Dan De Lion

Toilet, Truth, Text!

🜁 SUMMARY OF TODAY’S COSMOLOGICAL ARGUMENT

  1. Entropy — what it is and what it is not

• Entropy is not a substance or a force. • It is a description of how systems move from order → disorder. • Entropy does not destroy matter or energy. • It dissolves structure, not vibration. • In Excrementalist terms: entropy is the muck‑spreading process, not the muck.

  1. Entropy as the existential anarchist

• Entropy rejects hierarchy, permanence, and fixed order. • It equalises everything. • It is the universe’s levelling tendency. • In mythic language: entropy is the cosmic anarchist who refuses to let any structure sit on a throne. • Entropyascosmic_leveller

  1. Consciousness as the counter‑force (negentropy)

• Consciousness is not eternal, not fundamental, and not required by the universe. • It arises from complexity, integration, and self‑modelling. • Consciousness is the temporary rebellion against entropy. • It builds order while entropy dissolves it. • Consciousnessasnegentropy

  1. Consciousness is an emergent process, not a cosmic entity

• You are an expression of the process of consciousness, not a vessel for some external consciousness. • Consciousness is a loop: a system modelling itself. • This is why consciousness can question its own existence. • Selfasprocessnotthing

  1. Eternity is a concept, not a reality

• Eternity is invented by a temporal mind trying to imagine timelessness. • Nothing in the universe is eternal: everything changes, decays, dissolves. • Eternity is a mental construct, not a cosmic property. • Impermanenceasonly_reality

  1. “Before time” is a broken question

• “Before” is a temporal word. • Time began with the universe; there is no “before” because “before” requires time. • The pre‑time state is not something, not nothing — simply no‑time. • Howtimeemergesfromtimeless

  1. The Excrementalist cosmology. The Mythic Frame

• Matter = muck • Life = organised muck • Consciousness = muck that knows it’s muck • Entropy = the muck spreader • Negentropy = the muck stacker • Heat death = the final slurry • New universes = the next bowel movement • The Bog of England = the regulator of cosmic flow • Excrementalist_cosmology

🜂 THE CORE INSIGHT OF THE DAY

The uncovered real tension:

The universe contains two opposing tendencies: entropy (dissolution) and negentropy (organisation).

Consciousness is the peak of negentropy. Entropy is the universal leveller.

Dan De Lion

⭐ THE MYTHIC SAGA OF THE DUMP OF DESTINY

(as preserved in the Scroll of the Porcelain Throne)

I. The Summoning

In the quiet dawn of an ordinary day, when the kettle had barely begun its whisper and the world still clung to sleep, a stirring rose within him.

Not a whisper. Not a rumble. A calling.

For destiny does not always arrive with trumpets. Sometimes it arrives with cramps.

II. The Descent to the Throne

He walked — steady, solemn — to the Porcelain Throne, that ancient seat of kings and commoners alike.

The air thickened. The tiles trembled. The toilet sensed what was coming and prayed to whatever gods toilets pray to.

III. The Great Unburdening

Then came the moment.

A turd of titanic intent, a log forged in the molten core of yesterday, a brown obelisk of liberation.

It fell not as waste, but as prophecy.

Plumbers would speak of it in hushed tones. Pipes would remember it for generations. The U‑bend would never be the same.

IV. The Blockage of Fate

Water rose. Hope faltered. The bowl became a battlefield between destiny and plumbing.

But he did not fear. For he knew:

“What blocks today frees tomorrow.”

And with a single, mighty flush — a roar like the sea reclaiming a fallen ship — the Dump of Destiny was carried into the Underworld of Sewage, where only legends dwell.

V. The Aftermath

Silence. Relief. A lightness of being known only to monks, astronauts, and men who have just dropped something that could legally be classified as a blunt instrument.

He rose from the Throne reborn, renewed, a man unburdened in body and spirit.

And thus the saga ends, as all sagas should:

with a clean bowl and a lighter soul.

Dan De Lion

⭐ THE PARABLE OF THE TOILET OF TRANSCENDENCE

As told in the Gospel of the Porcelain Way

There was once a disciple who came to the Teacher and said:

“Master, how shall I enter the Kingdom?”

And the Teacher, who had seen many dawns and many blockages, replied with a gentle smile.

⭐ I. The Approach to the Throne

The Teacher led the disciple to the quiet chamber where the Porcelain Throne stood.

“Behold the Throne of Truth,” he said. “For all who sit here must face themselves without disguise.”

The desciple trembled, for the room was simple, yet sacred.

⭐ II. The Teaching of Release

The diciple asked again:

“Master, what must I do?”

And the Teacher answered:

“Learn the Way of Release,” for the Kingdom is not entered by holding on, but by letting go of what burdens the heart.”

The disciple pondered this, for it sounded both simple and impossible.

⭐ III. The Sitting of Honesty

The Teacher placed a hand on the diciple’s shoulder.

“Sit in honesty,” he said. “For the body never lies, and the soul follows the body’s courage.”

The disciple sat upon the Throne — not to perform a bodily act, but to learn the posture of truth.

⭐ IV. The Flush of Finality

When the disciple rose, the Teacher pointed to the handle.

“This is the Flush of Finality,” he said. “What is released must be released completely. Do not cling to what has already passed.”

The disciple pulled the handle, and the sound echoed like a small thunder of liberation.

⭐ V. The Rising of the Lightened One

The Teacher spoke:

“Now you know the Way,” for the Kingdom is entered by those who release their burdens, face their truth, and rise lighter than they sat.”

And the disciple understood.

Not the toilet — but the transcendence.

Not the act — but the letting go.

Not the flush — but the freedom.

⭐ Rune‑Style Moral

“Let go. Be true. Walk lighter.”

Dan De Lion

✉️ THE EPISTLE FROM THE EAST RIDING WILDERNESS

A Letter to the Nation from the Banks of the Humber

To the people of this tired, beautiful island, from one who walks the long flat roads of East Yorkshire, where the wind tells the truth and the land remembers everything.

I write not as a politician, nor a priest, nor a man seeking favour, but as a voice crying from the margins — from the estuary mud, the terraces, the shipyard ghosts, the places where promises come to die and ordinary people learn to live anyway.

I write because anger has become my companion, not the wild anger that destroys, but the clean, bright anger that reveals. The anger that says: This is wrong, and we know it. The anger that refuses to be domesticated.

For too long, this nation has been asked to swallow injustice as though it were weather — inevitable, impersonal, beyond human agency. But injustice is not weather. It is choice. It is policy. It is the architecture of neglect.

And the people who feel it most are the ones who never asked for anything but fairness.

I speak for the single mother counting coins at midnight. I speak for the pensioner choosing between heat and food. I speak for the young man lost to a system that never saw him. I speak for the asylum seeker treated as a problem, not a person. I speak for the worker whose dignity is measured in zero hours. I speak for the child who learns too early what fear tastes like.

I speak because someone must.

From the Humber’s edge, I see a nation fraying — not from lack of greatness, but from lack of care. We are not broken. We are unattended.

And so, I write this Epistle to say:

We deserve better. We deserve truth. We deserve justice that is not selective. We deserve leaders who remember who they serve. We deserve a country that keeps its promises to its people.

Let no one tell you that anger is dangerous. What is dangerous is apathy. What is dangerous is silence. What is dangerous is the slow erosion of dignity while we are told to be grateful for crumbs.

My anger is not a threat. It is a flare in the night, a signal fire calling the nation back to itself.

And so, I say to you, people of Britain:

Stand. Speak. Refuse the lie that nothing can change. Refuse the lie that you are small. Refuse the lie that injustice is normal.

For from the wilderness of East Yorkshire, I tell you this truth:

A nation is not saved by power. A nation is saved by conscience.

And conscience begins with the courage to say: Enough.

Signed, A Voice from the East Riding Wilderness

The Pentateuch of the Thunder Box

A working class scripture of dignity, simplicity, and bodily truth — spoken in the language of the hut, the bowl, and the bamboo.

  1. The First Act — The Morning Drop With bamboo boxers round the ankles, the day begins in honesty. The body releases what is no longer needed. The bowl receives. The man resets.

Principle: Let go before you take on.

  1. The Second Law — The Urinal is Not Final. Only the Bowl is Whole.

Half measures do not complete the work. Convenience is not completion. The bowl is the vessel of truth; the urinal is but a passing stop.

Principle: Do things fully or not at all.

  1. The Third Law — Trust Not the Bidet.

The bidet is a false prophet of cleanliness, a porcelain pretender offering confusion disguised as comfort. The bowl alone is honest.

Principle: Beware false luxuries.

  1. The Fourth Law — Beware the Wet Wipe.

Soft in the hand, treacherous in the drain. The wet wipe clogs systems, disrupts flow, and betrays the bowl.

Principle: Avoid false solutions.

  1. The Fifth Law — Trust Not the Two Ply.

Two ply promises strength but collapses under pressure. It is the deceiver of the bathroom realm.

Principle: Do not rely on weak foundations.

  1. The Sixth Law — Flush Not the Unflushable.

Respect the limits of the bowl. Do not force into the system what the system cannot bear.

Principle: Honour consequences.

  1. The Seventh Law — Experiment Not with Excremaent.

The bowl is the end of the story, not the beginning of a new one. Waste is final; do not meddle.

Principle: Respect boundaries.

  1. The Eighth Law — A Consistent Turd Should Be Revered.

Consistency is a sign of bodily harmony. A steady output reflects a steady life.

Principle: Recognise the signs of balance.

  1. The Ninth Law — If Thou Shouldst Spatter, Pay It No Matter.

The bowl forgives. The Way allows for imperfection. Wipe, flush, rise.

Principle: Practise grace.

  1. The Tenth Law — If Constipated, Be Not Deflated.

Blockage is not defeat. Pressure is not failure. The body moves in its own time.

Principle: Persevere with patience.

The Way of the Bowl

These ten laws form the foundation of the Thunder Box tradition — a philosophy of simplicity, dignity, and embodied truth. They honour the rituals that begin each day and the quiet wisdom of the working class home. The bowl is honest. The body is honest. The Way is honest.

Dan De Lion

🎤 THE STRYCHNINE SATIRICAL SONG A Hull‑Prophet Detox Hymn by Dan De Lion

🍄 Shrooms

Shrooms Shrooms — Doors of Perception? A&E Departmental Reception. Trip‑talk whispers of cosmic connection, Babylon colours in wild projection. But visions fade fast in the wrong direction — next stop bright lights and a nurse’s inspection. The only door opening? A&E Reception.

🌬️ DMT

DMT DMT — Hip Trip. Take a shit! Cosmic fireworks promise synthetic mystic, Babylon serpents dressed up as dope shit. One deep drag and your mind might just quit — truth is simple, no need to commit: stay grounded, stay human. Tea and biscuits

🌈 LSD LSD LSD — Hallucinations! Rainbow roads and illusions no frustrations, Babylon visions that charge a fee. Insight? Chaos? Paranoid? I’ll skip the bad trip and let it be — truth tastes better in a Cup o’ Tea.

🐴 Ketamine

Ketamine Ketamine? No hope false dream. Float for a moment in a cold‑blue ice cream, Babylon whispers of a painless bliss. But the fall hits hard when you can’t control your piss the after‑hollow steals your esteem. No hope, no healing — just a false pipe dream.

💗 Mandy (MDMA)

Mandy Mandy? Rather have a shandy? Get loved up-makes you feel randy hugs that turn off all your inhibitions. Sweet for a second, then the comedown brings contrition serotonin tax you do not want to pay. Keep your love simple in nature driven way.

❄️ Cocaine

Cocaine Cocaine? Runs through the Membrane. Babylon Buzz can drive ya man Insane. Paranoia Depression could be the refrain. A Wallet that is empty, a soul lost in a land drain truth tastes cleaner when you choose to refrain Try Try sipping’ lemon barley drops and your back in the game.

💥 Poppers

Poppers Poppers? Sucking sour gob stoppers. One sharp sniff and your head-top, totters Babylon rush that snaps up Euphoria. But the buzz is brief and the crash is Gorier better to chew on harmless tit bits Skip the bottle lest you get the proper Popper shits.

🩸 Heroin

Heroine Heroine? Ends up in chagrin. Warmth that whispers like a serpent’s sly grin, Babylon comfort with a deadly tailspin. One soft nod and the shadows fly in hope grows cold as the days they wear thin. No glory, no glyph — just chagrin.

🌿 Khat

Khat Khat — Blissed Out? Blissed Out? Chew all night till your jaw gives out, Babylon leaf with a hollow power. Buzz feels bright till the Golden Shower When you piss your pants at the midnight hour Blissed out? Nah — pissed out, pissed out.

🔥 Spice

Spice Spice Nice? It’s your life you sacrifice. Cheap‑talk smoke with a wicked price, Babylon packet that lies as “nice.” One wrong hit and you roll the dice — body goes limp, mind turns ice. Nothing nice — just life you sacrifice.

💊 2C‑B

2C‑B, 2C‑B — Stimulant? Losing your mind ain’t brilliant! Neon colours dance all free, Babylon glow-stick fantasy. But the mind’s no toy for a reckless spree — one twist too far and you’ll lose the key. Fun’s not fun when you’re not really “me.”

Laughter the Rafters what Were Afta!

Porcelain Press. Publisher

Dan de Lion. Author

Toilet. Truth. Text. Title

The Aldi Car Park Blues

Verse 1

Got a trolley full of holy ones, wheels wobbling down the road, Got a trolley full of holy ones, wheels wobbling down the road, I am in this Aldi car park, carrying my load.

Verse 2

Buddha by the biscuits, Jesus drooling by the wine, Buddha by the biscuits, Jesus drooling by the wine, Confucius by the toilet rolls saying, “Son, you’ll be just fine.”

Verse 3

Shamans in the child seat, rattles shaking in the breeze, Shamans in the child seat, rattles shaking in the breeze, Dreamtime is in the pharmacy saying, “Ibuprofen please.”

Verse 4

Zoroaster’s shivering between the frozen peas, Zoroaster’s shivering between the frozen peas, Shinto hanging onto the handle, saying, “Keep your mind at ease.”

Verse 5

Baha’i at the butchers, saying peace to everyone, Baha’i at the butchers, saying peace to everyone, Animism in the monkey house sayin’, “Life lives on and on.”

Verse 6

Trolley wheel’s a‑wobbling, my feet stay on the ground, Trolley wheel’s a‑wobbling, my feet stay on the ground, Earth stays on its orbit, spinning round and round.

Refrain

I shall not, I shall not be moved, I shall not, I shall not be moved, Like a trolley in Aldi’s trolley rack, I shall not be moved.

P.S. Daft is the Raft that will save us!

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