LW-Official Guide
Author: Elruade

Chapter 1
Laulas Guide






Elruade andLennard and Adicontor






                                 TOUGH GRADIANT






Thank you warmly for your interest in LW. LW stands for ‘Laulas’, which in itself is a different way of saying ‘Lawless’. Lawlessness does not mean crime or robbery; it does not mean criminal. Generally people speak of Laws as ‘Rules’ by which the World operates. We may speak of Physical Laws, or Laws of Trial.

When we say it is governed by Law, we mean it is ruled. When there are laws, the outcome cannot miss; it can be calculated, anticipated. When there are no laws, we can make no predictions. We cannot guess at what will come in the future. This is the meaning of LW. To embody LW, you no longer live according to rules of Law.

There are several Laws that cannot be avoided. The need for food; of warmth that begins in the stomach, of the hearth inside. That cannot miss. Also, one will want to stay dry as much as possible, and therefore aim for shelters when night drops. Then there is need to Sex, which may be the most powerful of urges. Even so, we know of some accounts of those who would wish to go without these basics; we call them true Ascetics.

Ascetics will deny their basic needs; food and sex. They will train themselves to push the boundary of the Physical Pains, which grow with time at the lack of sport. They go deep, deep into the range of Limit, of Human Endurance. These peeps are spectacles rarely on display. Indeed; is there a single ascetic alive at this moment? This is a question of faith, too.

Now that you are a member; congratulations. If you already are LW, this entire pamphlet is useless and goes well for an asswipe. But I presume you like more information before you come to a decision. So sorry, but in all cases it was the decision that came to you.











It is now the 21st century, and how do we describe a times we are ‘in’? Only by comparing and looking around, contrasting, can we answer anything about it. What kind of time is it? Great gaps and empty position, walls of technology and limited questionnaires, and schoolboards running out of chalk, and the latest panties on the trimmest bottom. Of course. It is my time, and I want to dine alone.

The words don’t mean anything at all. Is a first rule I learned as LW. Let me introduce myself: The name is Lennard, and I just recently became LW officially, while long before the time I were one in body and mind, that races along, and which the best time of win, of slack and bruise, cannot steer away, even if contained in the hand, and just to impress, let me exclaim rudely now, just like Trudeau did when he sank and deep into his grave. He sleeps yet.

As I’ve said, if you are truly LW, you don’t need to read any of this. Just as schoolboys don’t need to be schooled if they know everything. But that never happened! Everyone is a wiseguy, everything is cracked up! Who let the children out at that time? I was still in my books and being pampered! I was being tested and failed!









LW originated in a far away locale, which was exotic and had many a women and a daughter, and wise toughguys with the thorough legs that could get by, could get away with anything, including:


-Bodies affliction

-Coalabear hunts

-Clean aftershaves

They had a clean effect and cleansed themselves in clean crystal water! They had a clear effect unsullied by any foreign mayor, or washbasins too clean to be redeemed! And they had no lamps, no pissboxes, and electricity was damned and put into its isolation! And a foreign clean damp cloth washed his foreign nature, and blessedly and cleanly he mapped his foreign nation, and came to a conclusion still hot with debate and demure: aftershave was a utilitarian ideal untill the early 1700s.

When inventive agriculturalists just missed their own heartbeat and stuck a hoe into the dirt, oh! all suddenly it was an invention, and then they had always enough time to eat and a table large enough for a family of illegimate size! Oh! How romantic, chasing little lions beyond the frontier, comes home all drenched and hot as coal, asking for a cool drink as yet uninvented! The wife asks him: what kind of drink, and the man says: the hard and difficult kind that acts as an antecedent and wishing well! Ha!!

Lately schoolboys show a new tension of intention, and I think very much and highly of them for this. No, it’s not that they show any interest toward cooking or my new stove. I adopted a fair-haired boy and asked him to sit on my lap; sent him straight back to Ethiopia, along with all his belongings. Just a cup and a bowl. I cleaned house, shopped for latest merchandise, put a fork in old sausages, and I complained to the waiter because he just stared at me the whole time. No, it wasn’t a complaint, but that was how it came out.

Laulas began as an agricultural appeal to a foreign power greater than the lump of the sums and slimmer than a chance encounter with Betty Cooper. Cary Grant. Beat Takeshi; Eduardo comes near. The first Laulas members were also the first to invent the tallying system and the drawing of lots. The first three were sent far out to guard there township, and the other three were sent deeper inside to scrape away the hardened urine and shitstains. The women were washing blue cloths, and they were humming a song they just heard sung by a dancer.

Not anyone can be LW. Do you have any objections to the arrangement? First of all, LW members show little interest toward the nation, and even less to their culture they grew up in, and they aim for a mark that has yet to be marked, and they straddle their new glory as a baton and windbayonet. The little town was blown by cool winds, and days and days go by without so much as a pang.













Let me bring you an illustrative example, an allegory, and an appeal to wit. There is new technology around the corner; you can even smell it and it reeks, but the buttons you pressed linger on and become as a new boundary to your body, but for no amount of dosh can you explain just what it means.

When Phoe Afterburn was invited to the Late Show, David Letterman met him before the show and on the sidewalk in the night. A sticky hand-like- resin grabbed at the leather of his jacket and pulled him toward a rear of angles. Phoe shrugged and laughed, while Letterman removed his spectacles and asked him politely, but with restraint:

-Do you like my show?

Phoe was inventive, and he was LW already at birth and no-one knew what to do with him because he was a great unknown. Phoe took of his shoe and throw it away and then bit his lip and kissed Letterman on his  shoulders.

All suddenly the road became not so much paved as a wave of chance and ridicule at the lot waiting for a ticket to a nightly show no-one remembers the day after. Letterman became inflamed; red with shame, and he pulled his shirt over his head. Phoe again walked around the block and saw something new, something strange, and something revolting. Then he told of what he saw to Letterman, and he suddenly decided: cancel the show. He didn’t really. Both of them shopped for clean clothes and then entered the waiting line running up and down the lane. They were behind a couple with asian expression and dressed in wool.

Letterman congratulated a woman on her appeal, but when the women asked him to explain, she saw a yellow lightbulb go off in his eyes, and she became flushed and turned away. Orange light of expression; for Letterman the night became clearer than day, and he smiled for the fucking reason.

The line was as long as it was wide. Seven fatties took up the sixth line; no, six fifteen-year-olds were waiting for a ringtone, and when it went off they had to go back to school. Letterman laughed aloud. A little boy asked for small change to buy candy or the like: Letterman pushed the boy away and told him to go fetch another, more valuable deal.

Finally. They bought their tickets, front and center row, way in the back, unlit and dubious, together with the baggage handlers and ship matrons. Letterman was so excited that he squeezed Phoe’s cheek until it bled. He shouted, it’s beginning, it’s beginning! Everyone waited untill midnight, and no-one approached the center stage. Letterman started to cry and shouted how disappointed he was. He blamed Phoe for the mistake. He made his way down and walked onto the stage. The crowd cheered and roared. Phoe left through the rear-entrance and was disappointed.

Letterman didn’t know what to do. He took a seat behind the desk and looked through the drawers. He found an empty stapler and some spare staples and put them in the stapler and stapled his sheets into a paper. Tonight’s topic: joke after joke after rude awakening. Letterman made it clear to everyone he wasn’t joking anymore, and he sat in silence waiting for the day to end.

After everyone had left, he fell asleep. Phoe woke him up and shook his hand. Both smiled and didn’t know the reason for things anymore, and they were delighted.


That was just an example of LW in reality. We use example for this reason. I never liked the exemplary; they turn me off. They dress for a daytime concealed, and they hide for the light of the irredescent.









In essence, everyone is LW by original nature, just as the Buddha said. We are all completely empty. One has expectations and comparisons at the ready, but at the party it is shattered more easily than the glass they hold. Little shards danced at extraordinary pace. The one who sat underneath a table blinked in the corner of my eye, and an unease gripped me from the waist-down. I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I joined him underneath the table and became ‘Pure Eye’. 

You are LW, as is he, but I’m not sure she is. See, women are different. Are they? Never mind that. They are...sullied by praise, and yet delight in my torment. I hate to see them win, then emptying the pantry of sweets, and to come home to a woman sprawled on the floor with her leg exposed.

Why did you write in to receive the pamphlet? Think it over some more. We must discuss more, however, and make it more clear so you can come to a decision. Or arrive at one, in any case.

An LW person fits into no category. He’s no cliche, nor is he unique. He has no home, no permanent address, and dwells in tiny corners and underneath rocks and boulders. He has all the money in the world and doesn’t spend it. He has no money at all and lives like a prince. He eats just enough to survive. He wanders around during daytime, stopping to rest and cool. For the night he sleeps in rest.

He has no education. His body type makes no sense; it’s as if each body part acts independently, and he uses them improperly. He has no work; he is without a job. He doesn’t make money. he handles money in a dubious way; for him it grows on trees, and he throws it against the winds. He makes gestures and turns around with his back to you and his legs the other way. He talks of afflictions and means no-one, and he dances around hot topics and picks out the slim from the din.

For LW, everything is strange and unseen. He has no friends; to him everyone is strange. To others, he is a stranger. Nothing would happen if you put him besides someone. He might just miss it entirely. He listens to people talk, but only hears sounds. When you ask him a question, he seems at a loss for words. Truly he has lost all words, and he cannot describe the state he is in.

We might go on listing things he isn’t, but just remember that everything is and nothing isn’t. That which doesn’t exist can’t be discussed. The rule of LW; if everything is, ‘is’ is everything, anything is everything, and you are everything and anything. You are impermanent much like the breeze. One moment you are liquid as molasses, the other you are solid as immovable stone. You drift without driftnet. Everything loses urge or sanity. You lose your edge and open wide. The sharpness of contour and of your shape, of your dress and your cut, becomes blunt and soft. It wins, you win. Life isn’t a game, but it is a sing-along and wash-me-out.











I once met a purse snatcher who lived very happily, having developed a taste for purses and a collection; an empty shack full of it. Then he snatched my mother’s purse, and I knocked to be let in. I asked him if he could return it, and he obliged happily, saying it was too much for him. I asked why. He said it contained too much of the woman. He was right. My mother keeps a collection of photographs with her.

I invited him over for pancakes and syrup. He glossed over the pictures on the walls; his eyes glossed over. He yawned and I asked him why he was bored. He asked me, why should I be bored? I asked him, does my memento bore you? He looked again at the pictures and shrugged. He said, they are all empty. Just pictures of landscapes.

We both had five pancakes and no more, then we had coffee and more. I showed him pictures with people in them, and he still yawned. I asked him if they bored him also. He became annoyed and asked to be let out. I gave him a picture as a keepsake, to remember me by. It is a picture of an elephant in the zoo. There are no people in it, just ice-cream cones.

A week later I decided to visit his place again. He wasn’t there, but the door was open. There was a pile of purses in the corner, and on the walls were hundreds of pictures. he had taken them out and stuck them on the wall, using electrical tape. I noticed the picture I gave him, of the elephant. He had circled the elephant’s head and written next to it: Example.



       Introductory example: case study of a nutcase. The shell being grabbed with two fingers, he who drops it again is laughed at. But seriously, we continue the case study of LW now. With this pamphlet you will also find an earring of a comet. This signifies the ‘smashing of values’. Some members choose to wear it publicly and with no restraint, while some wear it for solemn occasions only, or just to gaze at. Whatever you do, keep it, and it’s yours.

Often LW has been compared to Buddhism and Taoism. This is the first of such  comparisons ever recorded. Now we begin a record chain of comparisons that is so way over your head that your neck strains to bear it. A wiffle ball flew overhead, and children ran after it.

LW is no religion. It has similarities with both Buddhism and Taoism, not least since it also emerged in the east, and then settled over the west like a cover. It is similar; it is also something new. As an LW, there is really no guidance or booklet to learn. There is no scripture or sutra or chant. Except for this one:


I was in control of the temperature around me.


This is just one of many of the LW chants one ought to learn. They are whispered in close-knit communities, and then whispered into the breeze that curls away and transcends human rights. Here’s one more:


When asked what he would take to an uninhabited island, the LW man answered: an uninhabited man.


I have here with me a book with a thousand chants for the LW person. But I hate reading this book. I’ll just give you these examples and be done with it.  









Take this pamphlet now and just chuck it. Take the small earpiece and just wear it. Go out now and just walk and put in zero effort. Rule number two: never use effort. If it takes effort, it’s not worth doing. The best things in life don’t take effort, and you know it well. The gift of life was free. It cannot be re-imbursed. You cannot cancel your order, or ask for a refund. Who has the coupon anyway?

There is no general guide to life and having a body. I don’t know why this is, so I decided to write this pamphlet. I loved doing it! I hope you understand now a little better what LW means. It doesn’t mean shit. You walk, you sit, you stand, you eat: what else is there? The LW person knows well. He loves the unknown and is always tongue-in-cheek. He is a stranger to any occasion, and he lacks practicality. He is just drifting and merging with traffic.

He does not care for a greater good, only in a lesser good. When you give him cheese and onion, he bakes chocolate pie. When he asks for a pizza without topping, he gets one hell of a slap around the ears. He can mix oil and water just fine, and his credit card bill is always charged with a mysterious amount. He forgets where he came from, he forgot where he put it, and he doesn’t know which way the wind goes. He’s just a little too cool for school, and yet he is too schooled to just jump in the pool.

His favorite time is NOW. His favorite four-letter word is censored. His walk is copyrighted, and he has the right to revoke his promises anytime.

One of first things you have to know about LW is that





We told him that pamplets cannot exceed twenty pages, and yet he just went on with it. Therefore, we the publisher just cut the rest off. It really didn’t matter anyway; it was a load of BS to begin with.






Copyright © Lennard

Copyright © Laulas









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