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MrDoolittle

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Posts posted by MrDoolittle


  1. This place blows. I've got better things to do with my life, I've realized, than "hang around" this cess pool. For instance, I notice from the ad on the left that North Cascades Mountain Guides are offering Inrto to Alpine Rock "Couses", whatever the fuck those are.

     

    Future anthropologists will look back on cascadeclimbers.com with disgust, revolted by the depravity of the modern human condition. "Absent the normal modes of human interaction, post-modern man sought the digital caress in the form of an electronic community." "Look At Me!!" digital attention seeking, anonymous posters stroking your meat over the climbs you do.

     

    Is this why you climb? So that you can race home and post the epic of your most recent success, in all it's adjectival glory. So that you can be in The Club? Or are you still trying to get Dad's attention?

     

    Whatever. To all of you who suck, enjoy your incest. And special a "Fuck You" to all the douchebags that have managed to form an opinion about me as a person from posts on a BBS. You're a real crowd of losers. Continue in your mediocrity, hope to never have the displeasure of meeting you in person.

     

    For the rest of you, enjoy your climbing.

     

    Someone do me a huge favor: start a BBS that's pure climbing, not this bullshit. Maps, weather, topos, recent conditions, first ascents, and a route library, fuck the rest of this noise.

     

    -Necronomicon


  2. Losers!! It just goes to show that any kind of dipshit can boulder. I've never had this problem in the mountains, although, one time, these guys got on the route in front of us, so I filled my pack with rocks and beat him to death with it.


  3. Cracked: you're a stupid fucking idiot, no one cares about your opinions on anything.

     

    I went and saw The Wurst play one time, the singer came down to dance, got smashed in the mouth by yours truly, and went back on stage to sing with blood running out of his mouth and down his chin. That's Hardcore.

     

    If you really want to see someone who went to the edge, and beyond, check out GG Allin. NH native, proud to say, but one fucked up dude. Strip naked, beat himself in the face with the mircophone until he was a bloody mess, shit on stage, eat it, fling it at the audience, crowd would beat the shit out of him, cops would come, show's over in less than one song.


  4. I couldn't give less than a fuck whether people want to go to a show and beat the shit out of each other. What I find extremely amusing is Doolittle's holier-than-thou attitude that he's a better than everyone else because he did it.

     

    yellaf.gif

     

    I'm not better than anyone else, just you...bitch.


  5. If I cried every time I bailed off a climb, my face would be dissolved down to the bone by my acid tears.

     

    Not to be harsh, but you really need to chill the fuck out. It's not about what you did or didn't do, it's about the experience that you gained in the process. I'd rather fail and learn something, like "maybe I should bring a map next time", than succeed and learn nothing. I learned on the same route "Maybe I should go with a partner that's in shape next time" when he quit out after crossing the glacier. Or maybe you're happy crying into your hands?

     

    Good try though thumbs_up.gif It's a fun route in a great atmosphere.


  6. crackhead: you're the type of douche that I would take the greatest pleasure pummelling: totally weak, totally ignorant, afraid. And your sarcasm sucks. Haven't you learned yet that sarcasm and a text based BB do not mix.

     

    Our society glorifies violence all the time. Turn on your TV and scan the band, you'll find heaps of violence, and you can be a hero if you're violent enough, but most importantly if your violence is SANCTIONED, if it has SOCIETAL APPROVAL.

     

    People like you reject, devalue, and demean the Hardcore scene because it lacks our society's Seal of Approval. For instance, it's OK to go see Pearl Jam and bump into each other, slap and tickle, in the "mosh pit" (a phrase I loathe), but it's not OK to maul a Hair at Sick of it All. The latter, as far as your concerned, for a number of reasons, is too much, it's too beyond, it's wrong. The former is safe, clean, sterile, OK.

     

    But Harcore is the way for a segment of our society. The Hair is fine with it, or he wouldn't go to the show, and the Punk plays his role by giving the Hair what he wants/needs/deserves/whatever.

     

    I'd see people like you go to shows, and you could tell that they were in over their heads. They had the look of fear, eyes wide, mouth tight, but it was because they didn't understand what it was all about.

     

    It really wasn't violence. It was about music, and self-expression, and dance, and releasing your agression, frustration, and anger towards anything in a healthy way, and in a safe environment.

     

    Sure, some people took it too far, because they thought it was about "fighting", and that's what it looked like to the untrained eye. They couldn't see that my "pummelling" had a pattern to it, and that I had fluid motion, and that my fists swung to the music. But those poeple were brought into check real quick by the scene's mechanisms of self-management.

     

    You may come to a show looking for a fight, but I'm there to DANCE, and if you harshed my buzz, if you start to "fight", you would get shut down. Keep it up, get in someones face, small man, big mouth, and take it too far, and you'd get your ass kicked for real, and get shown the door.

     

    Sadly, crackfiend, you're too stupid to get it, so my words are really for the rest of you.

     

    The first time I shaved my head, it was before a Cro-Mags show. That crowd had a rep for being full of Skins that would FSU on anyone, and I was really afraid that I would die. It was my second show, and I was just an ignorant kid. But when I got to the show, I looked around to see Hairs, Punks, and Skins sharing the scene together. Looking back, I realize that most of my fear came from inside, a product of my own ignorance.

     

    Why are you afraid?


  7. At what speed would a person begin to ablate? Assume sea-level, and set the max speed to a velocity at which average skin temperature in the direction of travel is just below the pain threshold. Tha should be the new back country human velocity standard for skiers and mountain bikers, IMHO.


  8. How long does food stay in your system, on average?

     

    I was thinking, to figure it out, I could eat different types of colored sand with my food. When the blue sand comes out, that would be my breakfast, and when I shit blood and green sand, that would be the under-cooked carne asada burrito, for example. Discuss.


  9. And I don't feel the need to justify my actions in any way, to anyone, especially to you.

     

    yelrotflmao.gif So this explains why you've spent the last several pages explaining and justifying your self-loathing to everyone!

     

    No, this is my on-line "Confrontational Writing" class. No credits, but FREE.

     

    Oh, and fuck you too. I love myself. I started out by describing a DRI show that I went to, and now I'm trying to blot out ignorance, a sisyphisian task around here.

     

    I went to a Battle of the Bands once in Boston. We sat through three shitty bands, waiting for Sam Black Church to come on so that we could go mental on each other.

     

    While all these crappy posuer rock bands are playing, yuppies sipping their drinks and having a great time, the place is starting to fill up with Punks and Skins. When Sam Black Church comes on stage, the guitar player says: "I'd like to apologize to these two poeple right here."

     

    Standing right in front of the stage, sipping their drinks, having a great time on their date, are two yuppies, oblivious to the fact that they are surrounded by Punks and Skins frothing at the mouth to beat the shit out of each other.

     

    The band immediately starts playing, the place just fucking EXPLODES, and I can only imagine the pain and terror that those two dipshits must have felt. Later, the lead singer got his front teeth broken when a microphone hit him in the face.

     

    Sam Black Church, The Way We Were:

     

    If ignorance rules what you do

    Don't know things but fear them

    Don't be afraid to face the human inside

    It's evil, it's still you

     

    The old way is not the way

    The ancient truth is not literal today

    One way is the right one if it's truly yours

     

    Make peace with the beast inside

    It's only a monster of unquestioning eyes

    The world is not here to be abstained from

    It's meant to rage in

     

    You'll never see, as I have

    The way we were meant to be

    Don't make us fear own lustful dread

    and bring the wrath of God down on my head

     

    We censor ourselves as a nation

    Conceal the things we all want to be

    Subject ourselves to emotional depravtion

    and never face the blackest terror

    you true mind

     

    Make peace with the beast inside

    Don't be afraid to try

    Can you try, and let all the hate subside?

    And never look back on the way we were?

     

    It seems like a lot of you douchebags should take a listen. You might learn something.

     

    FSU, East Coast Hardcore. Never forget the Skinhead way of life! rockband.gifthe_finger.gif


  10. stinx, crackbaby, fariweather, and the rest of you puds: WTF do you know?

     

    You're the things that Punk despises the most: conformity, apathy, comfort. Weak sods that tow the line, no questions asked, telling me how I should live my life, judging me for the life I've lived.

     

    What would you have done if you'd have been in my shoes? You shouldn't even try to answer that question, and if you do, if you think that you can, you should take a long look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself who and what you really are.

     

    You're too weak to accept the fact that there are poeple in this word who can only see life as agony, yet you have the audacity to tell them to "get real", and you prescibe a life for them to live, a life that makes you happy. Who the fuck are you?

     

    So, I say to you: Fuck you, I'm Punk.

     

    Agnostic Front: Existence of Hate

    They told me when I was young that I would change

    What I once saw would become like everything else

    The same -

    The open eyes of youth would close down just to cracks

    I would - never again see the real world

    Just like the rest, I'd turn my back

    I told them once when I was young

    That it was too late for me to change

    I couldn't ignore the facts

    The reality that brought this incredible pain

     

    Scars within my flesh and soul

    Stayed just for show

    Seeing, I felt and saw things

    Others could never know

    They tell me now to turn my head

    So that I may rest at peace

    But ignoring the things that I know

    Would be living a life of deceit

    The perversion of love and the power of hate

    Lie deep inside my head

    I can't turn to ignorance -

    The life of the wordly blind


  11. Just as I suspected, a bunch of Mercer Island pussies, blonde dreads stuffed up into your rasta hats, driving dad's SUV with !Tchkung! on the CD player.

     

    "I like to 'mosh' in my flannel shirt and ripped jeans at the Soundgarden show, like I saw on TV one time. Oh, excuse me, I didn't mean to bump into you so hard."

     

    I came from a working-class background, where you actually have to WORK to get by. If you got out of high school without getting your girlfriend pregnant, and got a job sorting lumber or stocking groceries, you were a success. Meanwhile, you're mired in the Megalopolis, and you can't see out. Ignorance is rampant. Racism is rampant. People solved their problems with violence.

     

    Our towns had suicide epidemics, three kids, four kids, sometimes eight kids a year killing themselves because they could not see a way out. In the space of two years at my high school (300 kids), we had a kid hang himself in his closet, a kid shot himself in the chest with a shotgun, and a kid shot himself in the head in front of his freinds and family right in the center of my town after a four hour stand-off with the police. My friend Dennis drove his car into a tree at over a hundred miles an hour.

     

    Punk was a way out. I bought a Minor Threat album, and it changed my life. I started to listen to bands that could articulate the despair, started going to shows, went to the big city, and realized there was a whole world out there, and that I didn't have to become anything but who I wanted to be.

     

    Go to a show, get pounded to a pulp, pummel your friends, listen to your favorite bands. We didn't need drugs or alcohol, we had the scene. Go home, some drunk knucklehead wants to fuck with you, and you brush it off. You go your own way. It wasn't about the violence. Watch "Fight Club", and you'll get a sense of the spirit of the whole thing.

     

    For cracked, in the words of Ian MacKay:

     

    compete, compete, do it for the boys

    empty barrels make the most noise

    you're always on the move

    you've always got something to prove

     

    what the fuck are you fighting for?

    is it because you're five foot four?

    you better be happy with what you've got

    you 'll never get any more

     

    you laugh at a man when he tries

    you're trying to make up for your size

    to you life is a rivalry

    keep a step ahead of me

     

    small man, big mouth

     

    FSU, East Coast style, bitches. the_finger.gifthe_finger.gifthe_finger.gif


  12. cracked, you're a stupid little bitch. Go start a drum circle. You'd cry like a little girl if you looked through a window and only saw the shit I've lived through.

     

    When the Accused played at the Channel in Boston, a REAL riot broke out. The Skinheads went ballistic, and the band stopped playing and BEGGED the crowd to stop beating the fuck out of each other. One skin was wailing on his fellow man with a cane he had smuggled in by faking a limp. Thousands of dollars of damage to the club, cops, chaos.

     

    When Murphy's Law played, we rushed the stage, and the band played on while we beat the crap out of each other on and off the stage, with people climbing on top of the people on the stage and jumping off onto the people in the audience, who were still beating the crap out of each other.

     

    I saw six Skinheads simul-pummeling a hairbag at Slayer, with his head being beaten from 360 degrees. I saw a kid take a roundhouse kick to the temple from a skin in Doc Martens at a Sam Black Church show. If someone was crowd surfing, we'd bash into the people holding them in the air so they'd hit the floor.

     

    Have you ever heard of "Head Walking"? You'd get up on stage and literally walk off as far as you could on the heads of the people packed in at the front of the audience, until you invariably fucked up and fell on top of them and down to the concrete.

     

    I broke ribs doing flips off the stage and onto the floor when Gorilla Biscuits played. I've had my teeth punched through my lower lip. You'd fight the bouncers to get up on stage, and put your foot through the grill of the PA when you ran and dove off into the crowd, back flips, front flips, who cares if anyone catches you, knock a mircophone over for good measure. I literally vaulted over the back of one of the guitar players in Biohazard when he bent over in front of me during a bit of mayham. I ran and threw my hands on his back and VAULTED head over heels into the crowd.

     

    The first time I saw Agnostic Front, this Skin "Castle Neck", named after his tattoos, crouched on the edge of the stage and beat the face of anyone that dared to get near him. He ended up beating his girlfriend to death and killing himself.

     

    Your simple little mind reels at the reality of the situation not because you cannot comprehend why someone would do these things to someone else, but because of the thought of someone going to a show like this knowing they were about to get their ass kicked hard. You cannot grasp the despair that produces this kind of abuse/self-abuse.

     

    But the best part of the whole thing was that you could kick the shit out of someone, you could stand there on the edge of the pit and LITERALLY kick and punch people as hard as you could and know that they WANTED you to do it, and have them tell you later, after the show, when you shook their hand, that that was the best show they had ever been too.

     

    You're a soft pussy, gortboy. There's a reason why we called it "Hardcore". rockband.gif


  13. I saw DRI at the Livingroom in Providence Rhode Island in 1990. It was MADNESS.

     

    My first hardcore show, and the place was packed. The first band gets on stage and the crowd literally exploded. People are beating the shit out of each other, the sound board in the back was getting pushed off the table, skinheads pummelling longhairs, dude knocked unconscious, bleeding from his scalp with his eyes rolled back in his head while he's dragged to safety, stage diving, head walking, with people getting pushed, beaten, and kicked up the brick walls on the sides of the pit like water up the sides of a glass, and we're fighting the bouncers to get up on the stage. Total mayham. Then DRI comes on.

     

    If you've never been to a hardcore show back East, your mind is incapable of understanding the level of aggression and chaos that ensued. None of the flannel clad, bump into the guy next to you, sorry, excuse me, touch and tickle you find out here.

     

    Pummel the guy in front of you, closed fists to the face until he hits the ground or flees in pain, swing your fists like a cyclone of human destruction and beat away the rest of the crowd as they seek to destroy you. The band whipped the crowd into a frenzy like we were their puppets, and then they changed the tempo, the beat kicked in, and we "danced".

     

    You know the songs, and your ready for it, but when the band kicks it in, you're about to suffer, and anihilate, like never before.

     

    There's no escape. All your anger and aggression comes to the surfaces and you spend it on your fellow man, beating and kicking them to a pulp until you can take no more, until you have nothing more to give, and then you fight and grovel and cower your way to safety, if you can, or until your dragged away from the madness by the guy that beat and kicked you to the ground, as he upholds the code and pulls you out from under the trampling boots.

     

    I never saw the world the same way again, and I show shows that were even madder (Slayer, Agnostic Front, Sick Of It All, etc.), but DRI was the first.

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