Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Where Great Intelligence Goes To Be Insulted

Friday, 22 March 2019

The Filthie Demonologist

Awhile back I came across a medieval map of the world on the internet that was festooned and illuminated with not only geographical data, but biblical saints, demons, heroes and villains. It was as much a map of the medieval soul as it was of their world. I was most impressed with a demon that manifested itself as a game animal that tempted hunters into damnation by farting at them and seducing them with evil. People supposedly have patron saints - if there were such thing as patron demons that one would be mine; I fart at friends and enemies alike and leave them praying for the refreshing scent of sulphur and brimstone, HAR HAR HAR!!!!

By contrast, today's demons are boring, uninspired and soul-less just like the losers that believe in them. There's the eeeeevil racists, haters, homophobes and sexists. Just so ya know, those demons are also at my own personal beck and call - I and my fellow old stubfarts are ruining the world, if certain parties are to be believed. Fortunately a new breed of angels and saints like Alexia Occasional Cortex, Justin Turdo, and crusading social justice warriors have risen to save the world and lead the faithful into a utopia of social justice and niceness. Virtue as pure as the driven snowflakes will scour guys like me from the earth... but I am okay with it.

Angels and saints. 

One of my favourite bloggers was so disgusted with the acting and scripting of current morality plays that he literally stood up and walked out of the theatre to go futz around in the garden and do something useful! At first, I thought he was nuts - you don't turn your back on demons, that's literally how a fella gets kilt! "Nothin' I can do about it," he replied.  He made a good point. Yannow what? I think I am going to blow this popsicle stand too! Like all the fiction coming out of Hollywood these days - it's all about shitty, bitchy empowered women, turd brained queers and coloured arseholes. They can have it! HAR HAR HAR!!! There are real demons in this world, and in my life... those are the ones I need to confront!

Behold your doom, modern sinners: The Battery Demon

Yesterday the spring breeze infused me with a feeling of virtue and righteousness and I went out to the shed. It hasn't been opened since fall last year. Frost heaves had made the doors jam shut tighter n' the gates of hell. Demons fear the righteous and throw up barriers to thwart them. I got pissed and grabbed a shovel and levered them open. Time stands still in that shed and everything was just as I left it half a year ago. A beat up old company ball hat hung from a hook and reminded me that last year I was a senior sales manager at the apex of his career. I wore that grungy hat as a talisman to remind myself that that was not who I was. My customers often wore similar hats - I wonder if it was for similar reasons? When you're a sales guy or a manager you always have to wear that mask. That and the road can grind you down and for me that hat was a small gesture of defiance of all that. It's hard to explain to someone who hasn't experienced it, I guess. Like explaining air to a fish. Today I work for kids half my age at half my former wage - and I thank my Maker that I can do it. I left that hat on it's hook... I don't think I need it anymore. The gen, the mower and all my other tools n' implements were all neatly parked right where I left them before I buttoned the shed up before the snow. I spied my foam archery target and vowed again that this year I would drag it out and use it. Archery is therapeutic to the soul too.

With my halo glowing bright I put the key in my mighty street cruising motorbike and caressed the starter - and she rolled over with a rumble and welcomed me back My bike is not piped, she idles somewhere between a purr and a rumble that soothes the soul without offending the ear. I guess my halo had banished the battery demons from the shed and all is well in there. I shut off the bike and closed the shed back up - we'll roll her out right on time this year as always. In your face, Battery Demons!!! My iron horse LIVES!!! And so - for the moment and the grace of my Maker do I.

By contrast the Battery Demons bent Flapz over a rail and made him bark like a pig: both his Harleys were flat and dead despite languishing in a heated garage for the winter, and his side by side UTV was deader than a door nail too. I sent a quick text to let Flapz know about my victory and was rewarded with a heart warming stream of rage and profanity back. Such are the rituals of spring hereabouts. This spring I was reminded that there are more important sinners and saints in life to worry about.

I will wish you the best of luck with yours, and thanks for stopping by.

Have a great Friday.

1 comment:

  1. demons are real and we are getting a glut of them the last few decades since north americans threw away decency and turned our backs on God and His statutes.
    in other words we are getting what we asked foor.