Infinite Billy Joel Confirms Multiverse

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Doctor of Fine Arts from Syracuse University (2006).
Bob Hooke

Results of a Village Voice study (“What is Billy Joel For?”) published this evening suggest that the increased specialisation in recent years within what was once the broader field of natural philosophy is finally paying dividends. The 20 year study, headed by renowned anthrophysicist Dr Greil Marcus, has spewed up surprising conclusions, including the veracity of all recorded variants on the steampunk model of reality. While no cyberpunk realities have so far been confirmed, a number of dimensions have been observed that, it is posited, may yet develop in that direction. In a series of complex procedures that the reader will be unable to conceptualise, and which I will instead pare down to crude analogy, Dr Marcus and a vast horde of eager volunteers peeled away layers of 6-time doctor Billy Joel, and became aware very early on of something far more surprising than substance. “After the gristle and sinew,” says volunteer Sean Hill, “My chisel struck a layer of a white bone-like substance. I knew right away that we were breaking new ground in Science”. 20 years later, and Sean’s outlandish claim resembles understatement, almost. The various temperatures and atmospheric compositions have resulted in a number of deaths along the way, but the profundity of the findings would and perhaps should warrant the loss of much more mere human life. “You would expect him [Billy Joel] to get smaller the further you excavated,” says Sean Hill again, “But he didn’t. Well, sometimes he did, but other times he got bigger. I mean, much bigger, and he was made of all sorts of things. The whole lab changed. It was fucking intense. Definitely infinite.” The study will be serialised in Rolling Stone, to be published by Hodder & Stoughton in book form next year.

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180 Seconds: Rev. Col. Montgomery

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with Rev. Colonel Charles Montgomery, 1st Battalion C of E

You have long been an outspoken opponent of same-sex marriage and more generally of a perceived liberalisation within the Church of England. Why take the decision to militarise now? What’s changed?

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven. A time to kill. I know there is no good in them and God requireth that which is past.

Right. Okay. It has been noted by numerous commentators, including, as you know, some prominent voices who share many of your… traditionalist views pertaining to the future direction of the Church, that this escalation, an escalation expressly instigated by you, Reverend Colonel, coincides almost to the day with the departure of your avowed arch-nemesis, a man you have described variously as a Marxist agitator of the most pernicious creed and a necromancing, bearded Jezebel, from the helm of the Church. There is near consensus, is there not, that Mr Williams’ replacement will be a less divisive figure, if not quite the shade of candidate you would, I shudder to think, prefer to see in the Archbishopric, so I ask you again, Reverend Colonel, why now?

When so many straws are adrift in the shifting desert sands, it is a fool would think he could predict which one might break the camel’s back. If we were to learn only one thing from our Nation’s recent defensive military operations it should be this: the sooner that one takes pre-emptive defensive measures, and the less that the Enemy knows of your intentions or the lengths to which you’re willing to go, the greater are your chances of success. Week one at Sandhurst, it truly is the most rudimentary of… But I must stress, in no uncertain terms, that we are seeking a peaceful conclusion to this long struggle – a struggle, I might add, that we neither chose nor instigated – for the soul of our Church; it may be considered unfashionable in the Socialist Synod these days, but there are still some of us who believe that there is a place for Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ and the traditions that he gave us in the Church of England. Is that so unreasonable? And is it anything less than prudent that we do all that it is in our power to do to convey the sincerity with which we cherish our beliefs and to rejoice in the force of God’s everlasting and unyielding Love?

Which brings us to recent developments in London, Brighton, St Ives and elsewhere. I speak of course of the growing spate of killings that, because of the methods employed and the prominence within public life of the majority of the victims, are being, however much you might roll your eyes, referred to widely in the media as assassinations. You have been very careful, it seems to me, not to claim responsibility for any of these murders, but it is also true that you have neither condemned nor distanced yourself from them. Take Mr Tatchell, for instance. It is well documented that there was no love lost between you, and I understand that the CPS is looking into possible incitement charges against two of your less guarded colleagues. What I want to know, Reverend Colonel, is how you reconcile this with your repeated insistence that it is the sin that you hate, and not the sinner?

I can’t discuss individual assassinations, although I will say that I was saddened by Mr Tatchell’s death, as I am by all deaths; the flock is struck a heavy blow to the heart when any of its number is lost, even when the sheep in question has wilfully and knowingly wandered out among the treacherous rocks above the precipice. It is precisely because I love the sinner that I will no longer stand idly by and appease the sin as it grows in strength and number. All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing, and if this were a virus we were discussing rather than a sin, and if the virus began to manifest with a dangerous new symptom –lesions, for instance – would you suggest that we give it the benefit of the doubt? Oh, the virus only wants lesions, it’ll be satisfied if you just let it have its lesions, viruses have rights too. What a preposterous notion! You cannot negotiate with a virus, you cannot contain a virus. Know your enemy and know yourself and you can fight a thousand battles without disaster. These tears shed over known radicals, subversives, anarchists and perverts reek exactly of the debased and wanton cancer that is gnawing God’s name from the heart of this Nation and leaving a husk for the vipers to cavort in and lay their eggs. Sentimentality! I can look you straight in your eye, like this, look at me when I’m talking to you, and I can tell you with absolute certainty that these lily-livered leftists are the same people who gushed over the fire of the hosts when He tested us with the Foot and Mouth pestilence. Do You People Want the Whole Flock to Die? There can be no half measures, there can be no hesitation, there can be no clemency. Direct. Force. Between the eyes BANG between the eyes BANG and cleanse it with fire cleanse it again. Who is like unto the beast? Who is able to make war with him? And there was given unto him a mouth speaking great things and…

Reverend Colonel Charles Montgomery, thank you for your time.

A Font To Common Decency

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The true story of Tempestgate and how Bob Dylan was There at the End of News
Perhaps a bit the same in Law.

Seven letters that changed some things.

If only I had spotted it earlier, in the first few days after the unveiling of the artwork, the whole thing could have been different, this sorry sequence, this grotesque parade of factual things that happened. It is only right that this thankless task fall to me, and for what it’s worth I will not shirk it in a shirking way. I accept that as a Keen-Eyed Man of Science with a Firm Grasp of the Facts I had two basic duties, both of which I manifestly failed to perform. My failure of grasp was an inevitable consequence of my failure of eyes, and responsibility for this spiral of failure claws solely at my hunched and wretched form, bearing down, restricting my very breath. It is a bitter joke that I breathe at all, and I will not insult you with the hollow wheeze of contrition; there can be no refuge for the debased, no quarter for the unforgivable. The following is a sequence of the key events in this sordid debacle, cinematic in its scope and as vivid a piece as ever graced our language:

12/9/12 – Pontiac confirm rumoured lawsuit vs. Bob Dylan, folk-rock icon and writer of such hit songs as “All I Really Wanna Do” and “Quinn The Eskimo (The Mighty Quinn)”. Dylan Naysayers flock to showrooms.

13/9/12 – Armed fanatics torch Pontiacs, purchase standard CD jewel case release, deluxe CD release,  double vinyl LP release (with CD), iTunes release.

15/9/12 (a.m.)  – Speculation regarding mutual financial gain of Sony and Pontiac reaches critical mass in twittersphere, becomes news.

15/9/12 (p.m.) – Joint Investo-Journ Sting Op launched by Pitchfork Media and 911truth.org. Richard Nixon re-pardoned pre-emptively by Emmy Award-winning funny man Chevy Chase (Outstanding Writing in a Comedy-Variety or Music Series, “The Paul Simon Special”, 1978).

17/9/12 – Anonymous inside source (“Debbie Does Dallas”) quoted making vague assurances that if you’ve got the readies it’s on tape, capiche?

26/9/12 – Tempestgate returns to headlines when liberation of Iran deteriorates into repetitious casualty statistics, etc. Pontiac Burlesque rolls off production lines to lukewarm reviews, although it will later be considered a minor peak in Pontiac’s “missing” years, brash though not without merit.

30/9/12 – Identity of Debbie Does Dallas revealed by anonymous source (“The Opening of Misty Beethoven”) as Marvin Pontiac, no forwarding address. First tape chewed by machine, partially salvaged by means of ballpoint pen and gentle smoothing with knuckles. Bulk of contents (Sides 1 through 7, and Side 9) identified as “Jude the Obscure” by Jeremy Irons and Thomas Hardy. Further analysis reveals fragments of Boogie Nights OST and early attempts at Daniel Plainview’s accent, previously thought lost.

9/10/12 – Threat of unspecified legal action from The Office of Daniel-Day Lewis forces broadcasters to resume coverage of Tempestgate®. Violence intensifies despite appeals for peace from @Joey7Barton and @RevRichardColes.

13/10/12 – Electricity returns to Eastern Seaboard of USA. Paul McCartney found with charred remains. Remaining four Beatles and a Wing taken in for questioning, later released without charge. Yoko Ono rumoured.

15/10/12 – Senior executives at Pontiac and Sony enter into private talks at Hugh Hefner Sky Villa, Las Vegas. Unconfirmed reports of chortling and, later, guffaws. Time elapses.

19/11/12 – A man gives a statement somewhere in which he muses on the unfortunate regrettableness of these unforeseeable events. Several passers-by agree that it’s sad when people die.

20/11/12 – Sweden sweeps board at delayed Spotify Nobel Prize ceremony.

22/11/12 – Eruption of Krakatoa linked to eruption of Vesuvius.

21/1/13 – 45th and Final President of USA Willard M. Romney inaugurated. Lowest attendance since records began.

14/2/13 – Mayans emerge from volcanoes, commence repopulation.

14/2/13 to Present – Science and spirituality, united at last, lead to lasting peace and prosperity for the Mayans and their slaves.

The Indivisibility of Fact: An Overture

Just as the noble atom, building block of our universe, stands steadfast, indivisible by God or by man, by lance or by powder keg, so it is that the Facts we here grant you access to, the Purest Specimens, furthermore, since the Time of the Snake, are indivisible, unflinching, resolute and impossible to bribe, proud and austere as only a Fundamental and, I can’t stress this enough, Indivisible Whole can be. Facts are the atoms that form our Human Universe and it is the Fact, not the relatively modest atom, that makes us the Lords of All We Survey, and that cements our position as foremost among all known tool-using species.

Without Truth there can be no Beauty; you are, of course, already aware of this, as it is a simple Fact that exists primarily to introduce our children, who will one day grasp the Torch of Human Endeavour with two clenched, unyielding fists, to the process of Fact accumulation, so that these larval forms might one day take flight and break the shackles of Dependence, as Nature decrees. What, though, you ask expectantly, do I mean by Truth? Can it be touched, is it textured at all? Has it a scent? Truth is a pooling, as liquid pools, of Fact. That is all that Truth is.

I offer you my lead; you may follow. Join me in this Hymn, this Eternal Hosanna, move upwards, continuously, borne inflexibly towards Fact.

H.D. Zwerling,

Editor-in-Chief