If you are not familiar with Discordian philosophy, which you most likely are not, there is a game played among them which we call sink.
Here are the rules for sink:
PURPOSE: To sink object or an object or a thing... in water or mud or anything you; can sink something in.
RULES: Sinking is allowd in any manner. To date, ten pound chunks of mud were used to sink a tobacco can. It is preferable to have a pit of water or a
hole to drop things in. But rivers - bays - gulfs - I dare say even oceans can be used.
TURNS are taken thusly: who somever gets the junk up and in the air first.
DUTY: It shall be the duty of all persons playing "SINK" to help find more objects to sink, once; one object is sunk.
UPON SINKING: The sinked shall yell "I sank it!" or something equally as thoughtful.
NAMING OF OBJECTS is some times desirable. The object is named by the finder of such object and whoever sinks it can say for instance, "I sunk
Ahhh, good ol' Sink.
anyway, I took the liberty (it's mine after all) of writing a terrible short story I call, well, Sink!
Here it is:
I stand at the edge of a swampy pond, in the pond floats a thing; the thing itself has a label, easily read from where I stand on the shore. The label
reads 'HAPPIENESS', the thing floats on. Suddenly, a friend is beside me "Let me try," he says with a cheerful tone. He has a television set in his
arms now; he grunts and hurls the television toward the thing floating in the swampy pond, it misses the thing by nearly ten feet by my guess and
splashes heartily into the pond, "Damn." he says under his breath.
Now, another friend is standing next to me on the bank of the swampy pond. "You missed," he says, presumably, to the other friend "Now let me have a
go." he says to no one in particular, he has a laptop computer in his hands now. He hauls the computer up and over his head and heaves it forward
toward the thing. The laptop soars out of his hands and over the pond like a bird comprised of man-made components, it disappears below the murky
water about three feet from the thing floating there in the swampy pond.
"You'll never get it that way," a new friend says stepping up beside the three of us, arms loaded with bags of food "This is how it's done." He
declares proudly, tossing the food, bags and all, into the pond toward the thing. All of the bags miss badly except one that nearly hits the thing.
"Damned thing." mutters the food tosser.
A woman is standing with us now, I don't consider her a friend but I do know who she is. "Let me try! Let me try!" she exclaims and before any of us
can aquiesce she begins throwing objects at the thing in the pond, labeled and filed under 'HAPPINESS', she is throwing small things: golden earrings,
a bracelet with charms jingling from it, now a diamond ring, then a silver necklace with a heart shaped pendant all of them slip beneathe the water
stealthily, "It's not enough!" she shouts, frustrated. "It's never enough." my friends say in unison and the trinket thrower agrees.
A man (I have no idea who he is) steps up to the bank of the swampy pond and without a word begins lobbing whiskey bottles at the thing floating in
the pond screaming at it as he does so. They miss. He follows the whiskey with cases of beer and then by a wide variety of narcotics. They miss just
as well. When he runs out of ammunition, the drug lobber drops to his knees and begins to sob uncontrolably. "There, there," we all comfort him,
I take off my shoes and coat. I begin walking away from the bank of the swampy pond. Then, I run. As fast as my legs can carry me, toward the pond
and, ultimately, the thing floating in the pond. I jump and yell "Cannonball!' as I reach the jump's apex. I fall, almost floating, toward the pond
and land smack dab on the thing. I emerge from the green murky water covered in slimy algae and behold the stunned spectators.
"I sank it!" I say to them, ecstatic with joy and a smidgen of fear, "I sunk Happiness!"
Thank you for not reading this, ser or madam
All Hail Discordia, or don't.
edit on 13-6-2013 by CagliostroTheGreat because: silliness