tThe list of countries and territories into which Mormons have sent their sons and daughters to preach their faith is very very long. Hard not to take this very seriously. Maybe that’s what they work so hard to make all that capitalist dough.

ADDENDUM: Just one of many available examples of the child sexual abuse that accompanies the very young age at which many Scientologist parents surrender their children to “Sea Org,” and other church organizations. (Grown women, as well as boys, are also subject to abuse.) But you can research these matters for yourself. The following should pique your curiosity though.

See also The Wings of the UniParty

For The RINO wing, go here. Password = RINO.

For all front pages, go here. 90% progressive NYT clones.

Addendum regarding Scientology:

Amoral, atheistic cults like this also have a long history, in part because of their rigid command-control hierarchies, of committing gross sexual offenses without remorse and often without much effort at concealment. *****See also The Scientology Cult

Long and short of it, the babe didn’t make it.

Once upon a time there was a baby.

It was worse than other babies. For
one thing, it was larger.

Its body was not merely obese, but
downright bloated.

One of its feet had too many toes,
and the other one not enough.

Its hands were both left ones.

Its nose was beaky, and appeared
to be considerably older than the
rest of it.

Its tiny eyes were surrounded by large
black rings due to fatigue, for its
guilty conscience hardly ever allowed
it to sleep.

It was usually damp and sticky for it
wept a grat deal. It was consumed
by self-pity, which it this case was
perfectly justified.

It was capable of making only two sorts
of noises, both of them nasty.

The first was a choked gurgling,
reminiscent of faulty drains. It made
this noise when it had succeeded in
doing something particularly atrocious.

The second was a thin shriek suggestive
of fingernails on blackboards. It made
this noise when it had been prevented from
doing something particularly atrocious.

Fortunately, it was unable to walk.

It had never been given a name since
no-one cared to talk about it. When it
was absolutely necessary to do so, it
was referred to as the Beastly Baby.

Dangerous objects were left about in the
hope that it would do itself an injury,
preferably fatal.

But it never did, and instead, hacked
up the carpets with knives.

Or burnt enormous holes in the upholstery
with acid.

Or shot bric-à-brac off the tables.

A day in the broiling sun had no other
effect than to turn it a horrid purple.

When it was taken bathing, it always
floated back to shore, festooned with
slimy green weed.

In public places some officious person
was certain to point out that it was
in danger of being left behind.

Inevitably, a policeman was looking on
whenever it was just about to be
momentarily set down on a doorstep.

In the meantime it grew larger and older
every day, and what this would
eventually lead to, no-one liked to think.

Then one day it was taken on a picnic.

It was set on an exposed ledge some
distance from where the food was.

A few minutes later, a passing eagle
noticed it there.

The eagle, having never before been
presented with this classic opportunity
carried it off.

The Eagle found keeping hold of it more
difficult than he had expected.

He attempted to get a further grip on it
with his beak.

There was a wet sort of explosion,
audible for several miles.

And that, thank heavens! was the end
of the Beastly Baby.

— Edward Gorey

Amphigorey Too

If tame is your cup of tea, go away now. Otherwise here’s how you can begin exploring the very involved and unexpected world of R. F. Laird. You can click on the graphics below to be transported to a relevant url. (You can return with the back button or the open file listings on your screen.) Other links are straight from text.

Here are a lot of his books:

Some on-line books are free elsewhere…

Laird on Trump

Instapunk on Cars

Click on the photos below for links to some major sites…

Here’s his 3,000-pg video game/puzzle/labyrinth called Shuteye Town 1999:

Here’s his massively hyperlinked fictional country, called Shuteye Nation:

Here’s the website that will tell you the most about R. F. Laird and his work:

Here are links to most of his blogs:

InstaPunk Returns (2018-Present, 125+ posts)
InstaPunk Rules (2014-2017, c.600 posts)
RFLaird.com (a.k.a Deerhound Diary, 2013-Present, c.500 posts)
InstaPunk.com (10 years of weekly archives at Wayback, c.2,500 posts 90+ percent intact)(sample single posts here)
Robert Laird @Facebook (2014-2019, 1,000+ posts, Scroll to read)[If you get the Newsfeed not the Main Page, click on the helmet icon to the left of “What’s on your mind?”]

Here are links to some of his other websites:

My Selfies (Spoof site also includes a sampler of representative Laird works)
The South Street Mystery (conspiracy theories about punk writers)
The Gypsy Gallery (representative Punk City artworks)
The Paranormal Plexus (tracking fringe literature and banned books/magazines)
The Boomer Bible and 9/11 (connecting a 1991 book and a day almost exactly 10 yrs later)

Miscellaneous:

Laird’s Author Page @ Amazon.
Laird On Laird (6,000 words and a tombstone)

There you have it. One page of text, plus links. One computer page anyway.