Join me and alGARhythm at the only X-Day Salebration in Florida, as we take our new project Engine Heart (Audio/Visual Expressionerring) to the masses for our first live performance. We will be performing physic surgery on “Arise! The Sub-Genius DVD” for a special 45 minute Barrage of Apocryphal Imagery and Post-Rave Electronics. Intrigued? Wait until you read Mr. Antonym’s invite below.
See you then, and Praise “Bob”!
- dr.xnlb
: card-carrying subgenius
From Mr. Antonym:
Good hello, friends!
All of you that know me well, and most of you that know me at all, know that I am of the opinion that all human BS (belief systems) are equally worthy of scorn. However, as George Orwell so eloquently pointed out, (without even being asked, mind you) some are more equal than others. My own personal taste in BS runs towards the absurd, and, as I have no doubt pointed out to you, loudly, while drinking alcohol, one of my favoritest flavor of BS comes neatly wrapped in a package called “Bob”.
Oh, come on now, you know who I’m talking about. “Bob”.
He’s the cartoon character that communicates with alien gods, wants you to quit your job, promises endless sex and makes a million bucks every time he screws up. He’s also the best salesman in the universe.
You also have probably been subjected, at one time or another to listening to me prattle on about X-day. July 5th, 1998. This is the day that Subgeniuses (followers of J.R. “Bob” Dobbs) believe that the world will end. And not peacefully either. No “Bob” tells us that the end of the world will come with flaming laser beam eyes, brought down upon us by hostile invaders from across the Universe; forces sent to destroy our world by the angry God JHVH-1. “Bob” offers salvation, however. He’s “closed” the ultimate “sale”, and bought his followers passage off this doomed rock on the pleasure saucers of the Sex Goddesses from Planet X. And what did “Bob” offer in return? The souls of all those pink, button-down, Ken-and-Barbie, planned-community-living, easy-listening NORMALS that have held you back your whole life and then expected you to thank them for it.
You know, the Normals.
Not a bad deal, is it? We superior mutants get eternal lives of pleasure among advanced super-beings, and those wretched, worthless food tubes that drive Hummers, drink Miller Light, and subscribe to Better Homes and Gardens get to fry in hell on earth forever.
So, right about now, you’re probably saying to yourself, “You know, the stuff about the angry alien gods is obviously true. But I thought you said the glorious Rupture was going to be on July 5, 1998, and it’s 2007. That’s like, ten years ago. What gives? Why hasn’t the world ended?”
Well, my friends, let me ask you a question: HOW DO YOU KNOW IT HASN’T?
If you don’t have enough time to properly contemplate the magnitude of that existential interrogation, let me offer another, more superficial justification that might satisfy you.
Back in the early 1580s, there was a dude by the name of Pope Gregory XIII, and he decreed a new calendar, to replace the commonly used Julian calendar, so named for Julius Ceasar, who introduced HIS calendar the world back in the 1st century BC. Did you know that the year 46 BC was actually 445 days long ? It’s true! Even back before then, folks were using lunar calendars and their women’s menstrual periods to mark off months. The ancient Africans had a calendar synchronized to the orbit of Venus. The point of all of which is, ALL CALENDARS ARE WRONG.
X-day was marked in time long before there were human calendars; indeed, even longer than this world has existed. X-day is marked in the very fabric of space-time, like a strange attractor into which all of history is inevitably falling. But no human can say for sure EXACTLY what day is July 5th, 1998, any more than they could point to the center of the universe.
It’s true. Think about it.
X-day could be five seconds from now. It could be next Monday after lunch. The world could end tomorrow, and you may die.
Because nobody knows exactly when JHVH-1 will come calling, gibbering and drooling over thoughts of the succulent meal of flesh promised him, don’t you think that it’s best to be on the safe side? Don’t you think it’s time to get right with “Bob”?
I know I do. And so every year since 1998 (well, since the 1998 we’ve all heard of), I’ve celebrated X-day, sometimes with a big party, sometimes with a quiet evening alone in my subterranean laboratory, invoking beings that must not be named to hasten the end of it all.
This year, I’m having a little get-together, open to any enlightened mutants, OverMen and ÃœberWomen that care to join us. Activities may include:
- Head Launchings
- Psychic Surgery
- Doktor Music
- Alien Communication
- Trance-inducing video mind control
- Spiritual and/or Demonic possession
- Prairie Squid races
- Pin-the-asshole-to-the-world-class-golfer
- Spontaneous ranting
- Sexhurt seminars
- Accubeating
- THE END OF THE WORLD (possibly)
Sound too good to be true? Then it probably is.
By now, you’re probably wondering what venue could house such an ecclectic collection of oddities and weirdos. If you guessed Redlight Redlight in Winter Park, you’d be a boxxi winner.
Redlight Redlight is, by far, the friendliest bar in town. Tucked away upstairs from a bakery in Winter Park, Redlight is the only place in Orlando that can genuinely be called a beer bar. Oh, sure, they have your Pabst Blue Ribbon, if you’re one of those folks that are planning on giving all their worldly possesions to “Bob” ahead of the apocolypse. For those of you with somewhat more sophisticated pallates (and fatter wallets), Redlight will be happy to serve you the Best Beer You’ve Ever Tasted®. Like, for instance, an Abbaye de Saint Bon Chien, a 750mL, 15% ABV monster of a beer, and one of the rarest bottles in the US. And what good will your money be AFTER the world ends anyway?
We’re going to start the festivities early, about 7:00. Seriously. I know it’s early, but really, what are you going to do, microwave a hot pocket and watch a rerun of Dr. Phil? (Shhh…I’ll tell you how it ends - Dr. Phil rattles off a bunch of bullshit, and everyone goes home as unhappy as when they arrived.) We have to start a bit on the early side because the Redlight Redlight closes at 11 p.m., due to ridiculous local ordinances. On the bright side, you’ll be home before your bedtime. If, that is, you still have a bed to go home to.
So, to sum up:
X-day Celebration, Hosted by Mr. Antonym
July 5th, 1998 2007
7 p.m. - 11 p.m.
at The Redlight Redlight
535 W. New England Ave. Winter Park, FL 32789 [ map ]
407-539-1711
No cover
21+ welcome
BYOW (bring your own wierd, and show it off, big shot.)
Hope you can make it! You can’t spell “The Rupture” without Yous!
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