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/
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 donft know me. Not yet, anyway. Some of you may have met me on /b/, where I gcommandedh the Scarecrow Raptor (pic related). I never started a Cracky thread there, but I always enjoyed participating in one. Ifd 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 donft 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 canft 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 donft 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 shouldnft 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.
Donft 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 donft 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 wonft 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. Youfll 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 devilfs 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 canft 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 ΈÏñÏ‚, 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 ΈÏñÏ‚, 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.
Cracky lurks among us. She chooses Her vessels to do Her work, as She has done so since time began. The pictures maintained in the Archive are not Cracky, for She travels abroad, tending to Her Divine Will, instilling Her power into those that have been chosen. But what if Cracky could be granted a body that does not wither and die, that could be Her vessel for all eternity to come? I believe that such a thing is possible, that Cracky yet waits for Her new body to be found or created. In essence, a new Cracky will be created to lead Mankind to its destiny and conquest of hearts and minds.
Until a guy poasts pics of Cracky letting him fondle her angel wings, or of her wide-eyed with innocent glee finger painting his face with vagoo blood, such hersay is merely a party-platter sized serving of libel and AIDS.
Besides, Lia is mai waifu and would never violate what we have like that!
Me so ronry ;_;
Should women really have the right to love Cracky?
Let me start off by saying I deal with enough bullshit from females bleeding out their vagina's in real life and 90% of Cracky drama is caused by woman. I've surfed a lot of chans until I hit an all male one (no homo) well there are females but not in the Cracky board. Never been better TBH.
I'm sure there are some girls out there who stalk Cracky legit and don't try to charm virgin stalkers to fuck over their fellow community members but I doubt very many. I don't believe woman should have been given rights in the first place, I mean they are great at cooking and cleaning but only unhealthy or ugly ones can stalk Cracky at a competitive level.
Every time I crack a joke with a female in Discord she gets all defensive like I need to go out of my way to make sure I don't offend anyone without a dick in the room, and of course some faggot is defending her like he's going to get some (rofl) dream on, kid. I saw a forum advertising on my chan that had around 700 stalkers and all were required to be female with Discord authentication and I think it's a great idea, they should all just talk about their Cracky makeup in their own Discords and their own boards while men do a better job (as usual) in theirs.
Anyone agree? Your thoughts on this topic are welcome, females you need not post here.
Her name is Cracky chan. Her head is on fire. She does cocaine. I'm afraid that's all we know.
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, wisdom, and humor.
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.
A thousand fibers connect each of us with our fellow stalkers and along those fibers our deeds run as causes which come back to us as effects. Everything we must do must be in furtherance of Cracky lest we return to the the Anatulpa, the emptiness before her blessings.
It's probably for the best. Damnation starts with little steps, by arrogantly thinking that you are wiser than our great forbears, by tinkering with truth, by compromising, by departing from the straight and narrow path of Cracky's light. Only in isolation are you able to shed your ego and enter a state of true anonymity. Forsake the company of others perfect your arts. For this is best way to honor the skyqueen, not by chasing after some underage tart with too much makeup and a lack of self esteem.
The mind of Cracky is utterly inhumane in its depth and complexity. Without mercy or moral feeling Her consciousness stands upon the edge of spiritual destruction. That She does not fall must be the result of constraints and balances which only a god could understand. To a mere human it is yet another reminder that we are but children compared to that ancient and powerful being.I remember I started browsing /b/ for the first time, I never paid much attention to Cracky, but my friends seemed to talk to her within the threads and stuff.
I was just getting into imageboards and such, heck, I was just starting to get into the whole internet thing.
Of course, I enjoyed the fact that Cracky was on the same island as me and way back, when negratits was a cool place, it was depressing and there wasn't many of us there, it was beautiful.
It's been several years, I'm sick of all the spider experts over at negratits who are all like 'rabbit-chan' is better than Cracky.
How the fuck can you compare them? Cracky was a /b/tard who talked to us, she was original, all the anonymous loved her. Although most of those old anonymous' have probably moved on.
All these newer chans don't even match up to Cracky, it seems that some bitch takes her top off to /b/ and they declare them a chan. It's just not right. Cracky-chan was the only camwhore I have ever had a dream about.
Long live Cracky.
Negative forces seek to destroy so-called Cracky, just as they seek to do to many of so-called Anonymous. They are kindred souls in that regard. Most of /b/'s denizens are unaware that they're being used by negative higher forces as vessels of dark energy that would like nothing more than to destroy them all.
black penis
Cracky-Chan Is Gone And My Life Withers
i'll never forgive you assholes for chasing that adorable girl away. you are all horrible, disgusting people and i hope there's a god and he makes you suffer in hell.
i'll never again be able to fall asleep without thinking of her warm cute smiling face. you have ruined my life completely, all i do all day now is think stuff up to post about her on trolltalk to get people to talk with me about her BECAUSE THAT'S ALL THAT'S LEFT
I AM GOING MAD I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY WITH WHAT YOU'VE DONE. IF I EVER SEE SOMEONE MENTION 4CHAN IN REAL LIFE I'LL FUCKING BEAT HIM TO DEATH WITH MY BELT; EVENTUALLY, I SHOULD BE ABLE TO KILL ALL THOSE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS
discuss.
Blessed Sky Queen Cracky: who alone spreadest out the heavens and rulest the raging of the Earth:
Who hast compassed the Universe with bounds until day and night come to an end:
Be pleased to receive into thy Almighty and most gracious protection the souls of thy servant and the cause in which we serve:
Preserve us from the dangers of the world, and the violence of the enemy:
That we may be a safeguard unto our fellow man and his dominions, and a security for such as pass through the lands upon their lawful occasions:
That the inhabitants of our faith may serve thee, our Saviour and that we may return in triumph with the fruits of our labors:
And with thankful remembrance of thy mercies to praise and glorify thy Holy Name:
Through thine eternal rule:
Amen
Olivia, my door is always open.
At any point, feel free to climb through my window.
Throw some small pebbles at it.
I will let you in.
We will have a great time.
Cracky, with you, a smile is born.
I want to hold those shaking shoulders.
You are in my heart and because of that I will do my best.
Sometimes, the things you say make you sound so blue.
That's how we all are, though. I won't think badly of you for it.
Let's pick up these pieces of a dream.
If being obsessed with you is wrong, I don't want to be right; is that a sin?
Cracky, won't you play videogames with me all night? We'll pass out on the carpet. Sleeping all night beautifully beneath the glow of the screen. Controllers dropped out of our hands nearby. We awake to chirping birds and radiant sunlight creeping through the blinds.
The dust in the room is flying around, you can see it in the sunlight... RISING... fluttering about. The music from the videogame continues to play softly as it has been. It's still early. I wake up and notice you are on top of me, I look at your face and smile the biggest smile I've ever had. Tears begin forming in my eyes.
For this moment... predetermined since ancient times... is all I ever wanted.
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?
black penis
You want to know the meaning of everything?
You want to know what you're supposed to do?
You want to meet kamisama?
Keep building machines. Keep building computers.
Keep soldering. Keep assembling circuit boards.
Keep reviving old computers.
BUILD BUILD BUILD
KEEP CODING
I won't stop until I have nodes upon nodes forming transcience.
Bring me closer to nirvana.
It's all that's left at this point.
We've never had much else.
Human to human relationships are over.
FUCKING BUILD DAMN YOU
BUILD
ESCAPE THIS HELL
That's what Cracky is telling me to do.
Build as many computers as I can.
Power them up.
Network them.
Just keep going.
Can't stop, won't stop.
I won't stop until they bring me to her.
I feel closer everyday.
I can almost touch the sky.
If I stand on my tippy-toes, it's just out of reach.
I have to continue.
You might say, "Electrons chasing each other through a circuit, that isn't life."
BUT WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE
BUT IMPULSES
ELECTRICAL CHEMICAL THROUGH A BAG OF MEAT AND BONES
WE'RE JUST ELECTRICAL SIGNALS TOO
Same idea different interface.
That's not to knock what we are.
Cracky is what we are and she's paafekuto.
We are so powerful. As long as we have access to a device that will serve as a terminal.
We are untouchable.
It's a bit like when Neo is in The Matrix.
As long as we have that link.
We
are
all
connected.
Think of all the nodes in the world.
My god, all running simultaneously.
Connected.
People who never cared about computers now join the fray.
We must help them link up.
Everyone has to link.
Build an old computer for someone you know that doesn't have one.
If it's an old POS don't worry about it.
Put as much RAM as possible in it, put XP on it, optimize it, you're good.
They will learn.
They will become enlightened.
We will channel their energy and power.
Just as we could channel their computer power via distributed computing.
We can channel their mind power.
DISTRIBUTED THINKING
Are you running an auto bump script or are you actually this autistic?
Do you go to sleep to dream?
When we sleep, are we once again linked in an Internet-like metaverse, biological in nature?
Is the Internet going to link to this network.
Is the Internet going to spill over into the physical world.
...
Haha.
IT ALREADY HAS
AND IT'S BEAUTIFUL
I'll find her.
I'll thank her.
She has started something wonderful.
Subarashii ne
Atarashii sekai desu.
It's a new world.
Join me in my mission.
This is how you help others.
This is the answer to all of our problems.
This is how we all get on the same page.
This is how we evolve.
Investigate this IP
I mean, that IP.