:: Abrupt Forums ::

you’re right, whoever reads this, you’re right. and stay right.

holy roller

Mass mailings to Resident / Occupant / Boxholder destroys woodland habitat to provide paper, generates chemical pollution with the pulping and inking processes, and promotes ill considered consumption. These actions compromise the quality of the world we live in and endanger the health of future generations.

If you are concerned about these issues – or simply tired of being forced to receive junk mail and being forced to subsidize it through first class mail rate increases – here is a no risk action you can take which will:

1) Increase the Post Office junk mail costs in every respect in ways they cannot budget for or control.

2) Make the Post Office aware that the hundreds of millions of citizen / customers are more important than the hundreds of thousands of bulk mailers and their mercenary lobbyists.

Simply place an Orange Dot sticky over your mailing address and place the piece of junk mail in a convenient US Post Office mail collection box.

To promote this idea, discuss it with someone who you know would be interested. You may also wish to place an Orange Dot on your vehicle or clothing to help develop a sense of how many of us are out there.

Caution! Do not send a letter with this information through the Post Office mail system as this may activate obscure legal trip wires which could cause trouble for you and PLEASE do not Multi Level Marketing (MLM) relationship spam people or generate your own version of a mass mailing.

The Post Office is a cranky, unresponsive, Orwellian, monopoly bureaucracy and they will need time to figure out that the people who actually pay for the system should be served first.

Be patient. Have fun!

Here are a couple of links which will help you better understand how the Post Office does business.

There is no way the Post Office will allow you to be removed from (the) list!
http://www.ecofuture.org/jmusps.html

The Postal Service insists that first-class users are not being overcharged to subsidize Frederick’s of Hollywood and other advertisers. But according to one U.S.P.S. study, first-class mail provides 68 percent more revenue than its attributable cost, while second-class mail provides 2 percent less than its cost.[55] In the early 1970s, six internal Postal Service audits concluded that first-class users were being over-charged to subsidize other classes.[56] The chief administrative judge of the Postal Rate Commission concluded, “The Postal Service has become a tax-collecting agency collecting money from first-class mailers to distribute to other favored classes.”[57]
http://www.cato.org/pubs/pas/pa047.html

I just came across this website and i gotta say I can fully relate to the message abrupt.org has to spread. it seems as if Mr. Abrupt, you have lost the the youthful aggression to the opposing forces what you are trying accomplish. This is reasonable, as most everyone does in an age where one can look at a dog in the park, and believe it is just as knowledgeable and productive of its owner. Even so, your ideas have inspired me. I have never came across a website so relative to my own ideas, which is sad considering the extreme condition of humanities state of being. I just wanted to let you know that you are doing the right thing, more so than any modern day hero i’ve seen or heard of. Thank ya.

     Waters recede
     The gasping fish
     The ionized star

In Mexico a baby’s crying, crying
In Calcutta the cattle step and groan
And north far off the point of Ellesmere Island
A distant thud — a distant thud, alone.

You: tick-tock when the algae starts to blooming
Shave a minute off the sentence handed down
Put a staple in the ear of your beloved
So you’ll recognize her when she comes around

Tick-tock-tick the windows are all closing
You can feel it in your dreams and in your trips
Something creeping up with parlor tricks and flowers
Its bony grin is pressed against your lips

In countries which your children never heard of
The outbreak starts. It shudders off its sleep.
Ten thousand years of gentle irritation
It’s time now for the shearing of the sheep.

What was rich and alive will become flat.
What was only jelly shall stand and walk.
Be ready to ride that wave when it comes.
But how can you be ready?
You are that wave.

Seven years ago I enjoyed and was greatly influenced by your writings Mr Abrupt. Evolution as the soft pink tip of a march larger process, the mushroom provided carnival and chaos trust love advice… this and more still rustle my atoms. At the time I send you a link to my website, ubis, which you nodded at. As nothing seemed to be added to your website, and as the thing of it is to move on, I stopped returning. I see you’re still writing, and I am eager to see what you’ve been experiencing and thinking. I’ll return here with comments later. In the meantime, an invitation and a request. The invitation is to my new website - www.natureculturenothing.co.uk - and the request is somewhere on my site I have a slightly modified version of your history is ending poster - can I leave it there, or would you like me to remove it? I’d also like to upload your break your chains poster one day. I shall delve into your printed heart later. Glad you’re still here,

Darren

I do battle with the ego
It parries every thrust
Absorbing all my anger
In orange plumes of rust

The ego is a monster
It lashes out in fear
I relax; it plunges through me
And we simply disappear

Ash is in the air
All the little children
are leaving.
Look around you:
the first great migration’s
begun.

There was never a promise
– no rainbow from God –
that we would die in a warm feather bed.
All the businessmen melt,
and the generals huddle.
They’re at their best when the meat begins to boil.

A woman at the spaceport
sniffs the air and spits.
The west wind is coughing pine
muck of old uprooted forests,
tossing the ash like the pieces of hornets.
Then the asphalt heaves,
and the monkeys, pissing, howl!
Taut faces, white teeth,
fist so tight on a leaf that it rattles.

This is not another Ice Age.
Plant your feet — you can feel it all spinning.
This is the doorway
the vortex through the Human.
Something wafts above the stinking hordes,
survives.

Great green stalk of life
Kindly deigns to coexist
With us pink humans