textfiles/occult/ERIS/book10.txt

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Principia Entropius Book Two >>The Principia EntroHocusPocus
Part Ten of 15
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Pinball An Eris/Loopian Game
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You don't play pinball with your hands, you play it with your groin too.
The Pinball problem is not to stop the ball before its swallowed by the
mouth at the bottom, or to kick it back to mid-feild like a half-back.The
Problem is to make it stay up, where the lighted targets are more numerous
and have it bounce from one to another, wandering, confused,delirious, but
still a free agent. And you acheive this, not by jolting the ball, but by
transmitting vibrations to the case, the frame, but gently so the machine
won't catch on and say Tilt. You can only do it with the groin, or with
the play of the hips that makes the groin not so much bump, as slither,
keeping you on the side of an orgasm. And if the hips move according to
nature, its the buttocks that supply the forward thrust, but gracefully,
so that when the thrust reaches the pelvic area, it is softened, as in
homeopathy,where the more you shake a solution and the more the drug
dissolves in the water added gradually, until the drug has almost entirely
disappeared, the more medically effective and potent it is. Thus from the
groin and infinitesmal pulse is transmitted to the case, and the machine
obeys, the ball moves against nature, against inertia, against gravity,
against the laws of dynamics, and against the cleverness of its creator,
who wanted it disobediant. The ball is intoxicated with vis movendi,
remaining in play for memorable and immemorial lengths of time. nothing
between the Jeans and the Subliminated fury must interpose the connection,
besides skin, nerves, padded bone....Infact the best player, would be a
women, with a subliminated erotic fury, a sly frigidity, a disinterested
adaptablity to the partners response, a taste for arousing desire without
suffering the excess of ones own: The Amazon must drive the pinball crazy
and savor the thought that she will then abandon it. That is why this
is obviously a game devised by the Goddess.
* * * * *
"Excuse me while I go spank my monkey"
--Saint Butthead.
* * * * *
Mooist Communiquado Intercepto
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From: Flog Sonata
To: Partyman
Subject: Bishop of Pain.
Sadly, I am not in pain now that I have been made a bishop. How sad for all
of us. Halfy was expecting me to writhe as if I had maggots in my gut, and
yet I feel a ZENish inner tranquility.
Everybody in de house say "OM!"
"OM!"
Putcha hands togethuh for Master Bish-UP, Flog-guh, SO-NOT-ah!
If'n the gods be so funky,
Like my l'il pink monkey,
Den der ain't no reason-nuh,
For huntin' season-nuh.
What? Oh, sorry. I've been experimenting with chanelling. That was my
spirit guide who seems to be named Flog-guh SO-NOT-ah. He's a medieval
rapper. He sometimes possesses me and makes me rap. Quite embarassing.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO