Date: Sat, 26 Jul 2003 16:31:23 +0200 (CEST)
From: =?iso-8859-1?q?ildegir=20sun?= <ildegirsun-AT-yahoo.no>
Subject: Whiethead and the Internet reality



please repair the archives it's impossible here! it's a week that i try to make a new account and the authentification code never sends in. what's happening? did i overestimate internet? it's more and more that i am hearing stories about adult trying to pervert the innocence of young minded people, beneficary of the lawless legislation, these scroundrels arez actually the inermost abomination that a serious thinking cannot tolerate. you know me well now, and you know that i am quite humorous most of thez time. but, sometimes i can piss off also, as right now, and you wouldn't be surpised if some of my rolling over pee, out of it came a few glowing drops of liquid onto your shining shoes. well as you learn to discover, i have invented the "unevaluable" style, where the audiencee is left puzzled as to how to interpret if the complainer is actually humorous or serious. so, but now it's up to you to see what you neighbours interprets, and that is why you can you this server to ask me
 question about if i was actually a serious gallion, or actually a brad as they say. well, at the moment you see i am quite humorous, but this might turn up serious when the seriousness of the problem is taking outdimentional proportion. the world is growing, and the internet is full of little demon, who think only about sperm to flow in your ass. this is the direction of the flows. the silicon new age promised by the philosopher is actually undertaken by the male cells which bath in the spermatic ocen, whose thirst is never satisfyingly squelshed. never in my life had we not internet did we not see such a taking over the sexual liquid over the energy provided dimmily by the silicon ingredient. the nymphoniac might of course find the full satisfaction to her existence on earth in this deluvium of sperm liquid, but the innocent, the angel, the intelligent, what is left to her: only to float, her legs full of this disgusting cream. and i say leg, while it is actually not only her lower
 member, but up till her hands and fingers, the keyboard getting virtual, the matter, the little particules of the keyboards and other apparatus of this techichal infrastructure, ie. the ordinadore, which is getting outmaterialised to the profit of the great spermatic flow. so actually that, while i used to beleive as i was, that i was a writer, i am actually out of my will becoming outside the line of virtue. i have lost all pudor, and am surrounded by what i confuse between being the real or the virtual but in any case a giant gush of sperm taking my body away into some ARTIFIAL paradise, while the reality and the hardness of life is totally escaping my understanding. This only because of the unlegislation shadowilly organised by some with a stronger sexual fabrica? I am not sure this makes any sense. They read this but it's just as if they were fish in water. The sperm has won, and we have all becomen fishes. Maybe actually we have all been AFFECTED, and thus as stone keeping
 their movement once thrown, we have become OVUMS in full mastery of a jouissance of this spermatic Ocean. At least the think, so it seems, is that we actually can have the intellectual satisfaction (gratitude) of equating consciousness with the occasion (Whitehead). Now that i have been given the consciouss, may the gods give me an opportunity to choose my partner. But i see them come and go, as I am deciding and moving, and no one still has entered my temple. It is quite strange to realise that consciousness can actually berediculize the importance of the Sperm Ocean by just using language in either one way of read or do. Now i unplugged and test this new one out of the net. Attnezione i say. I am serious, there is a problem. There's not enough legislation. Religion as died now we need legislation. It's enough, i need to write.







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