At last, the long-awaited sequel to the underground bestseller, The Book of the SubGenius--an even more radical, more twisted, and more hilarious journey into the wild world of "Bob." With an appendix of epistles and apostles, this is the most intoxicating portrait yet of the Church of the SubGenius and its infamous leader.
What a total waste of time. The Book of the Subgenius was a brilliant satire with actual historical information on the life of J.R. "Bob" Dobbs. This book is little more than a long winded repetitious rant by some guys who were picked last during high school gym class and want to get back at all the good looking, popular people. All it preaches is hate. If not for the interesting pictures throughout I am sure I never would have finished it. Or at least it would have taken me much longer. But I'm sure I would have stopped. Or could have. If I had wanted to. But I chose not to. Because.
The author claims that the pictures have hidden subliminal messages that only Yetynsyn can see. Apparently the bulk of these messages boil down to "Send $30 to the Subgenius Foundation". I don't know, I certainly didn't see anything. I'm sure the SGF will put the $30 I sent to good use, but I sent it voluntarily, not because of some silly drawings. I'm not some fool that can be tricked into shelling out $30 for some lame clip art and a few cheap pamphlets. But where else could I get an 8x11 picture of "Bob" suitable for framing? I just felt I had to have it. As if my life had lacked meaning until I could sit and bask in the glory of "Bob" every day. I also bought a pair of boxing gloves, so now I can stare at "Bob" without risking scratching my eyes out. Instead I just stare until a punch myself unconscious trying to scratch my eyes out while wearing boxing gloves. They all laughed at my bloody, puffy face at "work", so I jumped off the Conspiracy hamster wheel. Screw them and the chocolate triceratops they rode in on! There's plenty of good food in the dumpster behind the Piggly Wiggly, and now I have all the time I need to collect Slack.
Another strange collection of readings . . . incomprehensible to the average "pink" boy, but not to me. All about learning your true identity as a Yeti-descended superior being, and how to make the normals pay for how they treat us. I got some very funny attention for reading this when I was in high school. Some girls in my chorus class were asking me if it was a religious book because of the word "revelation," and after some poking I explained the concept to them. One of them gave me a look and said, "Well, isn't that a little bit silly?" I immediately replied that it wasn't any sillier to imagine we were going to get taken to Heaven by a guy who'd been dead for 2000 years as long as we just believe it's true. I don't think she liked my answer. Ivan Stang did, though. (I told him about it in a letter and he actually answered me. Heh.)
Aieieieieieieieieieie! More details covered for the growing unrest of a nation of outcasts looking for the island of misfit toys...Connie shares her secrets.....frop oh sweet frop how I long to take you into my lungs so I may travel down "Bob"'s pipe, so I may re-member with another dimension again! Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke.
A second collection of ravings, high weirdness, and perfect wisdom that you can download directly into your mind toilet through your eye sockets. This book both mocks and praises the concept of outsider superiority, provides sarcastic and satirical peeks at religion, and encourages you to not do what it tells you and to do what it does not tell you. It's not exactly smart all the time, but the weirdness of it will poke you constantly. This was the kind of thing I liked reading aloud while standing on my bed while I was in high school. Pretend to take it seriously so no one will know if you're serious.
confirmation of a most heinous and brutally honest nature if you want to know what you know what you know what you know and wish you didnt bob is our only hope