I have an idea of what to do with the dead of space.
The monkeys that evolve before man coexist for a time to hunt. I call them Nephilim.
If these being’s were to b’rhyme thieve God then sheep in limbo would seek their heavenly plots.
Those limbo junkies just want a hole to go through dramatic experiences with close relatives within.
They are crazy, simple and clingy. Best to stay clear.
-ottout
Oh good, Ottom has found his way to the new IGS.
For a moment, I was worried he might have been lost forever.
Considering that half Mr. Ephesianos’s writings seem to be a warning against this or that sort of person, it’s maybe just as well that they’re so opaque. I’m pretty sure I should have felt insulted at least once, but as it is I have no idea where or how. And, probably, neither does anyone else-- except, just maybe, Mr. Ephesianos.
(“Being’s … b’rhyme thieve God?”)
(What?)
I only feel insulted by myself for wasting time reading.
They’re better when they’re short. Then it’s just a head-scratch instead of a headache.
I’ll actually read them (instead of skimming) when they’re like this.
Wait, people actually read Ottom’s rambles? I usually just skip them over and go straight to taunt him!
Some of them make more sense to me than others, and sometimes that worries me. Like I recently mentioned in a mail to a friend:
Ottom’s Harem’ing post sort of makes sense to me. I must be losing it.