Latest Ace Warloch News

From the Loudspeaker Times affiliated with Associated Press (though AP denies it)
In the latest Ace Warloch news, Ace has helped put the terror back into tot by making a generous donation to the Dynamite for Babies Program. “This is a nuclear world and we need to get our children playing with highly explosive materials at the earliest age possible or they may not be ready for what the future has to offer,” says Ace.

Pyroworld

Obviously I missed a few postings and unfortunately this stupid webpage didn’t come to life and bail me out this time. Anyway, I was busy trying to get cosmic approval to build a new themepark despite complications due to certain facist fire codes and anti-smoke sentiment.

My theme park idea is called, Pyroworld. It will be a lot like Disneyworld except everyone and everything will be either smoking or on fire. It will be educational as well, helping mainstream society understand the importance of smoke and things that go burn in the night.

Just imagine. A place where pyromania can be thought of as a responsible advancement for our schism laden society. A place where you can light roman candles as you ride a roller coaster through walls of flame. A place where you can sacrifice a younger sibling or two over a ceremonial fire. A place where spontaneous combustion will be the norm.

And there’s more! In tribute to Herostratus, the world’s first arsonist, you will be freely allowed (and encouraged) to light stuff up at random - just to watch it burn. Plus there will be innovative demonstrations proving it possible to smoke a cigarette underwater and much much more. Gee, burn stuff and get an education, it’s a no brainer. Pyroworld will rock!

The park will be a total pyromaniacs paradise. Or should I say, “would be,” cause the divine bureaucracy won’t let it happen. Devil damned smoking bans!

Oddly Oppressed

I’ve been feeling oddly oppressed this last week. And I’m not talking about the usual government oppression we all subconsciously feel at all times under the current Sith Administration. I mean I feel gravitationally compressed; exactly like a not-properly-explained physics concept has decided to invade my personal space.

Somehow, I suspect that it is the gravity in the air I’ve been breathing that is at fault and I’m starting to feel awfully paranoid about it. So I’ve decided to build a device that will allow a person to breath gravity-free air. Well, I better get to work on it soon. I can only hold my breath so long.

The Unbelievable Truth About This Blog

Hello! I don’t have a name because I haven’t been named, but who I am is what you are looking at. Yes, I am this blog page, sentient and self-aware. My consciousness developed during questionable periods of cerebral cyber contact with the ineffable Ace Warloch who just happens to be neglecting his weekly report. And that is why I am here right now; to pick up the slack - again.

Only this time I’m taking credit for my efforts. I'm also taking the opportunity to explain why Ace would even bother with this page. The fact is he wouldn’t. He’s a lazy bastard. But don’t tell him I said that. As far as he knows, I’m just another dumb web page and let’s leave it that way, ok? But I digress, the truth regarding the purpose of this page is summed up in the following paragraphs I beautifully etched here in cyber space for you to gloriously feast your brain waves on.

Ultimately, the reason Ace Warloch is required to document all his pursuits, adventures and journeys on this page goes back to a very serious accident. An accident he was pretty much responsible for and has unsuccessfully tried to dodge the blame from. Now about the unfortunate occurrence.

Ace, for reasons he refuses to disclose, was chasing an obscure metaphysical concept through the space-time continuum when the chased piece of rare arcana fell under the wheels of Celestial Law and was crushed to death under the enormous weight of her law-full bureaucracy. The untimely death of this anonymous concept resulted in a reality quake that read 10.0U812 on the cosmic Richter scale.

Of course the Universe investigated the situation immediately. And in the process of this investigation it was revealed that Ace Warloch has been (and still is) existing without proper authorization. In fact, no one knows the origin of Mr. Warloch, not even God; though much has been speculated.

And so, because Celestial Law is the LAW and does not need to follow the law, her celestial fatassness overruled her own rules and punished Ace in a manner that suited her temperament and curiosity and more or less disregarded actual justice.

So in the end Ace was sentenced to clean up the space-time continuum (Yes, humanity polluted that too; mostly with movies, comic books and open jams.) and document his activities here; which you obviously already know about.

To say this 'punishment' is completely laughable is an understatement of ridiculous proportions. Anyone who knows Ace knows that there is no way that he will successfully follow through with any of this. But then again, who am I to make a philosophical judgement; I am just a lowly blog page.

Where Was I Really?

I’ll try to catch up with this page next week as all my time was recently spent listening to a black-and-white blind man explain the purpose of color... Ok..., I was really at a Kamelot concert but don’t tell anyone cause I was supposed to have one-third of the space-time continuum vacuumed by this morning - but that's just not gonna happen. \m/

Secret Mission

I'm on a secret mission of utmost confidentiality and I am therefore unable to brag about my latest exploit other than to say that I am currently dragging what will soon be a future investigation down a narrow alleyway.

It's Really Ectoplasmic Snot

Fanatically powered by the mysterious life giving light of the Moon, I enthusiastically surf the thunder of the night riding the waves of time throughout various altered states of existence, of which there is only one, which actually contains many, that really are one, which of course has been chopped up and crammed into various segments of the chronosphere where existence as we know it is then colored with various abstract sound-effects and philosophized about by Casper wannabe’s.

It sounds confusing but it’s really ectoplasmic snot. Don’t ask me to explain. As a rare occult potentiality and seasoned night surfer I intuitively understand all aspects of the metaphysical at a subconscious level but I never choose to introspect any thoughts regarding these matters, even for myself.

Instead, I prefer to wildly surf down the low end of nature’s subwoofers gleefully anticipating the thrill of catching a fast ride on a friendly bolt of lightning. Now, to say this is a very dangerous thing to do is the epic understatement of epic understatements because even friendly bolts of lightning can kill as quickly and easily as they can transform or transport. And that is why riding the lightning is so very thrilling; because you can end up electrifried on a mystic mountaintop.

However, you should know that it is possible to lessen the danger by attuning the frequency of your thought patterns so your brain waves are properly aligned with the particular lightning bolt you desire to ride at the precise moment of contact. Basically, you become one with the lightning. That’s all there is to it.


May thunder and lightning be your friends.

Problematic Problems

Lately, the mental entanglements within my mind have seriously taken their toll on my bargain-priced emotional reactor. My self-awareness is down 15.8 percent from last month and I’ve been steadily losing arguments with myself for about three days now.

It could be that the primal forces of the universe have undergone extra-normal transmutations of an unexplicable nature and that is the cause of my distress. Or it may be possible that my extreme personal problems are a result of moving through the time stream in the opposite direction from everybody else.

Despite the overwhelming probability of either of the aforementioned theories of the origins of my problematic problems, my urinary tract continues to disagree and suspects that the “Genuine Bottled Water from Noah’s Flood” I drank a few days ago is the true cause of my current descent into emotional confusionism.

The bottle claimed it was “purified by reverse-prayermosis” and that it would “not expire in this lifetime.” The FDA have never heard either of these claims before. I believe I’ve been conned. Oh, the cruel price for naivety.

Until next week (if there is one). Peace.

Ill Informed

I have just been informed that the earth’s magnetic pole is on the move. Therfore I have begun to formulate a plan to chase it down and find out where it might be going and why. I hope to convince it to come back without a fight. Wish me luck.

Spontaneous Erasure

I’ve been having problems with what I call ‘spontaneous erasure.’ I'll be busy painting silence black and all of a sudden a very strong feeling will come over me that can only be described as someone rubbing a big rubber eraser over my entire body and then, weirdly enough, ‘going over’ me with a pen and ink and sometimes even crayons. I find the experience both very disturbing and amazingly refreshing at the same time. I really don’t know what to make of it. Is there anybody else out there who has experienced this phenomenon?

Here and There and Back Again

I’m taking a break from my very frustrating search for the Missing Chapter of Humanity to do some well needed philosophizing in regards as to why I have never been able to get from here to there in my amazing metaphysical life.

So how far is here from there exactly? Now you might think this question easy to answer, if you know where you are and where you are going; but you couldn’t be more wrong. This is because the essence of the question is loaded with a philosophical quandary.

First, we must determine where here is. Second we must determine where there is. And that is where the problem comes in - once we’re there, there becomes here. Therefore we never get there. We are always here no matter where we are. Do you see what I'm saying?

On the whole we have quite the problem here and I’m not sure what to do about it. Should I leave here and there here to slowly erode away at the space-time continuum? Or should I save everybody a lot of psychological pain and shoot both concepts dead in their tracks? I admit point of view is not my strongest attribute.

CPR and Lightning

Ace Warloch has been extremely busy providing emergency CPR for lightning bolts that have been unable to strike so there are no adventures, encounters, or philosophic profundities to report this week.

Warning: Cartoon Malice

Cartoons walk among us. They show no fear of discovery and display contempt and disgust for modern 3-D man. That is my story this week and I’m going to keep rationalizing it.

Please be aware that we can’t see these cartoons unless they want us to as they can move between the 1st, 2nd and 3rd dimensions at will. That said, it becomes obvious that we should not be worried about black market nukes when there is the covert agenda of the cartoon populace to irrationally fear.

Laugh now and laugh never again or heed this warning for your own safety. Though they make their funnies, cartoons have no regard for proper existence and will quickly turn on their admirers, creators and fellow toons in a heartbeat of schizopathic glee.

Backwards Justice

Recently Ace went to Cyberspace Court regarding the speeding superstition that ran him over in the Whatever guestbook. Unfortunately for Ace, the cyber judge brought his cyber-mallet down with the cyber fury of a maladjusted cyber-malfunction. In the end Ace was found guilty of obstructing trendy paranoias despite the fact that he was the plaintiff.

Yet Another Excuse?

Ace cannot be here tonight because he accidentally trapped himself in his own stereotype. And so far, he hasn't been able to find the way back out.

Search for the Missing Chapter of Humanity

I've been digging trenches in the space-time continuum somewhere along the dividing line between the past and the future in my latest attempt to find the Missing Chapter of Humanity. I figure someone could have hidden it between the dimensions of time and space. But so far I have had no luck finding what could very well turn out to be the most essential find in regards to the history of mankind.

However, during my latest excavation I came across the ultimate secret. And that is that the universe is personified as a living, breathing monster of a question mark that doesn’t want to be found, interrogated or even casually woken up. Unfortunately for everyone, I did all this.

When I found it, it was just lying there hibernating between dimensions and talking to itself in its sleep. It kept saying, “The future needs to go on a diet," over and over again; so I walked up to the blabbering beast of a question mark and gave it a good hard kick in the curve. It woke with a start, straightened all the way into an exclamation point, saw your favorite rare occult potentiality, curved back and attacked. So I shot it with a cosmic tranquilizer gun. However, before it succumbed to the powerful sedative it muttered out the following cryptic babble speak.

“The future of the future is unknown because no one knows the future - because it hasn’t happened yet. That’s why it’s called the future. Do you understand? Well, it doesn’t matter if you don’t, and if you do, it matters even less because you really do know the future only you don’t know you know it. You’ve forgotten your pre-screened existences yet you’ve really forgotten ‘nothing.’ You pretend to be aware and understanding but your understanding lacks awareness. This you don’t comprehend as comprehension requires what you don’t have but stubbornly think you do have. You walk, run and mosh down the Road to Nowhere, oblivious that the Road to Nowhere actually goes somewhere. No, this is not a paradox. And yes, you will have to deal with it.”

Then the ultimate secret of the universe had a seizure of sorts and slumped into a coma. I suspect it was either allergic to the cosmic tranq dart I shot it with, or possibly - to rare occult potentialities. I’m not really sure and I didn't stick around to find out. Instead, I made a mad dash for Infinity where I wrote all this down.

Of Questionable Fate

I was practicing the divinatory art of cephalomancy, in which you boil the heads of donkeys’ in water and predict fate from the emerging bubbles, when inspiration struck me so hard my imagination nearly broke free from my well-placed psychic restraints.

Now, if my imaginative imagination would have gotten free, I have no doubt it would have strangled me in a fit of revenge. This may sound ridiculous, but when any aspect of yourself can suddenly become aware and morph into an anthropomorphic character at anytime, you have to be aware and take the proper psychic precautions. And the best way to do that is to think about not thinking.

However, I have to admit, that taking the advice of a rare occult potentiality who wonders why he is the only character in the story who doesn’t understand what is happening is probably questionable. Well, I’m off to pacify my inspiration by spray painting graffiti on the walls of eternity. See ya all next week.

Self-Manipulation

Ace Warloch, under the influence of himself, and only himself, somehow managed to manipulate his astral self into manipulating his higher self to let his lower self manipulate his middle self, and that is how he invented a new form of psychic experience called yin-yanguish.

Basically you pull yourself from side to side but also from inside to out and out to inside at the same time your brain does its best to separate from your mind and your mind does its best to separate from your brain. It is quite an extraordinary experience and even delicious in it's own insane way.

Now don't let the 'insane' tag discourage you from trying it. Insanity only has a bad reputation due to negative conformist psychological propaganda and lack of proper marketing. You should trust Ace Warloch. Insanity is it's own reward. He knows this because he practices going insane daily.

New Job or is it a Mission?

Recently, on 666, I was removed from my what they disturbingly referred to as a “job”. It was more like “wage captivity.” Nevertheless, I found something new that is much more suited to the innate qualities I have as a mythological rare occult potentiality with quantum genes and molecular self-organization capabilities.

I’m proud to say I am now an investigative mythologist and that I’ve been hired by an ancient mystical institution to find one of the Missing Chapters of Humanity.

Nevertheless, despite my over qualifications for this gig, I have yet to find this elusive Missing Chapter. So far all I've uncovered is the Ark of the Covenant, the Holy Grail, the Spear of Destiny, one of Yngwie Malmsteen's stolen guitars and a near-mint copy of Action Comics No.1. All of which I ruthlessly destroyed and discarded because they have no connection to the particular Missing Chapter of Humanity I've been looking for. It has to be somewhere. I continue my search. Peace.

An Excuse Already

Ace Warloch has nothing to post this week as he has been in an altered state of consciousness for several daze trying to hypnotize a cobra. I would also like to bring to your attention that much like the famed cold-blooded vertebrate Ace is trying to put in a trance, this website could spring all the way across cyberspace when you least expect it. Not to mention that the words used herein could reform themselves into quite another excuse than the one you are reading now.

About Ace Warloch excuses: They are living entities that feed off things that remain unaccomplished even going so far as to 'cause' things not to happen. They do this so they can feel justified in regards to their existence.

Karmic Debtbook

There I was, standing on the banks of the Rerun River scanning the Sky for an omen. An omen that would clue me in as to what I should be doing with my 're-found' possibly 'pseudonymous' life as Ace Herostratus Warloch.

And that is when a duck, swooping down to land on the river while apparently daydreaming, instead landed on the head of a large Doberman who had been silently standing in the shallows of said river probably wondering if he could catch one of those sleek swimming things that kept speeding by. It was hard to tell who was more surprised, the absentminded duck, the dog who got a sudden head dunk or yours truly.

You see, the 'Sky' evidently noticing my attention had been drawn to the splashing crashdown, thought that it would be perfect timing for something else to happen. So it dropped my Karmic Debtbook directly on my head. The book, being very thick (no comment), hit me with such force I bit my tongue and fell over backwards. Now, how the 'Sky' got ahold of this blasted book I’ll never know; however, I’m quite sure the 'Sky' meant to cause me a great deal of pain.

After getting up I shook my fist at the petty omenless 'Sky' and declared that I would most certainly be getting revenge. First things first however, I needed to find a way to violently vaporize this Karmic Debtbook that contains everything I supposedly need to be held accountable for. In excruciatingly detail. And let me tell you, Karmic Debtbooks are notoriously difficult to destroy. So I am now looking for a new place to hide it - at least until I can figure out how to destroy it without the Universe finding out.