To Whom It May Concern ...
(A DISCLAIMER: Gentlemen, the opinions of members of the staff at TANATA do not necessarily represent the opinions held by other writers and websters and people who pay the bills, fucking food included. … in dis place riight heyah. Yee-haw! Am I gettin’ through to anybody? Can I get an Amen? I’ll feed you, but you have to let me use your toilet every once in a while. Okay? Deal? Kidding.
By the way, for those who have inquired as to Simon O. Seuss’ real name … Half of it is his real name, no … that would be two thirds. If you can guess which is the thing in that thar name dat et s’posed to be thar [translation: Simon’s middle name … is not O. So here’s the deal: if you will write in via — and weren’t not a lyin’ about this nuther — tanataeditor AT dot COM and guess what his real middle name is … we’ll send you a T-Shirt with our logo on it. The person who nails it may get a chance to win — wait for it — a date with Elvis. Shit, how about that?! Fucking Elvis. Well, I don’t mean you can fuck Elvis, or that you would want to. You know I don’t what part of speech fucking is in that sentence. A gerand transitive dangling at the beginning participal, or something. And either drinks and Twinkies, with good old El, and peanut butter and banana sandwiches, sprinkled with powdered sugar … and deep fried with Elvis. I’ll be real honest with you … he ain’t a whole damn lot to look at anymore, if you know what I mean. I mean, hell, what with the gravity alone will pull your chin down to your navel if you’re a fat man. We call him Chin Boy. He hates that. But seriously folks … ay, tough crowd,
I believe Simon is a pretty amazing person, and I think it was a good poem on the Spore game. I think he might be right; we have long believed that the media, that public opinion from the get-go has been an important aspect of our enemies communicating to us … are you ready for this? … telepathically. And why not? Radio and television are quite miraculous, if you think about it , broadcast, that is, I was a radioman along with other things in my role as an intelligence specialist in Ethiopia for the U.S. Navy when Haile Selassie was deposed, and I tested the pavement in a cell with my forehead. It felt as if my whole life was slammed back into my face, my brain, and I saw red, and I was awake, and then I saw aspects of hell again, but I was not frightened. I mocked them. Why? Self-preservation. I ain’t going down without mother fucking fight. I’ll lock and load and fight for my fellow man at the drop of a hat. But a laser gun would be really cool. But you’d have to train me first. And with all the humans pulling together to fight this weird shit, I mean the whole chain of command … resist him, he flees. Get tough. Grow some balls. You want a horse, with a human head raping your wife’s or your daughter so that they can bear an animal baby. By the way, that was an image I did not see. Poetic license. But I did see halfsies. And, my fellow human, it was not pretty.
Simon hasn’t seen what I have seen … but he has done a lot of reading … and ancient history is full of the descriptions of grendels for lack of a better word, living gargoyles (which surely would make the Orcs look like a Girl Scout parade.), and I think he believes me (if he doesn’t he’s gonna get bitch slapped) … history is full of descriptions which haven’t been burned, in Alexandria, if I read correctly some of what I have read. That’s speculation, but after a while the evidence just sort of accumulates. What I saw was bad enough, though much of it was blocked out until therapy began for me until 1948, and I don’t know if I can fully trust my recollection, but the whole ordeal happened, and the feelings of desperation are indescribable. I just hung on like I was on a ride at the amusement park, sitting up in my bed, in my bedroom in Virginia. If my study and experiences are accurate what we will be encountering as human beings and countrymen, and fellow residents of this planet, when the whole show comes out for a bow … is not worth having third-world countries to develop. Or whatever. Enjoy life. And accept Jesus, whose blood contained the DNA of all races. Am I right or am I wrong Holy Grailers? Nobody like him, anywhere, ever at any time, no way Jose. My opinion of course. And guess what else … that bitch is scared of me. You oughta see what I see over my house at the top of a mountain some nights. Very, very sheer, however, so it plays with your head. Anyway,
We must unite, but not for the purpose of supporting any goofball politician, but to stand together. It’s the only way we have a chance. They’re freaking animals, folks. I don’t vote anymore when I used to vote religiously (don’t take that the wrong way; I have voted in the past for who the fuck I wanted to vote for). You know, if a national leader, a president, is a damn crook, and a dumb one, and his banking associates are gathering together to do business with these … things, we’re being led to our doom by first taking our comforts from us. The only reason this man here was elected was because he had the most money. Thanks a fucking lot. You don’t have to care for the little guys if you don’t want to … but some of you have parents, cousins, and siblings who are the little guys, and you love them very dearly. They bleed … we bleed. And regardless of who you are … “if you are a human being you have a responsibility to your fellow human being to resist the devil so that he will flee.” You can still get in. Heaven. So you made a mistake. Me, too, I went to hell, personally, and met them as a child in my mind while I was wide awake. It opened up for me in my room like a movie screen, or a diorama would be a better way of saying. The humanoid creatures there were hideous. And in torment, as they were being bred with animals and killed after their services had been rendered. True or false in reality is the question. Dunno. I just thought I ought to throw this out there. Do with it what you will.
But my guess is what all of this bestiality is about is trying to make smarter animals, make them evolve into a smarter animal, and it ain’t workin’. They thought that they could evolve them into creatures to fight along beside us to sort of take over. Or it’s a way to keep someone in hell, or create, I dunno, a talking horse? Why? is the fucking question. Why would you want your horse to talk? It’s already bad enough that your wife and children talk. Kidding.
They’re trying to compete with the God of Abraham, God who is God, one … and failing miserably, and you don’t want to be around here any longer than you have to to experience, I dunno, Mr. Chicken-leg,Chest-Head Man. Like a freak at the circus or a carnival. God didn’t deform those children or adults in those freak shows, evil did biologically … so as to have an argument against God. But why? Don’t you know any assholes?
Again, you don’t have to agree with me, but I have also done a lot of study — history, archetypes, myths — and there is a pattern which is unmistakable, and, which confirms my lucid dreaming observations at the age of 5 and 6. I want my experience to work for me, and it will, if I have to fight them by myself. Please consider this, and accept our apologies for any effect we might have on sales of the game, because it can be harmless … the only order any of you has any allegiance to is the order of man. — rcg)
Janet Devlin
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