For those of you who do not know me -- I am the Very Esteemed Universal Philosopher of Absolute Reality Reverend Frodis Pshaw.
Those SubGenii fortunate or courageous enough to have attened the X-Day XII drill know me as Rev. "Suds."
I wish to take this opportunity to thank the SubGenius Foundation and staff that attended this recent Rupture for putting on an event that this mutant will not soon forget -- I'd say it's take at least a month
Many SubGenius have been attending these events for years -- some as far back as the first drill in 1996 by Conspiracy Calender. And some may shrug and say "You've seen one X-Day drill, you've seen'em all."
To them I say this: X-Day is what you make of it -- and if you're not having fun, you've no one to blame but yourself. And I made my X-Day drill simply the most amazing experience that I can remember having in a long, long time.
Scoff and mock at this admission if you wish -- but during my 5 day stint at Brushwood, I encountered some of the genuine, the most considerate and the most frighteningly intelligent people I've ever had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with.
From the tireless preparation of Rev. Ivan Stang to the sheer brilliance of Dr. Howll --
From the razor wit and tongue of Suzie the Floozy to the madness that is Lonesome Cowboy Dave --
From the feedback inducing cleavage of Priestess Pisces to the ominous presence of Dr. K'taden Legume --
From the sweetness of Princess Wei "R." Doe to even the bullhorn of Modemac --
And to all the Yeti I had the honor to meet, phliosophize with, and got down and boogied: Dr. Holocaust, AlcheMinister Orpheus Stain, Sister Decadence, Dok Frop, Rev. Nickie Deathchick, Crazy Jim Jones, Rev. Eggplant and family, Lord Cyclohexane, SuperKim, Rev. Jellybeans, Sex Mortis and Princess Buzz Kill (formerly Princess X) and the more than three dozen more SobGenii who I became acquainted with -- I hope to see you all again rising high into the sky boarding those saucers for our Promised Land.
All have gained this freak of nature's admiration and respect -- especially Ivan Stang, who year after year has put up with more than his fair share of dipshits and wannabe Bobbies and yet continues to organize THE best End of the World celebration that any wacky, subversive cult could ask for.
And to the infamous Rev. Pickles -- we shall meet again -- for there can be only one.
To my fellow journeymen: Col. Christopher Lee and Priestess Pantiara Evokovitch who together braved the 7 plus hour drive from the Hoosier State -- When the hell are we unemployed and under-employed mutants going to throw a Dobbs damn Devival?!! Only time/Slack/funds will tell, so stay in touch! Quijibo forever!!!
To the staff at Brushwood -- thank you for putting up with the insanity that is the Church of the SubGenius -- a lesser group would have ran screaming for the hills by now.
And finally -- to the few dumbasses and dipshits who just couldn't take or get the joke -- guess you won't be back next year to piss in our collective corn flakes. Of course, that just means a whole new slew of dumbasses and dipshits to contend with. But sometimes you ust take the bad with the good -- and the drill staff have gotten pretty good over the years dealing with the likes of you. Good riddance.
After all is said and done -- I want to thank everyone for an amazing 5 days. All the other cults and so called religions need to take a lesson from our little congregation -- a lesson in blood, bondage and bearing. The SubGenius ain't going anywhere, for we are the chosen few -- "Bob" is eternal -- Our Slack will see us through -- and all the pink boys and girls can suck a fart from our collective arses.
Glory to Slack
and Fuck the Conspiracy -- may the fleas from a thousand camels infest the armpits of the agents of the Con!
Till next year, friends -- Lucky 13!!!
May "Bob" bless and keep your pocketbook.
I'd also like to make mention of the musical stylings of Phat Man Dee, Fat Free, and John Deere Tractor Beam -- and we must make mention of the Amino Acids, lest they should come to our homes with brain melting devices of various sizes.
Say you’ve convinced yourself that Slack is nothing more than an unattainable pipe dream.
Maybe you feel that this whole thing really is just some sort of stupid joke.
Perhaps you’re thinking to yourself “Fuck “Bob!”
Well – fear not, my friends – fucking “Bob” is kinda the point.