The Rant

The Rant is the ancient Form of Discordian Discourse; it is the very essence of Erisian Enlightenment (also, an alliterative allegory [when warranted]).
      A good Rant is a truly wonderful thing; only a select few ever manage to get their psychological boogie-boards properly aligned to catch the wave of the Madness (which is the Truth without its Nutrasweetened carob coating) that flows from Our Lady (though every person who has ever lived has at least one Rant in them). When it happens, though, you can almost feel the pentaverse warping like a Huey Lewis and the News record in a blast furnace.
      Rants tend to occur at around 4 AM, when the mind has the approximate consistency of taffy (this is important, because trying to Rant with a rigid mind is like trying to tie a knot in a candy cane). The Rant usually starts before the ranter knows what's hitting him, and subisdes whenever it does. Usually, the ranter is then in need of a little lie down.
      The power of the Rant comes from the fact that it manages to make sense without being coherent (to steal a wonderful analogy from Pope Icky Fundament, a good Rant makes The Wall look like it has the linearity of a Matlock episode). It is, at its finest, undeniably true nonsense which gives a glimpse of the ultimate insanity of all reality. Occasionally, it's something else entirely.
      A Rant cares not one whit for logic, etiquette or, really, anything else.
      However it manifests, though, you'll know it when you see it or, if you are very, very fortunate, when it happens to you.
      Here, for your edification, is a really fine rant or two.