Gentlemen of SATA,

I have a request and if you can provide the needed information, I'll gladly make a 'donation' ($$) to your sobriety. The Sorority KAPPA DELTA has on its membership pin the letters AOT. The letters not only represent words, but mean something to KDs.

If you can tell me EXACTLY what AOT is and means, I will cheer your names and tell great tails of your exploits. So far, no one has come close to what AOT means.  I can be reached by Carrier Pidgeon or at: CelticCross@email.com.

Thanks and farewell!!

Sir Robert"

Dear Gojira,

When will all the new mind-control devices currently being used by paramilitary black-ops and space aliens become available to the rest of us? Ebay is worthless, and even my underground market sources are coming up empty.

Signed, Mastoid Koff"

"Science, which as we all know is the bane of our existence as spiritual beings, has provided us with varying types of evil--one of which is the Preservative. The function of preservatives is to keep our foods (such as Twinkies and other meats) fresh, even after the passage of hundreds of years. In the near future, this will help us keep foodstuffs ripe during those long flights through the cold, cold reaches of space, just as salt helped preserve pork aboard pirate ships during the golden age of seafaring.

I do not mean to confuse the masses here, so let me draw a comparison to the Heretics of the Middle Ages. The Benedictine Monks, whose jellies we enjoy to this day, devoted themselves to living in poverty, as they believed Jesus had done. (In fact, it is from Benedictine & his Monks that we get the phrase 'Hey, were you born in a barn?' Today this most often takes the form of a taunt, directed at a person who might carelessly leave a door ajar or who, upon ceasing regular baths, begins to smell like a steaming Goat Custard, but back in the day this phrase was received, usually followed by a slap on the shoulder and a reverent 'Thankee, Brother!', as a compliment that one was behaving in a Christ-like manner.) Down the years, other orders & upstarts perverted this idea just so they could throw rocks (etc.) at passing priests. These 'rock-throwers' were then branded, by the priests, as 'Heretics' and promptly burned at the stake. (I'm glossing over a lot of politics here, but you get my point.) And though it might be quick to conclude this is just another example of 'The Man' keeping 'Us' down (and you might well be within your rights!), be aware that a lot of these 'heretics' were in fact nothing more than knuckleheads who deserved what was coming to them.

Anyway, the Benedictines were essentially right. How many times, late at night and gripped by a Starbucks-induced fit of insomnia have you turned on the tube only to see some Televangelical Asshole totally turning you off of religion as he flashes his rings and begs for your own hard-earned squab? I mean, if God not only wants your money but has sanctioned a guy with hair like that to ask for it… Ready to throw a rock (etc.), aren't you? The Heretic of yesterday is but the Televangelist of today.

But before I get off topic, let me get to the matter of how abstinence preserves the host. Well, I have to admit, what you're really asking is a matter of Transubstantiation, a technical term in Catholicism that boils down to 'You Are What You Eat.' In terms of preserving the host, this is a two-step process. First, as described above, Science assures us that the Host handed to us by our respective Holy Man, be he frocked or feathered (for God does not differentiate between Priests and Witch Doctors the way some Doctrinal Politicians do--transubstantiation, as recognized by the Spiritually Enlightened, is above such dogma), is not stale. And while the Wonders of Science may provide us with a crisp, flaky and moisture-free Host, the rest is up to us.

As the Host does its Spiritual Work within our bodies, it is up to us to compliment that work with a healthy dose of Abstinence--just as aspirin thins the blood and reduces the risk of heart attack. Thus, you can go for longer and longer periods of time without undergoing communion, which in today's modern Church, really is comprised of too much time and too much hocus-pocus. After all, I'm a huge Packers fan, and if I can't get home in time to drink at least one icy Corona during the pre-game show, the rest of the game is just seems somehow pointless. Why, for this very reason, I've not set foot in a church in I-don't-know-how-long! (Even during the off-season!) But oy vey do I love that Benedictine Jelly!

Your Friend (Not Fiend!)
(Brother) Gojira"

Can you please tell me why I always buy more stuff than I need when I go into Wal-Mart?

Lucy Moran"

My point is this. One of the great joys of opening the cartons and stocking the shelves was the thrill of seeing the new products. You know how much fun it is to get a surprise package in the post, don't you? Well, imagine getting a surprise package every day! And couple that (if you'll pardon my French) with the fun of keeping a secret--for I was seeing the new products many hours before anyone else! In that world before each Golden Dawn, I lived with the secret and private knowledge of what new wonders the shopping experience would bring to those first Consumers, who would soon begin beating on the front doors. What power! (A reminder of those halcyon days sits on my desk, still. It is an unopened can--the very first I removed from the carton, of course--of Imitation Chicken Vienna Sausages. I proudly use it as a paperweight, now that all the fluid has finally leaked out of the can's swollen bottom.)

That is, until everything went wrong. One day, in my opening, (opening OF BOXES, that is) I stumbled across a new brand of snack crackers called 'Quackers.' You can imagine, these were 'Goldfish' oyster cracker knock-offs--crackers in the shape of ducks, rather than goldfish. Get it? Not that oyster crackers look like oysters, anymore than you probably are named after that silly squeaky-voiced receptionist character in the television show 'Twin Peaks.' And it was then that I realized--Doesn't this garbage taste the same, no matter if it's in the shape of a duck, or a fish, or a three-toed sloth? Why should we, as Human Beings, be forced to stand believing we are making profound character choices by way of our Product Preferences, our last vestige of rugged individualism in a world of Imbedded Consumerism, when in reality we aren't even making choices at all! It's all the same shit, and The Man is wasting our time! And laughing about it! Don't we have better things to do?

It reminds me of the last time I was in a strip club (I believe it was Rocco's, in Atlanta GA--and don't fear, Fellow Abstainers, for I had gone in there to preach the SATA gospel, I assure you). In this particular establishment, as in hundreds of others across the galaxy, the men were all staring in rapt attention at the stage, despite the fact that every girl in the joint looked like a junkie albino. But I respected those men. Though I did not agree with the sick and depraved reason they were glued (literally) to their seats, I respected them because they were all there for exactly the same reason. And no matter to what fevered heights I might raise my preaching and witnessing, I could not distract those men, those Purposed Men.

So, Lucy, the answer to your question is: Because you are a Sucker. And the lesson is: Stay Focused. This is, in fact, the primary rule of abstinence. Without Focus, you will become Blurred, and therefore Damned, mere fodder for the Fiend! And then where will you be?

Your friend (not Fiend!)
Gojira"

Why are oyster crackers called oyster crackers?

Crackers"

At the Beginning of the Universe, the Holy Father (hereafter-no pun intended-referred to as HF) created everything. On that we can agree. Now, creating everything is a quite a job, no argument there either. But what's worse comes after-keeping track of Everything. Especially once the Universe was set in motion and things started jigging and frugging about, intertwining and recombining and generally making a huge mess out of the single perfect moment of Creation, Ol' HF realized he had a real task ahead of him.

Back in those days, there were no accountants. So to simplify and clarify matters, HF Named everything, and wrote these Names down in a gigantic Book. This Book is the size of Jupiter (the planet, not the God) and the Title of the Book is a secret, but it contains the Names for everything you can imagine, of all things that have been, all things that are, and all things that will be, and so forth. And these are the Names we use (or are supposed to use) in everyday street language in order to communicate with each other. HF chose and allocated these Names very carefully, and they contain, in Heirophonic code (yes, it's a sacred word, and don't ask me to explain because I won't) not only distinctive clues about the True Holy Nature of all the objects in Creation, but (and now listen carefully) instructions as to how to achieve that Nature.

Now, every time you use a Name for something that is not that thing's Name (are you with me?) you are essentially stabbing God in the back. Which, as far as I understand it, is a Sin. You see, it is our Holy Purpose, to Be what we Are. We've all heard the Aesop fable about the Acorn growing into a big-ass Rubber Tree which is then knocked down by an Ant, right? Well, that's really a cleverly disguised cautionary tale about how The Fiend will defeat you and take your soul if you don't remain true to the Nature which the HF bestowed upon thou at Creation. Another good example from children's literature is Popeye; he always says 'I am what I am.' (And notice that Popeye actually does have one eye which is larger than the other.) And then he beats the shit out of Bluto. For final confirmation, let's look to the Christian Bible, one of the greatest anthologies of Children's Literature ever. Here, when God talks to Moses, and Moses asks for his name, God speaketh: 'I am that I am.' Just like Popeye! (Only God didn't beat the shit out of Moses.) Other religions, like Zen Buddhism, also have the same kind of goal in mind. Call it Enlightenment or Nirvana, whatever-these things just prove that I am right.

So not only should we strive to seek our own Potential, we should help other people and things achieve their Potential by referring to them in the correct manner. And in this manner does the Universe seek to right itself back to the original order and perfection of Creation. This might or might not be impossible, but still we have to try, or else pay the piper. I mean, who wants to be uprooted by an Ant? That is why we must call each other by our proper Names.

Thus: Oyster crackers are not made of oysters. They are just crackers. This unfortunate name is an example of the workings of The Fiend in our everyday lives and it confuses both you and the crackers. Lots of people use them for soup, so it's okay to call them soup crackers, but even better just to call them 'Those Little Hexagon-Shaped Crackers That Other People Call Oyster Crackers.' This way you communicate your knowledge about the Proper Functioning of the Universe, and I think making this distinction will really get you off the hook in the Afterlife. Good Luck!

Your Friend (Not Fiend!),
Gojira"

What is your take on all these new sex vitamins like Viagra and Olean? Is it something that will help me get chicks? Hell, that's what I need, so sign me up for a case! I've tried all those books, like 'How to Pick Up Women,' but that just got my face slapped and quite frankly, that's not where a girl should slap me to get me off. I tried Spanish Fly, but that just made me vomit, which also got my face slapped. I am tired of sitting at home on Friday nights and watching the watered-down porno on the Spice Channel. Please help me, please, and thank you.

Signed, Geraldo Rivera"

"Do you people know how many letters like this I get per day? It would alarm the teeth right out of your head. And quite frankly, let's think about this--Viagra (and those like it) is a substance, the idea of which undermines completely the underminings of SATA--Abstinence. Let's all, for a moment, think about sex.

Done? Good. See how much time that took? If you were committed to Abstinence, you would be home by now! Impotence is nature's way of telling us, Hey Buddy, time to Abstain. And Viagra (the Fiend's Work!) is yet another of science's fucking attempts (no pun intended) to thwart the call of nature. Just like Tang and Grape Nuts, these substances enter our bodies and make irreparable changes.

I am reminded of my first job, working for the City of Atlantis, Texas as the Bug Man in summertime. That's right--I was the guy who drove the truck every other evening at dusk, spraying a dense mist of chemical vapors, with the intent of destroying the indigenous mosquito population. The children would bound from their homes, summoned by the ice-cream-truck bell I had mounted on the roof of my truck, and collect behind me as I drove extra-slowly through the crooked suburban avenues, rendered all but invisible by the thick folds of the poisonous cloud emanating from my vehicle. 'Fogman! Fogman!' they would sing-song in unison as they played Catch-Up, dancing and playing behind me; occasionally I would catch a glimpse, in my side-view mirror, of a wagging stray arm or twitching leg. Oh, those happy, happy days.

I don't know what happened to those children. But I know what happened to Atlantis, Texas. You see, I had just graduated from Miskatonic with a degree in Pharmacology, and thought I knew a thing or two. I would take the chemical mixture given to my by the city and, well, tweak it. Let's examine this formula:

       S               A                vR2
I =  ------- < ------------  =  -----------
      ln 2      4L2p ln 2       L2p ln 2

What this means, in Layman's Terms, is that I screwed up. Last I heard, Atlantis was a ghost town, an uninhabitable village, and has even been removed from modern maps. (Sharing a fate with its Undersea Brother Nation--oh, the irony!) The problem is this--the concoction which I sprayed did indeed have an effect on the local insect population, specifically crickets, spiders, and some scorpions. It did not kill them, but rather mutated them, generations down the line, into beasts 2000 times the size of a normal insect. Now, so I am told, they hold their own secret meetings in tunnels they have dug beneath the deserted downtown streets, where they plot an eventual uprising against neighboring villages.

And if you think this has nothing to do with Viagra, think again. What do you Men think is happening down in the fragile ecosystem of your testicles, each time you consume a Viagra? The same kind of poisoning, that's what! Imagine the changes being wrought upon your sleepy, unwilling spermatozoa! There's no telling what varieties of hideous bohemians your wives may begin to gestate and eventually spawn as a result of this unnatural tampering! So heed our clarion call--Abstain today!

Your friend (not Fiend!)
Gojira"

Meanwhile, the issue being lost in the shuffle is that of Tasteful Discourse. Every night during the impeachment proceedings, I had to turn on the Evening News and hear Dan Rather describe 'the cum-stained dress' or see Peter Jennings demonstrate how Madame Lewinsky 'rotated the cigar gently into her snatch'. This language leaves nothing to the imagination! I do not watch the news to hear brutal affronts such as this. Like all others, I watch the news to see exciting footage of car crashes and racially inspired rioting. I hope Chroniclers of History will be more discreet when they pen their gradeschool textbooks, and employ terms such as 'Gentleman's Relish' to describe the Presidential Jizm, or tell how Madame Lewinsky 'took an oral exam' rather than flat-out tell us how she 'licked his cock.' This language is frankly disgusting! It must be corrected! Don't you Fiends know there are children watching??

But, back to basics. Of course the President should have been impeached! How else can we impart unto History a lesson from which our Aforementioned Children may learn? (You must realize how badly hurt and victimized all of us here at SATA were over these matters; Gem-Ma worked overtime counseling us. God Bless You, Gem-Ma!) Behavior such as this, it should go without saying, is an affront against all governing principles of Abstinence, and if we hope, as we do, to make it the wave of the Future, there can be no other course of action but to make not only an example, but a mockery of this man and his Actions (and others likewise). I know I am not alone when I suggest that impeachment proceedings of the Future call for the Perpetrator In Question to be stripped of all power and influence, material possessions, and financial credit. He should then be disrobed, whipped, disemboweled, and finally the Speaker of the House should cut out his heart, soak it in brandy, and eat it--live on National Television.

It is the only way. To realize Live TV as the medium which can cleanse and liberate us is a measure in precautionary punishment that is long, long overdue. For over 50 years we have been misusing television for mawkish sitcoms, divisive sporting matches, and pornographic medical dramas that only accelerate the deep distrust we intrinsically have for our Fellow Men. We must work to bring ourselves closer together, and that can easily be done by witnessing and participating in the punishment of others who exhibit deviant behavior. That we can communicate our Sins, immediately and internationally, and offer swift retribution against Offenders should provoke in all of us chaste practices, and therefore Blissful Unity.

As for Madame Lewinsky, and those like her, she should be absolutely Forgiven. As a member of the Weaker Sex, I have no doubt that Squire Clinton mesmerized her in some fashion (probably with the use of some shiny talisman on a string, though he may have utilized suggestive hand motions and low moaning as well) and that, having no Free Will, she is in no way to blame for any of this. In fact, I propose a benediction whereby she get her own Variety Show, showcasing each day a Deviance Court where punishments are exacted as I describe above. Each day could be themed, like 'Embezzlement Day' or 'Sodomy Day' and Madame Lewinsky could don an appropriate costume. (As a general rule, I think appearing on television is the best way for Victims to expunge their pain—don't you agree?

Again, if we hope to stand up and be counted among the masses of History, we must not tarry in our purpose. The means have been in our hands for decades now. Let the Eye of Television be our Guardian Angel in this era of technological advancement—an Angel whose blessings and punishment be equal in force, an Angel who shall eliminate no-one from judgement! Praise be to Abstinence!

Your Friend (Not Fiend!)
Gojira"