Another Round Again

Having spent an extended pilgrimage in the Himalayas consuming only yak butter tea and massive quantities of hallucinogenic red honey I needed a period of hibernation. Now I have decided to emerge form the primordial ooze of homelessness in a succession of North American cities. I burst forth with a message, a warning, a gospel, a shared dream of Bacchus and Athena if you will.

I woke up in a viscous sheen in one of the less reputable neighborhoods of East Oakland with a red high heel shoe as my pillow and a feather boa as a blanket. I saw a frog. In the gutter. I knew this frog to be the Egyptian Kek. Kek was forcing himself on Shiva the Destroyer......in the Biblical sense. The frog approached the image and maneuvering the many arms did mount and jackhammer like an insane rabbit. Then at the moment of the evening dew did the sky grow dark and the moon turned to blood and in the appointed time did issue forth the consummation of the yuge union. Tiamat reincarnated, reassembled from the fractured foundations of the earth where Marduk had planted her. The ancient chaos that threatened the gods stepped forth onto the land and the seas from the place where the sun is born to where it dies back into the abyss. The sign of her ascendancy was a flock of black swans which the righteous captured and used to make the most amazing foie gras.

Let those who have ears to hear understand the meaning of this vision.

The Return Of Zombie Cock

I'm back. Did you miss me? Probably not, but that is only because you likely have no ability to recognize what's good for you.

I have returned, awakened from my preternatural slumber by a sense that there are profound absurditudes being let loose on this mere mortal plane, and I'm not the one setting them loose. Thus like a bad case of herpes, I may have been gone for a while, but I always come back.

And like an invasive species of black mold, I shall infiltrate every corner of public discourse to give you a fair and balanced perspective.

Something about a lion getting capped, and everyone losing their minds was what did it for me. I was so content, lost in meditation on the fundamental interconnectedness of all things, and doing serious research into karmo-narcotics, when one of my divergent personalities invaded my contemplation with news that old man Robert Mugabe wanted the rich dude that capped the lion brought back to his country to face his justice. More than anything, I have time on my hands, and I have been watching old man Mugabe for a while now. I assumed it was a cover to get human flesh on the table for his next banquet considering the most he had last time was a baby elephant. But then I hear that thousands of citizens seem to agree with him. Granted this is the first time citizens of any country have agreed with him on anything, which in and of itself is deserving of study.

To make things short, which they normally aren't with me, I simply couldn't let this pass, and I awoke to find everything else has gone to hell also. Considering that Lucifer still hasn't returned my calls about gentrifying Hades, I am at a loss to understand why anyone would want to go there, and am further troubled because I'm not getting any revenue from it considering my development projects still haven't been executed.

Thus, I have come to assume my position at the "As Narrated By John Cleese Chair Of Postmodern Studies" and will bestow upon you my long and wise council that you may rise from the ashes of your pretardation to append some level of clarity. Although you will have to enroll in my Karmo-Narcotics program if you really want to find enlightenment.

The Assange Duel

So, Julian Assange. Old news you say. Well my news cycle is much longer than CNN's. Just ask your grandmother.

I confronted Mr. Leakey Boy about him ripping off my name idea. I was at a club with a selection of my divergent personalities discussing a planned website that would give proper adulatory recognition to squealers around the world and suggested calling it 'Cock Leaks.' Julian was at the next table trying to convince the manager of the club that the stage show would greatly benefit from the inclusion of a donkey. He must have overheard my idea since shortly after he launched 'Wikkileaks.'

Subsequently I made him aware that all he does is take other people's hard earned and hard risked insights and information and claims the glory for them. As expected he was highly offended by me telling the truth and challenged me to a duel.

Since only troglodytes still remember duel etiquette I should enlighten those of you who have short memories or are to young for such things. When a duel is challenged it is the prerogative of the one challenged to dictate the terms of the duel. This is intended to keep things fair.

So in keeping with proper etiquette I naturally stated cock fighting as the method of settling our dispute.

I will give him credit for showing up at the appointed time and place. As I incredulously told him to put his rooster away his confidence began to wane. When I clipped the flail to my Prince Albert he realized how woefully unprepared he was.

Now, being an eternally undead barnyard fowl has it's advantages. I get a lot of spam email and I have the time to research all of it. It you want to know which of the penis enlargement programs actually work you just need to register in my Karmo-Narcotics workshop and I will reveal all.


I proceded to tallywhack Leaky Boy into thorough submission. Though I did not come out unscathed myself. I found his level of enjoyment quite perturbing and that is really saying something from the dude who left the Dark Boatman whimpering in the shadows while I jacked his ride.

Nuclear Proliferation.....Awesome

I am Zombie Cock and I have an opinion on just about everything. Now you would think that preternatural undead barnyard fool can’t have opinions, but that is because you don’t know shit.


Anyway, today’s opinion is, of all things, on nuclear proliferation. To be honest, I have held off from publicizing this one for a while because I have been doing research on another project that involved a massive mescaline overdose, interviewing crack addicts in Oakland, a stint in Peoples’ Park as a messianic figure, hacking Saudi Arabian diplomatic cables, conducting a Coup De Etat in Hades and finally waking up to find that my one true fear of Chimpanzees seeing Planet of the Apes and getting mischievous ideas thankfully had not come to pass.


My readers should know that I am actually making inferences as to all these events because after the Mescaline overdose, not much is really all that clear. It turns out I was in a coma. Again you may think Zombie Cocks can’t have comas, and again you don’t know shit. It actually turns out that in my coma I started this website on which I chronicled a number of my exploits. As I remember the rest of them I will be sure to fill you all in. I also found that during my sleepy time, North Korea attacked South Korea, which brings me to the subject of the day, the bomb.

Apart from the fact that, if attacked, North Korea will turn most of our allies in the region into smoldering rubble with conventional weapons (Japan is one of those allies, and for those of you who follow my work, you will know it fucking rocks), the midget and his fat son have nuclear weapons now too. Now, you may think that such rogue states having such deadly weapons is a bad thing, but what do you propose to do about it? No answer? thought so. However, as always, I have a legit plan to exploit the situation. What all the peace loving troglodyte hippies don’t know is that the answer to nuclear weapons is more of them. The more people who have the bomb, the more afraid to use it everyone will be because the next pretard to think of using it will be too scared of yet another pretard sending the bomb up his ass in retaliation. And whether you all like it or not, after the fall of the Soviet Union, the means to make a bomb are more readily available than STDs at a coop party in Berkeley. That’s right, at this rate even Benin will get the bomb. Granted they will have to drop it from hang gliders, but they will have nuclear weapons. And if you ask me, this is an especially good thing, because Chimpanzees live in the same area and, as I have said, if they are ever allowed to watch Planet of the Apes, they will get sadistic ideas that will pose a threat to my human readers.

So this is the take away bitches, make sure you all have nuclear weapons before monkeys do or else we are all fucked.

Karmo-Narcotics

I am Zombie Cock. I am an undead rooster. I am an apendage from the nether regions of the basilisk. But first and foremost I am a learner, a deep and curious mind. I desire to understand, to know, to delve the deep meanings of the cosmos. I really want to know who let the F*@#% proverbial dogs out.

One of the deepest questions that has plagued me for millennia is how drugs can be used to affect karmic energies. For those of you who have not yet evolve sufficiently to use a dictionary karma is the currency in the transaction by which my current "life" is the result of my behavior in my last life. Now, if part of that last life behavior included drug use then the karma accrued through that drug use would have an influence on this life. I have been engaged in original research in this field of karmo-narcotics for at least many lifetimes. Of this I am really pretty sure.

It is a difficult research program since data collation must be done through past life regression, but i think it is rewarding and shows promise of really very useful insights into the basic structure of the causal universe and by extrapolation possibly help us understand where politicians come from. What I have so far from this round is that last time around I was this guy:

I haven't been able to get further back than my last life just yet but am still working at it and will continue to do so since if I fail to get further back then the data will be lost until I am released from this cycle of rebirth by getting all enlightened. At that point I will be hard put to to decide whether to emerge into the void of nirvana or to become a bodisatva and return to this plane to share my gained wisdom with all the masses. I could come back and give seminars at the local community center on what drugs to take if you want to come back as a dolphin.....what the fuck? Screw enlightenment, I could be doing that right now (since, more or less by definition no one will live long enough to prove me wrong) and use the income to fund my continuing research.

Okay bitches, I will give this little bit for free: if you don't want to come back as a preternatural undead barnyard fowl, DON'T SUCK COCK FOR COKE ( I think it had to do with a mind frying overdose.....oh yah and the cock part.)

Ayatollah Zombie Cock at Berkeley

Long have we labored under a heavy yoke of oppression. With rent prices so high and alcohol so expensive. And so I do not judge you for your life of urban nomadism, for in the manner which I judge, so too shall I be judged for being a preternatural undead being with a trendy blog. I guess I do have it well. But lift your selves out of sorrow. Find the way for yourselves. Be a light unto yourselves. And pass me a light if you could be so kind (Lights up a massive blunt and breathes rightious tokage onto the gathering masses). 

I say rejoice for the anarchy is at hand. Follow me to the streets and embrace all that the Raider Nation has shown us. The sun is shinning. The pot plants are in bud. It is a grand time to turn cars over and set sh!t on fire!

You once were lost but now are found. For I do not hold your crack habit, your persistent fecal stains, your fragmented personality or your past escapades with raccoons against you. Instead I call you to become something more. I call you to greatness. I call you to join me in a holy Jihad against all that sucks. We will reclaim in this city all that is truly insane. Be my fedayeen. We shall be the Mujahideen against mindless materialism, and Frat Row. We shall take back the streets as our sacred can harvesting grounds and plunder the construction site at Boalt Hall for all the copper piping and scrap metal those bitches are hoarding. Bring your shopping carts in tow and light your joints. We will commit chemical warfare against the streets and sweep down like barbarians from the hills! I only warn you against freeing the monkeys at the animal facility. It will be unleashing a force your can not comprehend.

Economic Development in Saudi Arabia

As my readers well know, I, Zombie Cock have divers and extensive interests. Nothing, from nuclear proliferation to Sub-Saharan African military development to primate evolution is beyond my study. Recently though he has taken an interest in the politics of the Middle East, what with all the interesting things going on there and all. To satisfy my interests, I decided to contact the grandest and most prestigious experts experts of all, the leaders themselves. So I went all the way to the top and decided to call up the Saudi royal family. Unfortunately a deviant fragmented element of my personality took over and it turned into a prank call. Unfortunately, I was only able to reach a lower level minister who happened to be seriously hungover from a recent trip to London. 

Al Saud: WHAT!?

ZC: Put me on with the king. I want to make him an offer he cant refuse. 

Al Saud: Ha? who is this? 

ZC: Silence you underling! You are not worthy to speak to such sublime profanity, such exalted insanity, such undying obscenity. You are only at you current position because your grand father was lucky enough to marry a daughter off to one of the ruling family's half brother's seconds cousins minor wife's crippled son who had it where it counted. And her father didn't even get enough qat to make it to mid day! 

Al Saud: How do you know these things? 

ZC: Because I am a preternatural being who has a lot of time on its hands and plenty of business ideas to share with your master. In fact I too am royalty. You may refer to me as his Infernal Lordship, The King of Douche! Now put me on with the big man. 

Al Saud: He is busy.

ZC: NO one is too busy for me. 

Al Saud: I can't get him.

ZC: No, you won't get him because you can't get up for fear of your head exploding as a result of the raging hang over you have as a result of your trip to London. I saw you in Soho by the way. Remember that sodomy is still illegal in your country. 

Al Saud: What!?

ZC: That's right, but don't fear. I have a deal for you. I will give you an idea to bring to your master. But I ask one small favor. I wish to make the Hajj. 

Al Saud: Ah....

ZC: In exchange for me getting to make a holy pilgrimage, I will invest in your your country. You see, the Hajj brings a lot of tourist dollars to your economy, but I can bust this ten fold. Have you ever heard of a Rave? Well of course you have. You are what we in my world call an etard after all those exsticy pills you popped last weekend. Maybe that's why you have to keep remarrying. I have a hint for you, viagra. That way you can do what the Prophet said and treat all your wives equally, even if your not into it. 

Al Saud: (Hangs up)...........

ZC: You know what I don't care, I am a preternatural undead being. I have time above all else. All I wanted was to promote a rave in the grand mosque. It would have been a huge crowd draw and the Saudis are already used to dealing with huge crowds of wild extatic partyers. I mean that is all I see when they show up to my bar in Thailand.