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When I saw RAWK for the first time, I mean, I was overwhelmed. I couldn’t believe the strength of emotion that I witnessed emanating from this beacon of the internet. It was a light that shone so brightly, that my disgust at the mawkishness of the content was blitzed by a tirade of righteousness – that was enough to power the sun.
And that’s important.
Because the power of the sun is a force so bewildering,
that metaphors about its power,
expressed by Liverpool fans about largely meaningless situations,
can be forged with an energy so encompassing,
that the meaningless event itself,
becomes so overbearingly meaningful,
that the people expressing the emotion,
can become so deluded,
that they keep a sentence going on way too long.
Because they’re whipped up into a frenzy of orgasmic, hypnotic virtue.
And that’s where I stand, naked before you now. Caught up in the debauchery of unconditional reverencery. Touched by the gentle hand of the Liverpool family.
I’m a part of something. Something so big that infinity itself cowers under its enourmousness. And so does infinity times two. A feeling so strong that diamonds themselves could not scratch the impecableness of the gleaming surface. A yearning to write plaudits in groups of three in one paragraph so demanding, that the only reason I came up with this last plaudit, was so I could write some plaudits in a group of three in this particular paragraph.
I stand before you now. Converted by the King and his subjects.
And that’s important.
Religious metaphors. They ooze out of every pore of us precious RAWKites like sweat from a spent rapist after getting legged in Texas. They wash over us like a refreshing tsunami of joy – caused by a thunderous earthquake of hope. Sent by the footballing gods.
And that’s important.
Allegories related to human catastrophe on a massive scale in conjunction with perceived footballing injustices. Comparing oneself to a young innocent who is one minute kicking a can in the street barefoot, before the next crushed by a collapsing building – safe in the knowledge that his knowledge is so vacuous, that he knows not that the acids released from his crushed muscles will kill him long before hunger, thirst or his heartbreak at the loss of his mother.
That’s what it takes to be a RAWKite and a fan of Liverpool Football Club.
And that’s important.
Liverpool Football Club. Liverpool Football Club is the only way you can describe Liverpool Football Club. Failing to say Liverpool Football Club when referring to Liverpool Football Club is either banned, illegal, impossible, or a path to such ridiculousnessary that to come back from such an inadvertence, would be an exercise in miraculousnessness.
And that’s important.
Using long words that may or may not exist that you have found in the first thesaurus you came across when doing a search on Google. Words so indubitable in their incorpulessnessary, that to question their very subversavariousness is a sure fire way to find yourself in a situation of obfuscatariousness.
And this is important.
Breaking up every paragraph with a short line that is designed to imbibe greater meaning and seriousness. A line perceived to be so full of knowing, that God Himself cannot begin to understand its completeness. A line of such damning wisdom, that the prophets of the scriptures would look at each other ashen faced with embarrassment – at their ignorance of the comprehension of its perspicacity.
As I lie in fevered half-sleep, the motives and emotion of RAWK creep into my consciousness. They fill me with a fervour powerful enough to alter the balance of chemicals in my brain. They change my perception of the world we live in.
They change me forever.
So I stand before you humbley and proclaim from the highest rooftop...
Dear RAWK
Thankyou for existing. Thankyou for gving my life meaning. Thankyou for helping me live and breathe again. Thankyou for providing me with the greatest mastubatory material it has ever been the pleasure of my donnay sock to mop up. I bless the very fibre optic wires you reach me from, I pray for the very etc. etc. etc.
