CCCC 6/29/04

Dear recipients of the bimonthly newsletter for the CCCC:

Chanced to behold such a day! The clowns are rolled back in their bullet busted bellies lying backwards over black sedans! As the creme de le creme evolves into even better tasting goodness for all the substituentiaries to enjoy! Haven't I something grande, something worth all the sowing, sprouting, and spiking to every which way irregardless of the paths we have taken to get to this point of utter celebration and magnitudity of minds!

The mule indeed shines in the orient, where captors have befallen the many affects of nerve agents and hallucinogens. Success, grappled by many, now comes to my heart and soul. Pburton is now in our midst and back where the hands that bore him now offer celestial comfort and everlasting grace. We now rest in the mattress of happiness and drink the nectar of joy within our very solace slapping depediments. Oh, if our enemies could only hear and fear! Our greatest force has been reclaimed! We have nature's best breed of human usurptionatory power within one entity, that is, the respective mind, body, and soul of the man with alias pburton. Oh, let the heavens rejoice and the earth sing!

Now for some pressing cautionatory regards and blisteringly blastful remarks from those who would see this organization crumble: Our promising ally and friend, John Kerry, has indeed turned his back on us and perhaps intends to undermine us as well as our mad nemesis, Bush. How flabberingly foolish! Our world domination is inevitable! We will win the war! But this traitor must be dealt with accordinly. Thus, I call agents Dendall, BTown, and Mariza into training for the collection of secretive information, labled "spying" in the vernacular. Let us hope any attempt at assassination goes unnoticed by the public, if indeed this drastic measure is required. I actually believe that Kerry will make no attempt to do such a thing, having trained him myself, but minds gone ill with all good intent only produce evil. Thus I command and demand you to keep him under at least four eyes at all times.
How paradoxical, how such two extremes of events have happened within the same period of time! I almost fall to the floor exhausted from the energy used in my mastermind plans and seeing them fall to ruin. But let us never give up. Even if Kerry has left our organization, he is still a significantly lesser threat to us. Both Kerry and Bush know extensively about our organization, but any leakage of this information into the public would revert society back to segregation and a fear of the jungle, which no country wants. Which, I ask you, would serve as the more opportune?

Our efforts produce success nonetheless, no matter what happens, do I make myself clear and undefamed? I sure hope so, seeing the crux of the matter is our integrity as an organization. Brotherhood, that is what I preach. We must bond closer together than any soldiers sharing foxholes. We must sustain the lives of our fellow crop circle fabricators as if they were our own. So persevere, keep fighting, never give up until the day in which pending glory finalizes the transaction and we see the rollovers of success and utter madness, in which our regime will dominate, not only this world, but eventually the entire universe!

Within and without the fields of service at the present ticking, I remain

Dr. Townsmite
Founder and CEO of the CCCC, in establishment since 1948

****Warning: this publication is a poisonous snake to all who abuse its contents****

CCCC 6/16/04

Dear recipients of the bimonthly newsletter for the CCCC:

Good day, fellow frock wearing substituentiaries! Finally, a new sun is rising over the highest peaks and melting the icy fog and warming our spirits! We have made it through the storm. I write this with every ounce of my soul drunk with many draughts of wine, as if emotion was a substance worth drinking and savoring, which I indeed do at this moment.

Red Heron Track 3 went amazingly and beurhastically well, mind you respective pessimistic substituents. You meant your words for evil, but Fate meant them to be dealt with laughter. Never underestimate the extreme genius potential of the connected mindfields of the CCCC. You have seen our enemies crumble as cookies in their own undergarments, that is to say implosion or being destroyed from within. How do you think the same fate won’t come to the traitor and the unregenerate?

Our contacts in the media successfully took the blueprints of the assignment and put them into graceful action, smeltering the American public mind into a mesh of limp noodles. As of now, our largest enemy, President Bush, is being made into a little child more and more as the days of slandering and biased media coverage continue. Before long our long-awaited contact, Mr. Kerry, will be swarming the white house with political force and will start transforming America into a breeding ground for excessive CCCC substituentuaries. Yes, yes, I can see it now, the days of glory rolling into perpetual goodness and utter happiness as we fellow crop circle fabricators get a chance to sit back comfortably in our suede sofas and sip on the wine of joyful emotion, reaping the harvest that we havest sown.

However, victory has not been issued completely to our cause. Work, indeed grueling, impeccable work remains in between us and the shining medal. I bring to your minds a warning of usurption. Do not trust anyone, except of course myself. But on a happier note, I have recently become aware that the assassination attempt on codename pburton has not been enacted to full incapacitation. This assassination was not one of ours, but of our enemies. As of now, pburton is being held hostage at a prisoner camp within the small country of Kuwait, indeed a Persian kitten. I call up shining mule track 4. I issue a direct operation for codenames strellick, tthomp, massenassassine, and wretchedflet. These respective officers will report to me for further details for the mission. Good luck, in ordinances and in stagnation.

I was truly saddened to hear of pburton’s death over a month ago, but this recent news of his survival despite captivity brings flipping shrieks of Freudian psyches to my mind. Pburton stood nobly as one of my most decorated and trusted associates as well as a secret agent and personal friend of mine own. Very versatile, pburton was. Bring him back to me, and the rewards will be fat and juicy.

As a few of you can tell, this message has been written with a tone of comfort and joy and hope for the future, which contrasts the tone of the previous message you received. This has occurred simply because circumstances are lifting up in countenance and our plans and efforts have reached a very critical and exciting point in this career.

Just think how a small band of rebels back in the early 1940’s could have grown so powerful and so great in just a short 60 years. Our lies and deceitful tactics have baffled the American public for years. Our efforts just recently within the past decade have pointed toward international opportunities. But with greater expanse comes greater necessary caution and defensive maneuvers. Although aged, I am still stronger than ever, especially in mind and spirit. This is why I preside over the organization. Believe me—were I in a stronger state of prime beef and body I would in definition be fighting alongside all of you fellow substituents. I almost burst with excitement and a desire to participate when I hear of your work in those fields, businesses, parliaments, bands of ruffians, military bases, and wherever else your fascinating work finds you. But remember—always be on the defensive and never reveal to anyone your secrets, especially your secrets about life, love, and the pursuit of heapingly sized cropcircles. I say this to your shame, as many potentially good substituents have turned against our cause and have been sadly eliminated. Fight on, good sirs, fight the good fight, run the race that is set before you, enduring the pains and toils for now, because one day, one day my dear friends you will see the light and the end of your work will be revealed in all its magnitude—a myriad of shining stars willingly bowing their light down to you in indentured servitude.

In glaringly snickerful craftiness and deception, I remain

Dr. Townsmite
Founder and CEO of the CCCC, in establishment since 1948

****Warning: this publication contains sensitive information and should be handled with hair****

Deeds awaken fell shrimps

6.14.04 Thoughts! To all various farthings

Break the Sheetz! I shall resign from my three-year occupation. Why? For oneandonly one reason: IT'S TOO GRUNDGILY BUSY! Now: one thing to tell: I have mistakenly ended up in the occupation of sales, which has left me with less money and more heartbreak. But at least I don't fight with nail and tooth for a decent schedule.

I would like to commend Paul Burton for his strong convictions and his willingness to sprout it to all, which is definitely what free speech is all about. And I want to say that what he said is absolutely true: our lives, in entirety, don't really amount to much except for the relationships with people and with God.

I have found the thing that I need to succeed in work and life: discipline. But Dendall intervenes and inturrupts my thought process with a resonating flatulent. So when Dendall's microscopic particles of crap are floating into my nasal passages, I will ignite a Lysol aerosol can and burn the source of propagation away from my midst.

Character -- something that one, including the president of the CCCC, is hard pressed to find in today's utmost voluptuous society, as revealed by the voluptuous nude. But I'm not talking about the opposite gender. I fear violation has occurred in my situation, and I do really wish to say no more. Except for simply the fact that I have become voluptuous for only God knows why. Perhaps stagnant microscopic air particles are affecting my brain.

And finally, I vent a plethora of emotions which deal with grappling thorns from stupid human nature. Sanctification -- it hurts sometimes. But not as much as the stench of a sudden release from Dendall's digestive tract.

Ahh, now things come into focus, as my paradigm shifts into gear.

To all the ones who hear my voice
A muffled echo of a valiant noise
While standing on the edge and poised
I bid thee solace for your wounds

Pain and shame I fear have come
From a fool with loosened tongue
For rules I knew and even sung
Fall broken all of them too soon

But fall I not from deeds amiss
Three steps remain to the precipice
I have a choice although the kiss
Of giving in beats firm 'gainst chest

The unmapped future lies ahead
I travel into land untread
My path is certain, the books are read
Though my eyes can't see the rest

If one true lesson I may learn
Then let it be than my life harmed
If in the course of mistakes unmade
I learn the wrong and seize the day

For no valiant warrior springs o'er night
Or graceful mares of mighty flight
Find such amazing strength when born
So I must tread through sandals torn

So, to do that which has been left undone, "Hello", good sirs and such fine madams, that is to say "My Dame!" But ug course, I most assuredly wouldn't venture up within whispering distance of one of the "good sirs" and retort this same expression. That would render me one who indeed has a likening for the same cow, and "watched too much voluptuous tube". How can the corneas remain fixed on one object for an extended period of time? I find this activity most artificial and becoming more and more voluptuous indeed. Voluptuosity is used in almost every advertisement one sees, which is indeed why I have coined this appliance the "voluptuous tube".

Witch, I heard one of the ones remark extremely recently, as in microseconds ago via memoranda, "Sitting and watching [voluptuous tube] zaps your creativity..." - Pau Piltdownman

I must fight with hand and tooth, tactics uncouth, to find a job worth noting by a certain respectable gentleman. Well, perhaps the situation isn't this dramatic. However, I in most apparent striking reality must have a good amount of activity in the next few weeks in which to accomplish this feat. Therefore, please make intercession for me as I venture out against the better of my evil nature and attempt to battle the flesh in more ways than one.

Ba hum dee dum, indeed I will rip out a microscope and clench a detective's magnifying lens and proceed to zap the microns on my epidermis. However, since our struggle is not with flesh and blood, I instead must rip out a horse's tail and transplant it on my dog, for as we all know, dogs' mouths are much cleaner than a horse's tongue.

But I haven't even mentioned pathogens! Perhaps I should invent a new kind of biological warfare specimen that targets any cell with the same genetic makeup as Dendall. But wait! A new hooded apparition has appeared in the building (as opposed to leaving the building, such as the king of Chemistry, Newog, Newo's arch nemixis). The pathogens have been emitted from such a crude source as can only be named TUDE, that is to say, "Toxic Unstable Dendall Emission." Newog! Rargh!

Or should I blabber, "Gowen?" Fwa ha ha! The derogatory inflammation continues! Target! Zoooooooom ker chup PLANK!

The blunt end of my arm now resembles a cylinder. Something has gone terribly wrong. I will die a slow, painful death, but not until Dendall says his peace. Do you not know? Dendall speaks not with his mouth, but something at quite the opposite end of the spectrum. Because the damage to my arm is so perrilous, the doctors can only offer me solace for the damage to my brain by TUDE emissions.

So, after the blunt end of my arm is fully healed, I will be able to attach all kinds of cool prosthetic devices onto it, such as high-powered laser beams, purple-nurple exuberators, pink frilly feathers (for social settings), and, of course, the implanted blade, and, of hoarse, the RAGE retractor. Particles in the nose cause blackouts and seemingly uncivilized actions from otherwise normal law abiding citizens.

So we come to the final resolution: What shall I do now with jobs? Well, as in many other times in my life, I must trust God. I have been given a disturbed spirit, as my future has once again become uncertain. But, now I will be able to rely more on God instead of my stupid human intellect. Therefore, I leave the entirety of this chunk of maggoty meat for you and your fellow Uruk-Hai to divide and conquer.

Faregurgling

(I wonder if this is indeed an oxymoron, such as someone is a crapface and their face is covered with crap. For, if the two were true, the statement would just logically be saying that my face is covered with face)

In regards to rotten pumpkins, I had nothing to do with it.

But I did place peanuts and dihydrogen monoxide in a hairspray bottle once in the hopes of creating a pleasant aroma, only creating a pseudo-TUDE stench. My brother later tried to use it but, after finding it malfuntionatory, the room filled with microscopic particles of rotten peanuts carrying bacteria and toxins. I say no more, except to say that I probably should be sorry, but still find it extremely hilarious.

And as far as a wet dog goes, a shaved one is far better.

And, of course, furmented venom tastes like chicken.

A shove off in the opposite direction is the equivalent of the opposite of male-bonding. So ha.

Donmoot.

p.s. My drainage systems are malfunctioning, and the only remedy is rapid eye movement. But in order to reach this state, the frequency of my brain waves must decrease.

Paul's Letter

Today I shall post something that is not my own. The following is from a very dear friend of mine, one whom I shall refer to as PBurton, the pragmatic burlyman. He wrote this email a few months back, and I wish now to leave you to travel through this man's neurons instead of mine own.


"Dear friends,

"It is an interesting thing when a man realizes that all of his life, and everything that has led up to the end of it, has been utterly meaningless. I say this, not because I feel like I am living a hopeless existence, but because I have come to a new realization that my life in and of itself means nothing. Let me say it another way. If my life were simply meat to be lived, enjoyed, savored and love by me, there would be not point to living.

"I deal with dying patients every day. For those of you that don't know, I work on a cancer ward. The point of this is, when I talk to people about their lives, and how they lived when they could get around, they are happy to talk about it. But invariably there is an awkward silence when they remember that they are here in the cancer ward because the days of their lives are coming to a close.

"What does a man think about when he is waiting for the death that he knows is coming? Well, I can safely say that none of the patients that I have cared for ever told me about this hot girl he made out with in high school, or how he used to hang out with his buddies and get into mischief. No, for the most part I hear about family, loved ones, and regrets. Then many times their thoughts turn to what happens after death. Some don't know, or won't listen to God. Others smile with joy to know that soon they will be "Going Home". Without getting into a debate about ethics, truth, or morality, I can still say this: Christians, (True Christians) die happily. I have never seen a person who was glad to die, who was not a Christian.

"You may argue with me, but what I say is true. True Christianity is not a religion, but a relationship. A friendship with the Creator of everything that exists. We find in our lives that there is no way to "work off" the sin* in our lives, and also realize that Jesus Christ made a way so that our sin could be erased. Once you realize that one fact that is universally true, you find new meaning to life. A life that was once spent serving self is instead used in praise and service to the God that saved you from death and will one day bring you into His eternal Kingdom. Praise be to the Mighty God who Saves.

"I want to close with this. If a man who knows that his death is coming in the next few weeks wants to focus on praising and glorifying God, then why do we, who have no clue whether this breath will be our last, spend so much time avoiding Him? When you enter into God's eternal presence, would it not be better to know that the last moments of your life were spent showing others the grace of God? Brethren, sistren, why are we so concerned with pleasing ourselves? do we really think that video games, money, sex, fame, acceptance, glory or any other thing will satisfy us? No. Only knowing that we did everything to please God; Only knowing that He was our satisfaction; Only knowing that all we want is for others to be blessed and to see God. To find salvation, and love in Jesus Christ, that is the meaning of life.

"I pray that this letter finds you all well, and that you would all be blessed with a newness of life as you strive to acknowledge, praise and serve God in everything.
Bless you all,
Pburton (Back from the dead to serve up another slice for the CCCC)

"P.S., now that I'm back, I've got this great looking ethereal glow to add to the CCCC's crop mashing antics.


"*Galatians 5:19-24 says this:
19The acts of the sinful nature are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; 20idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions 21and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God. 22But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. 24Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the sinful nature with its passions and desires.
(Paul, the writer of Galatians also says that we daily struggle to kill the old nature that causes us to sin. This means that we are not perfect simply because we are forgiven, but that we can be forgiven and seen as perfect.) "

Good Stuff.