Baley

Ah, okay then, The Sex Pistols are massively overrated, a bunch of lazy dweebs who could barely play their instruments and mutter insipid political ideals do not equal good music. The Ramones were of course better. Now, good punk bands: Bad Brains Black Flag Fugazi Husker Du The Melvins The Minutemen Mudhoney The Subhumans Turbonegro Nomeansno Etc.

Exotic

It's probably an alt.

A Thesaurus, actually.

Why yes, Dicksionaries are a sizzling past time here in Romania, how nice of you to notice.

That's because you're ignorant. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Stooges http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Velvet_Underground http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minutemen_%28band%29

I am not angry, unlike you, you pathetic little androgynous manthing, I am well beyond the emotional surges of the grand Internet. I am neither a goth, nor a metalhead, just a person with little respect or understanding for the ignorant among us.

The Velvet Underground, The Stooges, The Minutemen.

Immortel

Your taste in music is **** and you can barely spell (I'm guessing mild retardation, but won't gamble on it just yet), I suggest you shut the **** up for now. Lurk. Read. Download a spell checker. Post. (in that order)

The remastered Focus album by Cynic, this stuff is ****ing orgasmic.

Try tried teaching me to play a : When I was younger, it didn't end up well.

I too go to Church, though it is more for the music than for the religious celebration.

Pleasure to me is that feeling you get just before you ejaculate.

I can't next Saturday, it's Orthodox Easter and I'm planing on spending it with my family in the countryside. But otherwise, yes, saturdays are fine.

I'm game.

Hurting others, while unfortunate, is unavoidable. Humans are far too frail. As I'm not a firm believer in the laws of man, though clearly dominated by them, I suppose my actions would be, if ever, halted by a more personal beat.

I want to experience as much pleasure as humanly possible, that's all. If that means the end of civilized existence, for me at least, then so be it. I don't want to be an example, or a guide, there are much better people at doing just that, all I want is to be free and happy in my own right. I've made no claims as to my own status as an intellectual, in real life it has often be assumed, I find it all far to perplexing to honest.

It's not natural, self-control has been built into us by society, whether that's a good or bad thing I do not know, but it's already inside, so what we can do now is either ignore it or release ourselves from it's burden, step by step of course. I'd say that intellectually derived pleasures are those that force us to play a more spectating part, the observer if you will.

It's to do with humans and their search for pleasure. You put your life at risk for that moment of clarity that may or may not come, pure unhinged pleasure. It's like a drug, you need more and more and you sink, you sink lower and lower searching for it, craving for it. That's the ideal. Or you could of course close your eyes and sing La La La and hope that it will all go away and that it will stop glaring at you from inside the mirror on the wall.

I drink them both regularly, it wouldn't matter much, my body hardly ever reflects on such issues, but I am inherently cheap, so I'd take 24 pack. Now if there was a choice between something that tasted like coke and something that tasted like, say, a good wine. I'd take the pseudo-wine can.

It's actually a home-video, "Mr Hands", I'm sure you could find it, very interesting from a philosophical point of view.

Hah! Pleasure is pleasure, the way one achieve's it is hardly important. Intellectual pleasures are for people who could never grasp that self-experience is 1000 times more powerful than simple observation or understanding. A man ****ed to death by a horse is, to me, the epitome of the human condition. The man loves it, the horse doesn't care, the horse is a simple vessel, a machine, but the man cares about his toy, he even, with his final breath, asks if the horse had culminated its onslaught. That is art, that is pleasure, everything else pales in comparison to the man that gave his life to achieve that one moment of perfect euphoria.

I'd take a good **** with a primordial whore before all that junk. You see, humans come and humans go, but pleasure, the deepest carnal pleasure, that's eternal, part of the fabric of the universe.

It had more to do with some people role-playing outside the main-window and with Ender via private windows and intertwined backstories.