It turns out that I have a soft spot for old poems, sparked off by finding some fragments of Patrick Barrington's work from Punch magazine in the 1930's. In the interests of upgrading the web, I posted what I knew on the old poetry website :

http://oldpoetry.com/authors/Patrick%20Barrington

--
Omar

Date:	2004-06-13 01:50
Subject:
Security:	Public
Mood:	mischievous

Apparently I'm not the first reverse hive mind (from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monty_Cantsin):

"Monty Cantsin is a multiple identity that anyone can adopt, but has close ties to Neoism.

"The name was coined in 1978 by the critic, prankster and Mail Artist David Zack as a nom de plume for the Latvian-born poet and singer Maris Kundzins. The name also alludes to Martial Canterel, the wizard-hero of Raymond Roussel's novel "Locus Solus", and to the Californian performance artist Monte Cazzazza. It can further be read as a pun on "Monty can't sing" and, in allusion to religious free spirit movements which collectively adopted the names of Jesus Christ or saints, "Monty can't sin". Zack intended Monty Cantsin to be an "open pop star" and, in a philosophy anticipating that of free software, open source, allow anyone to perform in his name to augment and share his achievements and fame.

"Zack's call upon to adopt the name Monty Cantsin was heard in 1979 by the Hungarian-Canadian performance artist Istvan Kantor who amalgamated the name into Neoism. As the shared identity of all Neoists, Monty Cantsin was transformed from a "pop star" to a radical identity experiment occupying the everyday life of Neoists and culminating in frequently extremist ways at Neoist Apartment Festivals ("APTs"). Still, the open pop star concept lived on in a series of electropop and industrial music albums and performances of, mainly, Istvan Kantor.

"Later multiple names like Karen Eliot, Luther Blissett and Michael K drew inspiration from Monty Cantsin and Neoism, but intentionally avoided to be associated with physical persons, being conceived either as mere signatures (Eliot) or a collective media phantoms (Blissett, K)."

All this Neoism and Situationism seems to fit together pretty well with Discordianism in general, though Discordianism is more of a religion (or a joke disguised as a religion...or a religion disguised as a joke?) while Neoism and Situationism seem to be post-modern art/political movements. It's a shame that they had to occasionally take themselves seriously.

Omar is a member of Orkut.com. Become his friend! Use this patronage for political advantage! Advance in your job! Watch the money role in! All this is more could be true, if you became a friend of Omar!

"I became a friend of Omar and now I'm King of the World!" - A satisfied customer.

Become a friend of Omar, Today!



Also, Timecarrot.tk: Now with superficial changes!

As I wander the streets of this fine city, in search of the answers to questions not yet asked, I've been flipping payphones over. Not the whole payphone mind you, with the actual phone bit. Try it, its fun! And, if you happen to see a flipped phone, you can think "OKR was here..."*
-OKR


*or, you could not. Really, its up to you.

After the proud and true nationstates nation of Omarnia sank into the sea, the survivors of this fine nation have begun again, rebuilding with Omarnia II! The password is icecream.

Date:	2003-12-22 11:13
Subject:	Some Trouble
Security:	Public
Mood:	aggravated

I had some trouble this weekend but I was able to come out on top with the help of some Omar's from alternate dimensions, including Robot Omar, CEO Omar, Monkey Omar, Iron Omar, and Ninja Omar. But now they refuse to go back to their alternate dimensions! Keep drinking all my coffee...

But enough about me! Have a Reverse Hive Mind Holiday Season from everybody here at Omar K. Ravenhurst inc. esquire!

SERVANT TO THE HOTTNESS:


(I'm the one that's the servant.)

Also, I have it on good information that both myself and my assistant, The Sour Savior, are capable of relaying any sort of information to the right authorities in regards to the webby site.

Oh yes, the Omar K. Ravenhurst website is back on the air waves. We can totally find it at www.timecarrot.tk. This is exactly the old version, but do not have any worries! I will be updating Omar's site, hupfully with some assistance in the aesthetic prinipals, since I am pretty much only talented at the technical side of things (which is more than I can say about Omar, based on reading his code. Oy!). Anyway, for all of you who were wondering when we would have it back, now you know.

Also, Ozy and Millie is one of the most excellently subsversive things that I read in these past few weeks. Toodles, all.

I had the great joy of having my brothers visit me this weekend. They always remind me of the joys of being amazingly clever and intelligent. Theres an amazing comfort in being surounded by the people who have the excact same sense of humor that you do.

So one of my housemates came out with no shirt on and he says "I just found out that the greatest military battle of history was won on MY birthday!" He thinks he's really cool because he quit smoking pot to join the CIA and because he likes to sit around the kitchen in his boxers. So he's babbling something about Hannible and killing Romans and August 2nd, and generally I'm just ignoring him.

Someone says "how could they possibly know what date Hannible beat the Romans? That was, like, over 2 thousand years ago!" "WELL! They just KNOW!" is the response. At this point my 13 year old brother says "How could Hannible have done anything on August 2nd if Augustis wasn't born at that point?" We all turn to my shirtless housemate expectantly. "well..... they just do..... they have proof."

Yeah...... treated by a middle schooler..... take your undergraduate degree and shove it !!!

I love my brother.

There are no yeti's in bolivia. Just so that you all are clear on that one subject. There are no yeti's in bolivia.

Date:	2003-08-15 14:10
Subject:	news update
Security:	Public
Mood:	working

greetings friends !   a number of things are occuring these days, some of which are important, some of which are interesting, very few of which are both.

I recently joined a Yahoo group for the Boston MOB project.  if you don't know about the Flash Mob, i recomend this link:
http://www.cheesebikini.com/blog/archives/000261.html#000261
there was a flash mob in Harvard Square a couple weeks back. Keep your eyes out for more Maybe I'll meet you at one. You never know.

I have slowly been trying to put together a mailing list that could be used for organizing Hive Mind stuff.  Like lets say I wanted to have a party, and wanted to invite everyone who is part of or friends of the Hive Mind (wouldn't that be weird) I would want to be able to to get in touch with people.  To do this, I've been asking random people on AIM if they will add their e-mail address..... as you can imagene this is even slower going than trying to convert people by going door to door.  so if you have a desire to be part of this, and you have not already spoken to me (or your name is Katie, b/c I lost your address in a crashing of my computer) please send me an e-mail and I'll add you.

This comes out of a feeling that my popularity is not growing fast enough.  How many people do you think read my journal on a regular basis?? Not enough as far as I'm concerned...... we should work on this.  If you are reading this right now, you are hereby responsible to find one more person to read this journal.  there.  That should double readship.

And on a related not there is a thought floating around in my head about the possibility of getting a paypal account associated with the Hive Mind.  I've been talking to some friends of mine who I think might be able to help me out with this.  This would enable donations, which could fund things like a real server for the website possibly.

thoughts ??? I'd love to hear them.  Good thoughts are like fine wine to me, please bring some when you come to dinner at my place.

Date:	2003-08-14 09:58
Subject:
Security:	Public
Mood:	rushed

Recently I've noticed that summer is too sticky. The easiest way to transport goods is in a backpack, and the summer does not make me want to play the backpack game. I hate when things I own stick to me. Oh, don't get me wrong, summer is enjoyable and all, but the fact that carrying things with me is difficult and that wearing headphones on a long walk is irksome makes summer less plesant. But then, I don't think that's summer's job. Maybe I could pay it to not make things stick. How would you pay off a season?

Gang tags. Thoughts? Comments?

I was thinking that I should start tagging all of the many places that I visit. It would be quite interesting to go places and see that I had been there before while inside of a different mind. Sort of like the "Kilroy was here" of the WW2 U.S. army. The pattern I was thiking of is some sort of amusing picture, possibly with words, followed by a simple initialing by me. (O.K.R.).

Sparypaint is not neccesary, sharpees work just as well. (Gee, it is easy to think of these things when one can brainstorm with one's self.)

The other day, when I was making my merry way down the street, I came upon what appeared to be a delightfull little cafe, filled with people talking and drinking fine black coffee. Finding this scene quite enjoyable, I decided to step instead, if only for a moment. Unfortinatly, the moment I stepped inside I found that this was not the idealic cafe I had hoped for, but instead a dangerous and cowardly trap! I only just escape from the whirling saw blades and falling weights with my life and a cup of excellent coffee. Now, I know not who set up this dastardly trap since there are many candidates who could it could possibly be.

Candidate #1: Dr. X
Description: Dr. X, my evil creature, has never fully gotten over the fact that I escaped his clutchs and still tries to capture me so he may use my powers for evil.
Most Daring Scheme Yet: An army of small robots disguised as armchairs.
Favorite Color: Green

Candidate #2: Johnny Technocrat
Description: Johnnies' not really that much of a technocrat, but no matter. He and I have faced each other on several occasions. I think I got rid of him this time, what with the elephants and the lamp shades, but thats what I thought after the volcano incident, and you all know how that turned out.
Most Daring Scheme Yet: Rewiring my refrigerator. That took forever to undo.
Favorite Food: Pork Chops

Candidate #3: Omar K. Ravenhurst
Description: I never know where this slippery fellow is going to pop up next. Its almost like he's everywhere. He keeps reading my e-mails and pretending to be me. So day I'll find him.
Most Daring Scheme Yet: Posting in my Livejournal
Least Favorite Cupcake: Tuna

Candidate #4: The Society of 4 and 3/4ths angry bulldozers.
Description: I have no idea what I did to make those bulldozers so angry. I suspect it has something to do with the 3/4ths bit. But I really don't know
Most Daring Scheme Yet: Running me over.
Favorite Music Genre: Polka

Candidate #5: The Great Majestico, purvayor of matchbox sized heresies and magic maker top class
Description: He's got this really great trick in which he shows you his empty hat and then proceeds to pull a rabit out it! Its really quite amazing. I didn't like the follow though when the rabbit attacked me. That made me sad.
Most Daring Scheme: The Disapearing Trick
Favorite Medieval Event: The Investiture Conflict

Besides these, there are thousands of random encounters that I experience everyday. With all this peril and danger in my everyday life, what can you, as an observor to my livejournal, do to help? Well, not much really. I must face these dangers myself. But if you really care, it might be nice if you'd make yourself known by sending me your e-mail adress, so I might inform you when your help could be used. ta-ta for now then! See you at next year's orchestral performance!


Todays Moral: If you really care about the well being of Omar, send him your e-mail so he can have a mailing list of people he can contact when he needs help, be it to organize an event, or to fight the forces of evil.

just created nytimes.com account.

username: time_carrot
password: icecream

I had the great excitment this past weekend of seeing a man on a segway. I was at a Kid's Carnival (there is nothing more chaotic that a moonwalk that deciedes to deflate with eight 4 year olds in it) and coming through the crowd was an older man on a segway. Now if you don't know what a segway is you are clearly out of the useless techniclogical gadgets loop. It's a moterized scooter with two wheels that you stand on, and when you lean forward it goes forward, and when you lean back it goes back.
The aparent fault with the segway, from my four minutes of observation, is that it can't stand still. The man was trying to talk to someone in the crowd and he kept having to lean forward and back like a tettertop. But when he decieded to move through the crowd it was a thing of grace.
Of course he was a top the segway so he appeared to float a couple inches about every ones heads. As the king rolled through the crowd there were fingers pointing and hushed voices of dad's saying "Look, it's a segway." and mothers replying "what is a segway?"
I caught with him by walking a little faster and then slowing down, and I said to the man "Your the talk of the town."
"It's not me," he replied proudly, "It's the segway."
damn, he was sure right.

http://www.cheesebikini.com/blog/archives/000261.html#000261

..... I swear I did not post the comment that reads "hail Eris" really it wasn't me.

Keep and eye out for more of this, I think it's something I want in on !

On stormy evenings like these, I like to lie back in my big chair in front of a roaring fire, smoke my bubble pipe, perhaps read a bit, and with violins playing ever so softly in the background, I think back on my long and bumpy past. In my many years in this plane of existence, I've done many things. I won't say that I don't regret some of them, but I wouldn't trade my memories for all the rice in maine (california, now thats a different story). On this particle night, my mind has wandered its back down the river of time to the spell I spent in the undercity of Great Cowtown.

I had come to the mean streets of cowtown as part of my long term plan to acquire the ownership of the Oceania (I planned to turn it into a huge canned fruit factory, but thats a story for another time). A few months ago one of my contacts had tipped me off to the existance of a certain artifact, a certain staff of Islandia, which when combined with the mummified hand of Julius Ceasar, would lead me to the owner of the fabled clerical error of John Smith, a document which contained proof that Oceania had been combined one plot of land, available for purchase from the British Royalty for a fee of two dollars. I already had the mummified hand of Julius Ceasar, having defeat Dan Quayle in arm to arm combat over it, and now I descended into the bowls of the earth and into Cowtown after the staff.

When I arrived in Cowtown, it was raining (yes, Cowtown is one hundred feet below the surface of the earth. Don't ask me how it rains, its very complicated and this is a reminence, not a science lesson). I trudged my way to the hotel I was staying in, the Hostile Army of People with Sharp Sticks (charming name, doncha think?), got a good nights sleep (well, good except for the ninja who attacked me at 4:52 and 34 seconds in the morning. But I dealt with him fairly quickly, so I didn't loose much sleep over it. Silly Ninjas, will they ever stop falling for the old television-lightbuld trick?) and was ready fresh and early in the morning to begin my search for the staff.

My first stop was the Cowtown University of Artifacts and Zen Icecream making. After fighting my way through several levels of buracracy, I found out that the staff had been filed someplace inside the FILING CABINENT OF DOOM!

Now, you may be thinking, how bad could a filing cabinent be? Well, I'll tell you, this one was quite a problem. Not only was it twenty feet tall and thirty feet wide, it extended out into the 5th dimension, was arranged fractally, and was the home to a family of evil, mutant, giant, superintelligent elk. All in all, it was the meanest office furniture I had ever seen. But I had to have my staff, so I put my vorpal butterknife +7 in my pocket, donned my official iron clad pope hat, steeled my knowledge of the dewey decimal system, and charged in.

Now, I won't bore you with the details of my decade long quests inside this thing, but I will share with you a few lessons I learned inside there:
1. Superintelligent evil elk develop a society with a very rigid class structure and quite powerfull centralized goverments, but it can be caused to collaspe into anarchy by making a few simple changes to their genetic code.
2. Fractal filing systems can be deciphered with a normal, everday slide rule and a working knowledge of chaos theory
3. Iron Clad Pope Hats make excellent distractions.
4. If you ever find yourself lost in the fifth dimension, taking lefts until you get out doesn't work. But taking rights does.
5. Vorpal butter knifes are lots and lots of fun.

My cake is about done, so I'm gonna have to finish up this story quickly. To sum it up, I got out of that filing cabinet with my staff after fourty years and found that only five minutes and 45 seconds had passed outside and by the time I left cowtown it has one fire, although I didn't have anything to do with that at all. I wasn't even nearby the place where the fire started and I certainly didn't set break holes into a pile of oil barrels, send them crashing down a flight of stairs into the face of the mafia hitmen who were following after me, set fire to the trails of oil they left behind them, and jump from the burning building into the river seconds before it collasped. No way.

Well, thats my story and I'm sticking to it. If you didn't like it, well then I'll guess you'll just have to blame me.