TESTIMONIALS

Submit your scriptural writings for inclusion in the Loose Canon, and your tales of ancient FSM Lore, as well as any other FSM-related writing you may have.

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TESTIMONIALS

Postby Solipsy on Sat Sep 17, 2005 12:18 pm

No rules! Just a suggestion for this thread: If you've had a vision or conversion experience, taken a "trip" of any sort *ahem* that has led you to new insight, or have some other kind of "story" about how you were Touched By His Noodly Appendage, you might want to include it here. (Think: The Book of Your Name Here. might want to have some lenght to it.?) I started this thread for purposes of organizing the Loose Canon, so some poor schmo won't be stuck doing it on his/her own later.

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Postby Qwertyuiopasd on Mon Sep 19, 2005 7:50 pm

what if its a story about somebody ELSE getting touched by his noodly appendage. spesiccifally, an action packed story about a fictional pirate character getting touched. spesifically, FPP.

?
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.............

Postby Solipsy on Mon Sep 19, 2005 9:05 pm

excellent question! That would go exactly in this thread, just as the Acts of the Apostles are accounts of such deeds and witnessings. It would go in this very thread!
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Postby Qwertyuiopasd on Mon Sep 19, 2005 10:34 pm

actually, If i may, i would create my own thread, as this is going to be rather large (i hope). besides, I'm not writing it all in one night and posting it, and if im doint it in increments, and others are too, then we have a bunch of random crap piled together. so I'ma make me own thread fer Fearsome Pirate Pete.

AIght?
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....

Postby Solipsy on Mon Sep 19, 2005 11:45 pm

FYI, I'm c/v'ing the livin' jebeezus outta everything within these threads, and organizing it within my own text files so eventually we can have a separate, transportable "book-style" doc. I'm not changing a word, a spelling, a sentence, an idea - Nothing. If there's an issue, I try to communicate on the board or by PM or e-mail. Everything is getting organized and credited. Thus the Testimonial of Fearsome Pirate Pete is being tracked and attributed to you under your user name. If creating your own thread is what works for ya, though, His Great and Noodly Sauceness created us all with free will. ;)
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Postby Sylvie369 on Tue Sep 20, 2005 9:34 am

I was walking down the street at night, far away from anyone. Suddenly I felt as though someone were watching me, guiding me towards safety. I eventually made it safely home!

I'd like to see you explain THAT through your godless evolution theory!
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Postby Qwertyuiopasd on Tue Sep 20, 2005 4:14 pm

don't you mean you thought someone was watching you, and then you felt something ELSE guide you home safely?

or were you lost?


and now fer me testimonial. the :fsm: came to me, and told me that once, a bout a decade or so ago, the vile serpent Atkins overturned a bus taking sinners to the beer volcano and stripper facotry for the weekend. he led them to freedom. or rather, he helped them escaped, and then he and they wandered around infiniteness for a while, before stumbling upon a reigion of the Heaven's beach so far south, ne'er did a Pastafarian dare come there. and thus Atkins established the South Beach. his power had become so great, that he could now have the power to rescue his followers from the Bus, and come to the South Beach, where they would plot, and re-incarnate themselves to earth, where they would plague the resturants with low-carb menus.

damn atkins.
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Postby Sylvie369 on Wed Sep 21, 2005 12:11 am

Qwertyuiopasd wrote:don't you mean you thought someone was watching you, and then you felt something ELSE guide you home safely


Okay, that would be fine, as long as it can't be explained through evolution, because then my wonderful story would be pointless.
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Postby Sylvie369 on Wed Sep 21, 2005 12:15 am

Sylvie369 wrote:Okay, that would be fine, as long as it can't be explained through evolution, because then my wonderful story would be pointless.


Oops - did I say that out loud? :oops:
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Postby Qwertyuiopasd on Wed Sep 21, 2005 5:45 pm

Sylvie369 wrote:Oops - did I say that out loud? :oops:


yeah, you did. but you still didn't really answer my question "whatever works for you"

?

i was just trying to clarify if it was the same person watching you as who guided you home, or someone was stalking you, then a seperate "thing"
guided you home, or whatever.
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Postby Sylvie369 on Wed Sep 21, 2005 7:56 pm

Qwertyuiopasd wrote:i was just trying to clarify if it was the same person watching you as who guided you home, or someone was stalking you, then a seperate "thing"
guided you home, or whatever.


Oh, you're right - it's a much better story if I felt someone evil watching me, and then something mysterious but shepherdly coming along and guiding my home. Yeah, yeah, that's what happened. And evolution can't explain it, right? That's gotta be in there, you know.
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..........

Postby Solipsy on Wed Sep 21, 2005 8:48 pm

The Book of Solipsy
A testimony


For much time did I rest upon my bed in state of revelry and fever, for cold viruses are annoying, and His Holy Cough Medicines do occasionally keep me from sleeping. As I pondered His general tastiness, I thought that perhaps it would be his Holy Meal which would return to me my appetite. Thus, did I prepare The Meal, but of it I could not eat. Instead, I sat and stared into the mass which doth so perfectly represent His Form. How long I sat, I know not, but what filled me were Holy Visions of His Wisdom, and His blessed hopes for the happiness of our lives as His creations and amidst His creations. What follows are the True and Holy Words I was blessed to hear:

Thus He Spake:

Begrudge not unto anyone the chosen spirituality that is helpful to them, should it
be functional within the real world. My Words shall remind My Creations that, as has been said, there are few atheists on crashing airplanes. Thy life is precious. Desire that yourself and each among you shall have life as long and fun as possible. Hurt no one intentionally, if it can be helped. Be not thou limited by some set of dysfunctional rules in a book that didn't even work 2000 years ago. (Hence all the smiting, crucifying, and such that the book contains.)Update thy thinking to meet with circumstances as they exist around thee. There shall be no shame in it among the intelligent, sayeth I, Who Flies and Is the One True Monster of Steaming Spaghetti.

If ye possess any sense at all, it is already known unto you that killing is wrong, stealing is bad, and cheating on ones’ espoused love does hurt that person deeply. If ye do these things, ye know it is bad, and should suffer great shame, and should be held accountable. Ye already know this unless ye be dumb as the stone of which is made the mountain. If that is what thee wish to claim, even that shall not be thy defense, though it certainly be true. Thus say I, Whose Appendages Be Noodly and Do Touch.

Be good to thine parents should they deserve it, if they did as best they could for you, providing you what they were able and what their resources would allow. Desert them not if in their times of need, and return their kindness, for they are like you, My Creations. If they have beaten you or otherwise been horrible, abusive, interfering jerks who do things to make you miserable, I approve that you may move across the country and out of their presence, and be not even obligated to send them birthday cards. You need only honor them to the degree to which they deserve it, but to that degree you MUST honor them. Should you fail in this, my Noodly Displeasure shall you incur, and you shall be held most shallow and selfish, and shame shall be upon you, say I, Your Tasty and Cheese-Topped One.

As for lies, to tell large or illegal falsehoods is most sinful, and those among you with sense already know that. To boast or brag of that which one has not done is most idiotic, and the product of insecurity and childishness. Often the male compelled to tell the boastful lies is the possessor of small intimate parts. If the accursed liar be female, often she is an attention-seeking twit, and you need not abide her company, declare I, Your Extruded and Basil-Garnished One.

Small lies, however, maketh the world to turn upon its axis. If ye be dense, I shall clarify: Should ye be asked, for instance, if thine spouses’ clothing makes such spouse look fat, ye are to respond with effusive praise of thy loved one’s attractiveness and lack of heft, true or not. If thine neighbor should inquire if a gift of cookies were tasty, ye shall reply yea, verily they were most delicious, even though they may have disgusted thee, and ye may have thrown them down the garbage disposer. Should thy aged Grandmother inquire if the Sunday potroast was pleasing, thou shalt not reply that it was tough and flavorless, though it were. No! Thou shalt reply that it was a beefy roast unto heaven. Should thy co-worker present thee with a picture of her niece, thou shalt not cry out in horror at the ugliness of the child, for to do so would be rude. Rather, thou must say, verily, what a darling! Art thou catching on, or art thou thick-skulled and dim-witted, ask I, Your Rounded Meaty and Sauced One…

As for five other “commandmentsâ€￾ with which ye may have familiarity, do as ye will, sayeth the FSM. If some other spirit or power shall catch thy fancy and be of use to thee in time of need, go for it, say I, Your Wise One. Use that spirit not to condemn others, however, for that is among the only times I shall feel compelled to rain down molten sauce upon thee. The Flying Spaghetti Monster will abide no condemnation of His Creatures. If some spirit shall claim that it alone is the one true spirit, and all others will lead to the path of condemnation, then thou shall be mightily suspicious that such a spirit is full of deceit, and THAT spirit is the path of great unhappiness and condemnation. Beware, warn I, of the Semolina and the Tomato.

If ye are compelled to draw a picture or sculpt a likeness of that which exists in creation, why on earth is that a bad idea, asks the FSM. To forbid it would be gobbledygook. If thou should like thy neighbor’s car better than thine own, and wish to have one as nice, wherein lies the harm? Again, why waste time calling this sin, ask I, Your Noodly and Appendaged One.

If ye shall forget occasionally which day of the week it is because thy schedule is overbooked or thou art ill or on vacation, pick some other day to have a Holy Meal of My Offering. Kick back and drink a brewsky. Watch a movie. Relax. I will smite the not for such a silly thing on few occasions. Should thou stub one’s toe mightily upon a rock, or lose one’s wallet or car keys, or find oneself in some other moment in which thou finds it helpful or humorous to cry out HOLY FLYING SPAGHETTI MONSTER, or FLYING SPAGHETTI MONSTER DAMN IT!!!!, fear not, for I find it kind of funny, and also funny that it shall cause those around thee to look upon thee as if thou art marginally insane. Shout away, say I, Your Glutinous and Whimsically Shaped Lord.

That, my True Believers, is the easy stuff. As my Pastafarians, whom I have gathered together and have touched with mine Noodly Appendages, I call upon thee to go beyond ten rules, five of which are blatantly obvious and five of which are stupid. When thou see people in need – those who have less than thee, those who are ill, those who are young, old, helpless in any way – help them in any way you are able. Even if you are of meager means, share what you have, for that is where many another religion fails. Do better and be examples, instruct I, Your Wiggly Creator of All that is Taught as Science.

I, an Invisible Giant Floating Glob of Sauce-Covered Noodles and Round Meat, have no need for your money or resources, BUT, your fellow humans do. I appreciate your love and praise and such, but lots of people right around your immediate vicinity need your love and worldy resouces a whole lot more. Don’t be so idiotic as to throw your money at people who live in mansions and beseech thee for thy cash, and speak as if endowed with authority from other giant, invisible thingees. Come on, people. Wise up, say I, Your Holy Boiled Grain-Based Nutritious One.

If ye have been blessed with great resources, such as to have been born with a silver spoon in your mouth, ye are to remember that it is not thine spit which hath coated that spoon with silver. Thou should be especially grateful for thy blessings, and especially giving of thy resources. Ye will not be taking it with you into the Stripper Factory, nor need it at the Beer Volcano. Money is only good for the good it can do the living. Quit being so greedy, for greed is vile unto me and unto your fellow Creations, say I, Your Well-Seasoned Al dente One.

Be active in your government, and stand against those things which are unfair and make no sense. Be civil in your disagreements for they shall always be with thee, and rational in your debates, for ye shall always have them. Do you really need a Giant Glob of Noodles, Sauce, and Meat to tell you this? Do you really need to drink the transubstantiated blood of some historical personage to make you feel superior? The Flying Spaghetti Monster is a little freaked out by that, frankly. Get a grip, instruct I, Your Wise and Floating Saucy Monster.

Ye have been born, ye are alive, and ye shall die. It’s the “ye are aliveâ€￾ part that should concern ye most at the moment. Yes, the Beer Volcano and Stripper Factory of Heaven await thee, and are currently under construction, but ye shall not be so gullible as to count on what ye as yet have no evidence to support. Well, that is how I wish ye would think, anyway. But, since ye apparently aren’t quite there yet, if Intelligent Design is to be considered Science, then since every word of My Great Creation of the Universe is True, it shall thusly be considered Science, and thusly taught as well. Proclaim I, Your Wondrous Glob in Heaven.

And finally, when bad things doth befall ye as they will, ye are constantly carping “why me, what did I do to deserve it, why, why, why???â€￾ My Noodlyness heareth not ye bother to ask such when good things doth befall ye. Yet, the question is just as valid, and the answer is the same. Ponder that as ye partake of mine holy meal…


And then did I return from my fevered revelry, to find my flattened butt still in my kitchen chair, with a cold plate of His Holy Meal in front of me, and a paper inscribed with his inspired words, and a ball-point pen run out of ink… I rushed to my microwave and reheated my meal, for it was a miracle! My appetite had returned, and I did eat, and praise Him, and return to my bed and fall to a deep slumber. In the morning, I re-read His Holy Words, and did check them for typos and misspellings. Truly, I am humbled. Truly, by His Wisdom, we are blessed! All Praise the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
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Postby Qwertyuiopasd on Wed Sep 21, 2005 9:17 pm

holy damn thats long.

holy... damn... isn't that an oxymoron?
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Postby Disco on Fri Sep 23, 2005 5:14 pm

Disco II

As I was taking my long and boring standardized tests this week, I was told by our noodly master a set of directions to base my faith of him on. The entire conversation took a mere 13.2393487 seconds, as this is the holy number of the noodles. Although that may seem to be a short amount of time in human time, to beings of a higher evoltionary status it is infact the equivalent of 23 human years. This was what happened:





Me: Why hello your noodley pirateness

FSM:GYayusuiHFSiy daosu Ofsus GEMEIN!!

Me: ??????

FSM: Oh yes you don't speak Guysdns do you?

Me: No I do not, I am not worthy of such and honor.

FSM: Yes you are right it is quite an honor to speak the tounge.

Me: Tell me Spaghetti, how do I become honorable enough to participate in these said activites?

FSM: First you must remain faithful to me and only me. Why you ask? Because I am cool. Second you can make me offerings, spaghetti, pasta whatever suits your fancy. Thirdly you must promote the word of me but only in moderation, nobody likes a pasta thumper.

FSM: After that and you have proven yourself will you be able to participate in these sorts of activities. If you purposefully do not do these activities even when reminded by fellow pastafarians, you will be sent to spaghetti hell, which is BAAAAAAAAAAAD! This shall be taken lightly as I am lazy and don't wanna fill out the paperwork.

FSM: Which brings me to another point,

Paperwork = BAAAAAAAAAAAD

Paperwork is the spawn of ninja! Those who like paperwork are petty buerocrats who like cubicles. Who really wants to fill out the paperwork? If any paperwork is to be filled out I send it down to my lesser pirates to do it as they are my humble servants. They serve but do not govern.


Me: So this means I should probably get a job that requires thinking?

FSM: Exactly my point young lad! I think you'll grow up to be a fine young pastafarian! I think lyrics of this song should guide you,


Lucy in the skyyyyy with diamonds.


FSM: As this 13 seconds is about over I am going to end this conversation

Me: BYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEE

*Poof*



And thats how it happened, how I learned about life, work and how terrible paperwork is.


:( Man I couldn't think of anything else at the moment so solypsies is like 2000000000x longer :(!
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The Book of David Ichiban Bach I

Postby IchibanHashi on Tue Sep 27, 2005 6:02 pm

The Book of Ichiban Bach I

His Noodlyness, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, lacked recognition, and so sought to spread His Word. Into the hands of wise men, he placed the seeds of knowledge that might sprout piety. His Noodlyness appeared to Grey, who He knew would provide a bridge between the realm of man, and the realm of pasta.

In a dream, He spoke to Grey:

Grey, know that I am your Lord and Master, the FSM. Know that through you, my Noodly Appendage is Manifest. In Manifest, thou wilt inform those whosoever thou shouldst see most fitting to rally My people. Thou shalt inform him of the Holiness of Pirates, of my call for their return. Thou shalt inform him of The Holy Meal, and its importance. Thou shalt inform him of Bobby, and thou shalt guide him to Bobby. Only then, will thy task be complete.

And then, knowing and accepting his task, Grey awoke with a mighty, "YARR!"

Yet untouched by his Noodly Appendage, fate would have it that placed in the path of Bach, was Grey, the scripture-bearing man of wisdom. More precisely, this scripture was the Word of Bobby. Bach read The Document and felt His touch. He was changed, no longer lost to the perplexing void of agnosticism, but now encompassed by His Infinate Noodlyness.

Upon completeing the Document, a vision came over Bach: A strand of cooked spaghetti shot from Bach. It shot beyond the room in which he stood, beyond the earth's atmosphere, beyond the stars and planets, beyond time and space itself. It was here that Bach saw his Noodly Master, who then spoke:

Bach! I had charged Grey with the task of informing you of My Word. Through Grey I was made Manifest, and through that vessel, I reached out to you. Grey's task is complete, but for you, I have a task of great importance, a task which may prove lifelong... be you willing to accept? Wilt thou accept my noodly appendage to remain Manifest?

For a moment, Bach was astonished, but he felt His touch, and knew it to be right. Confidently, Bach replied: "YAR! Whatever ye be chargin' me with, Oi do mos' humble accept! Yer Noodlyness hath scooped o't me entails, boil'd 'em, 'n returned 'em fortified w'starch. Oi be a bloody villain 'fOi not be acceptin' 'o yer charge"

Good then, Bach! Thine decision pleases me, now shalt this single strand be fortified and twined to last for all time!

Then, from beyond time and space came cascading noodles, twining and braiding as they came.

I provide thou with an unseverable connection to my Noodly Appendage, now through you I am Manifest.

Suddenly the vision came to an end, and Bach found himself sitting alone facing a black wall, he knew what course to take:

Closely following Bach's vision was the holiest day of the year: International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Bach decided to assemble regalia and wear it throughout this most holy day, regardless of the consequence.

On the eve of International Talk Like a Pirate Day, Bach set out his Regalia, partook of the Holy Meal, and sought rest early. He awoke early to meditate on the tasks at hand. He was at first uneasy about his decision, but no sooner had he felt the first pang of uncertainty than all reality melted away to reveal the infinate noodliness that encompassed all. The FSM then spoke:

Be not afaid Bach, for no matter the outcome, thou wilt be executing my divine Word. From't no harm can be done, to't no harm can be done. Worry not, as all will be well, I am through you Manifest. Be at peace, Bach.

Bach ended his meditiation abruptly with a "YAR!" of confidence, then donned his Regalia and set off.

Bach was at first unopposed and wore his regalia proudly, but, before long, was challenged by Bierul the Giant, master of the first eighth. "No 'ats een d'buildeen, BACH!" cried Bierul. The bellowing voice shook Bach to his very foundation. He braced himself and found strength in His Noodlyness, at which time he responded: "yar, there be a clause in d' no 'at rule ye be brandishin' 'round. Ye see, it be permitted fer 'ats t'be donned fer religous reasonin..."

But before Bach's argument had been heard out, Bierul struck him down with his fearsome cane, "Yees'ot two choicees: firstly, yoo can t'k off d'at. Secondly, yoo can face Hale." Bach knew that he would most likely have to face Hale, master the eighths, and was about to meet Bierul's threat head-on, when he felt a tug on his Appendage Manifestation and heard His voice:

Though thine intent fall on the boat, don't be too eager to set sail. My word spreads, let it reverberate fore thy encounter with the master of the eighths. Thine boat yet requires a hull, without which it will sink. When the time is right, thou wilt know. When the time is right, act on it, but do not risk the peril of premature action.

"So, wot'll eet be," demanded Bierul. "Oi be taken off me hat, Bierul, but in soul, it remain where it now lie," responded Bach, as he scornfully removed his hat, and took seat amongst the subjects of the first eighth.

And so Bach was persecuted, but at the begining of the second eighth, he readorned his hat anew. Meller, master of the second eighth, recieved his Noodly Appendage, and even had Bach speak His word to the class. The third and fourth eighths went by without notice, but as Bach traveled to the room of the fifth eighth a voice decreed "Eh! Captain Ahab! Teke off th' hat!" The FSM sent along his twined appendage:

Now is the time, Bach! Now! With all that thy have, let thine faith pour from thy mouth like beer from our heavenly volcano!

"Teke off th' hat, please," commanded Nor. With a ferver, Bach replied, "Ay, that I shan't be doin'. This be me Regalia, and I shan't be takin' it off. It be a divine decree that I should be wearin' it. Shouldst I need to be speakin wit' a man higher up 'an yerself to rectify this problem, I be glad to comply." And so it happened that Bach was directed to Hale, the master of the eighths.

Bach entered the master of the eighth's chambers, and was met by a wench. "Wot's 'e matter? Wot you need'e see Hale fer," inquired the wench. "Oi be needin' to see the master of the eighth's to rectify a conflict o' faith an' law," replied Bach. He was then seated to wait, as Hale was busy with mastering the eighths. As he waited, for audience with Hale, Bach encountered Reldnarch, the pirate. Bach and Reldnarch exchanged piratey words, and then he departed. With his spirits bolstered by this encoutner, Bach was called back to see Hale.

"What is all this about FSMism that I hear?" Asked Hale.

"Oi, ye see, I was wearin' me hat in celebration o' th' day, when I wos accosted boi a man who told me Oi couldn't wear me hat! 'E said 'at I should 'ave a word wit' you an' that would be that and Oi could wear my 'at! So, I come to yer and ask yer kindly 'at you respect me rights and let me wear me hat," Bach replied.

Hale stared at Bach for a moment, unsure of what to say. Out of this moment of silence Bach's confidence grew, and when Hale spoke, it almost did not matter what words he would speak, for nothing he could possibly say would sway Bach's faith.

"Well, you see: We only have one instance where an individual is allowed to wear a hat here, and he had a letter from a religious figure. If you can obtain such a letter, we might resume this conversation," said Hale.

With this ultimatum, Bach was barred from wearing his hat, however, he contacted His Holyness, Bobby, for a letter of the required specifications.

[--***This is where my story ends for now, as Bobby has agreed to write me a letter, but has not yet done so. Also, this is a rough draft, subject to change. I hope you all enjoy it, I know that I enjoyed writing it. RAmen!***--][/i]
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