Friends, I am in some trouble. And I have to say something -- as part of my censure from the Institute of Mental Parasitism -- that I am very sorry for my previous posts on this subject. EXHIBIT A and EXHIBIT B.
The Institute, having met in emergency session, specifically demanded that I photograph myself dressed in my Sunday finest and attach a cloth leash to a pair of my blue jeans, then post it on my blog, to illustrate the warning against putting the cart before the horse. And so I have, highlighting it in yellow to call attention to it, another demand. They can be real mean dudes, threatening to strip me of certification in mental parasitism if I don't. Yes, it's a bitter pill to swallow, but with them being the only institute with the ability to certify, what am I to do?
Further, I am to "admit" that any previous teachings that I erroneously gave in public, the two posts referenced above, are in error, are fiction, and are meant "For Entertainment Purposes Only," offering no actual teachings on mental parasitism, being false in every way. So, yes, I "admit" that. If you think you read anything actual as pertaining to true mental parasitism, you are wrong. They are 100% false, nothing to worry about, nothing to be interested in, and definitely -- I repeat, definitely, for God's sakes -- nothing to try on your own.
Believe me, I see the wisdom in this censure. Of course I knew the power of mental parasitism is immense, but I thought with the few pointers I had given that I would only whet the appetite of people to enter the path in the legitimate way, and so they'd grow in maturity and discipline. But just the opposite has occurred, which leaves me in a terrible spot.
I hate to see the consequences of so many of you crossing the boundaries to your detriment. To think I had a role in that is a terrible blow. I don't know if I'll be able to continue in the same spirit which I had. In the more immediate future, having this shame and guilt, I imagine I will be the ultimate wet blanket at Christmas. My family will look over and see me in the large chair, my mind misfiring, my fingers barely able to find the tape on my gifts. But that's still a month away; please pray I recover.
It turns out people are smart, even if they're not wise. They were able to take the few pointers I gave -- who knew? -- and devise for themselves a workable plan of mental parasitism, even if it lacked in some of the specifics both of received tradition and the more potent riffing on the traditions of the masters. The consequences for themselves and others is something I will have to live with, despite my fervent wish that I could somehow turn back the hands of time and find myself simply blogging on the weather, politics, or the new puppy I'm getting.
Seriously, I'm getting a new puppy! How about that! With Underbrush's passing last December I thought, The pain is unbearable, I'll never be able to share my love again with a puppy. But time heals all wounds, apparently, although, naturally, I've literally never tested that theory, having to this point not experienced "all wounds."
Meanwhile, back at Guilt Ranch, my foolish disclosures, going against everything I intended, has left the sidewalks littered with the sucked out carcasses of people, now the unwitting victims of premature (foolish) mental parasitism. I hear there's been quite a few, since the techniques are very powerful, even when misused, and perhaps especially then. At the library, they've found men as big as mountains, McDonald's drinks spilled everywhere, draped over the banisters and even hidden under tables. Also women with tangerine scarves litter the vicinity.
The fever, as it were, has extended beyond my local town as well. With many 140-character briefs on Twitter, which I call "tweets," telling of great vibratory essence depletion from Spain to Timbuktu. The Russians are in turmoil -- that's kind of a positive -- as desperate Ukrainians have turned to mental parasitism, and now are despoiling the invading hosts. And with the reports of massive posters in the public square of a near-nude Vladimir Putin, I can only wish them godspeed.
Similarly, I have a terrible report, kind of a bummer, confirmed by numerous sources, that South America isn't even there anymore! That warrants an exclamation point, right?
So I'm sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. At this point tripartite sorrow is all I can give. I can only hope now we don't lose any more of our precious brothers and sisters around the world, including, of course, all our remaining continents, populated as they are with thousands of innocents, unknown to me in name, but existing there. I believe they will be OK, just as long as the principles of mental parasitism are strictly held to, in accordance with responsible, guided practice.
Please, friends, get these teachings from the Institute only, and be as responsible as you can.