knows just where I've been....."
I did not need saving. At this point some time ago, I was ready to up
and leave. But, through a series of events, this did not occur.
Specifically, I did not want to hurt someone who is close to me. This
I heard when someone else mentioned to me how upset this person was. I
do not wish to hurt this person now, but, I feel I have no choice. I
don't need to feel so fucking bad all of the time. Why should I put up
with
it? Why should I have to keep handing out; because it seems I am
always short-changed. I don't get back what I sow; no more point in
sowing.
"He asks you "Did you like my show?"
As if he really wants to know
Then doesn't wait for your reply
He just pulls you back inside
You've started feeling dizzy
It isn't you or is he
Persuade you mentally
Undress you incidentally
Down the swaying corridor
People you feel sorry for
But when he puts the gaze on you
You're amazed at what you'll let him do.
They say that he's famous from the waist down,
But the top half of his body is a corpse.
His gold won't buy him sleep,
His poverty runs so deep -
In winter he cracks, in summer he warps."
I am tired of cheap little affairs that satisfy merely my loins and
leave my heart empty. I am tired of being close to someone without
feeling close to someone. I am sick of the lie of sex that used to
make me feel better. I am tired of the pathetic little ego-trip that it
is.
And I am fed up with anyone that I feel something for runs away when I
tell them of this. I hate being lonely, no one understands me and
no-one will. I don't care. I don't have to worry about it for much
longer.
I do not hate myself. I want this all to stop. I can stop all of this
by stopping I. The world is too big to destroy and I do not have the
megatons. It is therefore easier to destroy myself.
I shall make best efforts to be gone soon. I do not plan to post
again. Do not wish me luck; I never have any. Do not wish me peace;
that I
shall find when I am gone. If you must wish me anything, wish me
"batlh biHeghjaj".
The Disillusionist.
--
'Round vicious lips the fur is stained
The Disillusionist is back again
They say that he's famous from the waist down,
But the top half of his body is a corpse.
His gold won't buy him sleep,
His poverty runs so deep -
In winter he cracks, in summer he warps.
be the
very best in his field of work, states that others are jealous of him,
says he's a "legend below the waste". Griffin also shows himself to
be a true racist by heaping scorn and hatred on the Australian
aboriginal community when he states, "The natives in my home land are
little more than sycophantic weaklings. They are contemptible..."
Nice going, Pym. You truly are a k00k and the posting below proves
that fact...
Here it is, folks! Robert Griffin of NSW Australia, in one of his
kookiest moments on Usenet! Arrogance, greed, racism - yep! This
posting has got it all!
==============================================================
Message-ID: <***@end.of.tether>
From: The Disillusionist <***@end.of.tether>
Organization: .
X-Mailer: Mozilla 4.73 [en] (Windows NT 5.0; I)
X-Accept-Language: en
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Subject: Manifesto : Enough is enough.
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18:22:51 EST)
NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 25 May 2001 18:22:51 EST
Stop reading now if you don't like rants.
I am sick and tired of my life and I wish to end it.
I am not mentally ill; I have full control of my faculties; I have not
rushed into this decision lightly or hastily. This is why my e-mail
address is fake. I don't want life affirming crap posted to me. I
don't want to be told "it's going to get better".
I don't want to get involved. I want to stay distant, like the people
that I care about and love want to stay distant from me. I have a
right to remain anonymous if I so choose - to protect those who could
be
conceivably be harassed or slandered by my actions or inactions, and
to prevent intervention by family or others of my plans to end my
miserable existence. So, for those who would disturb me :
"Why do you always wrongly assume
That you're so well aware of what's happening there,
Right here in this room?
You're just an antenna, you're just a wire.
There's a thousand tongues wagging in your ears tonight,
And you turn around and you call me a liar.
Lightly babe, oh the fine lights cannot find you.
She stay out my way, it's the pulse I am aligned to.
And everything you say, you'll need that breath one day.
Well, you're just an antenna, you're just a code.
You translate like a book, the fuses all cook
You eat humble pie and it tastes of the road......."
Nothing will change in my world. As change is an necessary part of
life, something that I want and desire, the impossibility of this is at
odds
to my desires and wishes. *I* have control over my biological
continuance, it is perhaps the only aspect of my 'life' that I do have
control over.
ASH should be a place where I can express my thoughts and desires. It
was at one time; so it shall be now. Therefore, I shall. And I shall
ignore any of the troll-like life affirming crap which may follow. I
don't need anyone to examine why I should do this or do that; I don't
have to give anyone any reason whatsoever. I am not accountable to
you, nor do I have to justify myself to you. *I* will choose; and *I*
give
myself the right to die with dignaty, if I so choose.
Having said all that as a disclaimer, I shall now vent my thoughts,
with the aid of the words from an album of which I particularly enjoy,
supplemented with my own words.
"Where can a soldier fix himself a drink
Forget the noise, forget the stink
And the opium is running pretty low
'Cause when the pain comes back, I don't want to know...."
I need something to take away the pain. Despite much searching, I am
unable to find it. Drugs do not work - neither recreational nor
prescription. I met someone in the most unlikely of places, who might
have changed my mind about many things, about everything. The only
relief is getting drunk out of my mind, which I shall do in a short
time. It is a temporary answer, not a long-term solution. If I am
drunk enough, I will perhaps have the strength and the will to do more
than
merely prattle about ending my pain permanently, and actually do
something practical about it.
"Across yonder ocean the natives are fierce
Their ears are filled their teeth are pierced
But it's not their spears that spill your breath
They kill their enemies by loving them to death........."
The natives in my home land are little more than sycophantic
weaklings. They are contemptible. I despise being part of this place. I
despise
being human. I went away to another land to try and find peace; I
failed. I loathe having feelings, dreams, hope and wishes, they have
all failed and will continue to do so. No surgery exists whereby my
emotions could be permanently removed, without having a detrimental
effect on
my intellect. Therefore, there is no solution. My enemies have killed
me
by hating me; my friends have killed me by loving me. To death.
"When I nearly had the connection sussed
It slips right off my tongue
And timing is off, things get jumbled up
In a fever when you are young
But I know who's in there behind those eyes
So say goodbye...."
I have dreams and hopes that will never be realized. I am a fool to
deceive myself for so long, that what was possible, would take perhaps
a little time, and then - eventually - happen. I thought I saw
something
of someone's feelings; I was was wrong. Totally, unforgivably wrong.
What I saw was a ghost, or perhaps, a reflection in the water, or,
perhaps more accurately, a reflection in the tears.
"People 'round here say you're a witch
They're intrigued in seeing you roast.
They really intend to burn you my friend,
I think that's the bit they like most.
Wake up baby, the mob are on their way!
Howling, growling, they want your blood,
They're out to get it today.
You had to go and cure the mayor's itch,
Then you took care of his clerk,
You fixed up John Green and the old bishop's spleen,
Put everyone out of work.
Wake up baby, oh baby open your eyes
Look around you, this may be your last sunrise...."
Yes; I have a job. I am very good at it; if not the best in my
profession. I make a lot of money, I have never been hungry, or
destitute - I live a life many would consider luxury. It is not
enough. It will never be enough. I hate it and what I stand for, and
what I
have become because of it. I hate the petty jealousy of peers and
colleagues, I hate the empty platitudes, the meaningless 'friendships'
that
fester. If I do my job, I do it too well, and there is always someone
who
wants to white-ant me though their petty jealousy. I don't suffer fools
gladly, I am impatient, greedy, and spiteful. I am not a good person.
It will be better when I am gone and the vultures can swoop upon the
offal that I leave lying on the highway.
"I wasn't expecting this
Now everything is destroyed
Underneath us are the nothings
Underneath them is a void
Beyond that void is a place
Where figments from bad dreams are banished
Childhood nightmares all come seeking
And adult logic nearly vanished.......
I had high expectations of certain events, despite the fact that I
deny them. And, I did not expect my dreams and hopes to come crashing
down
and crushing me, again. After all, it is not the first time, but, I am
determined it shall be the last. I am filled with depair that evil,
contemptable people I see and know can acomplish what I continue to
fail. And the mark I leave on the are merely objects. Not feelings. In
other words, nothing that really matters.
I am tired of being plauged by nightmares of the past horrors in my
life. I am tired of waking up wet from the sweat, my bedsheets and
sleepwear dank, stinking of perspiration, and I am disillusioned with
the dream-illusions of positive possiblities which are impossible. I
want to find the void, the place where I shall sleep eternal. I can
then rest.
Chaos
Inside-down, upside-out
Disorganized, dysfunctional : I don't care about labels. None of them
have any meaning to me. There is no order, no scheme of things. There
is no 'plan of God', becaause there is no God. There is no Satan
either.
There is nothing to believe in; I have no faith in anything except
myself. There is only random events outside my control. Chaos.
"None of this is what I wanted
I truly asked for what I got
Bang the gavel, it's lawlessness
I can't unravel the knot........ "
My own fault; I fell for someone I had no right whatsoever to even
consider. My friend is someone I want more than a friend. My friend
saved me. My friend cannot know about this; my friend will remain my
friend and nothing more; that is unsatisfactory. My friend has needs,
and so do I. I can not nor will not place my friend's needs above my
own. I need my friend as something more than a friend. My friend needs
someone close, to share thoughts and feelings and trust with. I cannot
do that without wanting more, I cannot live the lie, I cannot pretend
that I do not feel someting more than friendship - and I promised my
friend I would be friends for life, no matter what. In ending my life
I shall honour that promise. The knot tightens; I cannot undo it. I
need
my friend to be more, I dream of it, and it will never happen.
Half this wretched town is starving
While the other half are bloated
Everybody hates the bastards in power
But their pill is sugar coated.
I see beggars, I see the poor. I feel comtempt for them, and myself.
Them, because they think that I have nothing better to do than work 10
hours a day so I can give them something for nothing. And my own
self-contempt is for my heartless selfishness and narrow-mindedness of
the previous statement.
"I didn't need any of this
I feel anxiety in my neck
The consequences now apparent
Feeding back unchecked.
Incessant blue in spiral coils
Fingers underneath the skin
Adrenaline is not my mistress
But she always knows just where I've been....."
I did not need saving. At this point some time ago, I was ready to up
and leave. But, through a series of events, this did not occur.
Specifically, I did not want to hurt someone who is close to me. This
I heard when someone else mentioned to me how upset this person was. I
do not wish to hurt this person now, but, I feel I have no choice. I
don't need to feel so fucking bad all of the time. Why should I put up
with
it? Why should I have to keep handing out; because it seems I am
always short-changed. I don't get back what I sow; no more point in
sowing.
"He asks you "Did you like my show?"
As if he really wants to know
Then doesn't wait for your reply
He just pulls you back inside
You've started feeling dizzy
It isn't you or is he
Persuade you mentally
Undress you incidentally
Down the swaying corridor
People you feel sorry for
But when he puts the gaze on you
You're amazed at what you'll let him do.
They say that he's famous from the waist down,
But the top half of his body is a corpse.
His gold won't buy him sleep,
His poverty runs so deep -
In winter he cracks, in summer he warps."
I am tired of cheap little affairs that satisfy merely my loins and
leave my heart empty. I am tired of being close to someone without
feeling close to someone. I am sick of the lie of sex that used to
make me feel better. I am tired of the pathetic little ego-trip that it
is.
And I am fed up with anyone that I feel something for runs away when I
tell them of this. I hate being lonely, no one understands me and
no-one will. I don't care. I don't have to worry about it for much
longer.
I do not hate myself. I want this all to stop. I can stop all of this
by stopping I. The world is too big to destroy and I do not have the
megatons. It is therefore easier to destroy myself.
I shall make best efforts to be gone soon. I do not plan to post
again. Do not wish me luck; I never have any. Do not wish me peace;
that I
shall find when I am gone. If you must wish me anything, wish me
"batlh biHeghjaj".
The Disillusionist.
--
'Round vicious lips the fur is stained
The Disillusionist is back again
They say that he's famous from the waist down,
But the top half of his body is a corpse.
His gold won't buy him sleep,
His poverty runs so deep -
In winter he cracks, in summer he warps.
http://vivaldi.kyed.com/bs/04_NATIONAL_SECURITY_AGENCY.htm
"BARBARA SCHWARZ v. NATIONAL SECURITY AGENCY ET AL. BARBARA SCHWARZ v. EXECUTIVE
OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT ET AL."
"March 8, 1999, Decided
"DECISION: Person who had filed 35 frivolous certiorari petitions denied leave
to proceed in forma pauperis as to latest petitions; order entered barring
person's future in forma pauperis filings of noncriminal certiorari petitions."
[...]
" Pro se petitioner Schwarz seeks leave to proceed in forma pauperis under
Rule 39 of this Court. We deny this request as frivolous pursuant to Rule 39.8.
[...]
"Schwarz has repeatedly abused this Court's certiorari process [...]
"Before that [*123] time, Schwarz had filed 29 petitions for certiorari, all
of which were both patently frivolous and had been denied without recorded
dissent. The instant petitions for certiorari thus constitute Schwarz's 34th
and 35th frivolous filings with this Court. [...]
"Schwarz's abuse of the writ of certiorari has been in noncriminal cases [...]"
http://vivaldi.kyed.com/bs/04_NATIONAL_SECURITY_AGENCY.htm
"BARBARA SCHWARZ v. NATIONAL SECURITY AGENCY ET AL. BARBARA SCHWARZ v. EXECUTIVE
OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT ET AL."
"March 8, 1999, Decided
"DECISION: Person who had filed 35 frivolous certiorari petitions denied leave
to proceed in forma pauperis as to latest petitions; order entered barring
person's future in forma pauperis filings of noncriminal certiorari petitions."
[...]
" Pro se petitioner Schwarz seeks leave to proceed in forma pauperis under
Rule 39 of this Court. We deny this request as frivolous pursuant to Rule 39.8.
[...]
"Schwarz has repeatedly abused this Court's certiorari process [...]
"Before that [*123] time, Schwarz had filed 29 petitions for certiorari, all
of which were both patently frivolous and had been denied without recorded
dissent. The instant petitions for certiorari thus constitute Schwarz's 34th
and 35th frivolous filings with this Court. [...]
"Schwarz's abuse of the writ of certiorari has been in noncriminal cases [...]"
http://vivaldi.kyed.com/bs/04_NATIONAL_SECURITY_AGENCY.htm
