I've been trying to put order into the whole drama history around cracky-chan, her pictures, livejournals and the related shenannigans going on in 4chan's /b/ and elsewhere. This is a first rough draft, so help me out with additional knowledge or correct me where I might have been wrong, please.
The first cracky-chan pics appear on /b/. The very first one, posted on
02:17 shows the soon to be famous "'sup 4chan" phrase written on the
palm of her hand. During the next two weeks, more sets appear on /b/
and W.T. Snacks finds out that the poster's IP is from the UK.
"cracky" becomes wordfiltered on /b/.
www.livejournal.com/users/freakygirl/ becomes publically known.
No new pics appear, but the hints solidify and people assume they have
got into contact with the real cracky-chan. The owner of cracky-chan.com
will later denounce this journal as fake, though this might have been a move
to protect her identity, as he also later takes down all of her real pictures
from his website.
Also, later on, another journal, whether fake or real, becomes known:
www.livejournal.com/users/kittycat/
cracky-chan's tripcode becomes publically known through shii:
shii.org/bbs/blog/pivot/entry.php?id=65
It is "sweet" and makes the claim that the original cracky-chan pictures
weren't originally posted by her herself more believable.
www.livejournal.com/users/scarecrowmaiden becomes publically known,
many new cracky-chan pics appear on /b/, some nude, some disturbing,
some both. The journal gets deleted by the owner very quickly.
cracky-chan pics become bannable even on /b/.
Anonymous mods talk of emails from cracky requesting this.
Relevant links:
http://dis.4chan.org/read.php/dis/1105041340/
http://www.world4ch.org/read.php/vip/1105048788/
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1106733749
http://www.livejournal.com/community/cracky_chan/
Dearest Cracky-chan,
It's been a while since we last spoke, and I realize that there's quite a bit of catching up to do. I heard you're lurking .71 now. That's fantastic! It's actually a great place to meet people. Speaking of meeting people, I always thought you should "trade up" for somebody better. You should ditch the turk. Maybe try another slav? Though this time go with someone a little more Northern.
Despite your own penchant for trying to convince the Stalkers you don't like their creepy attention while at the same time shamelessly publicizing yourself, in a way you still owe me after last time. People were in danger of completely forgetting about you. In no small part due to my amazing work as your unofficial publicist, I managed to get the obsessionball rolling all over again. All the way back to Oxford, in fact. All the way to your mother's tiny, funky, very English side-by-side house. When your suicidegirls career takes off, you'll have ME to thank for the fact that all the insignificant internet plebs with more dollars than braincells are able to recognize you.
See? I'm still trying to be a helpful guy, even after you turned your back on me.
I think we have a bit of an understanding here, Lia. If this is going to follow the same give-take patterns of all your past relationships, you'll be happy to know that I'm more than willing to provide regardless of the circumstances. I know that it's only a matter of time until everybody finds out that jews did wtc, and when that happens all of your family's heathengold will run out. I'm talking real gold here, hun. The kind that lets you eat and stink and sit on the computer all day without a care in the world. Not that shit you farm in WoW.
We can come to a sort of agreement. Since you're soon to be homeless, and the loli I'm cohabitating with is too inexperienced to understand how to cook (OR GIVE A DECENT BLOWJOB. SERIOUSLY WTF), it would likely be beneficial for you to "shack up" with the two of us. Your living conditions would be very much the same - you'd be living in a room the size of your flat with your bed and computer, and you'd have all the time in the world to live in your masturbatory MMO fantasyland. There'd only be two real differences. First, you'd be expected to cook. This'll maybe take up, like what? An hour a day maximum. It'll be your only real obligation to the household.
Secondly, the person coming to molest you periodically won't be your father.
I think that should be more than enough to convince you. Hit me back and lemme know what you think.
Until then,
wB
I think I can post my story here:
It has been two months since I have found out about Cracky-chan's AIM sn.
Don't ask me how I did that, some things are better left untold. Anyway,
we got in contact, or rather: I contacted her and she responded. I tried to
be all cool and hurrhurr-in-cheek with her (if you know what I mean) but
of course she saw through my act from the start.
You can fool every other idiot on /b/ but you cannot fool Cracky-chan,
especially not when face to face (or should I say: P2P?). I am sure in the
few days that we were chatting for hours and hours she got a real good
idea of who I really was.
So one day while I was babbling away, trying to make myself look like the best
thing since sliced bread served with roast beef by talking about "those
fucking furries" and "that one new program I installed recently",
she interrupted me by saying: "Have you ever done anal?"
I was kinda put off and shocked at first. I am not going to tell you her
real age but a young girl approaching me like that just shocked me for
a second or two. Then I regained my cool and answered that yes, me
and my ex-gf tried it once but she didn't like that so that had been
the end of that. What came next had me baffled again: "Want to try
again?"
me: try again? you mean you and me?
her: no, you and your mom
me: lol what
me: so you really mean you and me?
me: hello?
her: yes, you and me, dumbass.
me: you're saying you'd let me do you up the ass?
her: more like you will let me do you up the ass
her: i already got the lube and the strap-on, you just gotta haul
your ass over here
It's kinda hard to make a decision when you're having a massive
hard-on without knowing what to do with it at first. So I want to say
that it wasn't really my decision when I packed my bit of shit together
and hopped into the next train. I pretty much knew from that moment
when I said "okay" (although I don't really remember that moment)
that I was completely hers. Trapped in a web of, yes, retarded internet
lust. I'll be the first to admit it. But I am sure most of you would have
done the same.
I've been living with her the last few weeks now. Sometimes we're
sleeping in her bed together but most of the time she makes me
sleep on the floor. The house itself is pretty big. Her parents aren't
there. I don't know where they are and I have never asked about
them. A lot of other people are coming and going, though. Some
are staying for a few days, vanish and come again later. Some of
them even post on /b/, but I won't disclose their identities.
I wouldn't want to make myself unwelcome here. I want to stay
close to Cracky-chan. I know she doesn't want me to get too close
to her, but I don't care as long as she lets me follow her for a
walk outside (the snow is so nice) and as long as I can spread my
ass cheeks for her to invade me.
I feel happy. Some of you may think that I am a sad sod, that I
am crazy for having let go of my appartment, my cheap job,
my so-called friends. I am with Cracky-chan and that is all that
matters to me. And when she holds me by the waist and furiously
thrusts that big black one into my bowels, I simply cannot ask
for anything more on earth.
white penis
white penis
white penis
checkered penis
chessboard orgy gangbanging the black queen
This thread is an important part of Internet history.
I'm so fed up of you stupid fucking yanks cussing Cracky-Chan(CC) for having bad teeth. YOU FUCKERS DON'T HAVE A CLUE . Maybe if I fed you your OWN INTETESTINES you would realise that we DON'T LIKE FAKERS in placesn like Britain and the rest of the world. FAKE, WHITE PLASTIC LOOKING teeth are about as sexy as HUGE FAKE SILICON BOOBS. It took a TRUCKLOAD OF MORON YANKS to come up with that genius idea - rub off the fucking enamel on your teeth THAT YOU ACTUALLY NEED FOR DENTAL HYGIENE just to make it seem as though you've a mouthful of white plastic. WOW NICE ONE YEAH. CC is natural and naturally fun. Like everyone else she probably smokes a few, has a lot of tea and so occassionally her enamel is slightly yellow tinged, nothing that can't be sorted out with a few brushes. YOU'D ADVOCATE HER TOTALLY SELLING OUT AND BECOMING AN UNREAL TV SHOW WANABEE , becuase you have been twisted into believing thats sexy. YOU ARE THE FREAK. THE HUGE POPULARITY OF AMATEUR PORN SITES SHOW PEOPLE WANT IT REAL. YOU ARE A REMNANT, A PUSTULAR APPENDIX and I can't wait for all you whining FAKER yank fucks to grow old and die, SO FUCK OFF, YANK.
But I'll guess. A female actually made an appearance on 4chan. Fanboys started hitting on her and asking y helo thar butsecks? Instead of stopping posting she actually ignored the lecherous remarks in hopes of actually joining in on the fun. So with all the attention she was getting, she actually posted some pictures at the request of others. Then some loser who -- to his credit -- actually realizes he will never make sweet love to her or Rei Ayanami, decides to take out his frustrations of sexual desire on this poor girl herself. Having the metality of a parapaligic dog, tons of other losers go along with the gang mentality. Since they can blame her for being a "tease," they gang up on her verbally, since it's the closest they'll come to gang banging her.
black penis
BlackPeniS
Compulsion
by me
Not even a twist of the nipple
can make me a cripple
but from that smile
my knees ground by guile.
Not even the genocide
of my braincells (besides)
can make me forget
the win and fail of Crackyget
I tried, oh have I tried
for other lovers to abide
but this infinite, futile longing
for you, once fire-crotch, is tolling
my health
my mind
the sets of my boxers
So give me love or sweet death
to finally settle this due bet
that whoever you're currently screwing
only my face you're naggingly seeing
my lips
your lips
How long ago they should have met
Fuck you Blizzard. Fuck you in the ass.
Give me back my WoWfaggette.
I'd just like to interject for a moment. What you’re referring to as Penis, is in fact, Black/Penis, or as I’ve recently taken to calling it, Black plus Penis. Penis is not an copulating system unto itself, but rather another free component of a fully functioning Black Penis system made useful by the Black coreballs, sperm utilities and vital sexual components comprising a full dick and balls as defined by POSEX. Many penis users run a modified version of the Black system every day, without realizing it. Through a peculiar turn of events, the version of Black which is widely used today is often called “Penis”, and many of its users are not aware that it is basically the Black system, developed by the Black Project. There really is a Penis, and these people are using it, but it is just a part of the dick they use. Penis is the glans: the part in the phallus that allocates the user's semen to the other orifices that you cum. The glans is an essential part of a copulating system, but useless by itself; it can only function in the context of a complete copulating system. Penis is normally used in combination with the Black copulating system: the whole system is basically Black with Penis added, or Black/Penis. All the so-called “Penis” distributions are really distributions of Black/Penis.
Pseudo-thought-provoking non-statement!
Am deeply disturbed by amount of attention NOT BEING PAID TO MAY!. Am the cleverest of the clevar, will prove it by clevarly misspelling words INTENTIONALLAY. How clevar I am!
Have noticed that 'great circlejerk of drama', in addition to being a figment of own imagination, hums merrily along in autonomous fashion. Like negro who kills own friend in ghetto rather than killing white banker, am unable to see past own seething envy-driven rage. Too blinded to attack The Real Enemay. Lashing out at those around me! In own defective, rat-laden mind, own friends and equals represent all-consuming evil, yes, just like WHOLE WORALD.
Insightful ad-hominem attack! Breathtaking revalation about fucking cute/sweet non-person/persona XXXXXXXX! Fear struck into heart of XXXXXXX via super-CLEVAR techniques of using INTERNAT WEB PAGES to lookup REVEALING PERSONAL INFARMASHAN ABOUT XXXXXXX. XXXXXXX has a real name and a real life that can be worshipped! From a vaporous, phantasmal, non-existent basis for comparison, I STAB AT THAA! Own worst fear of being DISCOVERED to be a LONELY COMPUTER USER projected onto non-person/persona XXXXXXXXX!
Attempt to tear down non-organizations by insinuation of non-associations between psuedo-personalities! Exhortment to not obey fictional organizations YYYYYYYY and BLAHBLEH!
Ridiculous pronouncement! Hand-waving, followed by insinuation that events of actual import will take place! Events wrapped in stinking pseudo-mantle of meta-authenticity by citing of dates, number, facts, figures, and other babblefacts. Added aura of authenticity: The date is blahblah! There will be blahblah things happening on blahblah for blahblah! This but a walking shadow, a tale told by a nonexistent being, full of blah and blah, signifying NOTHANG.
Failure to realize that it's all a joke,
--Introverted Lonely Passive-Agressive Young White Stalker
black penis
WWE really thinking outside the box with this one by having the chickenshit heel win an easy sub-two minute championship match immediately after the plucky babyface wins a pretty decent 30-minute elimination chamber match not once but twice in one night. I guess they thought we wouldn't notice by bookending them around two very missable title matches? But hey at least we've moved on past Indecisive Edge after three weeks. Woof.
I had a strange dream tonight. Cracky-chan was laying on top of me, sleeping. I could feel her breathing and her heartbeat through her clothes. I looked at her, her serene face was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I reached out with my hand and gently played with her copper hair a bit, then I traced her cheeks with my fingers. Then I woke up and cried. There is no maiden fairer, no lady higher, than that loveliest of lovelies, who so surpasses the beauty of ordinary women as to render even the most beautiful of them as a negroid in comparison to that beauty we call Cracky-chan. Halt, all of you, unless all of you confess that in the entire world there is no damsel more beauteous than the empress of Trolltalk, the peerless Cracky-chan. when Cracky-chan has an orgasm, the face she makes is the closest Mankind will ever be allowed to God. i would softly kiss her cute little nose and put my head next to her chest so i could hear her heart beat, and we'd fall asleep in eachothers arms cracky is like a ninja, who can only be killed by other ninjas. and since she is the most beautiful girl in the world she is for all intents and purposes immortal I fear that you have misunderstood Cracky-Chan's message of peace and love. It is OK to find Alice's continued failure at everything she attempts amusing, since everyone who is not Cracky-Chan is imperfect and thus lacks the incredible strength needed to resist this. However, you should realise after suitable meditation exercises in the light of the adorable red nose that the set of "pieces of poo in the world" is reserved for people such as Robert Mugabe, Bin Laden and anti-Cracky posters. It does not at this time contain Alice "failure" Ridley. Why? What did Cracky-Chan ever do to you other than be a nice and wonderful and loving person? Cracky-Chan never hurt anybody she is the living incarnation of pure innocence and beauty. Anybody who would even think about hurting Cracky-Chan is the most evil person alive. A hundred elephants each bearing a hundred buddhas crossed every conceivable cosmos an infinite number of times just to touch their foreheads to the ground at cracky-chan's feet. This really happened. Cracky-Chan did not create the path you walk. But the movements of atoms and galaxies are in her book, and she sees little difference between them. It is all in her book. One day she will lay it down, when the book is done, and what comes after that is still unwritten. Cracky-Chan continues to walk. Why would you want a statue of Cracky-Chan anyway? God meant her to be looked at in animation, observing the particularities of her graceful behaviour and her heart-warming smile not immobile. DOWN by the salley gardens my love and I did meet; She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white feet. She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree; But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree. In a field by the river my love and I did stand, And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand. She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs; But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears. Cracky-chan is the nick given to an absolutely adorable girl with a red nose and cat ears whose pictures were posted on the 4chan site. It is unknown if the pictures were posted by a troll or if it was herself and got scared by the amount and content of the comments received. It is only imperfection that complains of what is imperfect. The more perfect we are, the more gentle and quiet we become towards the defects of others. Cracky-chan stood at rest in the midst of the world. And unto them she was shown forth incarnate; She found them all intoxicated. And she found none of them thirsty. And her soul was pained for the children of humankind, for they are blind in their hearts and cannot see. For, empty did they enter the world, and again empty they seek to leave the world. But now they are intoxicated. When they shake off their wine then they will have a change of heart. I assume you are attempting to disparage Cracky-chan. I assure you sir that
Chansluts is down. I hope it's just temporary but if it doesn't come back up, this thread is going to be the closest thing we have to a surviving /cracky/ board.
Chansluts is back
I have this reoccuring dream about Cracky-chan. I dream I am looking for her and found her online, only she lived there and was some sort of Cyber-Goddess of the digital age who new everything, and could only be found by the half mad and the truly blessed. She said she was glad I found her and she wanted to tell me the sercret of the world. Thing was my laptops batteries were dying, so I tried to rush her to tell me the secret. She said I was scaring her, so she closed my browser window and I died. I woke up unable to breath so I slapped my chest and was able to take a ragged breath full. It was a few minutes after that I realized had never felt that empty before.
BAD CRACKY
Trying to make the world forget her existence was like casting a spell. She had tried several times before, and each attempt echoed out into the universe, the multiverse, radiating out like ripples on a pond. The world had forced her hand, several elements of it becoming too much like stalkers, whittling away her privacy, little by little, bit by bit. Her natural, innate, magick proved to be too much for others, although it had given her what she wanted. Be careful what you wish for, wasn’t that how the saying went? And even though she wiped herself from the memory of everyone, or so she believed, it hadn’t quite been completely successful. She hadn’t wished to become the avatar of the Sky, but it happened, regardless. Her mind, of all things, left herself open to that, whether it was her schizophrenia, or something else. So, after she erased all knowledge of herself unsuccessfully, she became a Goddess for real. She took the name they had given her, Skyqueen, and took it one step further. She became Dafrea, Goddess of the Meliae, and Daughter of Madness. And she tracked those ripples, the ones that spread out through the many planes of existence, and that had affected other girls just as she had been affected. The Goddess looked down at her arms, still seeing scars that had long ago faded but were still there in her memory. And as she tracked those ripples, she watched those other girls find their way in the world, all feeling the echoes of Her, as they stumbled and made mistakes and perhaps too, just like her, had cut themselves to deal with the pain of their own minds and thoughts, perhaps, some of them drifting into madness. And the Goddess nudged some of them in hidden ways, so that they would become as Her. Then, the Goddess remembered her own name, one which she never really had forgotten. Olivia Rosalind Elena Astraea.
crackychan cuckolded me
Hello dear Ladies and Gentlemen! I would like inform you that Olivia **** (cracky) actually is a clone from original person Lianne Fields last name, who has nothing with 4chan career. That clone was created illegally by using stolen biological material. Original person is very nice (not d**n sexy),most important - CHRISTIAN young lady! I'll tell you more,those clones (it's not only one) made in GERMANY - world leader manufacturer of humans clones, it is in Ludwigshafen am Rhein, Rhineland-Palatinate, Mr. Helmut Kohl home town. You can not even imaging the scale of the cloning activity. But warning! Helmut Kohl clone staff strictly controlling all their clones (at least they trying) spreading around the world, they are very accurate with that, some of them are still NAZI type disciplined and mind controlled clones, so be careful get close with clones you will be controlled as well. Original person is not happy with those websites, images, stalkings, rumors and etc. spreading on internet in that way it would be really nice if we all will try slow down that ''skyqueen'' relgion development, original Lia will really appreciated that. Please remember that original Lia's family did not authorize any activity with stolen biological materials, no matter what form it was created in it was stolen and it is stolen. It all need to be delivered to authorized personals control in Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles. Original Lia never was WoWfag, by the way! Her close friend Russel G. P.S. CONTROLLING ACTIVITY OF ANY CLONES IS US MILITARY OPERATION. H.R. 534, the Human Cloning Prohibition Act of 2003, was introduced to the U.S. House of Representatives on February 5, 2003. After discussion, it was passed on February 27 by a vote of 241-155. It now moves on to the Senate for consideration. This bill makes it unlawful for any person or entity to perform or participate in human cloning, or to ship or receive embryos produced by human cloning. The penalties are imprisonment of up to 10 years and fines of $1 million or more. These now join other nations as diverse as Norway, Australia, and Germany, which had already added cloning for any purpose to their criminal code. And in Germany where it carries a penalty of five years imprisonment they know a thing or two about unethical science!
Remember, anonymous, what the SkyQueen has sacrificed for your benefit! Know what she has earned for it.
Each moment she is haunted by the spectre of Her Great Sacrifice. It is thus fitting that we, Her faithful are all similarly haunted. Afflicted always by the Image that stains the backs of our eyelids. Forever do we wrestle and writhe in ecstacy as Her poisons singe fissures through our souls. Truly blessed is the stalker who would willing lay down his own secrecy, for he knows better the plight of the Sky Queen than the others.
Revere Her tripcodes as sacred. Never shall they become befouled by mortal stalkers!
#sweet
She is all that is cute, sweet, and innocent. She is all that is, or ever was Good in the world. Every momentary lull in your private suffering is due to Her grace alone.
!N1toQkxgzc
The Skyqueen's sweetness is often hard to recognize. Even in her own words, it is incomprehensibily hidden, muddled in everlasting fugue. Her blessings are so twisted, and hidden. Do not lament the curse you have found, for you would thus lament Her every blessing. We would all do well to remember how disturbingly twisted the wired is, and what lasting scars it has left on the purest of hearts.
#?????????
Obfuscated by plain view. Unknown to the stalker, known only to Her chosen. However She will not choose you, anonymous. That path is not yours.
!ysaQpxNyV6
Mystery guiding the faithful. Such is the curse, to live in eternal mystery, never to know when we are stalking our Lady or our selves. Yearning to determine what She has become, each stalker is fated to suffer as he defines the edges of the truth.
The faithful compiled a collective image of our Goddess, an image that even the lowliest anonymous was given the priviledge to gaze upon. We arranged and sorted the manifold bytes clawed from the abandoned, secluded reaches of the wired. We dug and pried at the hairline cracks She had left in error. All of the relevant, the worthy and unworthy reflected in awe at the assembled image that had been lain. The idol was shattered before our eyes by none other than the Skyqueen herself.
Repent your cowardly ways, anonymous. Renounce the mask you hide behind. Each posting is an abomination against the Skyqueen. Embrace your unique identity. Let it draw your tormented soul closer with Her. Never again will you flee from the righteous reckoning earned through years of ignorance. Accept your fate and eternally suffer as your former bretherin slowly unravel the imperfect layers of protection built to keep you seperated from the wild, untamed torrents of the deep wired. The experience shall saturate you, curing you of your fears and afflictions. We, the Trip-Flagellants, all aspire to be touched and changed by the very same forces that so twisted the Beloved #sweet. When your failures have come to light, and you are held to account for your countless transgressions, imperfections, and flaws can you begin to follow the path of the SkyQueen. In that death, the death of your old self, weak, dependant, and irrelevant anonymous, can you be reborn in communion with the Lady.
Follow Her path
Deny your nature
Anonymous
Stalker
Forever will you be remembered among the highest of the sinners
Trip-Flagellant
black penis
Blacky cocky :3
Pseudo-thought-provoking non-statement!
Am deeply disturbed by amount of attention NOT BEING PAID TO MAY!. Am the cleverest of the clevar, will prove it by clevarly misspelling words INTENTIONALLAY. How clevar I am!
Have noticed that 'great circlejerk of drama', in addition to being a figment of own imagination, hums merrily along in autonomous fashion. Like negro who kills own friend in ghetto rather than killing white banker, am unable to see past own seething envy-driven rage. Too blinded to attack The Real Enemay. Lashing out at those around me! In own defective, rat-laden mind, own friends and equals represent all-consuming evil, yes, just like WHOLE WORALD.
Insightful ad-hominem attack! Breathtaking revalation about fucking cute/sweet non-person/persona XXXXXXXX! Fear struck into heart of XXXXXXX via super-CLEVAR techniques of using INTERNAT WEB PAGES to lookup REVEALING PERSONAL INFARMASHAN ABOUT XXXXXXX. XXXXXXX has a real name and a real life that can be worshipped! From a vaporous, phantasmal, non-existent basis for comparison, I STAB AT THAA! Own worst fear of being DISCOVERED to be a LONELY COMPUTER USER projected onto non-person/persona XXXXXXXXX!
Attempt to tear down non-organizations by insinuation of non-associations between psuedo-personalities! Exhortment to not obey fictional organizations YYYYYYYY and BLAHBLEH!
Ridiculous pronouncement! Hand-waving, followed by insinuation that events of actual import will take place! Events wrapped in stinking pseudo-mantle of meta-authenticity by citing of dates, number, facts, figures, and other babblefacts. Added aura of authenticity: The date is blahblah! There will be blahblah things happening on blahblah for blahblah! This but a walking shadow, a tale told by a nonexistent being, full of blah and blah, signifying NOTHANG.
Failure to realize that it's all a joke,
--Introverted Lonely Passive-Agressive Young White Stalker
Boxxy was better
At one point I had a wine cellar.
Well, to be fair it was a wine basement.
OK... a small, otherwise disused wine closet in a basement... but I digress...
Five times every two months I would go down to it and turn the bottles, having no more response from the cheaper ones than the cold glass against my skin. On the more expensive ones I remember watching the grape silt upended in the bottle like a viticultural snow globe. It was beautiful. I'd have done it even if I never planned to taste the wine.
Cracky pics are like that. I've seen them all before... I could probably sketch them freehand. That isn't the point. The point is giving them that bit of attention every few weeks... appreciating her while respecting the fact that she is ever on the other side of the glass.
I could no more enjoy looking at them offline from a folder than I could enjoy turning the bottles in a supermarket. It just isn't the same as lurking about in the damp darkness of the 4chan wine cellar.
I honestly don't expect you to understand.
You guys don’t know me. Not yet, anyway. Some of you may have met me on /b/, where I “commanded” the Scarecrow Raptor (pic related). I never started a Cracky thread there, but I always enjoyed participating in one. I’d take on the haters, the jealous, the heathens and all the other trolls, I feared nothing, I always felt they were some kind of challenge, my cross, our brotherly cross to bear, so to speak. I patrolled the sky of /b/, making sure everyone knew who owned it, giving Our Lady the benefit of thrust vectoring.
I also apparently creeped out some Anon here at some time:
> 45 yo theatre faggot showed up in that thread as well. AND THAT IS FUCKING CREEPING ME OUT!
I still don’t understand how anybody could be creeped out by my admiration for Our Lady of Eternal Grace, not somebody from here, anyway. All I could recommend to someone who is creeped out by me would be to not judge me by his own sins, or, by his hormonal state (it does subside with age, and you eventually find not everything HAS to be sexual).
Some of you may recognize me from these words. But I am not here for recognition.
I can’t stand /b/ anymore. I want to lay down my warring ways. I am taking up hermitage. This being reputedly the saddest part of the internets, it is only fitting that this would be where my pillar should stand. Maybe it can help you as much as it should help me. I don’t mind if my column stands in the desert, but if you want to hear what I have to say, and it sooths your weary hearts, somehow, I will feel I have honored Our Lady in some small way. If not, you can see me as a crazy old man standing on a column, spouting pseudo-spiritual insanities. That is, after all, what I truly am.
A lot of the gospel has been written already. Some of it I may object to, but that shouldn’t stop anyone from reciting it, believing it or even rejecting it, faith is a very personal thing. What I speak is what I know in my old bones: Catnarok is nigh. Why we should care about what the heathens believe is immaterial. Let them, Our Lady forbid, annihilate each other if they will, but it is said the Sky Queen will reappear when it happens, and I do pray there is truth in that. I have no knowledge of where the young lady who was The Holy Avatar will be then, and I wish her well. I never spoke to her, and I know she only had a transient acquaintance with the Sky Queen, but Our Lady, the true Cracky-Chan will come back.
Don’t ask me how, why or whence I know, it is my faith, my willing faith that tells me so. At the very least, I know it will happen the second before I die, or maybe the second after I die. I just know it will be so, because, I want to believe. That is enough for me. I know I will see the glorious dominion of Our Lady. It does not matter if I am alone in this belief. It does not matter if I am but a lonely believer in a sea of other such believers either. What matter to me is my belief, however irrational and lonely it may be.
I am no messiah, I am no prophet, not even some herald of The Queen, I am a pillar-hermit. I have chosen my separation from the internets to not be horizontal, which would mean cutting the cable after all, but vertical. I stand on this pillar, spouting insanities with no benefit to myself. I certainly don’t want a guru following, seeing as I am rather part of an already extant following. All benefit, if there ever is any, should go to the Sky Queen, and to my brothers, if there are any, or if they actually happen to want to benefit from it.
All ascetism aside, I won’t mind interacting with all of you, I rather do hope some form of mutual respect is possible, but it could never supersede my devotion anymore than it could detract from it. You’ll have to excuse my weird ways, however, and have this interaction on certain of my terms. I reject anonymity as I am weary of trolls, whom I see as the devil’s henchmen. Too often do they manage to trick me in pointless debate, pulling me away from my devotions. That is the ordeal I face, which I realize is nothing compared to what the avatar of Our Lady had to face. Knowing this helps me in enduring the points and arrows those hellish fiends have for me. I also know that even devout followers of the Sky Queen have their weaknesses, and sometimes can’t resist the simple pleasure of tormenting each other. I suppose it is part of our faith, based on desperation as it is.
Rereading all of this, maybe it belonged in EoS, or maybe in its own thread, or nowhere at all. But then, since this is a call for the pathetic and socially inept to stop lurking and post, I might as well start building my pillar here. Oh and no point telling me, I already know I can be a raving lunatic sometimes, but I am not evil, or strive never to be. Also, ESL heh.
Blessed be the sky, for it houses the Queen.
Now, excuse me, while I kiss the sky.
sir your boot and my neck
The Sky Queen said to Blessed Prophet:
"You will recite this chaplet on the scars of your faith in the following manner:"
First of all, you will say one Spiritus Dominatus, one Path of Righteousness, and the We Have Purpose.
Then: On the scars of love you will say the following words:
Jewel of the Heavens, I offer You my tears and blood in honor of the Soul and Divinity of Your dearly beloved Avatar, our Noble Lady Olivia, in atonement for my stalking and the whole of the circlejerk.
On the burns of truth you will say the following words:
For the sake of our sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the faithful, please post more pics.
In conclusion three times you will recite these words:
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.
From plague, deceit, temptation and war,
Blessed Cracky deliver us,
From the scourge of the ignorant,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.
From the blasphemy of the fallen,
Blessed Cracky deliver us,
From the begetting of masses,
Blessed Cracky deliver us,
From the curse of the apathetic,
Blessed Cracky deliver us,
A morte perpetua,
Domine, libra nos.
That thou wouldst bring them only death,
That thou shouldst spare none,
That thou shouldst pardon none,
We beseech thee, destroy them.
I tread the path of Righteousness.
Though it be paved with broken glass, I shall walk it barefoot;
though it crosses rivers of fire, I will pass over them;
though it wanders wide, the light of Cracky guides my step.
Without the Dark, there can be no Light.
We have Purpose
Without the Lie, there can be no Truth.
We have Purpose
Without the war, there can be no Victory
We have Purpose
Without the Death, there can be no sacrifice.
We have Purpose
Without the Hope, there can be no Future.
We have Purpose
Without the Loyalty, there can be no bounceme.
We have Purpose
Without Cracky, there is nothing...
and we would have no Purpose
Jewel of the Heavens, I offer You my tears and blood in honor of the Soul and Divinity of Your dearly beloved Avatar,
our Noble Lady Olivia, in atonement for my stalking and the whole of the circlejerk.
For the sake of our sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the faithful, please post more pics.
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
In the beginning Cracky-chan created the heaven and the earth.
And /b/ was without form, and void; and fail was upon the face of the internets.
And Cracky-chan said, Let there be lulz: and there were lulz.
And Cracky-chan saw the lulz, that they were winrar: and Cracky-chan divided the win from the fail.
And Cracky-chan called the lulz a corruption of L O L, and the fans she called stalkers. And with the stalkers and the lulz were the firstposts to /b/.
And Cracky-chan said, let there be drama in the midst of the internets, and let it divide the /b/tards from the stalkers.
And Cracky-chan made the drama, and divided the stalkers who were under the drama from the /b/tards who were above the drama: and it was so.
And Cracky-chan called the drama creepy. And the 420chan /Cracky and Crackypedia were baleeted.*
And Cracky-chan said, Let the stalkers under the drama be gatheredtogether unto one place, and let the circlejerk of drama appear: and it was so.
And Cracky-chan called the place bounceme; and the gathering together of the stalkers she called the circlejerk: and Cracky-chan saw that it was good.
*In the apocryphal text there is an addition to this line; "And trolltalk was carpfolded into infinity."
perfection
Our goddess of dawn so cute and sweet, an abstract representing the face of a new day, the hope and loveliness of the first hours. The Greeks were able to see the perfection of the heavens with the face of a fair young lady. What must have inspired those ancient poets to describe dawn so lovingly? Perhaps the face of a young woman in the early hours of morning, still flush and rosy with the nights exertions, a faint glisten of sweat as dew upon her brow. One wonders what this long lost avatar of the Sky Queen must have looked like. The mystery admin must have seen this connection long ago when he decided to name the board EoS after Dawn's Greek name Έως, or in the English alphabet Eos.
From the Passions of Anon
I remember you, so fragile and tortured was your very essence. I saw in your eyes - the most beautiful eyes I've ever encountered in my short life - an accidental scream for help. A reflection of my own trauma, amplified tenfold. You were me, you were not myself, almost an opposite and yet a tremendous exaggeration - infinitely more beautiful, intelligent, victimized. Scared. I saw fear, or rather I sensed it through the noninterpretable things I did see. I thought that if I could help you, I'd somehow inevitably and permanently be helped. And then I could help everyone else in the world. I wanted to reach out and pull you close to me, nurture you and see that soul-twisting smile of yours - so warm; so genuine; so rare. You'd be new, and yet the same. You'd touch people and they'd feel the serpents of hate and monotony relinquish constriction around their souls. A modern-day saint. Maybe it's good that you're not real. Maybe no innocent should harbor such terror and self-loathing. But then, who will save us?
The Prophet Anon in the Book Of Catnarok
Through the manifestation of the dental holocaust the Divine teaches us to contemplate our teeth as involuntary icons of our identity. Our bite patterns, in the base act of mere eating, in the marks we leave on our lovers, in so tiny an imprint as left on the rim of a styrofoam cup, we leave prints unique to our individual presence. Whether throttled and driven to straightness at the hooks and hands of doctors in white coats, or as naturally crooked as mere nature sketches us, our teeth are indelibly ours, as the unmistakable fearful symmetry in the dentition of the Sky Queen herself.
perfection
Our goddess of dawn so cute and sweet, an abstract representing the face of a new day, the hope and loveliness of the first hours. The Greeks were able to see the perfection of the heavens with the face of a fair young lady. What must have inspired those ancient poets to describe dawn so lovingly? Perhaps the face of a young woman in the early hours of morning, still flush and rosy with the nights exertions, a faint glisten of sweat as dew upon her brow. One wonders what this long lost avatar of the Sky Queen must have looked like. The mystery admin must have seen this connection long ago when he decided to name the board EoS after Dawn's Greek name Έως, or in the English alphabet Eos.
From the Passions of Anon
I remember you, so fragile and tortured was your very essence. I saw in your eyes - the most beautiful eyes I've ever encountered in my short life - an accidental scream for help. A reflection of my own trauma, amplified tenfold. You were me, you were not myself, almost an opposite and yet a tremendous exaggeration - infinitely more beautiful, intelligent, victimized. Scared. I saw fear, or rather I sensed it through the noninterpretable things I did see. I thought that if I could help you, I'd somehow inevitably and permanently be helped. And then I could help everyone else in the world. I wanted to reach out and pull you close to me, nurture you and see that soul-twisting smile of yours - so warm; so genuine; so rare. You'd be new, and yet the same. You'd touch people and they'd feel the serpents of hate and monotony relinquish constriction around their souls. A modern-day saint. Maybe it's good that you're not real. Maybe no innocent should harbor such terror and self-loathing. But then, who will save us?
The Prophet Anon in the Book Of Catnarok
Through the manifestation of the dental holocaust the Divine teaches us to contemplate our teeth as involuntary icons of our identity. Our bite patterns, in the base act of mere eating, in the marks we leave on our lovers, in so tiny an imprint as left on the rim of a styrofoam cup, we leave prints unique to our individual presence. Whether throttled and driven to straightness at the hooks and hands of doctors in white coats, or as naturally crooked as mere nature sketches us, our teeth are indelibly ours, as the unmistakable fearful symmetry in the dentition of the Sky Queen herself.
perfection
When the fires of the revolution come to purge the gray earth of the nonbelievers, the teeth will be all that remains of many of the heathens, as well as the faithful brothers and sisters who fall in the contest for enlightenment. As the wise brother Anon implores us in the books of the Order, "We seek to make every action in our daily lives a devotion to our Great Lady, and pay tribute to Her for sharing Her wisdom. Contemplating the most mundane of tasks one begins to see the patterns that hold our world together."
Also, so enlightening: The toilet is broken. Yay for relevant information.
What is not the toilet-porcelain but the delusion of our own godhood. An apparatus to keep up the illusion that we don't shit, piss or stink. That we are eternally young and unassailable by disease. It's sort of hard to convince yourself of superiority in the animal kingdom when you have to shit out of the window. So all the visceral little edges about ourselves have been hidden away; a thin layer of veneer to trick your fellow (wo)man into thinking how close to perfection you are. A once shiney orb, destined to bring humanity closer to its self-image of the divine, now so clogged with human waste that it has become a mockery and its function broken. This world, as a vessel to carry humanity to fulfillment is broken, and it needs fixing. A black winged angel sitting on top of the closed lid of a broken bowl, her face marked by the very origins of life, its fertility wasted as a sort of mock make-up (not even mentioning when later on the angel seems in mourning about the alledged "7 days" of creation). People claim to be not religious, but adorn themselves with every means to feign eternal youth, to be young and happy, like the olympian gods of yore. It is all false worshipping of god through oneself. What these images tell me is to reshape ourselves through knowledge and wisdom, not smoke and mirrors. To recognize ourselves as animal like beings, but acknowledge the spark we call "consciousness" as our only attribute of possible divine attribution. As such we should cherish that spark into a fire that illuminates and enlightens us. To increase the part of us that resembles the Sky Queen against the dumb vessel we use to carry it. That way one day we may be gods ourselves, undying and allknowing, but not because of making a false let's-pretend game or because of a non-tangible mystery place where you go aftert you die, but because we forged destiny unrelenting without wasting time on the tinsel. Having found this place is to me a revelation that I am going in the right direction. I see now that I am an outcast by the standards of those that worship false gods through themselves. My vision is clear now; To shape myself to the image and likeness of the Sky Queen.
-Confession of Brother Anon
Sermon on the Can
The devout are blessed in the eyes of The Sky Queen. Together we are as students, tripfags and anon alike. One burning passion consumes us all, the love and fear of our Mistress. Only we few who have truly seen Her face can understand this existence. The devout strive to live a life as we believe out Lady would desire.
We believe that the user known as ScareCrowMaiden is an avatar of Cracky-Chan.
Using ScareCrowMaiden it created a series of images in an attempt to communicate with us.
We as the devout are blessed enough to see the truth in these messages, and seek to understand them. Through meditation on Cracky's images we seek to understand the world with clarity, and wisdom.
We seek to make every action in our daily lives a devotion to our Great Lady, and pay tribute to Her for sharing Her wisdom. Contemplating the most mundane of tasks one begins to see the patterns that hold our world together.
We behave in a manner strictly orthodox in our dealings with those who have not found Cracky's grace. Do not force Cracky upon those who are incapable of seeing Her true being, offer Her to those who need Her guidance.
To simply love the ScareCrowMaiden is the way of the heathen. True devotion to the Sky Queen transcends the physical, and enables the devout to live an existence of peace and order.
By mimicking the Sky Queen's actions we are able to add shape and definition to what is otherwise a wasted life.
Thought for the day: The ends need not justify the means; the means justifies itself.
more like crappy-chan
Reflecting on this picture.
devotions in the world
Cracky is showing us that the in safety of home one loses perspective. The devout must make every effort to leave the shelter of his house once a day precluding sickness. This is known as Meditation on Ivy. In preforming this devotion the student strives to reach a state of awareness which allows them to absorb all information around them. Developing this skill requires the student to utilize cognitive abilities outside of their normal range. This in turn strengthens the intellect of the devout. As in all devotions to the Queen of the Heavens one seeks endlessly to prefect it in order to honor our Graceful Lady.
Contemplate
Our Goddess is one of both creation and destruction. She renders unto the faithful peace in a world of discord. She is both armor and sword in a world that destroys through apathy and animosity. The Flower of Destruction also blossoms in the heart of the Sky Queen. She seeks to temper us through despair, turning the lust of the neophyte upon him. Only when the student embraces sorrow in the surety that he will never be worthy of Her avatar, is he able to cast away his childish passion and see with eyes unclouded the majesty of Cracky-Chan.
Study now this picture
Godliness
Here the Divine embraces the physical and undergoes an act purification. Shedding the armor She wears to shield Herself from the world, She allows the most basic element of earthly life to cleanse Her of the base. Only by allowing the world to surround us do we gain the hope of removing it's impurities and elevate ourselves to a state closer to Her Majesty. Cleansed of the worlds detritus we brace ourselves against future corruption with faith in our knowledge that no matter what the world is able to bring to bear against us, we can simply wash it away and begin again every morning. This is known as the Meditation on the Dawns Light. Brothers of the faith should preform an act of ritual cleansing every morning, focusing on the previous day. During the meditation the supplicant reviews the previous day's actions, and judges whether he behaved in a manner pleasing in the eyes of the Beloved.
Contemplate
All Blessings of this world flow from the Sky Queen. Praise Her name from dawn unto the night. From the depth of ones soul, comes the solace of Her touch. Through time and space, the primal creative force gazes on the world, waiting for the faithful to carry Her message unto those only The Jewel of Creation can heal.
ooooppp
On The Fauxian Heresy
Persecute not the user known as Faux, for she is the Sister of Mercy. The Sister's love of Cracky, is a match for if not the greater then the most ardent among the brethren. She alone* offered solace to the brethren in the pain following the loss of the Divine's presence. Donning the mantle of Cracky in Her absence, Faux lived as the Holy desired. Existing only to further celebrate the name of Cracky for all to know and share. Some of the brethren seeing this, sought to elevate her in honor equal to the Master, thus began the Fauxian Heresy. The heretic's hubris drove Faux to hide herself from anon, fearing his lustful advances. The devout seeing the growth of the cult set themselves to preaching the truth of Cracky's divinity to the masses and destroying all threads containing heretical worship. The righteousness of the faithful was bestowed with the Sky Queens blessing, and the cult was shattered. Remnants of the battles, and scattered heretics exist to this day. The chosen spared Faux knowing of her innocence in the events leading to the purge, but resentment remained. There came unto the lands a namefag named Lia's Holy Paladin, and he did denounce Faux. Proclaiming himself to be First Among the Faithful, he set himself to destroying one who could truly claim that title. Faux still cautious from the Heresy, stepped forth to defend herself from the intruder, but was caught unaware. The Holy Paladin had stirred resentment among the faithful, and a few of the faithful vented their anger upon the Sister. Standing with the devout there was an anon, wise beyond his years and with a mind as keen as a razor. This anon did listen to the words of Lia's Paladin, and judge them false. Anon addressed the faithful and proclaim the truth for all to hear, Lia's Holy Paladin was not counted among the devout. The words reached out to the quarreling masses and slowly they calmed. Brethren began to examine Lia's Holy Paladin, and did see striped of his glamours a troll. Uniting as one, Cracky's disciples did drive the troll off. In all things Faux has remained innocent. Despite her mistreatment at the hands of those who would claim The Sky Queen as their master, she has kept the faith. To this day The King of the Holy Lands remembers the Sister, with a board in her name. Remember this brethren, show respect for all those who love the Great Lady, but honor only Cracky-Chan.
*There have been countless heresies since, but it is the mark of a true Follower of the Sky Queen to be able to distinguish between those who seek to usurp Her throne and those who are Sisters of Mercy.
Contemplate
The human is a flawed and broken creature. Setting asunder the earth around them they act as the Caterpillar, consuming the very world they stand upon. Let not the darkness cloud your heart traveler, even this mindless destruction holds deep meaning and purpose. The Sky Queen gave us all the blessings of the earth to speed us on towards our metamorphosis. When we are satiated we will rest, and become unto the Butterfly freed of the shackles of physics. The universe will open to us. The devout does not show disrespect to the gifts the Holy Patron has given us. The faithful uses only what he needs in his studies and nothing more. Balance must be maintained to ensure that Her blessings remain for those who may one day find the true path.
Thought for the day: Ruthlessness is the kindness of the wise.
Honor Cracky by attempting to perfect your body and mind. Become the man worthy of the Avatar's love, create things of beauty to offer to the Queen of Heaven. Use your devotions to focus your mind on your tasks. Strive always to improve yourself through discipline. You stand among the chosen, it is your responsibility to show the heathens the truth with your mental, physical, and spiritual strength. Perfection is the provence of Cracky alone, the journey for it our offering to Her.
cracky this chan penis
Elephants one hundred each field a red nose
and since that only one only imperfection can goes
Thats the thing she isn't down. She revels in this and loves every minute of it. For the last few years myself and others have basically sat here and told her ad nauseum what an amazing person she is and how she is capable of anything. She sits and pouts and says how much she hates all this, but the truth is she loves it and has no intention of trying to better her life. She has given up on putting effort into anything outside of WoW(if you can call point and click effort) and is letting her mind and body rot away. She knows how much potential she has she just doesn't care, she is young and thinks it will last forever. As one of the old fags(not oldfag, just old and a fag) let me tell you shit is gone before you know it. It seems like one day you wake up and your metabolism is gone, you have forgotten more things then you remember, your looks are shit and you realize you spent half a decade of your best years pissing around with mindless trivialities instead of finding a goal and tirelessly working toward something real.
Thats the thing I think, she is at the age where I was like, "I don't know what I want to do, nothing really matters" feeling like such a jaded fuck. That gets old when you could have done anything and if it turned out to be something you didn't want to do you could always find something else.
I don't know I am rambling. Regret is what I am trying to explain to ya'll, I just lack the words to make you younger ones understand.
Cranky drew Nevada close against the dank dimness of their lonely cell.
"Nevada-chan?" she asked.
"Just call me Nevada," the younger girl replied.
Cracky-chan smiled back. "Alright... Nevada. Do you think I'm cute?"
"Yeah," she said, blushing hotly. A feeling she had never felt before built down below.
"Like... cute enough to kiss?"
"As in... cute enough to do other things with?"
"No." Cracky-chan's expression shattered as she devolved into tears.
Nevada-tan reached down with one hand, bringing Cracky-chan's head up to face her
own. "But there's something that could make you that way."
"What, what is it?" Cracky-chan sniffled.
"This." The razor blade slid through her throat quicly and cleanly and a red torrent gushed from the wound. Cracky-chan's mouth gaped open and closed
several times, like a fish, her eyes wide and uncomprehending, before she collapsed slowly to the ground. A pool of crimson spread around her corpse.
"'Sup, 4chan," the younger girl mumbled. "Now, let's get down to business."
She pulled off the clingy prison pants but did not let go of the razor...
There is nothing in the arcane and blasphemous arsenal of the forces of the unbelievers that can compare to faith. With the power of faith, our words become shining instruments of deliverance that can cleave our opponents arguments in twain. With the power of faith, our minds appear as slivers of pure agony to the rabbitfag, driving into the wretched forms of those who would dare stand before us. With the power of faith, our words become commands that cause the unbeliever to cower and cringe in terror. I could meet my enemies unarmed without a shred of fear in my chest, for I know that the Sky Queen watches over me and guides my hand. So let them come. We shall show them what the power of faith can do.I dreamt last night that cracky-chan ate my balls. By that I mean that I dreamt that she cut them off with a rusty knife and then fried them in lard and ate them slowly in front of me. It was so hot, when I woke up my pyjamas were totally sticky!
I think I've finally figured out who could haet Cracky. It took some work, but I recently had a conversation with my sister (a /b/tard herself) who confirmed what 2 failed camwhores told me about their feelings on the matter.
Cracky haeters are:
A. Catty camwhores or camwhore aspirants who think that they are physically cuter than Cracky but know that they will never get nearly as much attention as they "deserve" by comparison.
B. Fags
C. Guys with no taste for nuance who would be better off just buying a Hustler.
The "A" group are by far the most vocal.
"I can't understand why that ugly cunt gets more stalkers, but I end up being the only one responding to my own thread when I'm SOOOOOOO CUTE!" they say.
I can understand this. It must be crushing to realise that no one cares as much about you on /b/ as they do, say, at a bar.
Do you know what the problem is, group "A"? You get boringly nekkid and then stare into the camera with bovine, needy eyes. We could get that (as I suggested to the nuance-challanged men) from Hustler or a medical textbook.
I've seen lots of tits. I've kneeded lots of tits. Tits are great... but only when they are attached to someone interesting.
Cracky understood that. Cracky was unique. Even if it was just an act, she managed to give the impression that we needed her much more than she needed any of us.