The Rant
The Rant is the ancient Form of
Discordian
Discourse; it is the very essence of Erisian Enlightenment (also, an
alliterative allegory [when warranted]).
A good Rant is a truly wonderful thing; only a select few ever manage to get
their psychological boogie-boards properly aligned to catch the wave of the
Madness (which is the
Truth
without its Nutrasweetened carob coating) that flows from
Our Lady
(though every person who has ever lived has at least one Rant in them). When
it happens, though, you can almost feel the
pentaverse
warping like a Huey Lewis and the News record in a blast furnace.
Rants tend to occur at around 4 AM, when the mind has the approximate
consistency of taffy (this is important, because trying to Rant with a rigid
mind is like trying to tie a knot in a candy cane). The Rant usually starts
before the ranter knows what's hitting him, and subisdes whenever it does.
Usually, the ranter is then in need of a little lie down.
The power of the Rant comes from the fact that it manages to make sense without
being coherent (to steal a wonderful analogy from
Pope Icky Fundament,
a good Rant makes The Wall look like it has the linearity of a Matlock
episode). It is, at its finest, undeniably true nonsense which gives a
glimpse of the ultimate insanity of all reality. Occasionally, it's something
else entirely.
A Rant cares not one whit for logic, etiquette or, really, anything else.
However it manifests, though, you'll know it when you see it or, if you are
very, very fortunate, when it happens to you.
Here,
for your edification, is a really fine rant or
two.