The Discordian Construction Company was established in the distant past (note to self: find the date of founding) as an outgrowth of divine revelation in regards to Saints, their mysterious ways and the Need, the absolute Need to build a road to heaven based on these Holy Things.
Within the warm womblike, not tomblike embrace of the Chaostic Taber-Nickle of Discordia, the Most Very Reverend Pope, Holy and Holy Smoked Saint Ben-Hur Sturgeon reflected upon the nonsensical canon surrounding Saints of Discordia, became even more confused, nay shall we say even PO'd at spending inordinate amounts of time thinking on such strange things. Just at that moment came the Infestation. Guliks of every shape and size gathered from the nooks and crannies of his mind, skittered out his ears and began to fill the room, chanting, " The road to Hell is Paved in Good Intentions!" From the previously unmarked speakers that somehow (magically?) appeared came the AC/DC song, "Highway to Hell".
In Light CementEdit
Why so many references to roads and highways? Why did they all lead to Hell? Just what was going on?
Wrong materials, inferior materials within the Glorious Intra-State System of Eris. Roads lead to Hell. Streets lead to heaven. Roads abbreviated are rd. Highways abbreviated to Hwy. Clearly, not helpful in reaching heaven. But Streets, Streets my fine feathered friends abbreviate to St., the same abbreviation for Saint. All Streets are Saints and All Saints are Streets. St.= St. One must become Paved to get to the Kingdom of Heaven, the All and None of Nirvana, the chirpy, sorta swell place that all aspire. In that moment, the Most Very Reverend Pope, Holy and Holy Smoked Saint Ben-Hur Sturgeon became In Light Cemented.
Glorious Incorporation and the Great WorkEdit
Pavement! Construction! A foundation of stone not sand! The ideas coalesced like grease in the kitchen sink, causing ribbons of dirty crude amidst the sparkle of clean lemon-scented bubbles of the cleaning solution. St. Ben-Hur now also Ben-Hur St. saw the possibilities, the complexities and the confusion inherent in his new idea.
Realizing the tremendous amount of data that needed to compiled, the loose ends that needed to be tied, the reams of opinion papers that would need to be written and the immense personal commitment of time and energy on his part, St. B-Hur realized that this gig was not for him. He felt he was best utilized as the idea guy, the spiritual entrepreneur. He quickly went about looking for the successor to this, the next really big thing.
He found Pope Titus Vespasianovich Barnum the Tilted, an anal compulsive, border-grey, border-cabbage that would get so wrapped in this, that he would cause spiritual, mental and physical pain to those that would even try to argue against it. Pope Titus Vespasianovich Barnum the Tilted followed the rules, or made the rules or interpreted the rules, even though he knew that Eris cared not a fig, nor even a pomegranate for any of it.
The two met on a cold day in February, in the year, well can’t quite remember the year but it was before now. Sainted Pope Sturgeon tried as best he could to explain the Spiritual Revelation that had pervaded his head like the fumes of some menthol-heavy cold salve inserted in his nose. Pope Titus Vespasianovich Barnum the Tilted understood. Within just a few moments, just before Mofasisbro Ben-Hur lost his attention span, Pope Titus Vespasianovich Barnum the Tilted summarized the vision and then formulated a plan. Pope B-H smiled and ambled away, believing his work was done.
Pope Titus Vespasianovich Barnum the Tilted was organized. He knew he was special in Her Plans, as his imposition of order would lead to glorious chaos. First would come the incorporation. But Discordian incorporations were not so much establishing a business identity as it was to bring in the discorporate spirits, entities and emotismokes that would etherically, astrally and realitically strengthen the Discordian Construction Company. It was High Magic.
High upon a lonely spur of rock, jutting from a mountain, Pope Titus Vespasianovich Barnum the Tilted
got high, did High Magic and lo, the shadows stretched and spread over the valley below, the deep vrooms of the machines, as their totally modified engines pushed the RPM’s almost past the ability of humans to endure. Racing engines, hot exhaust fumes and the smell of pavement, all types of pavement, well-done, over-easy, poached and tarred, to mention a few filled the air. Pope T felt just like Robert Duvall in that Viet Nam movie. “I love the smell of construction in the morning.” He was where he belonged.
The Building ProcessEdit
Construction TrailerEditThe nerve center of this bustling enterprise was the Construction Trailer.
Typically, and rarely does it proceed typically, a person, entity, nation or PTA group will file a Petition for Intervention by the Discordian Construction Company. A Notice of Public Hearing is posted and discussions are held. If it's a good thing then we all SPIT, prepare a Spiritual Physical Improvement Task list. The DCC will typically send out surveyors to get the lay of the land, the forum, the wiki, or just to get laid.