A Message from Susie the Floozie

You'll have to excuse any technofuckups here--I'm quite the nudie
at this, or whatever. I don't know the words--but somehow I have to find
them now for what will no doubt be the only posting ever from me, because
this is the one thing from me which I feel is worthy of flogging us all. I
know what I witnessed at Brushwood, and it WAS truly apocalyptic.

I went not knowing what to expect, but with the background
sensation that we would all be ripped off. As I put it, "One way or
another, we're all gonna finally get FUCKED REAL GOOD by "Bob"! Whoo-HOO!!"
But I never expected to be feeling such righteous afterglow from the
spiritual mugging we all suffered.

SURE, Stang and Jesus are brazen charlatans who took advantage of
our willing gullibility, and SURE, the chance of actual redemption from the
skies was about zilch point shit. Still, I tried to keep that wool pulled
and to be a starry-eyed little seeker for the Cause, although deep inside
there was the feeling that we were about to get the Big Burn of All Time.
But something mystical happened out there in that SubGenius Sweat Lodge,
and I know I'm not the only one who felt it.

The night of X-Day Eve, I took my boombox full of apocalyptic
easy-listening music out into the middle of the Bigass Brushwood Field and
stood out there, naked and alone in the dewy grass beneath a sky screaming
with stars, and I danced an EndTimes Dance in the dark--and as I swirled,
everywhere I looked was alive with Our People. The night air pulsed with
SubGenius life. All around me was a ring of their glowing campfires, and
the sounds of their last-night-on-Earth revelry carried through the cold
night air and blended with the atmospheric schmaltz. And suddenly, I was
moved to tears of absolute joy by it all. This was no longer a raggedy-ass
convocation of bitter misfits and fucked-up loners--suddenly, we were a
great SubGenius Nation. At that point of satori alone there in that field,
I sobbed like a fucking baby over it--and in that crystalline, perfect
moment, I knew what it was really all about.

Waiting for the saucers to arrive was a lot of kicks, sure. But
that wasn't the be-all and end-all of the game. Yeah, we got burned--but at
the same time, something stronger in us all got forged in those same fires.
We're in this Church from the start because of our mutually shared pain and
discontent, and at the risk of sounding just too fucking
sweetness-and-light, WE HAVE EACH OTHER. That's where our power and our
true menace to THEM has always lain--but by the same token, we can draw the
solace and strength we need for our basic survival from the fact that we
ARE a solid, cohesive SubGenius family. Every one of us has a part around
"Bob"'s big dinner table, passing that steaming tureen of Slack to the Yeti
next to you and happily digging into the soul-satisfying feast of Dobbs
with our brethren. Sure, we're a dysfunctional family, but we're made of
superior material to start with--and our version of the home game has much
more amusing and fascinating characters, like our oily Daddy Stang and our
badass Uncle K'Taden and our sweet Little Brother Onan and our silken
Sister Lilith and our crusty ol' Grampa GGGordon. (Ha!) And you can just
think of me as your slutty sister Susie who laughs it off when you walk in
on me when I'm douching in the tub...

This past week, I got more bang for my membership buck than I ever
thought possible. This Church has given me (and I hope many others)
something immeasurable, and I am absolutely SHINING from it all. With
lovely SubGenius friends like these, I can glibly chortle, "FUCK the Sex
Goddesses!" and laugh off the sting of brutal disappointment. Maybe we
didn't get off this planet, but for some weird-ass goddamn reason, I don't
exactly mind living on shitball Earth as much as I did a week ago. And that
in itself is a miracle of the first fucking water, Baby.

Sure, this cult is founded on a big fucking joke--but our
dedication to our own is totally fucking serious. Any lameass shitstain who
doubts we're a family can just look at the outpouring of support for poor
stricken Pee Kitty. (Hey, why don't we throw him his own surrogate Rupture
next year, since he missed the Big One? We've got a year to figure out
HOW...) Maybe we didn't get off this planet, but we can use our new
solidarity to create a SubGenius paradise for the Yetinsyn here on Earth.

And by the way, yes, that WAS a huge motherfucking "X" in the
clouds in the pink light of early dawn on X-Day morning, and I hopefully
got photographic proof of it. It was truly a beautiful thing to see the
tangible sign of Dobbs' covenant with his people afire in the skies over
our Great SubGenius Nation.

"O Brave New World,
that has such creatures in it..."

Boy, do I ever need a frickin' cigarette.

Rev. Susie the Floozie
[Kiss mark here]
The New Post-Apocalyptic Reformed Church of Dobbs, Unrepentant


From: (Monsterwax)



From: "?!" <schabe@mr|>

Funny thing -- I was in the midst of composing a rant on the same
subject whilst attending X-Day. Something along the lines of that scary
Promise Keepers line about "No group of men of this size has ever assembled
for purposes other than war." Well, no group of Yetis of this size has ever
assembled for any purposes *whatsoever*. We're just usually not that
organized. It took "Bob"'s plan, and a handful of Big Lies to bring us
together. And while I'm as disappointed as anyone that the escape vessels
didn't show up (I really *did* max out all my credit cards), it seems I'm
not the only one who suspects that Something began to awaken out there at

I don't know what all of this means, or where it's going, or whether
it's even a good idea. Probably not. I do know one thing -- I'm through
with *waiting* for the Pleasure Saucers. First chance I get, I'm buying me
a welding torch and a copy of the Anti-Gravity handbook and *building my

So, like the man says -- this isn't the end. It's not even the
beginning of the end. But it just possibly might be the end of [FILL IN THE

schabe "social insect"


From: Steve Slack <>

About two Months before X-Day, I got "The Joke".

Think about this: Is SubGenius any more of a scam than Christianity,
just because less people believe in it?

There had to be SOMETHING to tie together all these far-flung
aestethics in art, music, lifestyle; the deeper meanings behind the
mundane workaday world that keeps us PURSUING A VISION despite
the pressure to be ephemeral and trendy.

Like the mathematician at his scribble-crowded chalkboard, we
are perfecting a FORMULA which we can apply to RECREATE OUR
OWN REALITY. And unlike the number-crunching Pinkies striving
to create a ONE EQUATION FITS ALL reality, we know that what
we derive from our calculations can only be applied to OURSLEVES

Sure, the shallow and perversely-indoctrinated will continue to
attack us. But the empirical evidence PROVES to me that we have
already won and continue to win despite their feeble attacks.
TIME will prove us right.

SO WHAT if we all had you believing in a saucer rapture? You
believed in something fantastic and greater than yourself!
Just imagine if we could get folks to believe in something
less far-flung but EVERY BIT AS FANTASTIC?!?!?!?!??!??!?!?!?!

If the Subgenius Foundation had never been founded, IT WOULD
STILL HAVE EXISTED under some other name because THEY CANNOT

Personally I want MY reality to become one where I marry
Susie's clone!


From: (Dr. Derek Robb, Kaiju Hakase)

?! <schabe@mr|> exploded:

|didn't show up (I really *did* max out all my credit cards), it seems I'm
|not the only one who suspects that Something began to awaken out there at

HELL. I'm all over THAT. I know sure as hell SOMETHING awoke SOMEWHERE. My
bigfoot blood has been pumping, and i'm not the only one. Rev. Mszzzi (my
cohort in villainy and nakedness), usually rather quiet in public, has
taken to gol-danged RANTS at the slightest provocation. Some folks at work
asked her about her vacation, and she let fly with a relentless river of
enlightened barkings that converted two of her coworkers into sending in
THEIR $30... and i don't know if it qualifies as ranting or not, but my
car (which was recently ordained itself) has had the WEIRDEST stuff coming
out of its radio...

Myself, well. Just this morning, as i was getting out of work, i found a
cryptic note on my windshield, from someone claiming to know "where the
saucers REALLY go".. and a phone number... So what the hell. Mszzie and I
may spend this weekend visiting some lone KOOK. What the heck.

Nothing remarkable, i'll admit. But there's been an unusually high number
of weird occurances in this, the first 24 our period the two of us have
actually spent interacting with the outside world since getting back from

You can't fight City Hall, but you can for goddamn sure blow it up.
reply-email to THIS: a i e e e e @ t e z c a t . c o m

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