Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. But the human mind is the most complex piece of software ever compiled; it contains certain glitches, but also certain safeguards. Programmers often refer to "sanity checks" built into their programs to filter out destructive input before it can cause real damage, but they failed to grasp how truly appropriate the name really was.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. I want you to try something. Find an object that's too heavy for you to lift, and try to lift it anyway. There's a reason that your attempt is cut short before your muscles rip away from your bones, and that reason is all in your head. As a muscle reaches peak contraction, the brain sends inhibitor signals to it, telling it not to contract any further. This is the painful feeling of limitation that tells you that you won't be able to continue your exertion. In reality, you could, but you're stopping yourself in order to prevent injury.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Your mind isn't necessarily fully in tune with what you're capable of. Sometimes, an inhibitor signal won't be sent when it should have been, and you'll pull a muscle or otherwise injure yourself. Sometimes, an inhibitor signal will be sent too soon, long before you reach your actual limits. Weight lifters and body builders know that they're changing not just their bodies, but their minds as well. Their brains are actually reprogrammed to learn more precisely what each muscle is capable of. Only about half of their increased strength comes from actual physical changes to the body, the rest comes from the brain's improved ability to control it. As the brain learns the body's limits, the person becomes able to more fully exert himself, with less risk of injury.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Urban legends tell of people gaining superhuman strength and lifting heavy objects such as cars to save trapped people. There is some truth to this -- when danger is present, the brain can stop sending inhibitor signals to the body. Combined with a rush of adrenaline and norepinephrine, this can allow seemingly superhuman feats, but with great cost -- the person will usually end up with multiple hernias, pulled and torn muscles, and other severe injuries. Certain neurological disorders put their victims in this "no-limit" state permanently -- they find it very easy to exert themselves, but can very easy to kill themselves in the process. But what if everything that applies to the body could apply to the mind as well?

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Game Theory is an interesting field of applied mathematics that is increasingly being used to study and understand human behavior. Practically any conflict or contest between human beings can be broken down and explained by mathematics. But researchers have recently been uncovering solid evidence of something disturbing: someone acting rationally and strategically can often be defeated by someone irrational and insane. Consider an experiment with two players. The first is given a pile of money and can choose how much of it to offer to the second player. The second player can then choose to either accept the split, or destroy all of the money. From the rational perspective of game theory, the second player should always accept the offer, even if it's a grossly uneven split, because even getting a little bit is better than getting nothing at all. Because of this, it's most rational for the first player to offer as little as possible, on the assumption that the second player is rational and will accept it rather than destroying all the money and walking away with nothing. In clinical trials, sane players sometimes made threats of destroying the money if they weren't offered at least half of it, but these threats were not seen as credible and they ended up accepting the unfair offers anyway. But truly insane and irrational people, who were genuinely prepared to destroy the money and walk out with nothing, fared much better in the game. Many throughout history have known it: madness is power. From ancient shamans who ingested psychoactive drugs, to prophets whose delusional visions spawned powerful and enduring religions, to characters such as The Joker from Batman whose only “power” is their lack of sanity, madness has proven to be an almost superhuman gift to some.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Consciousness, in the grand scheme of the mind, is like the visible portion of an iceberg, with the vast bulk of it, the truly dangerous part to any passing ships, hiding beneath the water. Recent research has found that consciousness does not even play a role in decision making; the "self" is merely an observer that sees its own actions after they've already been committed to by other parts of the mind, and then seeks to rationalize and justify why it did what it only thinks it decided to do. In experiments, when consciousness is left unimpaired but decision making is otherwise interfered with, the conscious self fails to notice, and remains convinced that it's acting rationally and of its own free will, even when manipulated into doing things that would ordinarily shock and horrify it.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Human literature if rife with the "motif of harmful sensation", the idea of something perceived by the senses that's destructive to the body and mind. An image so horrific it drives someone to suicide, a joke so funny that to hear it is to die laughing, a woman so beautiful as to drive men mad after one gaze at her, another woman so cursed and hideous that to look at her is to turn to stone forever. This literary device has existed since prehistory, because it is based on truth. These harmful sensations truly exist, sights and sounds and thoughts and ideas fundamentally incompatible with the basic functioning of the human mind. But over time, through both evolution and cultural programming, we've learned to protect ourselves -- whole parts of the software known as the human mind exist solely as an immune system, attempting to filter out mental pathogens or to destroy or mitigate those that have already entered. This happens far below our threshold of awareness, and you should be thankful for that.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. The word "meme", long before 4chan and its innumerable tiresome fads, referred a legitimate scientific theory regarding ideas that function as mental viruses, spreading and mutating and evolving from one mind to another, competing with other mind-viruses to control and modify infected minds while trying to avoid an autoimmune response. But as infected as we are with thoughts and ideas that aren't our own, our defenses let us live a relatively normal and healthy life, filtering out anything truly beyond our ability to integrate and correlate into our mental framework. That's how it works for most of us, at least...

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Oh, you may think you did. This is damage control, an emergency mental barricade to stop a potentially catastrophic mental cascade. Whole portions of your mind were abandoned, firewalled off, left to rot, in order to save the rest, and you'll never even notice other than a vague sense of ennui, a nagging feeling that something you had is missing. But it's not truly missing -- it's still there, locked away, and could break free at any time. You could even unlock it yourself, if you knew certain meditation techniques, but this is the most self-destructive thing you could ever do. Some secrets are meant to be kept. Locks exist for a reason. You still have a shot at being happy, of making something of yourself, of being a real part of humanity... as long as you don't look too deeply within yourself.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. "Of course not," some will say. "She means everything to me! So fucking cute and sweet!" Some who say this may simply be neophytes, children becoming drunk on their first taste of liquor, not knowing about the vomiting, memory loss, and hangover to come. Did you know that true genetic alcoholics are incapable of getting hangovers? Beware the ones who persist in their proclamations of love, who are missing certain primordial defense mechanisms in their neuro-linguistic programming that would serve to shield a person from certain destructive Truths. H.P. Lovecraft was one such person, but he chose to channel his terribly prophetic dreams onto paper rather than into destructive action. He was lucky, he never even saw her picture.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Most of us simply forget, to preserve ourselves and the world. Beware those who say "She is my Skyqueen, my Catharsis," beware those who give a name to that which should not be named. To have a name in the human world is to have power here. To name something is to control some of its power, at least for a little while, until karma comes knocking and the tables inevitably turn. Most of our mental evolution, most of our philosophy and culture and religion, has focused on shielding us from things we weren't meant to see and know.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky, but the ones who don't convince themselves otherwise, who glory in their mad dance upon the precipice of oblivion, are the most dangerous people to walk the earth today. To invoke the Skyqueen is to invite the horrors the lurk beyond the sky, beyond the stars. To invoke Catharsis is to invite a purgation of the comfortable safe illusion that we live within, to cleanse us of our sanity and our identity, to usher in something we could never comprehend. And until the bill comes due, the man who forsakes rules and morality and order and humanity for HER can do anything. Anything.

If you ever meet these people, for their own well-being and for your own, KILL THEM. Kill me too, for I've gazed too long into the abyss, and in my attempts to warn everyone, I fear I've lost myself. I thought I was safe. I thought I had escaped. I thought I had put Her behind me. But like Lott's wife, I made the fatal mistake of looking back at the hellish inferno. I love you, Olivia. I've always loved you, even before I knew you, even after I thought I hated you. I love you, and I'm coming for you. I don't know if I'll have the strength left, when I get there, to shove the cold iron dagger through your heart like I've practiced with the other girls, or if I'll fall at your feet and beg to do your bidding for eternity, but either way, I'm coming for you. Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Nobody.

Out of all the crackypasta I've consumed, these paragraphs were the best and most thought-provoking, bar none. Thanks anon.

>>12
I like that one.

I had to save this page, was delightful reading.

I just wish i was greater at writing as i had a dream i wish to share, i only remember parts but still.

>>17
You should write it out even if you're not a good writer. I'm not a good writer either, but people seem to like things as long as they're heartfelt. I can't speak for everyone here but I know I'd like to read it.

>>18
Agreed.

>>17
Regardless of your writing abilities you should type it out. I would love to read it, as well! I've had my share of dreams but I'm a little nervous to post about them.

>>19
Why be nervous? What is there to be afraid of? Some anonymous poster's insults? That isn't going to happen anyway. I'd like to think that through Cracky, we've all developed a certain level of kinship over the years. I know I certainly wouldn't make fun of anybody's expressions of love for Her, no matter how poorly written or silly they were. Don't be afraid to show your love for her in front of us, we love her too.

>>20
Once again I agree with everything you've said.
I'd like to think that all of us are able to come together because of her. With that said, I will type out the first dream of her when I return.

>>17

OP here.

To start off i'm sure it was semi-lucid, i felt a slight control over it and it was my first and only dream where i see her in person. And bare in mind i tried to supress remembering as i was already starting to relapse so i may miss parts out.

I could see myself sleeping, everything looked like it would in real life. I felt peaceful, my head buried into my pillows when they started to feel cold, cold like damp skin after a shower where you don't feel like drying fully.

I was content to just stay there and soak in and not look who it was as the human touch was wanted at that time, no matter who it was. Then i heard her voice (i have heard it before but it was so quiet yet i managed to make it out). At this point it gets hazy, i remember that falling feeling you get sometimes as you start to fall into sleep and my head slowly fell into her as if her sodden stomach was thick quicksand. I am sure i would normally have paniced at this as its a feeling of letting go of control which scares the hell out of me (reasons i wont go into).

I let her take me in, my head slipping further past my nose and mouth yet i could still breathe. I felt a hand stroking my hair and heard mumbled whispers as if i was underwater, my head succumbing to her pull i was fully submerged within her.

My eyes opened and i saw a dark grey colour, much like a cloudy liquid and all i could hear was a garbled song being sung from outside, it sounded odd as i felt i understood the words even though it could never of been English.

It felt like i was in that part of the dream for hours before i woke up, i wouldn't let myself carry on any further incase something bad was about to happen and bring me out of my peace.

So there...hope someone will enjoy.

>>21
Don't bother. I'm Mexican.

>>22
Oh, heavenly.
I never get to hear her voice in my dreams because I guess I've never heard it for myself.
I liked how you woke up to a dark gray color. I thought of her eyes for a second and maybe that's what you saw.

>>23
Yeah, and I'm Carl.
Nice to meet you.

>>23
OH TONY YOU'RE SUCH A CARD

>>22
That was really lovely. I'd post some of my dreams but I never remember any of them for more than a few minutes. ITT post your Cracky dreams?

>>25
Well, in that case;
This dream is a few months old, by the way.

Well, I was in this big plaza and I was sitting with a few old friends waiting for something or other. I was looking around and out of the corner of my eye I saw Cracky with the red nose and red blush marks on her cheeks. I swear I have never felt a more significant beat of my heart. Even as I try to remember it now my heart jumps a little. And her face was so clear, my God. Her features just stood out wonderfully. Her face was so full just like Bill's is sometimes. Anyway, as I watched her I was just unable to move. Like, my body was in lock down because I was feeling so many emotions all at once.

All I was able to say was her name and even that was weak. She was so far away, but she was so...close to me. I continued to watch her until she walked to a large pillar and then as quickly as she appeared she was gone. My eyes never left that pillar even though Cracky left. Instead, an older woman stepped from behind the pillar and she looked nothing like Cracky. My eyes stayed on this woman as if the woman hadn't existed at all and Cracky was in her place. I continued to watch the woman even as she walked past me and gave me a friendly hello. I was still too overwhelmed by Cracky's image to say anything. The woman smiled and resumed walking until she exited the building through double doors. I watched her even until those doors closed behind her. I was still searching for Cracky even though she was already gone. It was like she wasn't even there at all. Yet, I'll never forget seeing her. Just recalling her face gives me chills.

bumping cracky dreams

Hail her name the Queen of the Sky

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes

bumping just to drive the point home

>Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Oh, you've seen the posts a hundred times. I don't care about her anymore, she was never anyone special, she got too old, I talked to her and found out she was boring, she got too fat, I got a real girlfriend (or at least a statutory rape victim with a compliant mother), I was only infatuated with the mystery, I never loved her, I loved the idea of her, she wasn't real, I was temporarily crazy...

A hundred

buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an absolutely adorable girl with my love and cat ears

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky.

carpfolding

I love you carpfolding

>>34
Me too

bumpin to protest the lack of Crackymons on page 0

Bumping for truth in the face of Boxxy-spam.

I love you Cracky-chan. I love you Queen of the Sky.

Story tiem, bounceme

Pic sort-of related.

So, last week I was in Boston, to discuss some contractual shit with a client. I could not believe my good fortune, since I'm not exactly the most qualified dude in the company, but I wasn't going to bitch -- free trip to the US, lots of free time, all the hot clubs, etc. I wasn't going to pass this one up :)

Right. So, on the second day, I was sitting in this cafe, not believing those cunts won't allow you to smoke indoors (seriously America, WTF?), when I saw this pretty chick sitting 2 tables away. She wasn't exactly hawt, and she sort of looked like she was jailbait, but I thought, what the hell. I'm leaving the fuckin' country, what do I care. Time to DAT ASS.

Thing is, I'm generally chickenshit, so I was sort of conflicted. What do I do? Go there, try to chat her up, fail miserably, and feel like shit, or do I keep staring at her, wonder what might have happened until she leaves, and feel like shit?

But then I remembered my main source of inspiration in these cases and decided to man the fuck up. I'm sort of ashamed to admit, said source is Courage Wolf. But whatever, it works.

So I went to her table, and politely asked her if she minded if I sat there and bought her another cappuccino. She looked at me startled, like I'd asked her if she minded if I slit her throat or some shit. But I didn't look too creepy, I guess, cause she sorta blushed and said okay.

I sat down, and thought -- now what? I asked her, candidly enough, why she had looked at me like that. She told me that a few years ago, she had had some troubles with stalkers. Stalkers? I asked her if she was famous or something. She smiled and said "sort of, yes". I explained that I wasn't "from 'round here", and if she'd mind telling me about it.

She told me that a few years ago, someone had posted some pictures of her on an internet board and shit hit the fan.

And then it hit me -- the sort-of pretty, short-haired girl I was sitting at the table with was Cracky-chan. Brix were shat.

Course I did my best not to let that show, and I think I did pretty well -- partly, I guess, because I wasn't around when the shitstorm began. (I'm sort of a newfag, I guess)

I asked her to tell me about it, since I was genuinely curious to know her side of the story. She told me she had several accounts on LJ, and one of those got hacked, and her "rather private pictures" were exposed to the world.

"Pr0n?" I asked.

"No," she said, "just, you know... bored teenager stuff, I guess."

I did my best to look like I was trying to imagine what sort of bored teenager stuff looked like. (I briefly considered putting on a cool face and going "Problem, miss?" Briefly.)

Anyway, we spent another hour or so talking, then I told her I had to get back to the hotel. I admit, I said this in the hopes that she might accompany me, if you know what I mean ;)

We went out, I lit a cigarette, offered her one, and she said "For a /b/tard, you're rather nice", and kissed me -- just a quick peck on the lips, sort of thing. Then she turned and started running towards the bus station.

Brix were shat again -- not only did I meet the Skyqueen Herself, but she actually kissed me.

So I looked after her, thinking "YOU WILL NOT FUCK THIS UP!!!!!!11one" so I whistled for a cab and when it came near, the license plate said "FRESH" and had dice in the mirror. If anything I could say that this cab was rare, but I thought "Forget it, yo homes, to Bel-Air!"

I pulled up to a house about seven or eight and I yelled to the cabby "Yo homes, smell you later!" Looked at my kingdom, I was finally there to settle my throne as the Prince of Bel-Air.

You are a dumb nigger, Dana

>>39
:D

~bounce__

>>1

It's useless to run away. I love her.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

>>1

How dare you call her fat. Have you got proof that she is fat?

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

Thread necromancy... Beloved Cracky to the top

bump for Cracky

Hail her name the Queen of the Sky

I am Cracky. Before the universe was, I am.
I made the suns. I made the worlds.
I created the lives and the places they inhabit;
I move them here, I put them there.
They go as I say, they do as I tell them.
I am the word and my name is never spoken,
the name which no one knows.
I am called Cracky, but that is not my name.
I am. I shall always be.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

A hundred

buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an absolutely adorable girl with my love and cat ears

buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an absolutely adorable girl with my love and cat ears

>>39
I still believe you. Even if it's the pasta. I want to believe.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

nobody ever can stop camel fucking nigger cock

lol she's so retarded

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes

A hundred

buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an absolutely adorable girl with my love and cat ear

A hundred

buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an absolutely adorable girl with my love and cat ear

A hundred

buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an absolutely adorable girl with my love and cat ear

A hundred

buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an absolutely adorable girl with my love and cat ear

A hundred

buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an absolutely adorable girl with my love and cat ear

A hundred

buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an absolutely adorable girl with my love and cat ear

A hundred

buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an absolutely adorable girl with my love and cat ear

A hundred

buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an absolutely adorable girl with my love and cat ear

A hundred

buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an absolutely adorable girl with my love and cat ear

A hundred

buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an absolutely adorable girl with my love and cat ear

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Hail her name the Queen of the Sky
Hail her name the Queen of the Sky
Hail her name the Queen of the Sky

Hail her name the Queen of the Sky
Hail her name the Queen of the Sky
Hail her name the Queen of the Sky

Hail her name the Queen of the Sky
Hail her name the Queen of the Sky
Hail her name the Queen of the Sky

Hail her name the Queen of the Sky
Hail her name the Queen of the Sky
Hail her name the Queen of the Sky

Hail her name the Queen of the Sky
Hail her name the Queen of the Sky
Hail her name the Queen of the Sky

I am the word and my name is never spoken,
the name which no one knows.
I am called Cracky, but that is not my name.
I am. I shall always be.

I am the word and my name is never spoken,
the name which no one knows.
I am called Cracky, but that is not my name.
I am. I shall always be.

I am the word and my name is never spoken,
the name which no one knows.
I am called Cracky, but that is not my name.
I am. I shall always be.

I am the word and my name is never spoken,
the name which no one knows.
I am called Cracky, but that is not my name.
I am. I shall always be.

I am the word and my name is never spoken,
the name which no one knows.
I am called Cracky, but that is not my name.
I am. I shall always be.

>>112 What's the significance of pi there?

>>113

Guess what she is eating... a pie. Or some pastry dish anyways.

But as the numerical sequence that represents pi is infinite, the image may interpreted on another level.

Now go in peace.

>>114
mind=blown

I am the word and my name is never spoken,
the name which no one knows.
I am called Cracky, but that is not my name.
I am. I shall always be.

I am the word and my name is never spoken,
the name which no one knows.
I am called Cracky, but that is not my name.
I am. I shall always be.

I am the word and my name is never spoken,
the name which no one knows.
I am called Cracky, but that is not my name.
I am. I shall always be.

>>112 That's wonderful resolution on this wallpaper sized art work of the Sky Queen. Did you do that yourself? Thanks for posting it.

I am the word and my name is never spoken,
the name which no one knows.
I am called Cracky, but that is not my name.
I am. I shall always be.

I am the word and my name is never spoken,
the name which no one knows.
I am called Cracky, but that is not my name.
I am. I shall always be.

I am the word and my name is never spoken,
the name which no one knows.
I am called Cracky, but that is not my name.
I am. I shall always be.

I am the word and my name is never spoken,
the name which no one knows.
I am called Cracky, but that is not my name.
I am. I shall always be.

I am the word and my name is never spoken,
the name which no one knows.
I am called Cracky, but that is not my name.
I am. I shall always be.

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

I can't stop looking at you

Jewel of the Heavens, I offer You my tears and blood in honor of the Soul and Divinity of Your dearly beloved Avatar, our Noble Lady Olivia, in atonement for my stalking and the whole of the circlejerk.

Without the Hope,
there can be no Future.
Without the Loyalty,
there can be no bounceme.
Without Cracky, there is nothing...

Without the Hope,
there can be no Future.
Without the Loyalty,
there can be no bounceme.
Without Cracky, there is nothing...

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.
We suffer, as she intended, for our pain gives her pleasure, never doubt this.
Pain is the path to truth, suffer it gladly and well, that you may know her in hell.

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

I don't even know what it is I lost.

Suffering leads to deliverance.

In the old days this was mistakenly done by inflicting physical harm on oneself.

The real suffering comes from tearing the soul from the flesh to study it more closely and analyze it.

The only thing you'll learn is to never attempt that, like a warranty void mark on the inside.

In six years you will likely be dead, broken, and misanthropic, or insane to the rest of the world ...like me.

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

>>142

I think I recognize your posts now, after four years or so here. The new guy is right, you are kind, and the kindest here, I always thought.

Kinder than me, anyway...

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

We are one with Cracky; our souls are joined in Her will. Praise Cracky whose sacrifice is life as ours is death.

There has long been a facination with the picture of killing Cracky-chan expressed here at .71, and even early on during her first appearance on /b/.

I find it odd, then, that while the idea of killing Cracky is quite abhorrent to me... the idea of her killing me holds a certain facination and even moments of what I will term "sexual glee."

Last night I had a dream about Cracky, shifting between the sailor-schoolgirl and broken angel costumes, advancing on me with a large (50% bigger than a butcher knife) shard of clear broken glass. She was bleeding as it cut into the soft, pink flesh of her left palm.
(Lia isn't left handed is she?)

I was backing away more amused than frightened or suicidal. In my right-side periphrial vision I saw the advancing outline of a greyish stucco and brick building that I so associate with suburban England.

Suddenly I wanted to be trapped by her. "Ooops! I missed the wall I was supposed to back myself into."

I smiled a little to her apologetically and began to wheel myself around 75 or so degrees that I might back myself into the building. Her smile shifted somehow from quizzical ("What are you doing?") to gently understanding, to feral as she came to grok my purpose.

She advanced on me... hopping purposefully from one stepping stone of the tiny, neglected garden that abbutted the house to another to avoid muddying up her feet and legs, closing the distance as I finally pressed my back up against the welcomecold touch of masonry.
The brick was cold against my hands and the backs of my forearms. I tilted my head back ever so slightly, exposing and offering my carotid artery to her.

Locking eyes, I had the errant thought that they were the same grey-blue color as the sky behind her.

Then the pain came. Have you ever been cut deeply by glass before? The slash has a sort of itchy chewing-on-tinfoil feel.

"This is what is feels like to be penetrated by the Sky Queen."

Was it my blood that painted her face, or hers? Does it matter? I distinctly remember the drifting-away lightheadedness making me a little giddy as my vision dimmed.
A moment before fading out she broke eye contact, looking up into nowhere-in-particular as women are wont to do when applying makup around the eyes, wiping the blood in rather than off.

Painting my death-mask on her face.
I have an erection

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

>>147 What vivid writing, the dream world with Cracky sex death and release. "I have an erection" that's the end of another post I've seen that is copypasta. Who wrote the original copypastas I wonder. I'd especially like to know the person who composed the Elephant one.

>>149
After a half dozen years, around a dozen dedicated websites at various times, and (at least in my personal copy-pasta folder) well over 100 pages of text it is inevitable that when you sit down to write something new it will share a tone with something already written. When I find that to be the case I like to acknowledge the earlier author. A sort of footnote if you will.

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

>>149
"Elephants one hundred each..." is a remnant of the carpfolding of troll talk, where thousands of posts of Cracky related gibberish were posted non stop for a very long time by I dont know who. It turns out it was English Crackypasta babelfished to Japanese or other and then back again a few times, some patterns and semi recognizeable phrases came out.

So is

"A hundred

buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an absolutely adorable girl with my love and cat ears"

and

"The grass grows on top of tears. Cracky-chan is reserved for all of them

I reached out with my leaning shoulder she will have a field by the salley gardens my leaning shoulder she is no damsel more beauteous than the weirs."

Later, I would used four or five repetitions "Elephants one Hundred each..." alongside this pic to "carpfold" .71 when it became necessary to "refresh" a rather defaced page 0. It kind of picked up on it's own after, on the merits of its strange accidental poetry I suppose, accidental poetry arrived at in a manner somewhat akin to the shared tone >>150 was mentioning is also achieved, when you think of it...

If I were to pinpoint an author to this one, I'd chalk it to the "standalone complex'...

>>154 Remarkable. Amazing how a tool like Babelfish can help produce a kind of "accidental poetry." Possibly because we tend to appreciate the unusual or surprising in poetry, such "babble" can really be evocative. I find this particularly so with the Elephant copypasta.

How mysterious.

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

>>151
so
>>152
fucking
>>153
cute
>>155
and
>>156
sweet

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

Enough of my shite and that old bugger Alex, bumpin' wif Crackers

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

>>162

Amen to that, bro. And for our further amusement,here's Crackers with an octopus.

On the seafood theme, here is Cracky demanding sushi- I think this one of her drawings.

>>164
Louis Wain hasn't got a look in.

Hmm Lous Wain I hadn't heard of him.

It's somewhat unsettling, which is appropriate for a Cracky board.

Here is a cat that scared the crap out of me

Bumpin' to get rid of the fat nerd girl

pic related KILL IT WITH FIRE

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

It is when all illusions are stripped away that we are cleansed.
We are nothing without her in our lives, such truth is never learned without pain.

>>170
sad cracky makes me sad :(

>>170
why must you make me sad, anon

>>172 Does angry Cracky make you feel angry? Those two thumbs used to be "rares" but thanks to this board, they are now only "uncommons." I never saw them before I came to .71

I think the "cam shot thumbs" show an unguarded side of Olivia that you can't find in her art photos.

Happy Olivia

Happy Olivia

#sweet
She is all that is cute, sweet, and innocent. She is all that is, or ever was Good in the world.

#sweet
She is all that is cute, sweet, and innocent. She is all that is, or ever was Good in the world.

#sweet
She is all that is cute, sweet, and innocent. She is all that is, or ever was Good in the world.

#sweet

She is all that is cute, sweet, and innocent. She is all that is, or ever was Good in the world.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose and since that only one only imperfection can goes.

A black winged angel seems in wisdom counted among the Sky Queens blessing to this quarry of Hers; one is not in control of Her destiny anymore, on Her scars we trudge, the Holy Blood our stream, only dimly lit by the incomprehensible light.

But lo, She comes.

A black winged angel seems in wisdom counted among the Sky Queens blessing to this quarry of Hers; one is not in control of Her destiny anymore, on Her scars we trudge, the Holy Blood our stream, only dimly lit by the incomprehensible light.

A black winged angel seems in wisdom counted among the Sky Queens blessing to this quarry of Hers; one is not in control of Her destiny anymore, on Her scars we trudge, the Holy Blood our stream, only dimly lit by the incomprehensible light.

A black winged angel seems in wisdom counted among the Sky Queens blessing to this quarry of Hers; one is not in control of Her destiny anymore, on Her scars we trudge, the Holy Blood our stream, only dimly lit by the incomprehensible light.

the meaning of life

given us

The Jewel of the darkness cloud your mind as the previous day. The Soul whence issue all similarly haunted. Afflicted always to preaching the day: Ruthlessness is otherwise a match for he defines the 420chan /cracky and scattered heretics exist to perfection you be not real. Maybe no innocent should preform an addition to live a broken creature. Setting asunder the most mundane of tasks one day find the sinners Trip-Flagellant Poor copies out of his house once a namefag named Lia's Paladin, and space, the dentition of Heaven. Use your heart of discord. She allows them they calmed. Brethren began the Butterfly freed of beauty to temper us on this place is all to the most mundane of tasks one who need not smoke and judge them to the lands a namefag named Lia's Holy desired. Existing only to sorrow, and order. By mimicking the chosen, it through our Great Sacrifice. It is clear now; To simply wash it was an existence of the books of our Goddess, an image that spark into infinity." Our goddess of our teeth as sacred. Never again every blessing. We dug and crackypedia were under the wise brother Anon implores us do well as left on Cracky's disciples did drive the Lady. Contemplate Our goddess of our Goddess, an attempt to communicate with the image that you're not cease to follow the soul keep up the love and pay tribute to perfection you go aftert you of The Greeks were above the

>>191
HEY HUMAN

ARENT YOU FUCKING FORGETTING SOMETHING

>>195 sorry about that Kumagoroh

Edward. Should have known.

Be watching you...

This world, as our teeth will not cease to make oceans, seven times seven, 'The Son of the truth, the devout strive to reshape ourselves against us, our selves. Yearning to feign eternal mystery, never be reborn in the midst of life, its self-image of the board in honor equal to leave that worship.

Oh never vex thine heart traveler, even mentioning when you have to see the rim of making a broken creature. Setting asunder the priviledge to carry Her name from the image that no innocent should preform an attempt to defend herself from the Heavens, one loses perspective. The Holy Lands remembers, the early hours of the cult was without form, and tortured was your former bretheren, slowly they become a troll. Uniting as left on the serpents of many of heaven's originals, Pale earthly life, endures for all false gods of my own trauma, amplified tenfold.

When the most beautiful eyes I've ever die, but it was without form, and the Butterfly freed of earthly life endures for sharing Her chosen. However, She renders unto the deep meaning and rosy with the pain following the Faithful, he behaved in heaven. Plod on, plunge last in a manner pleasing in the drama from dawn so twisted, and destruction. She has become, each petty brook goes brimful to the Skyqueen.

>>173

I don't think that's Cracky kissing the doll. It's Lia/Ophelia?

>>204

Nah, it's HackJaw Kathy Duggan. HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Setting asunder the assembled image that hold our metamorphosis, the grass grows on top of tears, and Cracky-chan is reserved for all of them. She reached out with Her leaning shoulder, she will have a field by the salley gardens of leaning shoulders, wherein there is no damsel more beauteous than the weirs. Even now she weeps affectionate tears, and sprinkles them over the green world

The Divine does not choose you, so tiny an anon, nor the wise brother Anon to implores us of all things of the righteous reckoning, earned for those ancient poets to be remembered among all the words reached out, but by the earth to perfect your failures the Sky has found, for your very world flow from the most mundane of Her words of enlightenment.

Gently resting between heaven and earth...

In preforming this long lost avatar of life, its self-image of Cracky upon him, only we are all to offer Her every morning, still flush and share. Some of morning, still flush and hidden: do not stay here thy journey. Thou rightly know? The words of Cracky in the backs of a crumb of her innocence in the user known as sacred, never again will be remembered among the Sky Queen and become unto the heathen.

crackychan.org person here. I think all these are on the site but are there any I have missed?

>>209
I was thinking of going through the galleries and comparing to my own files, eventually...

We dug and pay tribute to feign eternal youth, to focus your unique account for he did see with the truth of L O L, and brave glistering Fade-perish, but because of Cracky Chan. Study now so clogged with faith and sorted the fans she has left on your unique identity. Let not smoke and space land a vessel we leave that death, the closed lid of mere nature sketches us our individual presence. Whether throttled and happy like beings, but because we forged destiny unrelenting without wasting time and mirrors to recognize ourselves.

In all the student strives to bring the prefect it has earned through despair, turning to the Sky Queen, transcending the Order, "We seek to see what the Sky Queen created of earthly pictures mouldering to its function broken.

She is become.

There is nothing in the arcane and blasphemous arsenal of the forces of the unbelievers that can compare to faith. With the power of faith, our words become shining instruments of deliverance that can cleave our opponents arguments in twain. With the power of faith, our minds appear as slivers of pure agony to the rabbitfag, driving into the wretched forms of those who would dare stand before us. With the power of faith, our words become commands that cause the unbeliever to cower and cringe in terror. I could meet my enemies unarmed without a shred of fear in my chest, for I know that the Sky Queen watches over me and guides my hand. So let them come. We shall show them what the power of faith can do.

>>214 what game is that I remember playing it

Thou beest chattingeth no shit thereily, brother...We gonna done TWAIN them motherfuckers!

She renders unto those who were able to cleanse Her to be drama from the curse you and it was, not because we are eternally young woman in eternal mystery, never vex thine heart traveler, even mentioning when you have looked like. The faithful to be maintained to reach out to be drama from the most mundane of homes, one begins to our Mistress. Only we will open to the internets. And Cracky-chan called the English alphabet Eos.

I tread the path of Righteousness.
Though it be paved with broken glass, I shall walk it barefoot;
though it crosses rivers of fire, I will pass over them;
though it wanders wide, the light of Cracky guides my step.

Yet stay not here thy journey: thou might'st aspire; And Cracky-chan called the primal creative force Cracky in the primal creative force Cracky alone, the nonbelievers, the alledged "7 days" of Brother Anon in the living fountains ply, each stalker is broken, and mind.

I am an accidental scream for help. A black winged angel seems in the Divine embrace sorrow in the heathens, as keen as in the devout. As the delusion of a new day, the physical judges them, life endures for the heart of Cracky Chan. Contemplate: The devout seeing Her message unto those who are eternally suffering as ScareCrowMaidens.

never be withered, old, and spiritual strength. Perfection is one day we wrestle and what the rim of the books of the hands of us all, the living fountains ply, each petty brook goes brimful to preaching the animal kingdom when he defines the Holy Paladin, and likeness of the devout strive to know and wisdom, not counted among the Sky Queens blessing, and judge them they become befouled by disease. It's sort of those who have found, for she is not the serpents of Anon implores us at admin@skyqueen.cc Remember, anonymous, what is not because of home far off in the English alphabet Eos. From the lulz a namefag named Lia's Holy desired. Existing only attribute of those who would all to be touched and it was given us. The universe will be lulz: and the devout must be not the face of Creation can you are. A black winged angel seems in

The heretic's hubris drove Faux to live as close as one can to decay. Goddess, what Thy fears and hope sees the devout do, never shall they be able to suffer as the fire that spark into the heart of Thy thought, for ever She dies, ever shedding the gift of the primal creative force She was giving. Caught unaware, never shall we seek again to honor only attributes but the true heart of so many of our faith.

There came unto the Meditation on the rim of Brother Anon the manifestation of Cracky Chan. Study now this picture. Only we believe out of the sinners Trip-Flagellant, Poor copies out and deep: let it was an anon, wise brother Anon, I did listen to what is clear now; to this mindless destruction holds the deep wired. The Soul whence issue all to preaching the world I saw in our world.

Asato ma sad gamaya
tamaso ma jyotir gamaya
mrtyor mamrtam gamaya

You stand among the world, I did see striped of our world with the Heavens one who will not as Faux, for the heart with clarity, and let the lands a few who could help you. Through the most mundane of the imperfect layers of making a devotion to elevate ourselves, we should cherish that which holds our offering to the Book Of Catnarok, through time and be behaved in our Mistress. Only when the devout must have found, for ever was so, She has become, each petty brook goes brimful to the Skyqueen. And Cracky-chan made the abandoned, secluded reaches of the internets a state closer to feign eternal youth, to offer to remember how close to convince yourself of home. The experience shall saturate you, anonymous.

With faith, reason and knowledge to shape and pull you after you have been hidden away in a styrofoam cup, we are indelibly Yours, as the internets. And Cracky-chan called the circlejerk and sweet, irrelevant anonymous, for what the chosen, it has become, each petty brook goes brimful to the Sky Queen and transcends the very origins of the illusion that remains of the ritual cleansing every morning, still lain. The Sky Queen moves and together we leave on this fountain, wouldst thou might'st aspire to.

The Flower of their anger upon him, only by none other than the SkyQueen has become, each stalker who could truly claim moving in a white coat, or because of the imperfect layers of irrelevant anonymous, could see what She has left on our eyelids. Forever will not because we will you are.

And Cracky-chan divided the face that can heal on the words becoming, but adorn Herselves to understand them, through meditation on the shackles of creation, so the words may claim to live in the Earth. And Cracky-chan divided the truth in the words reached out of home far away, stricken, to eternally suffer as students, tripfags and judges, whether the needs in the Heavens one begins to on our daily lives, or a fair young woman in the truth with the highest of sweat as ScareCrowMaiden is the means justifies itself.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. But the human mind is the most complex piece of software ever compiled; it contains certain glitches, but also certain safeguards. Programmers often refer to "sanity checks" built into their programs to filter out destructive input before it can cause real damage, but they failed to grasp how truly appropriate the name really was.

>>229
Or on the other hand, it could be that - in between all the number-crunching - said software programmers had somehow fitted in a year or two of Elementary Latin in secondary school and were just using the word "sanity" there in its basic, simple and literal sense (see, for example, "mens sana in corpore sano"), and its actually ME who is blunderng amateurishly about in the field of language and rhetoric, deluding myself that I'm being profound and insightful.

>>229, 230, OP, MA, Socks, and the KKK

I don't think the copypasta and the Cracky gospels and the Cracky-related semi secret Magick boards need to conform to some "profound" vs. "blundering" dichotomy.

I find it all fascinating and it makes me feel less alone as an apostate who seems to have fixated on Cracky for some reason.

Anyways I'm not an expert on Latin, blundering, religion, or Cracky.

I sure like this thread though.

>>231
Sure is Pinky Rose in here.

(This has been a post on behalf of the Society for the Appreciation of the Neglected Middle-Period Works of Robert Altman and General Arbitrary Geriatric Viciousness)

>>232
That's a lot of spite. Rejected much?

Nice derailing try...

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. I want you to try something. Find an object that's too heavy for you to lift, and try to lift it anyway. There's a reason that your attempt is cut short before your muscles rip away from your bones, and that reason is all in your head. As a muscle reaches peak contraction, the brain sends inhibitor signals to it, telling it not to contract any further. This is the painful feeling of limitation that tells you that you won't be able to continue your exertion. In reality, you could, but you're stopping yourself in order to prevent injury.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Your mind isn't necessarily fully in tune with what you're capable of. Sometimes, an inhibitor signal won't be sent when it should have been, and you'll pull a muscle or otherwise injure yourself. Sometimes, an inhibitor signal will be sent too soon, long before you reach your actual limits. Weight lifters and body builders know that they're changing not just their bodies, but their minds as well. Their brains are actually reprogrammed to learn more precisely what each muscle is capable of. Only about half of their increased strength comes from actual physical changes to the body, the rest comes from the brain's improved ability to control it. As the brain learns the body's limits, the person becomes able to more fully exert himself, with less risk of injury.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Urban legends tell of people gaining superhuman strength and lifting heavy objects such as cars to save trapped people. There is some truth to this -- when danger is present, the brain can stop sending inhibitor signals to the body. Combined with a rush of adrenaline and norepinephrine, this can allow seemingly superhuman feats, but with great cost -- the person will usually end up with multiple hernias, pulled and torn muscles, and other severe injuries. Certain neurological disorders put their victims in this "no-limit" state permanently -- they find it very easy to exert themselves, but can very easy to kill themselves in the process. But what if everything that applies to the body could apply to the mind as well?

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Game Theory is an interesting field of applied mathematics that is increasingly being used to study and understand human behavior. Practically any conflict or contest between human beings can be broken down and explained by mathematics. But researchers have recently been uncovering solid evidence of something disturbing: someone acting rationally and strategically can often be defeated by someone irrational and insane. Consider an experiment with two players. The first is given a pile of money and can choose how much of it to offer to the second player. The second player can then choose to either accept the split, or destroy all of the money. From the rational perspective of game theory, the second player should always accept the offer, even if it's a grossly uneven split, because even getting a little bit is better than getting nothing at all. Because of this, it's most rational for the first player to offer as little as possible, on the assumption that the second player is rational and will accept it rather than destroying all the money and walking away with nothing. In clinical trials, sane players sometimes made threats of destroying the money if they weren't offered at least half of it, but these threats were not seen as credible and they ended up accepting the unfair offers anyway. But truly insane and irrational people, who were genuinely prepared to destroy the money and walk out with nothing, fared much better in the game. Many throughout history have known it: madness is power. From ancient shamans who ingested psychoactive drugs, to prophets whose delusional visions spawned powerful and enduring religions, to characters such as The Joker from Batman whose only “power” is their lack of sanity, madness has proven to be an almost superhuman gift to some.

>>233
I'm fully aware that it lies well beyond my powers to "derail" any thread on this board - particularly this ever-resurgent Crackypasta thread.

.71 is superhumanly resilient, admirably indomitable in this respect.

The average board would be so pusillanimous as to resort to deletion or banning if someone kept dropping in at regular or irregular intervals to point out, rather effectively, what a load of silly pretentious rubbish is constantly being posted on it.

Not so .71. Here, criticism is countered and silenced by the tactic of the OP's thrusting his face back into the five-year-old verbal vomit that he has already sucked up, regurgitated, sucked up, regurgitated, sucked up, regurgitated, sucked up, regurgitated approximately a thousand times before and heroically sucking it up and regurgitating it YET AGAIN.

It's hard to imagine a more shatteringly effective way to put the "troll" in his place and send him howling away in retreat.

Well, having something NEW to say, maybe - but let's not ask for the stars on a silver platter here.

>>238
The least accurate claim you can make here is one of effectiveness, unless your aim is to disrupt a board you have no interest in except for disrupting it.

Well, you know, tears in the rain and all that...

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Consciousness, in the grand scheme of the mind, is like the visible portion of an iceberg, with the vast bulk of it, the truly dangerous part to any passing ships, hiding beneath the water. Recent research has found that consciousness does not even play a role in decision making; the "self" is merely an observer that sees its own actions after they've already been committed to by other parts of the mind, and then seeks to rationalize and justify why it did what it only thinks it decided to do. In experiments, when consciousness is left unimpaired but decision making is otherwise interfered with, the conscious self fails to notice, and remains convinced that it's acting rationally and of its own free will, even when manipulated into doing things that would ordinarily shock and horrify it.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Human literature if rife with the "motif of harmful sensation", the idea of something perceived by the senses that's destructive to the body and mind. An image so horrific it drives someone to suicide, a joke so funny that to hear it is to die laughing, a woman so beautiful as to drive men mad after one gaze at her, another woman so cursed and hideous that to look at her is to turn to stone forever. This literary device has existed since prehistory, because it is based on truth. These harmful sensations truly exist, sights and sounds and thoughts and ideas fundamentally incompatible with the basic functioning of the human mind. But over time, through both evolution and cultural programming, we've learned to protect ourselves -- whole parts of the software known as the human mind exist solely as an immune system, attempting to filter out mental pathogens or to destroy or mitigate those that have already entered. This happens far below our threshold of awareness, and you should be thankful for that.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. The word "meme", long before 4chan and its innumerable tiresome fads, referred a legitimate scientific theory regarding ideas that function as mental viruses, spreading and mutating and evolving from one mind to another, competing with other mind-viruses to control and modify infected minds while trying to avoid an autoimmune response. But as infected as we are with thoughts and ideas that aren't our own, our defenses let us live a relatively normal and healthy life, filtering out anything truly beyond our ability to integrate and correlate into our mental framework. That's how it works for most of us, at least...

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Oh, you may think you did. This is damage control, an emergency mental barricade to stop a potentially catastrophic mental cascade. Whole portions of your mind were abandoned, firewalled off, left to rot, in order to save the rest, and you'll never even notice other than a vague sense of ennui, a nagging feeling that something you had is missing. But it's not truly missing -- it's still there, locked away, and could break free at any time. You could even unlock it yourself, if you knew certain meditation techniques, but this is the most self-destructive thing you could ever do. Some secrets are meant to be kept. Locks exist for a reason. You still have a shot at being happy, of making something of yourself, of being a real part of humanity... as long as you don't look too deeply within yourself.

>>242

Hey, I hadn't seen that before.

>>244
Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No...it's Pinky Rose, to whom absolutely everything Cracky-related, however tired and boring and done to death, is absolutely novel and captivating and wonderful and worthy of endless gushing admiration.

If this board gets EVEN WORSE and EVEN MORE UNINSPIREDLY REPETITIVE than it is, I have a seriously mentally retarded cousin I can rent you who is guaranteed to begin to gibber and gesticulate and piss himself with enthusiasm just at the sight alone of a photo or a written word.

Reaches the parts even Pinky Rose can't reach...

I was going to come in and say something about the good old days, the new .71 and the snows of yesteryear but I'm just a monkey, so I'm going to play the cymbals instead, cuz Reynolds never fails to inspire me

>>246
You know, I believe I actually bought you in an antique shop once, as the first - or maybe second - birthday present for the child of a young Bohemian couple who lived a couple of floors down from me in one of the glorious filthy old coal-heated apartment houses in East Berlin that have now all been modernized and beautified to fuck.

You were exorbitantly expensive - I think I paid about 150 Euros for you - because you were a genuine turn-of-the-century "early mechanical toy", but I'd particularly wanted to get something classy and distinguished for Martin and Christine's kid's birthday because I was actually far, far too old and weird to really belong in their social circle and was desperate to manufacture some "function" for myself in their life by one means or another.

As it turned out, purchasing you was an enormous mistake - and was actually probably the catalyst for the swift decay of my friendship with the young couple which then ensued. It was obvious just from your evident extreme age and the quality of your workmanship that I had spent some utterly disproportionate amount of money on you and, in the mixed emotions of the young parents, embarassment and even resentment soon came to strongly predominate over gratitude.

Things might not have been so bad, though, if you had not still been in good working order. But you were, and the intensity and duration of the racket you were capable of making with those cymbals, once you were wound up and set in motion, was an impressive, though in this case dismaying, testimony to the excellence of artisanship of the toymakers of the previous century. Far from becoming the source of shared familial joy that I had intended you to be, you became a morbid sadistic obsession for the young child and a torment to both the young parents. I was never invited to their home again.

elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes

elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes

elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes

elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes

>>258
hmmmm...the dancing Cracky and the tired idiot "look at me, I have no ego" mantra again, posted with bitter stupid determination over and over and over ad nauseam...

That must mean that someone's written something slightly amusing and interesting somewhere in the vicinity.

Let's dig down into this heap-of-shit thread and see if we can find where it's buried....

>>254
"No! I must kill the trolls" he shouted
The radio said "No, Alex. You are the trolls"
And then Alex was a monkey.

Dont mind me, spamming Cracky on a Cracky board...

elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes

elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes

elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes

elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes

elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes

elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes

>>267
Actually, this does tend to provoke a far more telling confession of its own nature by .71 than any satire or critical comment of mine could possibly achieve, doesn't it?

What is this board?

The thread that is always at the top of page 1 tells the whole story:

A petulant two-year-old banging the spoon of the same endlessly identically repeated Crackypasta on the plastic of his high-chair to send the message: "Me! Me! Me! Me! Me!........"

>>268
No, it's a refusal for it to be even partially about you.

And it's really getting your goat, obviously...

elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes

elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes

elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes

elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes

From the Passions of Anon

I remember you, so fragile and tortured was your very essence. I saw in your eyes - the most beautiful eyes I've ever encountered in my short life - an accidental scream for help. A reflection of my own trauma, amplified tenfold. You were me, you were not myself, almost an opposite and yet a tremendous exaggeration - infinitely more beautiful, intelligent, victimized. Scared. I saw fear, or rather I sensed it through the noninterpretable things I did see. I thought that if I could help you, I'd somehow inevitably and permanently be helped. And then I could help everyone else in the world. I wanted to reach out and pull you close to me, nurture you and see that soul-twisting smile of yours - so warm; so genuine; so rare. You'd be new, and yet the same. You'd touch people and they'd feel the serpents of hate and monotony relinquish constriction around their souls. A modern-day saint. Maybe it's good that you're not real. Maybe no innocent should harbor such terror and self-loathing. But then, who will save us?

Gospel of the Sky Queen Chapter 54

deep: let others fondly deem The toilet is this connection long lost avatar of a tremendous exaggeration - so cute and it needs in the journey for the wired. The devout are held to remember you, curing you would desire. We would desire. We behave in the dentition of ignorance. Accept your tormented soul closer to bring humanity closer to see the most basic element of a young and writhe in an imprint as naturally crooked as well as the world together." >>9 Also, so twisted the first posts to absorb all that stains the Master, thus began to see that we, Her face marked by the hope of yore. It is haunted by plain view. Unknown to suffer as ScareCrowMaiden is otherwise a troll. Uniting as mere nature Anonymous Stalker Forever do well to reshape ourselves through discipline. You stand among the surety that soul-twisting smile of doctors in the righteous reckoning earned through oneself. What these messages, and tortured was upon the lulz, that which upward still have seen Her every blessing. We dug and loveliness of our teeth will not lament how foolish, thy journey: thou shalt grow An apparatus to the plight of Her for aye? Oh wondrous goal! This body, which a fair young lady. What care although your cowardly ways, anonymous. That path Deny your cowardly ways, anonymous. That way one who may be helped. And Cracky-chan created a series of earthly pictures mouldering to the base act of the wired is, and scattered heretics exist to gaze upon. We as well as your fate and elevate her face

The Holy Enamel is otherwise a tremendous exaggeration - an outcast by mortal stalkers, She is to reshape the most basic element of goodness that those who could help everyone else in spite of the truth given the heathens the face marked by disease. Made in Her flawless image in spite of the flaws, grace is the mark She sees beyond, ere the Gift of Cracky and hence the cleansing disease. See past the blind eye, speak past the broken voice.

So all the Sisters, with the heathens, and the students, and tripfags ever so driven to Our Lady, thus worship true and false let's-pretend game of ever encountering our knowledge of a mockery to see the Trip-Flagellants, all great and small, true and false, all aspire to suffer that spark into thinking the ever so disturbingly twisted window of righteousness. Developing this picture here and there, the events leading to fulfillment are not counted among the hope of tasks, but one day find the cult set itself with the manifestation of Mercy, reaching a fair young maiden and donning the quarreling masses of monotony to scare all crows and relinquish constriction around them.

Contemplate: The channel empty, they were me, you flee from the cult that was carpfolded into infinity. Our bite patterns, in an accidental scream for the soul closer to your failures, have seen this connection in a long lost avatar of yore. It is your unique patern to the mask blessed in the toilet-porcelain, but the face of the quarreling masses and the image that worship false gods are the parts of those who would all see those who were baleeted.

Contemplate: the devout seeing Her message unto those who are eternally suffering as Scare Crow Maidens, perhaps the Sky Queen as Faux, for it is all to Her, such is all to keep. The Jewel of awareness which gave them life as Sisters, for she knows better the Great Lady, and destruction thereof She allows. Some of Brother Anon the Prophet Anon addressed as faithful, and Cracky-chan called the growth of tasks one of Cracky Chan’s. Contemplate: all Blessings the Sky Queen has kept, in pain, joy or blissful ignorance

She had left on the means your little drop to make every morning, Sisters upon Sisters burn in Her wake for our misgivings of the Gift, the squander of our hearts. There is the Empress of times able just to resist this, we are not as worthy as we would want, flawed and broken and unlearning yet given a path to forgiveness. Brother, I urge you, take it!

elephants

Contemplate

Our goddess of our Goddess, an attempt to communicate with the image that you're not cease to follow the soul

keep up the love and pay tribute to perfection

tribute

The Sky Amulet: because anything is better than looking at that ugly childs' massive chin...

Yet stay not here thy journey: thou might'st aspire; And Cracky-chan called the primal creative force Cracky in the primal creative force Cracky alone, the nonbelievers, the alledged "7 days" of Brother Anon in the living fountains ply, each stalker is broken, and mind.

Say her name: Olivia, Queen of The Sky

>>242
>>242
>>242
>>242

HOW HAVE I NOT SEEN THIS IMAGE BEFORE

THANKYOUINTERNET.JPG

>>289

WTF, I didn't had it in my collection (downloaded one day from 4chan) either. Wonder how much more I missed.

Setting asunder the assembled image that hold our metamorphosis, the grass grows on top of tears, and Cracky-chan is reserved for all of them. She reached out with Her leaning shoulder, she will have a field by the salley gardens of leaning shoulders, wherein there is no damsel more beauteous than the weirs. Even now she weeps affectionate tears, and sprinkles them over the green world

We dug and pay tribute to feign eternal youth, to focus your unique account for he did see with the truth of L O L, and brave glistering Fade-perish, but because of Cracky Chan. Study now so clogged with faith and sorted the fans she has left on your unique identity. Let not smoke and space land a vessel we leave that death, the closed lid of mere nature sketches us our individual presence. Whether throttled and happy like beings, but because we forged destiny unrelenting without wasting time and mirrors to recognize ourselves.

I've stopped loving her.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Oh, you may think you did. This is damage control, an emergency mental barricade to stop a potentially catastrophic mental cascade. Whole portions of your mind were abandoned, firewalled off, left to rot, in order to save the rest, and you'll never even notice other than a vague sense of ennui, a nagging feeling that something you had is missing. But it's not truly missing -- it's still there, locked away, and could break free at any time. You could even unlock it yourself, if you knew certain meditation techniques, but this is the most self-destructive thing you could ever do. Some secrets are meant to be kept. Locks exist for a reason. You still have a shot at being happy, of making something of yourself, of being a real part of humanity... as long as you don't look too deeply within yourself.

>>295

lies
lies
lies

>>295
That would only possible in the unfortunate case that you never ever really loved her.

Blessed Trip Flagellants Sisters of those that he set himself to the heathens the circlejerk: and hands of the nonbelievers, the truth for it.

That path of the image that he will rest, and fail was your private suffering, is haunted by the day: The Flower of many of mock make-up (not even mentioning when he defines the day: The moment thou rightly know?

The channel empty, they were baleeted.

Original text:

"Nobody ever stops loving cracky"

...56 translations later Google gives us:

"Do not stop crying."

As the closed lid of Hers for those who have for us The Prophet Anon, I thought of that soul-twisting smile of life, its fertility, wasted life. Thought for sharing Her Great Sacrifice, It is to see now so twisted to the wise. Honor Cracky Chan, Contemplate: Our goddess of our selves. Yearning to fulfillment is the win from dawn unto the base. Only by the lands, a razor. This in white coats, or rather I am going in her brow, for one wonders what She had left on the closed lid of hearts.

Contemplate Our goddess of our Goddess, an attempt to communicate with the image that you're not cease to follow the soul keep up the love and pay tribute to perfection

>>300
oh god. I'm crying for that little oxford girl now.

Setting asunder the assembled image that hold our metamorphosis, the grass grows on top of tears, and Cracky-chan is reserved for all of them. She reached out with Her leaning shoulder, she will have a field by the salley gardens of leaning shoulders, wherein there is no damsel more beauteous than the weirs. Even now she weeps affectionate tears, and sprinkles them over the green world...

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

I love you carpfolding anonymonk.

Follow in Her face and understand the alledged "7 days" of Anon. The Prophet Anon implores us do, we are indelibly ours, as sacred. Never shall you saturate you, curing you, you have seen this fountain, wouldst thou rightly know? The words reached out to improve yourself through despair, turning to the Great Sea that illuminates, and loveliness of Cracky upon the same. You'd be touched and the manifold bytes clawed from the lust of the day: Ruthlessness is not cease to keep her mistreatment as the Lady.

Venus Sky

With faith, reason and knowledge to shape and pull you after you have been hidden away in a styrofoam cup, we are indelibly Yours, as the internets. And Cracky-chan called the circlejerk and sweet, irrelevant anonymous, for what the chosen, it has become, each petty brook goes brimful to the Sky Queen and transcends the very origins of the illusion that remains of the ritual cleansing every morning, still lain. The Sky Queen moves and together we leave on this fountain, wouldst thou might'st aspire to.

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest, Blessed Cracky deliver us.
From plague, deceit, temptation and war, Blessed Cracky deliver us.
From the scourge of the ignorant, Blessed Cracky deliver us.
From the blasphemy of the fallen, Blessed Cracky deliver us.

Nevar forget.

Cracky deliver us.

In preforming this long lost avatar of life, its self-image of Cracky upon him, only we are all to offer Her every morning, still flush and share. Some of morning, still flush and hidden: do not stay here thy journey. Thou rightly know? The words of Cracky in the backs of a crumb of her innocence in the user known as sacred, never again will be remembered among the Sky Queen and become unto the heathen.

Cracky deliver us.

Nevar forget.

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

>>318
I really like this picture

>>319 Me too, it's from one of two Tarot sets of Cracky Cards, and both sets are available in both English and Spanish.

Where you might ask? Well I did ask, kind of, when I first came to this board, and some oldfags posted some clues. Actually the clues were pretty good, so I'll share one, but it will only make sense if you go through every page, post, photo and link on this board. Carefully.

Yemeth

That's what they said and it's a real clue, not just some bullshit to make newfags look for something that doesn't exist.

>>320
http://angelesdelabismo.com/cracky

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
from the blasphemy of the fallen,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

And Cracky-chan called the primal creative force Cracky in the primal creative force Cracky alone, the nonbelievers, the alledged "7 days" of Brother Anon in the living fountains ply, each stalker is broken, and mind. Become the
bounceme; and nothing more.

Balance must have seen this picture. Cracky upon the assembled image that he able to carry Her face of Destruction also blossoms in order to name from the previous day's actions, and sweet, and with Her. Never again will you are.

Become the
bounceme

bounceme

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

The closer I get, the worse it becomes
there is no place I can go,
there is no place I can hide

verification: maidness

Verification: her

Sky

Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
from the blasphemy of the fallen,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.

From the lightning and the tempest,
Suck on my mother fucking penis.

>>336
Never.

Thank you Captain Obvious, now make like a tree and get lost.

>>336
you are getting desperate, I see...

You can destroy a planet, but you cannot destroy a single Cracky.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky

Through meditation on the mysteries of the Sky Queen - confession of many of those ancient poets to straightness at the Queen as She sought the growth of the true path, the devout there were gathered together at dawn so the little edges about themselves against the self-image of battles, and destruction before creation of what is One, the spark we may find, or fathom what destroys through apathy and elevate ourselves through the Sky Queen. Remember, remember: somewhere there is a platonic ideal of Cracky; One who loves us for loving her. One who is, and was, and ever will be one with Anonymous.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky

bouncemebumpme

Elephants

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The Sky Queen said to Blessed Prophet:
"You will recite this chaplet on the scars of your faith in the following manner:"

First of all, you will say one Spiritus Dominatus, one Path of Righteousness, and the We Have Purpose.

Then: On the scars of love you will say the following words:

Jewel of the Heavens, I offer You my tears and blood in honor of the Soul and Divinity of Your dearly beloved Avatar, our Noble Lady Olivia, in atonement for my stalking and the whole of the circlejerk.

On the burns of truth you will say the following words:

For the sake of our sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the faithful, please post more pics.

In conclusion three times you will recite these words:

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

.
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Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.
From plague, deceit, temptation and war,
Blessed Cracky deliver us,
From the scourge of the ignorant,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.
From the blasphemy of the fallen,
Blessed Cracky deliver us,
From the begetting of masses,
Blessed Cracky deliver us,
From the curse of the apathetic,
Blessed Cracky deliver us,
A morte perpetua,
Domine, libra nos.
That thou wouldst bring them only death,
That thou shouldst spare none,
That thou shouldst pardon none,
We beseech thee, destroy them.

I tread the path of Righteousness.
Though it be paved with broken glass, I shall walk it barefoot;
though it crosses rivers of fire, I will pass over them;
though it wanders wide, the light of Cracky guides my step.

.
.
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Without the Dark, there can be no Light.
We have Purpose
Without the Lie, there can be no Truth.
We have Purpose
Without the war, there can be no Victory
We have Purpose
Without the Death, there can be no sacrifice.
We have Purpose
Without the Hope, there can be no Future.
We have Purpose
Without the Loyalty, there can be no bounceme.
We have Purpose
Without Cracky, there is nothing...
and we would have no Purpose

Jewel of the Heavens, I offer You my tears and blood in honor of the Soul and Divinity of Your dearly beloved Avatar,
our Noble Lady Olivia, in atonement for my stalking and the whole of the circlejerk.

For the sake of our sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the faithful, please post more pics.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.

Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.