Writhing in Slack After 8X-Day

It's the SubGenius New Year. Everything is renewed, refreshed, rebuilt, reconstructed.

Every X-Day Drill, when the world doesn't end, a new version of Nu-Monet comes out -- as does a new version of every SubGenius, although most of them aren't labeled as such, like Nu-Monet is.

Every X-Day, because we move half of our Throne Office to the stage at Brushwood, we CLEAN the Throne Office for the first time since the world last failed to end. I'm strangely HEALTHIER after an X-Day Drill, having involuntarily pumped up from days of swaggarting, packing, moving, unpacking, socializing, walking all over the campground, ranting, spazzing, etc. My very soul-gland is exercised and trod upon until it's leathery and buff, and my memory is cleansed by the finest 'Frop, scoured of impure remembrances and pretty much everything else. It's like getting one's overgrown brain-yard mowed.

I just finished putting my freshly dust-covered electronics back together, on freshly dusted tables and desks, after dusting it all, and why, it's almost like a brand new pristine Escape Office, especially with the recent donation of a near-MWOWM-level Earth computer by the Gription Clench.

I feel GREAT! This was certainly the most Slackful Drill ever for me personally. I never freaked out! I barked at Dr. Drummond once when he tried to fix the unbroken parts of my temporarily broken sound system, but I do that almost habitually if I see him messing with my equipment, ever since THAT ONE TIME, which I will NEVER let him forget.

7X-Day, last year, was NOT pleasant for me. That year, I had resolved to get the kind of Slack everybody is always telling me I should get, and I was CONSTANTLY DISAPPOINTED, because, DURING X-DAY, THAT IS NOT SLACK FOR ME. At X-Days, Slack for me IS running around trying to meet every single person at once while filming anything even remotely interesting and hunting down blown fuses with Pater Nostril and listening faux-patiently to insane or young people telling me insane or young things while I'm wondering just where I put that adapter that I'm going to need in a few minutes after I find an extension cord for this video projector. When I just GIVE IN to the Emergentile Force, and let IT run ME, then I not only get everything done (or close enough for the girls we go out with) but I also get a massive dose of Slack Awareness.

So, I managed to exploit my Emergentile Slack to the MAX, and then every night when it was too late to have giant noise, and the stage show was over, Princess Wei and I did our fair share of hedonistic partying. Heck, we even DRANK! Yes, on Sunday night we drank a beer each and a hit of rum or something! On Monday night we drank a cup of wine and some kind of weird liqueur! By Tuesday night, we were slamming down Lord Ferg's Fighting Cock whiskey right out of the jug and chasing it with Cokes! Hell, we figured, the world's ending, or something; it's 8X-Day anyway, so WHY NOT LIVE DANGEROUSLY!

I probably drank almost as much at 8X-Day as a human drinks in a... a DAY!

Every night at about 3 in the morning, we went to the Secret Elite Second Hot Tub and there we found yet more ways to get in touch with and amplify our INBORN SLACK.

We never went to bed on X-Day-eve; we kept ourselves awake, USING PURE SLACK! We were the first ones at the pavilion, around 6:30 a.m., and we were shaved, shined, shampooed and ready to leave our Earthly shells looking their best when we vacated them. There was a record crowd of Those Who Don't Wuss Out at the spirited 7-A.M. countdown, with none of the corny "Stang, into the pond" crap, because I threatened to kick the ass of anybody who pulled that trite bullshit.

Now that I think about it, I'm not actually real sure what DID happen at 7 a.m. But I know I had working batteries in the video camera this time, so somewhere there must be a record of what "Bob" did to us. If anything. (BUT WHY CAN I NEVER REMEMBER THAT PART?!?!?)

Evidently NASA's attempt to start an intergalactic war between the Xists and Yacatisma by firing bombs at a Yist scout ship on July 4th WORKED, because neither of the great space races appear to be paying any more attention to "Earth" than normal.

We had so unexpectedly much Slack at the 8X-Day Drill that we stayed at Brushwood an extra night. We returned Dr. Howll to California yesterday via the Cleveland airport, and the Frop-Decadences back to Ft. Worth this afternoon.

There are two CASH BOXES behind me. One came from Rev. Nickie Deathchick's Swag Shop and one came from Rev. Magdalen's Registration Desk. I have not opened them.

I must assemble an Hour of Slack BUT FAST! HOOO-hah! We have the usual godzumptillion digital photos, soundboard recordings of the bands and jams and the hours of "radio" that Dr. Howl and Philo and I did, and something like 9 hours of DV video plus another 5 or 6 hours that Rocknar shot and handed to me.

I will strive to get the Bobbie Award list and the photos posted within a reasonable time. I intend to attempt to edit the 8X-Day footage SOON this time. If nothing else I can probably get a 2-minute VCD mpeg of the teabagging online soon. I LOVE doing this shit, but I have run out of hard drive space until I either get this new supercomputer up and running, or edit the Winterstar DVD and get the master off my drives, and also there were quite a few swag orders that stacked up since June 26, yet the leftover swag is all strewn across the reception room three stories below, so it might be bzzz bzzz bzzz PRABOB PRABOB PRABOB bzzz bzzzz click

To Be Continued