It's like, all around us. Man. The Recruitocosm is a semi-imaginary plane of existence which overlaps the exact physical geography of the state of Texas. It's reality is recognized by a substantial number of Texans and their near galactic neighbors: particularly the rabid faithful who follow college football and, most particularly, the high school football players who hope one day to be rabidly followed. It is my understanding that people tripping LSD, Max Emfinger and bullmastiffs can also see it. Sitting astride The Recruitocosm with a Jovian presence is the Planet Longhorn: whose substantial gravitiational pull tugs on the heart and minds of young satellites from El Paso to Beaumont, Laredo to Amarillo. Other planets spend agonzing weeks worrying that their orbiting moons and satellites will come too close to the Longhorn sphere of influence and be forever lost. Like clockwork, several major moons are lost every year to the large Texan spheroid-- most troublingly, even those moons and satellites which once seemed to orbit only inches from their host planet. Longhorn's pull is mighty. Even intergalactic raiders who fear no one -- from FreeShoes, Daygloworange, Drunkirish and MaizenBlue -- are wary of crossing it. To the Far East, just outside the edge of the Recruitocosm, sits the long dormant planet of Bengal -- a planet now expanding and reasserting influence on its long raided territories. Bengal's pull on the Eastern portion of the Recruitocosm is not inconsiderable. To the Far Northwest, lies Sandaggis -- an asteroid which is finally abandoning its solitary West Texas galactic ellipses and charting a new route. No one is sure where this asteroid is headed though its course will likely miss Planet Longhorn entirely. Many believe that Sandaggis will burn most bright in the heavens right before a colossal implosion. Then it will wake up on the side of the galactic highway with a hangover, a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels and a vomit-stained timepiece, the face of which reveals that it's eight hours late to an alumni meeting at space station Muleshoe. On the farthest Northern hinterland of The Recruitocosm is the dreaded Black hOUle, once dormant, now awake and hungry. It would swallow the whole Recruitocosm if it could -- and it has before. The Black hOUle is a piece in the cosmic topography feared by all -- even Planet Longhorn. For now, it largely avoids Planet Longhorn, choosing to bide its time, but it feasts viciously on other less formidable planets to gain strength for the Big Showdown that will one day come. Get out a map of the Recruitocosm (you have it in your car glovebox). Look at the geography. Now draw triangles around the places where one finds the best moons and satellites. Now draw small Ptolemaic expanding circles from each planet, asteroid and body of The Recruitocosm and see where they overlap. Factor in the relative power and pull of those bodies on those iosceles full of moons and satellites. Now ask yourself: where would you NOT want to be? Now imagine that you're THERE. A lonely astral body located directly between Longhorn and Bengal. When you stray, your favorite paths of orbit are directly between the Black hOUle and Longhorn. Every time you pass between them, you're rocked. Even the asteroid Sandaggis strafes you from time to time. Your planet is being ripped asunder and your moons are growing sparse. Now imagine that, instead of observing what's happening to your planet and debating other courses of action, you decide that you'll simply deny the existence of The Recruitocosm entirely. You have now trascended the Recruitocosm and are moving to a more rural plane: a sort of gravy stained Elysian Fields. There is only one planet in the universe, your planet, Planet Reveille. Her moons are Forney, Skidmore and Naaman Forest. Your name is Commandante Buttpot. You have mild acne. Your 36 inch paramilitary toy soldier chest is emblazoned with medals for sodomy compliance. You grew up in a Houston suburb yet now you pretend you're country. You have named your truck. You say things like "Whoop!" and "Hullabaloo Caneck Caneck" with no hint of irony. Go ahead...scream. No one can hear you. You have entered THE AGGIECOSM! Assimilate or be destroyed.
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! CLASSIC! Cakes "The budget should be balanced; the treasury should be refilled; public debt should be reduced; and the arrogance of public officials should be controlled." -Cicero. 106-43 B.C.
This is good. Real good. I have nothing to add. I added stuff anyway. Tinkles will still be a Sooner. ---------------------------- Mediocrity: It takes a lot less time and most people won't notice the difference until you get your *** kicked on television.
Please remove this crapitation posthaste. THIS IS THE RECRUITING BOARD, GODDAMMMIT!!!!!!!! And as such, it must be entered and treated with kid gloves at worst, and the commensurate reverance and defference that God His Ownself gives to HIS chosen few at best! Scipio666Tex should be banished for life. f**k you, Scip, you Satan worshipererrrrerrrr!!! beowulf, who watches over the FLOCK at night. Hook'em."> )
speachless. I'm very seriously considering going and getting ****** up so I can come back and read it again in a state of mind more in touch with the original post. "It's like your dreaming Gorganzola cheese when it's clearly Brie time Baby."
So if I've followed this correctly, Aggiecosm is somewhere between Borg Assimilation and the Twilight Zone? I think I'm more interested in the relative maws of Planet Longhorn and Black HOUle. Since it is a question of mass alone and not energy (read: talent), wouldn't the dominant sphere of influence be ultimately determined by sheer number of students, alumni and assorted camp followers? You know Houlers have not much else to do up there besides rally to their Spaceschooner. Scary on the face of it. We have to expand our Conspiracy. To Inhornity & beyond!
So that explains why my bullmastiff, Hercules, gets so excited and runs to try and jump in my lap (all 155 lbs of him) when I get on the computer to look at recruiting. WOW! Deeeeep! Hook'em
No, dammit, Tinkles is like a fullback. Great work, Scipio - it's a pleasure doing business with your animus.
Although the recruitocosm and aggiecosm once coexisted in relative intergalactic proximity (during the now forgotten mackovician epoch), the "BigMac Bang" has sent the two states of consciousness hurling away from each other at such a rapid rate of speed that in 3 short years the expanse between the two can only be measured in parsecs. It won't be long until aggiecosm can only be detected using an x-ray telescope as faint background radiation. Thanks, Hubble.
It's like reading Thomas Pynchon, with his intricate symbolic order and all. I will be publishing Cliff Notes (ala Encylopaedia Brittannica with Dennis Miller) as soon as I sober up. Cakes "The budget should be balanced; the treasury should be refilled; public debt should be reduced; and the arrogance of public officials should be controlled." -Cicero. 106-43 B.C.
At long last, scientific evidence providing the quintessential answer to texlarry's question. Thank Heaven for Coach Eddie 'Jelly' Watson
You forgot to mention the picture of the dead dog's, the Commander Cespoole, has on his night stand. The last thing he sees at night, the first thing in the morning, thing. Great post Hook 'EM
Scipio Tex, dude, you rock... so one of the perks of working in the pharmaceutical industry is having a constant supply of the goodies? awesome post... *********************************************** 10-0 heading into Kyle Field on T+1 2001
And to think, I felt that the original Tinkles post could not be topped. This makes it damn close. Great post. Hook'em Horns.
Heaven help them if planet CougerHigh gets its act together. Where do they go then? -- "Nothing you can say takes me by surprize."
"Your 36 inch paramilitary toy soldier chest is emblazoned with medals for sodomy compliance." Sheer genius. I'm changing it from Classic Posts to Classic Scripio. "alright brain, I don't like you and you don't like me, but let's just get through this, and I can get back to killing you with beer" ---Homer Simpson
Would "Sandaggis" be like Arakkis? An arid, forbidden, windswept planet on the fringes of the known universe who produces the one element that makes intergalactic travel possible? Well, I guess they do have oil on the Permian Basin and we all know the dust storms are one of Lubbock's primary tourist attractions. I guess that analogy holds. Mike Leach is no Moad Dib, though. I could see Phil Fulmer as the Baron Harkonnen. But, we weren't discussing him. Or were we? Mack Brown is the Kwisatz Haderat!!!! The sleeper has awakened!!!!! Too much "Dune", KB and mushrooms for me, dude. Mental note: I must lay off the David Lynch movies. What's your excuse? Hook 'em! "The gods told me to relax, they say I'm gonna be fixed up right..."
