Truthspoon


Insider info and illuminati analysis...


...from the man they just can't recruit.

Sunday, 18 November 2012

The Knights of the Sacred Trousers.....


Secret meeting place of the Order of the Knights of the sacred trousers' worldwide headquarters.



Enter a topless man with a plastic bag over his head shuffling into the room with his trousers around his ankles. 




Warden: Has this man been properly dazed and confused senior officer?



Senior officer: Aye, he has been duly twirled around.



Warden: Has he been tripped over and shoved three times senior officer?



Senior officer: Aye, he has been tripped thricefold and thereupon he was rolled around the ground.



Warden: Has his shirt been properly stolen and the buttons from his trousers duly removed?



Senior warden: Aye It has all taken place as so ordained.



Senior officer: And the shirt has been duly sacrificed?



Warden: It has.



Senior Officer: And the buttons thus scattered to the four corners of the globe?



Warden: (throws the buttons which he was holding behind his back into a corner of the room) Yes.



Senior Officer: It is well done. (addressing the man with the plastic bag on his head) You are here of your own free will are you not?



Man with the bag on his head (muffled): Yes. 



Senior Officer: And it is your fervent desire to join the trouser knights?



Man with the bag on his head: Yes.



Senior Officer: Do you swear to uphold the majesty of the order of the trousers in all you say and do and to always be willing to give up your trousers if a brother knight is found in greater need of trousers than yourself?



Man with the bag on his head: I am.



Senior officer: What has happened to your own trousers? Why are you wearing them at half mast?



Warden whispers the words to the Man with the bag on his head who then repeats them: In mourning for the death of the master-tailor.



Senior officer: Why was the master tailor killed?



Man with the bag on his head: For keeping the secret of the sacred stitches.



Senior officer: And how will you recognise a true brother knight?



Man with the bag on his head: By examining his trousers.



Senior officer: And you will be on your guard in the company of the profane, namely: men who wear shorts, gentlemen of a female persuasion and the Scottish. You must never reveal the secrets of our order. The penalty for doing so will be to have your bobbins removed, your piping unstitched, your gusset hewn out and your cloth and trimmings burnt as off-cuts unworthy of the Master draper. Do you thus swear to protect the secrets of the order and accept the just penalties?



Man with the bag on his head: I do.



Senior officer (to assistant tailor): You may remove the bag of ignorance.



The bag is removed from the man’s head, as the bag is removed he is presented with a new pair of trousers.



Senior officer: These are the trousers of a true knight of our order. You will be known to your brothers in them and likewise your brothers will be known to you. Put them on and join us as a fully initiated Knight of the trouser!


The men line up to form a human tunnel. Cheers and clapping as The Man wriggles free of his old trousers smiling and puts on the new trousers.




Senior officer: Now you are ready to be tested as a knight of our order. All Knights undergo hardships and trials in their pursuit of the true knowledge of the Great Tailor in the sky. Your first trail as an apprentice tailor will be the pressings!


The man is led through the human tunnel and his face changes to uncertainty and then terror as he is beaten roughly on the bottom as he goes through the human tunnel.




Senior officer: Now we shall begin the business of the lodge as we welcome our newest Tailor to take his place in your ranks. The man takes a seat which is shows to him while nursing his bottom.


The Grand-Master stands up. 




Grand-Master: Gentlemen, we are faced with a deadly danger to our noble profession.



Murmurs There are people out there members of the poorly tailored profane rabble, who would come between us and our ultimate work: The tailoring of mankind. I say this to all the gentlemen here and I say this also to all the invisible amorphous ageless beings who have watched and helped us with our great work for the past 5 thousand years, I say this, we have never been closer to achieving our goal than as we are right now! Never before have so many people been so easily reachable by our instruments and never before have these people been under the illusion that it is their free-will which directs them to do as we bid them. 



Never before has there been so little resistance to us and never before has there been so much dependence on us. The time of ripeness is at hand, and we shall soon harvest the fruit of this Earth for our masters of a bounty and richness never before known. Our Great-Dressmaker in the sky will measure us all out our due rewards if we succeed. But should we fail. I need not tell you of the instruments which our even handed and fair minded master has at his disposal. The needle, the seam-ripper and the pinking shears await each and every one of us in the great haberdashery in the sky when we will be called to account for measuring up short. 



Imagine a pin-cushion, each pin a prick of the conscience for everything we could have done better for his and our plan to succeed. So think of the pin-cushion gentlemen. This will be your fate should you in any way fall short in your zeal to conclude our business on Earth for our Master. The eternal stabbing on and on, relentless thrusting into your very soul. 



But enough, let us not clog our spirits with fear of the consequences of our failure when we are so close to success, and that is a testimony to your ceaseless efforts in your diverse fields of endeavour. The Grand Master gestures to a particular group of people in the chamber. 



You scientists for instance. Your work has been seamless, on the one hand you have managed to control even reality itself for these untailored people. What they think they know about this world, WE have told them. Yet what we have not told them and what they may suspect may exist of the spirit world, we have told them squarely DOES NOT EXIST. This includes the very existence of our Master and his amorphous ageless eternal servants themselves, so they are assailed at all sides by us. By the spiritual warriors of our Master who daily plague them with a thousand suspicions, terrors and uncertainties by their subtle arts of temporary possession, and by our scientists who tell them there is nothing to be afraid of in the dark, when indeed THERE IS. 



And for that matter, also tells them that there is no one who can save them in the light, when indeed, again THERE IS. We have totally disarmed the population of the one weapon we cannot fight against, and in fact, we have mostly turned them against their very benefactor. 


Turning to another group in the room.
 And you, representing the forces of the media have been our very voice. Whispering calamity, incessantly, constantly. Befuddling and vexing the profane masses until they are nothing but reflex machines which can be controlled and studied at will with a perfect degree of accurate prediction. You indulge them in unattainable dreams and fantasies on one hand, then bring them their penance with daily murder and violence. You have taught the world to dream the nightmares we bring them. You drug them into a stupor of despair by six o’clock, and then you enroll them in our vision of the world. The brutality, the death, theft avarice. THE DRAMA! What a word! How hungrily the sheep chomp down the poisoned herbage with relish. We give them drama, turmoil, confusion, and ultimately, pain. You have brought their minds low with pain and misery which they internalise as their own and they are ready for us now to take to the final stage.



Man at the back: Whispering to another man What’s all this got to do with tailoring? I only joined because I thought this was some kind of dress-making hobby clubs. I wanted to learn to make clothes.



Other man at the back: It’s only a metaphor! 



Man at the back: If I’d known it was only a metaphor I would have stayed at home the evenings instead of getting involved in all this world domination stuff.



Other man at the back: Well it’s a bit late for that now isn’t it? Didn’t you cotton on that that’s what this was all really about?



Man at the back: Well, I just kind of tuned it out and hoped one week we’d all start learning to make clothes. Besides, the dinners are nice.



Other man at the back: Well you’re in now to the bitter end.



Man at the back: Oh come on, it’s not that serious.



Other man at the back: It IS, it’s deadly serious. Did you not remember the penalties you agreed to if you neglected your fellow tailors?



Man at the back: That was the only bit I really enjoyed, all the talk of stitches and gussets, I thought we were getting somewhere at last.



Other man at the back: Shh, he’s looking this way, better keep it to yourself.



Man at the back: No why should I? I have a right to express myself, I don’t care if he calls himself Master Whatsit, I’ve never feared no man.



Master TailorGesturing to the men at the back You men at the back! No doubt planning fresh intrigues to help us on our way. I do not recall your professions at present, tell the assembly what activity you have recently been doing that we may share and compare. 



Other man at the back whispering: Now you’ve done it!



Man at the back: I’m not scared standing up Er, well, I was just discussing with my friend here how I’d wish we learned more about clothes making than all this other stuff we always talk about every week.


Other man at the back quickly standing up
: No, that’s not true your Master, it was him who was discussing it and I was telling him to shut up. It’s nothing to do with me sir, it’s all his idea.



Man at the back: Yeah, that’s right. I only joined because I like clothes and thought that you’d teach me how to make them. And dinners too of course. I like the dinners. Nervous Laughter



Master tailor: Ahh, you like clothes and dinners indeed. Well, what is your name?



Man at the back: Trevor.



Master tailor: And what is your trade? 



Trevor: I am a taxi driver.



Master tailor: Well Trevor, so I expect you’d like me to personally teach you how to make clothes is that it? (laughter)



Trevor: If it isn’t too much trouble your Master. 



Master tailor suppressing a grin: Well MasterTrevor, I think we may have a little job for you to do, after which I will personally teach you all there is to know about making clothes. Does this appeal to you?



Trevor: Yeah!



Master Tailor slyly: Goooood!

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I'm on FIRE with dat TROOF.

I'm on FIRE with dat TROOF.
Kundalini refugee doing a bit of landscaping.