OUT-TAKES FROM
REVELATION X -- THE "BOB"APOCRYPHON
|
The following are random excerpts from a small fraction of the 1,000
pages that were CUT from the new SubGenius book. This material is provided to SubGenius collectors
only and is not to be reprinted. These sections were cut for
varying GOOD REASONS.
Although none of the following disconnected paragraphs are meant to relate
to one another, they are "chronological" in that they appear in
the order in which they were were removed from the manuscript. In
other words, the first bits are from Chapter One and the last are from the
Appendix. Since these are CUTS, they don't reflect at all accurately the
final product.
The primary authors are Ivan Stang, Philo Drummond, G. Gordon Gordon, and
Palmer Vreedees, although dozens of others are represented as well; the
credits page for Revelation X includes around 50 names.
We have broken this mess up into 14 documents. This page, for instance, contains the material removed from the first couple of chapters. The rest:
THE BRAG OF THE CONSPIRACY by Onan Canobite
SILENT RADIO by Dr. Philo Drummond
THE CONSPIRACY
"BOB" and CONNIE
MUTANTIS
SINS and SEX
GIVE 'TIL IT HURTS by Papa Joe Mama
HELL
XISTS and UFOs
PREDICTIONS and X-DAY
RELIGION
THE 3 PROGRAMS by Nenslo
SLACK and TIME CONTROL (Interview with the OverMan)
APPENDIX (Zoogz Rift's Confession, Ivan Stang sermon)
SATANIC COSMOS. Small. Inexpensive. Reaches millions. Growing in better
closets everywhere.
Just as you are spurred by your differentness and mysterious forces,
these words must be here to lead you to enlightenment like a pig
to slaughter.
-- You are about to learn secrets once revealed only to faithful
students of vast quantities of rigorous cosmic lore, but this time without
the boring recitations, priestly mumbo-jumbo and hocus pocus. Yes, you are
about to enter the Akashic Records and play `em at 78 rpm!
There are really two Churches -- the public Church for the fans, Bobbies
and any other human suckers. Then there's the true Church, which has always
existed (albeit by a thousand different names) and which is composed of
those rare "Doktors," Apostles for "Bob" and Fishers
of Wallets who truly `know' Slack. (Ironically, most "True Subs"
have never even heard of the Church of the SubGenius, and are still latent.)
"WHAT "BOB" HAS DONE FOR ME"
"Before I found "Bob," I was, to put it bluntly, FUCKED.
Now I have quit my job, thrown away my watch, stopped giving a SHIT what
THEY think, and have stopped exercising and eating right. I tell people
just what I think, and get more and better sex, just by being myself. (I
never would have believed it!) I've lost all interest in alcohol, sedatives,
or stimulants, but attained the mental stability to withstand and enjoy
incredibly powerful hallucinogens. Almost all my dreams have come
true, and I found True Love to boot! I WON!! SO THERE, FUCKERS!!" --
J. Danforth Quayle
YOU SCOFF!?!
Go back to your wasteland of malls, McDonalds and K-Marts! You're
only sleepwalking through the Revolving Door of Life, you kiss-ass,
image-fitting sperm ape! TRUE SLACK cannot be cut, diced or sliced!
You Pawn of the drunken fundamentalist zeal of a zillion baboons and flags
and lies... Don't forget the prayer breakfast before your beauty appointment,
ma'am...
"And yet then did they come to him awash in the spirits, falling and
stumbling and calling out his name. But he walked on from them until he
came in unto Norton, and did spurt in her awhile, biding his time unto the
return of his disciplinarians, who were of goodly number thereto."
-- (Conniptions 1:23)
Also: when the Xists do arrive from space to save the SubGenii and viciously
punish the Norm-worms, well, don't get a swelled head about it.[1]
You're just the coin of the realm to them. They have scheduled what
is to them a very minor business transaction to negotiate with "Bob,"
but their main purpose in stopping will actually be to empty their
latrines and and dump their exo-dimensional garbage. All they have
to do on X-day is `flush.' Their wastes alone are marvelously complex masses
of psychic energy `foam,' a living tracery of energy that will control earth
society forever -- capable of assuming whatever form is desired by the person
who uses the MWOWMatter.
If the brain user can `sync up,' if only for scant seconds at a time, with
the anti-mechanisms of nonthought lurking in the Stupid Brain, instantaneous
action will spurt forth automatically.
"Bob" has spent his life exhorting, "Pull the wool over
your own eyes and relax in the safety of your own delusions!" Yet
his parables often have just the opposite effect. People line up, cash
in hand, hoping to relax in the safety of his delusions -- proving
to themselves, by giving him money, that they too are truly stupid.
Many who donate are lawyers, doctors, inventors, scientists, world leaders,
religious philosophers and famous artists. They know that as the years progress,
their incomes and peace of mind will be increasingly dependent not on their
wit, perceptiveness, or ethical judgement, but on their lack thereof.
"AIIEEE Killme "Bob." For I have seen your 8-track mind and
lo, you have put a digital delay on time control. You have phased and phlanged
and phucked reality. You take the fear and stomp it. You clobber bad vibes
in the chops. You are the holy Funk factor. You're a rockin' bopper "Bob."
You're ultrabad. The circuitry in your brain runs on arc welder voltage.
You are electric and clever. You overdub the beat on the slackless lick.
You are the Sole Man. You think in algebraic formulae. Man that's tuf. Whip
a Sin wave on me "Bob" and help me through the white noise of
my electromagnetic head. AOVERMEN." -- Rev. Dr. Maka Dudi
Many cannot intellectually accept that this is the way "Bob" works,
that he is smart enough to be dumb enough to always do the WRONG THING,
PERFECTLY.
The SubGenius must admit to itself that it is nowhere near stupid enough.
Even among the living SubGenius Apostles, only Dr. Philo Drummond has
so much as nibbled the edge of the patty of the great cosmic Hamburger of
Slack that is the final goal. The rest of us are still only licking at the
lettuce hanging out the sides.
Jesus may have died for your sins, but
J.R. "BOB" DOBBS MADE A DAMN FOOL OUT OF HIMSELF FOR
YOUR SINS!
WHAT IS "BOB"?
(with apologies to Dan Valentine)
He's tomorrow with a smile on his face... He's progress with a pipe in his
mouth.
His earnings make the world go around... His friendly handshake meets the
payrolls of the planet...
He's one heck of a salesman.
He is retailer, wholesaler, jobber to humanity. He is exploitation with
an open mind, hope in a pair of shined shoes, Slack in a gray suit.
He has the biggest, strongest pair of feet in America. He's a merchant of
daydreams, a dealer in delusion.
He's part magician, part actor, part missionary... He's peddler, huckster,
pitchman... He's a carnival barker in the world's biggest side show... The
Earth is his store...
He's one hell of a salesman.
He can be found everywhere: in railroad pullman cars, in airport smoking
sections, in the backs of buses, walking downtown streets, cruising downtown
bars, and cooped up in cheap hotel rooms late at night with three hookers
and a jug of Jim Beam.
To his competitors, he's death. His satisfaction is a clean, fast "kill."
Presidents fear him, industrialists pay blackmail to him, but all their
wives love him...
Secretaries of alien space gods make him wait in the outer office.
He's the ultimate salesman!
He's the Svengali behind every surge of history. "Bob" sold the
Mayflower to the Pilgrims, and talked the Indians into letting Manhattan
Island go for $24. He brokered tickets for the Hindenburg and the Titanic.
Behind every act of domination, there has been a salesman peddling a fantasy.
He's a poker player... a dice-shooter... He's a politician, judge, teacher,
public speaker, psychologist, psychiatrist, minister, petty thief, bigamist,
and world dictator all wrapped up in a bundle of nervous energy.
He's the middleman between Maker, and User... He's everybody's friend...
and no man's man.
He is THE Sales Man.
Prior to Jesus, the alien space god JHVH-1 primarily used fear tactics and
brute force on His test subjects, the humans and Yetinsyny -- first through
the Xists but later, in Biblical days, by His own direct intervention. However,
this produced frustratingly random mutations in us, often just the opposite
of what He desired -- for His interjection of a "prophet," or
similar extra-evolved catalyst, often inspired in His "lab rats"
a measure of SENSELESS HOPE for ESCAPE despite INSURMOUNTABLE ODDS. Their
blind monkey urge to mimic their betters ironically granted them a smidgeon
of the same cockiness that empowers the gods -- bringing humanity closer
and closer to being competitors with Them!
The Space God tired of His directives getting lost in the translation; even
with the Xists, and then Jesus, Buddha, Jim Jones and all the other "prophets"
as spokesbeings for Him, the orders were being garbled badly.
Where He miscalculated was in underestimating Dobbs' independence. Dobbs
would be J-1's luckiest spokesman, but by the same token he had no
reason to take orders or even to remember them. Dobbs immediately started
telling people the whole truth. The Conspiracy was Yod-He Uno's pet
project, and He had chosen "Bob" to head it -- but instead, Dobbs
organized the counter-conspiracy and reestablished contact with the Xists,
trying to re-sell this pitiful planet right out from under the Conspiracy
slave-masters.
The Universe must contend with "Bob," for "Bob"
does not contend with anything. If "Bob" seems to be having trouble,
it is only that Creation is momentarily out of phase around him.
Those who get physically or psychically close to "Bob"
are inevitable drawn into that bubble of totally subjective reality, where
all becomes living surrealism. No one else can exist as far down the well
as "Bob" is; he will eventually absorb ALL the luck. But those
who are orbiting near him, deep in the Luck Plane, can partake of some
of what is flowing to him. They are in a particularly turbulent area, just
above the still center that "Bob" occupies; their luck is always
transient, because it's on its way to "Bob"... thus it
can be "white" or "black" luck.
Although there's no reason for SubGenii to needlessly spurn the useful
aspects of the New Age (i.e., the sex), it's imperative that we dump the
corn, which enpinkens and clouds "Bob's" vision of you. Without
all the stupid Pollyanna Milquetoast crystal-hugging mumbo-jumbo, "Bob"
Awareness(TM) alone provides all the basic powers needed to channel demons,
dominate others, vampirize souls, etc., that are offered by any rival New
Age cults -- but because of our connection with the quantum energy field
and "Bob," you won't even need those powers.
Some weaklings may also object that the many are being sacrificed for the
few -- and even then, it's only temporary; all Dobbs will have done is to
postpone the disaster. Yes, he's just continuing to stall, like the perennial
bumbling dope dealer: "I, uh, lost the phone number, man..." But,
because he is THE inept, cheap hustling galactic dope salesman,
he's the only one who can withstand being near the Elder Gods...
the only one dumb enough to be psychically immune, impervious through his
own Inner Stupidity, to the psychic horrors of those Old Ones. To anyone
else's mind, they'd manifest as something so indescribably hideous that
it would cause a human being to rip itself apart in terror. But "Bob"
sees them only as customers -- and thus is able to "come on" to
them with such unseemly familiarity.
The Elder Gods, unlike some humans, know better than to try to kill him.
And what are they doing about the Time Intersection? Do they even
know about it? Did "Bob" tell them? Do they read SubGenius
literature? Did "Bob" just make that part up?[2]
He plays the Yacatisma against the Xists, JHVH-1 against the other Elder
Gods, etc., because he's definitely on Earth's side. He's trying
to preserve the things of this planet that he likes: hamburgers,
strip shows, cheap vodka, his many families and so forth. And he enjoys
the game of the SubGenius. He just thought it up one day, and it seems to
be running itself without his ever paying much attention to it. He finds
that amazing.
THE BRAG OF THE CONSPIRACY by Onan Canobite
SILENT RADIO by Dr. Philo Drummond
THE CONSPIRACY
"BOB" and CONNIE
MUTANTIS
SINS and SEX
GIVE 'TIL IT HURTS by Papa Joe Mama
HELL
XISTS and UFOs
PREDICTIONS and X-DAY
RELIGION
THE 3 PROGRAMS by Nenslo
SLACK and TIME CONTROL (Interview with the OverMan)
APPENDIX (Zoogz Rift's Confession, Ivan Stang sermon)