Welcome to a Grassroots Nuclear Holocaust, powered exclusively by a storyteller from an alternate reality that sometimes leaks into our own.  Youtube channel for my vids and the Scorchcast: best threads down below:
Did you know that there is a Chinese person for every single American? Out of the 1.4 billion Chinese people in China, 335 million of them purely exist to be crude doppelgangers of American citizens. Every single American has a Chinese copy.   These 335 million Chinese copies live in a massive territory that takes up 1/8th of China, nestled into the vast Gobi desert as a vanity project megacity. It's shaped like the continental United States and they all live in a roughly distributed series of simulacra cities, carrying out the performative fake lives of their assigned copies.  The Chinese tiny fake USA is a tourist attraction that Chinese people all visit during Golden Weeks where they can experience touring through America but safely in a more familiar environment. When the real American counterpart dies or gets deported, the Chinese copy retires from Chinese USA and gets to go back to living in China normally as a regular Chinese person. Some of them are relieved about it, some of them are forlorn about giving up their Chinese doppelganger life. If the Chinese copy dies or something happens to them, another doppelganger is ready to immediately take their place and continue the role uninterrupted.  Chinese people live in a mixture of constant anxiety and anticipation wondering if one day CCP officials will knock on their apartment door and tell them they need to move to Tiny USA because they were next on a list of candidates resembling an American counterpart. They pack their bags, say goodbye to their families and get shipped off to the Gobi desert to live in one of the most technologically advanced amusement parks in the world.  In Chinese Tiny America, the elite impersonators get to live in tour houses at the very forefront of Vegas-like downtown setpieces. They have to work the hardest at acting like their counterparts, usually celebrities or politicians, and have the most interactions with tourists on a daily basis. Most of Chinese Tiny USA is made up of everyday people who merely have to dress like their counterparts and pretend to work fake jobs for a few hours a day. Chinese copies of Americans walk around in setpieces of Shreveport, Louisiana or Cody, Wyoming. Chinese versions of Americans hustle and bustle pretending to work at gas stations or simulating DMV work at miniature downtown Denver, Colorado. None of them speak English, they all babble what their counterparts sound like in a Chinese flavored English sounding gibberish which they learn and develop by studying our conversations through monitoring our lives on spyware hidden inside mobile apps on our phones.  Chinese versions of Americans get nestled into giant cube megabuildings like cleaner versions of Kowloon City. They only get to relax for a few hours in the evening, throwing off their Patagonia vests or wigger hoodies or spandex sports bras or blue jeans or graphic t-shirts so they can settle comfortably into flip flops and sandals onto plastic lawn chairs and eat chicken feet while chain smoking and drinking Tsingtao, just so they can finally feel Chinese at the end of the day for but a brief moment.  This is the abundance of China. They have the manpower, the resources, and the space to replicate all of America and every American within their vast mysterious landmass which is walled off to the rest of the world. It is a place where Chinese people can go pretend to be in inner cities or eat at Dave and Busters without any of the health hazards which present themselves to Chinese people in real America and with none of the pressures Chinese citizens feel when visiting America, such as having to purchase large swathes of empty condominiums, interacting with fried rice takeout restaurant employee reconnaissance agents, or having to download terabytes of files from college university computers.  In Chinese Tiny America anything and everything is possible. Every single American that will ever exist, every single architectural accomplishment, every cuisine, every historical monument, every curated natural attraction, every song, movie, game, book, and staple of experience the United States has to offer, all of it has a little Chinese version to go along with it.   If one day AI and androids become advanced enough to take up this role, the Chinese government will not replace your Chinese bizarro counterpart. Instead, they will create an even smaller miniature America where tiny hamster sized robots wearing doll clothes and fake hair will walk around speaking LLM generated speech based off your personality with perfect voice matching. And then the Chinese government will construct an even smaller Chinese America made up of slightly smaller Chinese robots that are trained on the Chinese doppelgangers to imitate the American robots that live in Tinier America, which is located inside of Tiny Chinese America. And those Chinese impersonator robots will live in an even smaller simulated America, it will be called Tiniest America and it will exist next to Tinier America.   They will do this because it's cheaper than having to dismantle Chinese Tiny America. They will do this because the displacement of 350 million Chinese people will cause massive disruptions to the Chinese economy and job market. But most importantly, they will do this because they can afford to do it. They have the resources, the space, and the budget to have both real fake America and automated fake America that exists purely to be imitated by the automated Chinese Tiniest America. They can do all of it at the same time and furthermore they'll even create tiny robot versions of every normal Chinese person to visit the Tiniest America every year just like the real Chinese people do to Chinese Tiny America. They will do all of this because they can, and because they think it's really funny.  You will never get to visit Synecdoche USA, China. It's only for Chinese people. However, take solace that somewhere inside of it, there's a Chinese version of you doing their best to live the Chinese version of your life. They learn, love, and live alongside Chinese versions of your partners, your family, your friends, your neighbors, your coworkers, and your acquaintances. They imitate your job, they simulate your hobbies, they pretend to eat what you eat, they make themselves cry when you're sad and they force laughter when you're happy. And no matter what happens to you, no matter how low you fall and how high you rise, a Chinese person will always be there with you in spirit.
You still have time to watch Chinese national treasure on this patriotic Milady Film Club movie night. We just streamed a special message from our President.
This is awesome. I don’t know how legitimate it is since he has to eat sleep and take shits at some point, but I’m truly hoping he’s actually suffering full blown babbling delusions and not just screaming for the cameras. There should be more of this, it should be more extreme.  It isn’t enough, it barely touches the ambrosia of torture that streamers should put themselves through for my amusement. I would watch broccoli haired vape sneaker zoomers be trapped inside walk in freezers for five dollars a minute. Not my dollars though, no, someone else’s dollars. I’d watch it for free. I wouldn’t even watch all of it, just a thirty second highlight clip of the best moments, MAYBE one minute if it’s good stuff.  I would watch streamers be tossed inside giant industrial dryers with third degree burns or do challenges where they’re just beaten with logs until they’re unconscious. I would watch them buried alive inside coffins with scorpions while they scream and howl on infrared go pros. I would watch obnoxious little Twitch zoomers be thrown out of helicopters fifty feet above the Pacific Ocean and left there to tread water. I would watch zoomers curled up inside of 3x3x3 boxes with strobe lights and speakers blasting screaming recordings overlaid with Tiny Tim songs at 80 decibels, left there and forgotten about with nothing but a hole for air for 5 days.  I would watch content creators be locked inside of a concrete room with a Bengal Tiger or North American grizzly bear that’s been sufficiently starved, armed with nothing more than a four foot rope and a bicycle horn. I would watch streamers cover themselves in gasoline and thermite paste and run around an arena playing one man dodgeball against five crackheads armed with road flares. I would watch galaxy gas trap beats zoomers on Kick being pushed off three story buildings onto piles of rebar and broken cinder blocks. I would watch influencers get duct taped to the inside of a Monte Carlo and sent into concrete pylons at 80 miles an hour. I would watch streamers get shot out of cannons or welded onto the outside of a MiG-29 and exposed to the atmosphere as it passes Mach 1.   I wouldn’t even watch all of it tbh, barely any of it if I’m being frank. I’d just want to click into a multi hour stream of one of many of these streamers having this kind of shit done to them, like a throwaway excerpt newsreel in Robocop. I just want to have incoherent screaming cut into my life as a comical interjection with a brief glimpse of diabolical torment and a little timer in the corner that tells me it’s been going on for hours, days, weeks. I want it done on scrupulous Chinese platforms that somehow cheat them out of all of their sufferbucks and blood donations, leaving them in some strange convoluted legal debt that engenders them to do further self exploitive harm for no benefit except a mild chuckle from me. It would be like a prison cube where all of hell is condensed onto the brunt of an immortal soul, screaming louder than the universe itself and yet welded so shut that I neither hear nor see nor know of what goes on inside of it. A pocket dimension of pain reduced to the size of a paper weight, barely vibrating and warm to the touch. One of thousands, stacked into piles and buried in a cube of concrete to sink to the bottom of the ocean while they whir and hum against unflinching total absolute constraint. If I knew shit like this was happening to every streamer all the time forever, I would sleep 30% better.
Mentally damaged (involved in politics) women love freaking out about their bodily autonomy because it represents the perfect intersection between subconscious fetishism and the addiction to neuroticism that defines their identity. They lash out against their own biological purpose as a hellish prison in which they must suffer. The prospect of reproduction isn’t a natural part of life’s process to them, it is a hellish imposition.   To the worldly hag, a womb and fetus is a xenomorph, a parasite growing inside of them rather than a beautiful continuation of self and predecessor. It is the gruesome promise of labor, sacrifice, and time which inconveniences otherwise unmitigated indulgence. It stands to reason that someone so filled with petulance for their ancestors, contempt for their parents, and hate for themselves would be horrified to create a copy, especially at the expense of their own body, time, and effort. When even the act of smiling at a coffee shop job is reduced to an economic unit of emotional labor to be stingily withheld by the leftist materialist, a child must seem like a nuclear bomb of unpayable debt.  Yet all this pales in comparison to the psychosexual element of this nightmare fantasy, one which was usefully summarized by the Handmaiden Netflix slop. Essentially, America’s army of mids came forth to proclaim loudly, “Please please please don’t hold us down and rapebreed us!” Over and over again with obnoxious transparency, met with the mildly disgusted indifference of the demographic they demonize.   This country’s most unremarkable women obsess over this idea that we’re tracking their periods, we’re trying to figure out their cycles, that we’re hunting them down and forcing them to reproduce because they can’t conflate the reality of their biological programming demanding fulfillment through genetic self perpetuation with the myriad of social signifiers they’ve been taught to uphold. It creates psychological complexes which become transmogrified into political policy.   The truth is, what actually horrifies these women far more than some elaborate government mandated impregnation fantasy is something far more sinister. It is an apocalyptic torturous fate which has no recourse through delusion or fantasy. There is no romanticizing it or exaggerating it for entertainment, nor is there some True Crime podcast esque morbid indulgence which can be applied to it. The greatest fear made manifest for women of this caliber is to be ignored. It is their nightmare to be totally ignored, dismissed, overlooked, left behind. To be left alone without even any deliberate focus or afterthought, truly just passed by and left to their own babbling. To have everything they care about, everything they present as their identity, belief, concerns, goals, preferences, personality, and purpose all evaporated into dust through the sheer overwhelming void of indifference. It is a horror which is happening to them every day.
The other day I saw this person- not even a person some people aren’t really people, can you believe it? I said I couldn’t believe it but it’s completely true. They’re called HYLLLICS folks, they have no souls. They have no souls AND they’re walking around, talking to you like they’re people. You can tell what they are because of the products they purchase and what their IQ levels are. It’s really terrible, but we’re gonna get em out folks. We’re gonna get em all out and Make America Sentient Again. I know I have a soul, I have a very big soul folks. I talked to God the other day and he said, “Donald, you have one of the biggest souls I’ve ever seen.” I mean it’s unbelievable, really incredible stuff. Other people have small souls- it’s true! I couldn’t believe it but it’s true! You know KAMALLLA, she has a small soul folks. It’s completely true, she’s got a small soul, small brain. Not even a person. Can’t even talk without the earpiece, she’s not the vice president. We got a lot of people here in the audience much smarter than her folks, much bigger souls. Much bigger souls, actually people. You’re all actually people, unlike KAMALLLA and Sleepy Joe Biden- they’re not people! They don’t matter! But you matter. They don’t matter though, and they- and you know- they get put in long lines in the afterlife! I’m not kidding, when they die, they wait in line for a million years *swallows saliva through his gums* before they’re even allowed to see limbo. Before they’re even allowed to see it. And if they wanna come back- and you know they really hate being they’re and they want to go back because they know what’s waiting for them- they have to come back as RRROCKS! Rocks, pebbles, raindrops, pieces of dirt. They gotta spend a LLLONG time coming back as people because of what they did, they know what they did. But they’re gonna be gone now and we’re gonna have a really beautiful epoch folks.
I'd like to point out, Remilia Corporation's entire existence has transpired under a Biden Administration.  You have YET to witness what Remilia can do under a Donald Trump presidency.
God Bless the United States of America.
One of the most concealed, reviled, and avoided truths of human existence in a materialist society built on egalitarian principles is that the value of human life is neither objective or abstractly priceless.  Human life has specific subjective value. Not only are some human lives worth more than others, but some people are more concretely classifiable as human beings than others. There are people that walk the earth which cannot and should not be considered human beings.   These are innately instinctive truths which have been understood about human nature ever since the dawn of civilization. These truths represent horrific disruption to every system of government touted as correct by the amorphous blob which defines western hegemony.  Everything you were taught in school, every movie you were fed, every song you listened to, and every chiding lecture from anyone even slightly important on television has existed to reinforce the message that the value of human life cannot be counted or compared.  And yet, it not only can be, but is calculated to mathematical precision every day by corporations, government agencies, militaries, think tanks, hedge funds, and banking institutions.   Value is a relative concept. Your value to the world around you is exclusively determined by your effect on the world and those in it. Even the most minor ineffectualities by peripheral presence contribute to the great piggie bank of how others see you.  If you are ugly, you have less value than the beautiful because you inflict a sensory burden on those around you.  If you are stupid, you have less value than the intelligent because you are unable to contribute as much and often create problems which smarter people must develop solutions to mitigate.  If you are poor, you have less value than the rich because you simultaneously are far less capable of actionable consequence and autonomy, but you likely inhabit a number of other negativities which compound upon your squalid existence.  Refugees represent an almost exclusive drain upon the society in which they inflict their presence. They are not simply within the category of “immigrant” which is a mixed bag of utility depending on context. They are purely a vague category of disenfranchised and prospectless mouths to feed whose use to society is mainly through the steering of their destination for the purpose of political pandering or to be used as pawns in societal destabilization.  A refugees life is almost certainly worth far less than a ridiculous little waffle eating squirrel, simply through the mathematics of emotional impact that squirrel had compounded through the amplifier of social media. A squirrel that entertained thousands, millions of people will always be worth more than even most human individuals of well repute.   Even a wild squirrel eating an acorn on a tree branch in a park will be worth more for the sole act of making a little girl smile than a smelly pissed stained homeless person on a subway, who has accrued enough collective ire, imposition, and sensory assault on his surroundings that any society would be justified in feeding him into a sluice that processes his mass into fertilizer.  Progressive identity politics ridden grandstanders will cry and shit their pants over the most obvious truths about existence, which they cannot even parse in their schizophrenic slogan built delusion reality where no individual person has value but the category of being “a person” is everything.  “Did he deserve to go to jail just for being loud on the train???”  Yes  “Is your personal stuff worth someone else’s life?”  Much more  “(Random crime) doesn’t mean he deserved to get shot.”  No, his existence already justified it.  This is the world you and everyone actually lives in, one where the localization of your reality dictates value.   I would wipe out the population of three different continents just to save the life of someone I loved and if you disagree I’m a better person than you are.
You have zero recourse against this truth, as you participate in a constant biological dynamic which depends on it. Your existence is founded upon compliance with daily constant horrors inflicted on unseen, unknown, and unthought of people far away.   Your leaders, icons, and the fulcrums of everything which defines the staples of your culture and personality are largely either sadistic pedophiles or beholden to them.   Your food is the product of mass slaughter and geographic desolation, and even if you take great pains to assuage your own conscience at great inconvenience or expense (you should actually just be doing this for your health and quality of life (veganism isn’t healthy or proper, slaughterhouse animals fulfill great destiny by being eaten)), you still depend on an interconnected system which sustains itself through daily holocaust.  This is not a blackpill, it is a great alleviation to those willing to accept minor responsibility through their own existence and acknowledge that both fairness is a delusion and the way things are in life are affected by ecosystems beyond physical reality.  It isn’t wrong to be selfish. Trying to fix things outside of your life and family is the root of the world’s great turmoils. Excessive consideration for the world around you while your own life is in shambles is not selfless charity, it is a great sin which has been responsible for  a number of turmoils inflicted upon the world over centuries. God does not appreciate when you try to do His job.   This is how human beings have lived for hundreds of thousands of years. Revulsion at truth is just the withdrawal symptoms of a society awakening to intuition. Kevin Spacey gets assigned three sacrificial catamites at a year in exchange for continuing to acting in at least one good movie every two years.
*Werner Herzog voice* And so as he scraped the innards of his bulbous totem, in a futile attempt to purge its lining from ghastly tendrils, he realized that more strings were created with each pass of the serrated plastic scoop.  Even the smooth metal spoon did not resolve this problem. Soon he would find out that the pumpkin was made entirely of strings. Its total being was composed of fibers, tightly wound together. In stark horror, he encountered the same realization that man has grappled with for eons: The horror of nature is total and there is no removing it without removing nature itself.
Watching Kamala Harris drone on with her nasal 75 IQ vapid Obamaspeak mystery meat woman vague safe inspiration office jargon over the past year as the storybook villain DEI Mammon of our era’s great narrative unfolding has made me realize something.  It is not simply the bare facts of disenfranchisement that have spurned on young men to reject the gospel of globalism. It is not a simple equation of rejecting spiritual (and literal) castration. It is not merely the most basic reflex that occurs when quality of life, income, and opportunity become strangled into a pipe dream as you face down a short crippled life of impoverished consumption.  No. There is a deep gnawing urge in the heart of man for the delicious forbidden ambrosia of violence, conflict, strife, and turmoil which has dried up in the great drought of plenty.   Humanity craves violence. Humanity benefits from the suffering of others. There is no ultimate utopia where we all have robots do everything, harvest anything we need from errant asteroids, and have AI reduce all of our struggles into aimless Star Trek creative renaissance pursuits of discovery and knowledge.  We thirst for blood. We desire an enemy. We need to step on others to climb higher. There will always be a greater and a lesser. There will always be a nemesis. There will always be a monster to slay, a land to conquer, a deluge to withstand, an conquered to subjugate. There will always be the fundamental force of nature that propels static equilibrium into chaos, a tiny match in the ocean of gasoline sloshing around in your soul, begging, pleading, edging towards the orgasm of spark to engulf it all in flames.  There is an inquisition being held under a neon lit gold glitter cursive slogan embedded in a wall of fake leaves, centered on a high ceiling white wall. Bruno Mars plays quietly on an auxed iPhone, nestled beneath a tip tablet next to pink thermos filled with tap water. It is an office lobby labyrinth haunted by the shambling of Uber drivers and dickless podcast cadence. It is the hallmark of our great millenial dark age, a Tyranny of Perfect Professionalized Casualism.   The inherent femininity of it is itself a red herring, women are simply wielded as its vanguard like captured outskirt villagers being forced by a Mongolian horde to beset upon their own relatives entrenched in a sieged desert palace somewhere in Khwarezm. Your own people, suffering the impalement of arrows by your hand. No, this isn’t feminine. The feminine has its own forbidden hungers and indulgences that are too suppressed by the cult of stagnation. This is the paradoxical promise of immortality through the complete rejection of all that makes you human.  I have seen the glee and fervor in the faces of a rabid mob. I know what excites you people. I know the right flavor of flesh to spurn the disenfranchised into a ravenous frenzy. It is the promise of blood. It is the great disruption of Nothing into a grand terrifying Something. It is true Change, change being the great unspeakable horror that tears down the fabric of your existence and exposes you to its reality until you are rocked to your fucking core and finally learn to appreciate the stability which you spurned. It is the understanding that war is more than cinematic explosive pageantry, but a gray muddy turbofear onslaught of random violence interrupting the steady ongoing uncertain discomfort of waiting, shitting in the dirt, and harvesting moisture from filthy puddles as you run, hide, and die.   Change is the crucible of chaos which reduces all satisfied desire into desperate needs, needs which define purpose and allow for the genuine development of culture through necessity. It is the musical chairs of death, disease, and destruction, a loud violent tunnel with a light at the end promising its survivors a chance to actually define existence once again for their progeny rather than just being helpless bystanders of the past.  You can admit you crave it.
One trillion Jira pushes per second directly beamed into my cornea.  Quantum Entanglement Communicator work gc has me answering queries from civilizations that don’t exist yet.  Our company doesn’t have new verticals, we have several higher dimensional orthogonal directions.  Beaming PowerPoint presentations back in time via caveman shamanic hallucinations to invent language and geometry.  Sophonic managerial hierarchy, I answer to sentient quasars, they report to protons.  HR meetings with God.  DNA ingrained self resolving IT tickets.  We work hard, we play hard, hard play work we, playardorkwe, Rpwedgh, H, •, ∞  The giant autonomous perfect edge floating metal cube has been stealing lunches out of the fridge.  “Remote” work in the astral plane.  Seed round in the Akashic Records.  Dyson sphere overclocking tips the Continuum Council does NOT want you to know!  There is a black hole generator nestled between the 18 limb pedals of my Peloton.  White collar prison crystal matrix.  For some reason we still haven’t moved off Windows 7.  Experience death to birth lifecycle in reverse during new hire orientation.  Palladium lined magnetic field crucible filled with liquid plasma with the phrase “Don’t talk to me until I’ve had my Liquid Plasma” laser etched onto the side.  Crunch sprint has us harvesting the consciousness of distant Type One Kardashev civilizations through UberEats.  Noneuclidian phase shifting corner office only exists three days out of the week.  We just shifted multiple universes into one coherent reality this quarter and yet I still have to wear this gay ass lanyard whenever I’m in the building.  For your Christmas bonus this year you’re allowed to have a new emotion.  Zoom calls in the fourth dimension so we can get every single one we’ve ever had and every single one we’ll ever have out of the way at once.  Sexual harassment staff seminar because someone made eye contact.  Federal audit triggered because someone thought about the future.   “As per my last hivemind meld-“  Token unmodified biological flesh hire  A day in the 1e-(100000^100000)HL.
One of Donald Trump's most iconic aesthetic motifs is his love of McDonald's. Besides the name matching to such a degree that he mantles his identity onto a pseudo mascot for the brand, Trump's love of McDonald's also exemplifies an inherent patriotism which is far more genuine than anything prior presidents could possible manage.   Donald Trump's unabashed enthusiasm for McDonald's is an authentic embodiment of American values which exceeds the sincerity of possibly any president within the past 200 years.  McDonald's is arguably the most relevant symbol of American culture and identity, exceeding that of apple pies, baseball, firearms, bald eagles, and the flag itself. The burger is the ultimate American symbol, a perfect coalescence of the entire food pyramid, an archetypical recipe structure mimicked by nearly every culture, a series of ingredients which span both old and new world domestic staples, and most importantly, a representation of capitalism in its rawest and most efficient form.  Of all burgers, the most quintessential burger is the McDonald's burger. Depending on the nation, this may be the iconic Big Mac, the legendary McDouble, or a number of other creative or hideous country specific concoctions. McDonald's is globally ubiquitous. Nearly every country has a McDonald's. Every McDonald's is like a US embassy establishing its culture mark upon whatever host nation has succumbed to the pure financial incentive of its influence. Armed with the sword of Coca-Cola to cut through whatever culture it has usurped, McDonald's represents the United States in its most robust legacy. Long after our country is shattered, eroded, shifted, transmogrified, or subsumed by the inevitability of the future, our culture and history will be earmarked by twin golden arches mythopoetically attached to our esoteric symbolism as a retrospective coat of arms for the great American Empire.  Contemporary commentators criticize Trump's shameless love of McDonald's as a staple of tackiness, but it is through this love that Trump establishes himself as a sincere American. He truly embraces America in its purest form every time he orders McDonald's or wields it in front of the American populace. He fully dives into the great thresher of pure market efficiency, reducing all prior pretensions of authentic culture and fully acknowledging that for better or worse, America is capitalism in its rawest form.   The United States was built on a foundation of capitalistic venture. Its first Spanish colonists in St. Augustine were in search of gold, land, and expansion. Its first English colony in Jamestown was an all male contingent of enterprisers, accountants, lawyers, and gentleman mixed with a minority of laborers and workers. They were all seeking wealth through the intense risk of being first settlers in the north. Every single aspect of American history is the pursuit of fortune and glory through bold venture into wild uncharted territory.   McDonald's itself is a testament to capitalistic ambition. Much like the pioneers of Manifest Destiny and cutthroat Robber Barons carving out an empire through the underutilized bounty of the West, Ray Kroc usurped the hyperefficient family oriented restaurant model created by the McDonald's brothers in the 1950s and transformed it into a real estate empire, establishing the fast food franchise and building an unyielding egregore that exceeds the scope and grasp of any one man along the same momentum as the military industrial complex or any megacorporation today.   McDonald's represents capitalism in its purest form. Much like the generic corporate delivery pizza represents what constitutes the platonic ideal of what a pizza should be (much to the chagrin of pretentious gastronomes, uppity New Yorkers, and indignant Italians), McDonald's has mastered what a burger should be, for better or worse. Sure, everyone's favorite local shithole diner or concept bistro has a "better burger" but nobody does it with the same degree of ubiquity, availability, and absolute consistency. The McDonald's burger isn't just a burger, it's the standard by which all burgers are measured. It is a burger with a neutral pH, a true North to anchor the burger spectrum.   McDonald's is a litmus for the health of the nation itself. Its current status as cheap unhealthy slop is half psychosomatic and half genuine due to seed oil cooked fries, processed cheese, and some chemical preservatives in the buns. This is simply a mirror for the civilization in which the McDonald's burger exists. We as a society have chosen to accept poison in our lives through the soft internal coup of our federal agencies at the hands of ill intentioned parasites seeking to subdue our population, and so our McDonald's reflects this. McDonald's was once a cheap relatively healthy meal, targeted towards families. Its current state as a disposable feeding trough for the lower class only shows what we have allowed for ourselves, what our institutions choose to cater towards.   McDonald's is a perfect pillar of direct assessment for the value of our currency. The price of Big Mac is used to track inflation, both on a national and global scale across decades of time. McDonald's represents America's economic presence so consistently that no two nations which host McDonald's franchises may ever be at war with one another, with the company suspending its operations in whichever country least aligns with American interests if such an event occurs.   McDonald's itself will continue to exist long after America, continuing its empiric presence through the changing of names, titles, leadership, and populace.   There is a McDonald's in the Pentagon.  There is a McDonald's at Guantanamo Bay.  There is a McDonald's in the Arctic circle.  There is a McDonald's built into Ancient Roman ruins.  There is a McDonald's built into the former Taiwanese president's villa in Hangzhou.  There will be a McDonald's built on the moon.  Colonists on the slopes of Europa will fabricate McDonald's patties while overlooking a red horizon totally occupied by a sunswept Jupiter.  McDonald's arches printed upon air sealed food packs will represent a symbol of Terran ancestral home to the school children who have only known the gravity of Ringworlds.  The raw conceptual interpretation of a McDouble will be interpretively manufactured by and for rogue autonomous AI's who will carry out McDonald's consumptive legacy in a realm of existence we will never comprehend on a timescale exceeding the human species.  Somewhere in the great airport that resides just after death and just before the Afterlife, where dreams, souls, and primordial entities collide with the traces of the physical world, there is a McDonald's heralded by 5th dimensional oscillating golden arches, echoing out the raw spiritual blast of twelve trillion cattle all transpiring into one timeless momentous nuclear scream echoing out onto the infinite plane to be barely registered as a whisper in the ears of God.   You will visit there when you die and you will order a burger, paying for it with a tiny shaving of your soul. Behind the glowing orb of its languageless menu, you will see the American flag barely concealing its ancestral forms, shifting from colonial British into a Roman eagle, and further towards empiric symbols of societies lost to written history.   Donald Trump's figure and form will be one of many carved into the walls of its localized reality, speaking with Caesar's face and the voice of the first caveman who discovered wheat. He (they, it, you) will be thanking you for stopping by.
*long quiet exhale*  What? I’m fine. No, I promise, I’m fine.   *longer less quiet exhale*
The free proliferation of media to all members of society has created pockets of delusions in random midwits all across the world. Much like the braindead morons who parrot “Why can’t they aim for the legs or just use a taser” in every single police fatality video, there is always a contingent of uninformed larpers who develop their worldview based on mediocre action movies and Ronda Rousey promos from 2015.  Women are biologically outmatched in every aspect of physical combat. Their skeletons are not built to withstand impacts, their musculature does not even come close to men’s when it comes to explosive movement, the average man has 2x the upper body strength and 3x the lower body strength of the average woman.  The only times women are beating up men is if freak outliers in the highest range of roided up golf ball clit moustache power lifting bulk freak ogre women are bullying twink mode emaciated fairy men. Every other incident of a woman “beating” a man only occurs through the man’s compliance or fear of consequence.  The average beer guzzling wagecuck retail slob man who doesn’t work out could consistently body the top female UFC contenders with 100% effort and intentional aggression. The ONLY martial arts that women even have the slightest chance defending themselves against a man is jiu jitsu, and this point comes with a degree of nuance that almost always escapes the BJJ white belt bros who echo it: The woman needs to be a black belt to stand a chance against an UNTRAINED guy within a reasonable weight range.  The timeframe of getting a black belt or being within the skill range at a legitimate BJJ school is roughly 10 years. That’s ten years of sparring at least 3-4 times a week, all so a woman has a chance at fighting ONE guy without backup within a 50 pound weight range. The Boyd Belt concept states that every 25 pounds your opponent has on you is equivalent to another belt level. This is somewhat of a crude oversimplification but holds a degree of truth. Weight classes exist for a reason.  Anyone who practices MMA will inevitably come across the typical “MMA girl” and of those girls, they can be classified into two categories: Pre and Post Realization. The Realization is a harrowing moment for any girl practicing legitimate martial arts. It occurs when they grow confident in their cardio, footwork, and technique. They fully understand that any time they’re forced to spar against another man that they’re getting roughly 10-20% of full force. Most men spar each other at a range between 40-60% full force.  The Realization tends to occur more commonly in grappling than striking because it’s very difficult as a man to allow yourself to actually strike a girl at near to full effort. Even if you lack the inherent empathy and instinct that curtails such an action, you generally are apprehensive about doing it because if it goes wrong in any capacity you will incur the ire of everyone else at the gym and possibly become targeted for beatings until you leave the school. But, regardless of whether it’s striking at above 50% or grappling with full force, the Realization occurs when a female fighter begs a male sparring partner she trusts to fully use 100% effort, out of curiosity and confidence that her skills will see her through.   Specifically the Realization can be pinpointed in a look they get in their eyes, a combination of absolute crushing despondence and slight fear. The Realization is the sudden absolute arrival of understanding that for all of their training, all of their work, and all of their effort, they still cannot match the furious magnitude of genetics. They have run up against a wall built by God. The Realization rips apart the curtain of whatever action hero girl fighter fantasy they may have harbored and reveals the frightening void of vulnerability affirming all their prior instincts. The Realization is that men are high velocity monsters, roaming the world, only kept at bay by the will of other men.
Pepper spray?  Bullshit  Tasers? Bullshit  Pocket knives? Maybe 10% chance deterrent if the woman knows what she’s doing  The only true autonomous self defense women have is firearms, and roughly 50% of the female population is mentally unequipped to use them responsibly.  Martial arts is spiritually, mentally, and physically invigorating. It’s one of the best things you can do for yourself as a man. The only problem with martial arts is that a majority of them are complete bullshit and they create a lot of delusions in dilettantes who espouse their utility.  FOR THE PURPOSE OF DEFEATING OPPONENTS IN PHYSICAL COMBAT:  Kung fu is bullshit Almost all karate is bullshit Ninjitsu is bullshit Aikido is bullshit Krav Maga only teaches you how to harass untrained people.  Taekwondo can be useful but a lot of schools don’t let you spar anymore.  BJJ and most grappling is useful but if you try it in public you’re going to get your head kicked in. Almost nobody who’s getting in fights in public will be alone and most floors you’ll be fighting on are concrete.  Boxing is good, kickboxing and Muay Thai are great, but if you don’t know how to grapple you are fucked if you’re going on the floor. Also you will probably be fucked if you try most kicks in a real fight unless you really know what you’re doing.  Judo is awesome, there’s a lot of utility in doing everything to stay on your feet.  Fighting in public is stupid, if you’re at all good at it you will likely go to jail. If you suck at it, you will likely incur permanent injuries of some sort.  The greatest self defense is surrounding awareness. Do not go to shitty bars, don’t fuck people’s wives, stay out of bad neighborhoods. These three things will prevent 99% of fights you will ever be in.  Bruce Lee was an athlete who practiced martial arts for movies. He was still a cool guy but any UFC fighter today would fuck him up.  The UFC probably isn’t rigged but it’s a lot easier to predict who’s going to win than they let on.   All fighters get old. All fighters have to lose sooner or later.  No martial art will ever defeat a firearm matched with competent awareness and draw training. However, many gun owners, gun enthusiasts, and uninformed people commenting on firearms come with their own set of ludicrous delusions which would require another thread for another day.
When presented with the works of visionaries, the primordial task slave will always utter their ancient motto:  “But you didn’t do the actual work!”   These types of people will always bring up the same stupid solutions to all the world’s problems shared by 10 year olds, pothead high schoolers, and housewives on Facebook:  “Why not just make the smartest scientists in the world run the government?”  The midwit devcel engineer brain wage scraping task slave is allergic to ambition. The task slave is an archetype of pure logistics, completely incapable of parsing value beyond physically apparent utility. It is a handicap of materialistic thinking to disregard the abstract skill sets of social capability, leadership, organization, marketing, or ideation.   The task slave was descended from Mesopotamian scribes and basket weaving hens in villages of antiquity. The task slave occupies a tiny bubble of their own mastered role which is a fraction of the whole that is civilization.   The task slave cannot parse between the act of physically speaking and the process of communication.   The task slave does not understand the difference between an errant thought and an actual idea.   The task slave is a machine learning program whose parameters are set to absolute efficiency in the shortest timescale.  The task slave whines at change, charm, choice, charge, and challenge.   The task slave has reduced all actions down to an equation of effort where the conclusion is that it’s always easier to convince their manager not to deviate from the familiar than it is to solve new problems.  The task slave despises capitalism for quantifying value in absolute objective clarity. They will scoff at their superiors enjoying higher pay, status, and power while proclaiming their own deserved credit for an enterprise in which they participate, while ignoring every other element of teamwork and resource they depend on. They will do this while also conveniently disregarding the myriad of jobs in the world which are much harder, more time consuming, and pay much less than what they receive.  A world run by task slaves would be at best a steadily declining stagnation, more likely a rapid decay into chaotic turmoil preceding usurpation at the hands of violent men of ambition. Task slaves will parade around flaunting their two dozen irreverent ideas and five different unfinished hobby projects. Task slaves will refuse to take any risk at pursuing their own visions while complaining they are trapped in the prison of manifesting the dreams of greater men. Task slaves will do everything possible to disregard every achievement of their leaders while scrutinizing their most irrelevant hiccups. Task slaves bow before the likes of Steve Wozniak and the assistant painters of the Sistine Chapel while spitting on the likes of Steve Jobs and Michelangelo.  The task slave will never understand that a pyramid lasting for tens of thousands of years will always be a more valuable use of resources, time, and labor than the comfort of a million peasants being granted a million fabricated shacks to withstand a century or two at most.  The task slave will never grasp the human need for heroes in the great mythology of history. They will defy the conventions that historically have always coalesced the efforts of a team onto the credit of a singular director. They would rather dilute the inspiration of Edisons, Fords, Caesars, and Napoleons in favor of a drab incoherent swath of committees and circumstantial participants too numerous to substantially remember.  The task slave is a necessary element in the fundamental formula of human progress, a beast of burden that must always be herded towards the great unknown by a visionary who can overcome petty resistance in the face of minor discomfort.  Task slaves will never truly create or discover anything on their own. They have traded glory for a safe secure existence.
Oh, and Happy Columbus Day
True randomness should be a mandated feature of any online content aggregator. User catered algorithms have been cranked up way too high and it ruins both browsing and posting. Clicking into a random post out of context curiosity just to have my TL bombarded by normslop, politics, black people be like DAYUM, or random misery porn only encourages me to stop scrolling, stop engaging in any meaningful way.  And no, just sticking to your follow tab isn’t enough. A bar becomes stale if all you have to look forward to is regulars. Much the same online, there is an inherent need to seek out the novelty of strangers, explore uncharted wilderness, dive into random new alleyways, and pry open the gates to an orchard of the mundane, the bizarre, the fantastic, the depraved, and everything in between.  An encumbering algorithm is like having an obsequious butler in your home constantly poking his head over your shoulder, peering at your open mouth while you eat, sniffing your bathroom after you shit, taking pictures of your laundry, and rummaging through your garbage. It is an overbearing mother who briefly heard you say you liked crackers once so she buys several crates and force feeds you Ritz until you puke for the next decade of your life.   There should be a slider somewhere that lets you tweak just how much spoonfeeding you want from your feed, and if nothing else, a true “Newest” tab for uninhibited discovery. Having this would help withstand the tsunami of inevitability that is the Perfect Slop. The Perfect Slop is a platonic ideal of metal viral potentiated brainrot content which has achieved an escape velocity of rapid perpetual evolution at pace with the human brain’s timescale for growing bored. It is the horrific shapeshifting wendigo of conceptual entities, transmogrifying at such a speed that it paradoxically stabilizes into absolute permanent consistency.  The Perfect Slop is the end result of algorithms. It is human refinement through iterative trial, a steady approach towards not only mastering the algorithm within a period in time but overcoming its adjustment responses to permanently crush all future possible obstacles. It is the invisible barrier that outlines the hard physical limit of potential human IQ, a finish line of just how complicated the formula needs to be to keep human beings entertained. It condenses the cacophony of all the various frequencies and rhythms that hypnotize us into one persistent droning noise, alienating those too old to withstand the brunt of its velocity while indoctrinating those young enough to adapt to its devolving aura.  Perfect Slop defies the inherent fulcrum of true creative progress, imperfection. Through imperfection you obtain necessity, the need to reach perfection. Necessity is the mechanism that causes culture to exist. There are little pockets of inexperience, mediocrity, autistic sincerity, mentally ill breakdowns, concealed naivety, technical jargon, personal pursuits, and sheer random output hiding between the goliath shadows of bouncy ball animations, TikTok boom sounds, and videos of police officers arresting schizos from 5 years ago. Such trinkets of novelty are gatekept to those who have earned their prize, the true lurkers and obsessive onliners that do not pick through their feeds like idle gardeners but truly hunt for content like truffle scavengers yanking their voracious pigs by the leash.  I’m not one to deprive the sweetest fruits from God’s most steadfast gatherers and demand to be handed my share without effort. But there is a degree of acceptable presentation that’s been completely strangled out of these websites. It is apocalyptic inevitability propelled by the most immediate short term logical optimization decisions, a series of tiny right steps down a pathway to doom. Much like great history is made by sometimes defying all logic, some of the greatest posts are found in some of the most ignored places.
One of the biggest flaws of being politics-brained is an inability to process nuance or satire. Both right wingers and left wingers consistently fail to parse intent behind creative work, likely due to the constant fight or flight reflexes induced by entrenched ideology.  The "Man Enough" ads were never meant to be relatable to actual men. The director himself confirmed they were parodic, a cheeky little inside joke that checked off every little androgynous man tit closet homo signal that makes these people smirk and guffaw. These people either know they're losing or they know they can rig whatever they want. Either scenario implies a complete disregard at any attempt at catering to the masculine values crowd, a maneuver which would convince nobody new to vote differently while alienating the rabid dogmatic base which will torch association or support for the most minor perceived heresy.  Of course you could give credit and say this was a 5D chess move on their behalf, shallow bait to induce viral discussion and notoriety, which is successful if that truly was their intent. However, the reason this ad exists is for a far simpler motive: They hate the notion of masculinity, they hate men, and they want you to be a crippled castrated rape slave.  Nothing they create will EVER be intended to sincerely cater to you. Even if you were to upend the entire global financial system, industrial complex, and media goliath that upholds their cosmic mission of atomizing the soul and devolving all human beings into gelatinous consumer units, even if you were to reduce the very last radical left leaning suicide goblin into a crumpled heap on a concrete floor facing down permanent extinction, their last words would be "Fuck you for existing, do what I say or face the consequences."  This was never supposed to be a sincere attempt at convincing you of anything nor was it ever worth an ounce of credible consideration beyond a sneering giggle before shoving it out of your consciousness forever.
Running start, vaulting into a 5 and half foot vertical, forward diving position, completely horizontal at 35mph, my groin barely brushing past the woman's face, my ass angled slightly upward to fart directly into the dude's nostrils in perfect timing, hands cupped together with arms outstretched, legs straight with toes pointed down, zero skin to skin contact, rotating and tumbling into a tactical roll > somersault > second vault directly upward to land hero pose one knee one fist directly onto the top of Marina Abramović's skull as she compacts into a squashed marshmallow-like configuration before bursting cartoonishly in a confetti-like pile of giblets. Onlookers stunned silent for split second before erupting into cheering. Andy Warhol punches through his coffin and shambles into the room to hand me a heavyweight championship belt proclaiming that I've "Won all of art" as champagne is popped and I'm handed a lit cigar.
Normies truly are unwashed peasant scum of the earth. This sallow pudgy harlot hiking up her drab sundress to show off her jostling sagging rump has mirrored her ancestry perfectly. She’s indistinguishable from the medieval whore bellowing out through yellow teeth in a muddy village road, tugging at her burlap sack dress and leering with dead eyes as she takes the 14th farmer of that afternoon between her haunches for a haypenny or a ripe apple. One of them will give her an accident, a turbulent little oaf fetus that withstood the Pennyroyal and was shat out upon a pile of straw to either take her mothers profession or go off to butcher rodents for beer. So many squalid shitty lives passed down from generation to generation, eventually leading to what you see today.  What makes dull prostitutes especially unbearable is if they haven’t fully realized what they are. There’s a precarious paradox that whores contend with. It isn’t just ass, mouth, and pussy you’re selling, it’s feeling itself. The best escorts must genuinely understand what makes sex and eroticism special. It’s an art of financializing a number of complex emotional dynamics in different flavors. A large part of it is often simulating the feeling of love. Some of it can be simulating rape, or the essence of rape in the sense that a client wants to feeling as if he is ruining innocence. And there is of course, various niche dynamics and fetishes. But the ultimate role of a good hooker is to take the genuine parts of her soul and sell them off piece by piece, taking as little as possible away from herself while making it seem like everything to the client.  Good whores throughout history have mastered this, managing to enact the great ancient profession sustainably for a lifetime into graceful retirement as the bargain wife compromise of some old dirty bastard husband in some godforsaken profession. If they’re especially devious, they’ve managed to escape their profession disguising themselves as anything else but a woman of ill repute.  But there are very few thoughtful whores left in society. Sexual liberation and the consequences of technology has tainted the ancient art and left us with a generation of arrogant stupid prostitutes who neither understand the forces they play with nor the consequences of their choices. Before you get in a hissy fit, even OnlyFans girls who peddle simple nudes are prostitutes. Pornography is prostitution. And there are so many prostitutes like the one in this video. They have coasted by on debasing themselves upon the darkest dumbest animals America’s ghettos and trailers have to offer that they cannot fathom any other response than immediate uncontrollable lust when presenting their mediocre bare body to whom it may concern.  The lifespan of a whore is akin to watching a heroin addict delude themselves as their existence dwindles down into a constipated concrete floor existence of whinging for a free hit and doing anything possible for two dollars as their limbs and teeth rot out. It is the steady measured degradation of existence met with cope, concealment, and contrivance. A delusion that grows harder to uphold as the uncomfortable truth claws its way into the forefront of your vision, refusing to leave you be in peace, taunting you with pain, screaming a message you that won’t go away, carving it into the inside of your eyelids and depositing its residue inside of your dreams.   Even if this woman changed everything about her life today and redeemed herself, she will still have been a whore. Deep down she will always be a whore, a permanent scar of the past scratched into the depth of her pupils, always noticeable if you look hard enough. The only thing more pathetic than the few thousand gooners shriveling their souls through their dicks for this mediocre harlot is the ideology pandering loser ass podcast in which she was brought on to be badgered. Like what the fuck is this bullshit, The View for people larping as incels?
I’m just kidding, the only thing actually worse is dysgenic troglodyte mutt goblins who immediately say “Are you gay bruh” if you’re not immediately hypnotized by sweaty sloppy flesh lumps being shaken directly in front of your face. These aren’t people, they’re barnyard animals who were bred to be casualties in shitty wars or shackled into the rowing seats on ships of antiquity. One day we will be able to bolt metal VR sets into their skulls to overlay AR porno TikTok noise reward graphics and inject them with retard drugs while they drill for helium on distant moons and eat gray sludge out of a tube. History will look back at human beings having granted the dumbest lowest portion of society equal opportunity to express themselves online as a barbaric misjudgment akin to lead poisoning or eating mercury.
Man…. what a ruff week!
The reason everyone’s calling the people in this video dumb is because of the music. The music is for stupid people, you can tell by listening to it for five seconds. And that’s fine, it’s okay to be stupid and love slop. In fact that’s probably the happiest you can be today.  It’s okay to be a stupid dumb idiot jumping around with your rehearsed little boat dance, singing along to your stupid dumb people shitty music with bachata beats and a vaguely mocha colored sounding vocalist doing that shitty eehhhh ehhh whining singing. It’s good to be impressed by stupid shit made for unsentient retards. Being stupid is awesome, it’s probably like getting high off of breathing oxygen or being drunk 24/7.  Every time I hear that Hispano thump-tha-thump-thump beat and I watch the herd of normie idiot dumb dumb morons start to gyrate and put on their cow like glazed eyed expressions in simple monkey joy at their Pavlovian signaled designated happiness time, I get a warm feeling in my heart. It’s like watching a dog stick its face in a pile of ground meat or a pig rolling around in its own shit. Pure unadulterated happiness, purchased effortlessly for almost nothing, distributed with near universal availability.  Being a dumb person today is like being born into a bizarro aristocracy. Dumb people enjoy the fruits of technology handing them comforts, pomp, circus, and conveniences the likes of which ancient kings could only dream of. Imagine opening Netflix and every single TV show and movie is good, like REALLY good. Imagine turning on the radio and every song is like, your favorite song. Imagine being able to play Grand Theft Auto and FIFA for 12 years straight and never ever ever getting bored or feeling like you’ve wasted time.   That’s what being dumb feels like.  To be stupid is to tweak the dials of sensory perception to such a dullness that you never have to process taste, discernment, or discrimination. All of life’s painful bitterness is wiped away, dampened into the vaguest notions of discomfort which are easily shooed away by a whinge and a whimper before cowering further into the comfort of ignorance. Whatever peaks of sophistication lie waiting down the pathways of effort, time, and thought are completely locked off to you. Nothing will ever bother you again.  The only suffering that stupid people experience is when they’re forced to reckon with the truth of their own existence. It’s needlessly cruel to expose dumb people to their own nature. It accomplishes nothing and merely makes them feel bad. There are people who genuinely can’t understand what makes the dancing boat people immediately identifiable as stupid. They can’t infer body language, facial expression, context, fashion, music, or even process the vaguely bloated dysgenic biology at play.   They live in a simple world for simple people in which everyone is more or less the same, all taste is subjective, all activities are universal, and all acts of behavior and consumption have no implication or effect on the individual. These are people that genuinely believe IQ is irrelevant, there’s probably some in my replies right now ready to lambast me for my pretentious arrogance.   The biggest cope from stupid people comes from trying to assert their stupid people activities as superior due to vague rhythmic or vibrational qualities. No, smart people aren’t incapable of dancing. In fact, they can dance better than you and they dance to better music, music you’ve probably never even heard of. The only solace of a stupid person is misattributing intelligence with awkwardness. The truly intelligent understand how to avoid the pitfalls of emotional and social inadequacy.  The cruelty of this circumstance is that smart people can empathize with stupid people. They can understand them by simulating their existence through heavy drug or alcohol abuse. Stupid people don’t get to do the reverse. The level they are trapped in is only a prison if you’re cruel enough to point it out.
Enjoying Minecraft cinema inside of Minecraft via Miladycraft with Milady friends
Thinking about CIA trained Astral Projection security teams who guard black sites and the Antarctic from wandering disembodied souls, intercepting them and protecting government secrets with the crude simplicity of 1800s cattlemen gathering in a place to ward off rustlers.   I wonder how much they get paid, if it’s even in money or if they have to compensate them with metaphysical currency built out of emotions or some kind of government bond that works like an IOU for favors and wealth to be distributed in the afterlife.  I wonder what their lives are like, floating around in a non Euclidean void space doing the soul-equivalent of being a guard smoking a cigarette on your shift near a barbed wire gate, waiting to clock out. Suddenly some angular, constantly shifting plexicolor primordial entity that’s existed for longer than humanity has and is responsible for the personification of several abstract concepts and mythological motifs wanders within “view” of the perimeter and then scampers off like some coyote wandering through the sight line of a border patrol officers NVG binoculars near the edge of Juarez.  How do you go home after a job like that? How do you live a life after a job like that? What if their entire security teams are merely the tulpic projections of each random Astral Projector’s paranoia made manifest through suggestion? An army of conceptual golems built and maintained via the mere implication of their existence, set up by the psycholinguistic metaphysical strategies like some IT guy setting up anti virus software.  I would read Memoirs of an Astral Security Guard.
The little mess after a dinner party or get together is different from other messes. The mess of a day to day life is fecal, disposal of clutter, an error to be rectified by maintenance. But a social mess is beautiful in its chaos.   An after-mess is like a stray brush stroke on a painting, organic and unsimulatable. It is the half eaten charcuterie platter, a glass on an armrest, garnishes scattered to the side of a cutting board. It is the accents of suggestions, a story spelled out by aftermath. It is a crime scene that screams out to onlookers “mirth was committed here.”   Such a mess is only appreciated when laid upon a canvas of an otherwise pristine home. It is a poetry of Dionysian chaos worming its way into Apollonian structure. It’s the vines of nature creeping into a uniform life.   When you’re the host, this kind of mess is the most satisfying because you can stand before it and savor it totally. It represents the lingering residue of a moment in time, you don’t even want to clean it immediately. You enjoy its presence as a reminder. Playtime by Jacques Tati is the perfect film for encapsulating this feeling, particularly the restaurant sequence at the end.
Milady
Imagine going to McEgirls and ordering a McTummy
The Sovereign Citizen meme occupies a category of mind virus at the same intensity and capacity of schizophrenic gangstalk claimants or pyramid scheme enthusiasts. What makes them so irritating is that they reject the fundamental mechanism by which authority is derived: violence.  The Sovereign Citizen is a byproduct of a tolerant governance. It is a glitch in societal consciousness that arises through the tolerance, patience, or at the very least, mandated litigation opportunity our justice system provides.   The Sovereign Citizen is born through unintelligent observation of legal practices. They have grasped a bare morsel of intuition that law, code, and perhaps language itself is like a system of magic spells which must be cast in very specific ways in very specific contexts to manifest change in reality in the user’s favor. Like cavemen looking at wizards, they mistakenly believe that they can replicate this effect themselves merely through the nitpicking of technicality.  This delusion is very much a product of 20th century boomer mentality. The generations who lived through the later half of the 20th century lived under a relatively stable society which provided a reasonable standard of living in exchange for adhering to rules and systems. These systems were functioning for so long that the society which benefitted from them had no longer processed the deeper meaning behind why they existed. As a result, at least a portion of the population began to treat existence itself as an automated feeding mechanism. Like hamsters pressing buttons on a food pellet dispenser, the average boomer developed a mental process for how the world works based simply on immediate cause and effect with little consideration given to realpolitik or human nature.  Eventually, the Sovereign Citizen and the concept of pseudolaw developed in the later half of the 20th century, a cognitohazard developing out of the delusion that law and rhetoric are the engine behind consequence rather than simply the byproduct of it.  The Sovereign Citizen fundamentally fails to understand the most basic truth about the law:  Authority is derived from violence.   A police officer has power because he has a gun and can shoot you with it.  The police are not constrained by words, they are constrained by agreements with a larger group that represents the state.   Defying the police by force endeavors a cause and effect chain in which if you are successful in any significant capacity, your next requirement for absolute sovereignty demands defying the will of the military.  The only way to do this is if you have resources and manpower. The only way to accrue that is by having capital, logistic supply, and the cooperation of at least thousands of other people. The only way to achieve these things is by aligning with a mass of people and their incentives. Doing this inevitably forces you to adhere to the same agreements and behavior pathways which end up becoming the most commonly recognized basic laws nearly every country has.  Are there unjust laws? Sure. You have the natural right to defy them surreptitiously. This is called being a criminal, almost every single person in civilization has committed at least one very minor crime in their life.  What makes the existence of Sovereign Citizens so infuriatingly stupid   is that they want to have their cake and eat it too. They essentially want the extended sovereignty criminals partake in without accepting the inherent risk and diligence criminals must perform to not get caught.   There are in fact wizards who can cast word spells and contort the willpower of authority figures towards navigating the gray areas of law, these are called lawyers and the good ones are expensive. The Sovereign Citizen arrogantly attempts to replicate their ability without training, without having to pay for it.   The only truly sovereign entities on earth are the ones that can launch nuclear missiles, and none of them are individual people.
The ubiquitous pollution of touch screens on dashboards can only ever be justified the day you can watch movies and YouTube videos on CarPlay while you drive.
Texting while driving is a learnable skill.   Watching movies while driving is completely harmless.  Drunk driving BAC limits should be scaled to IQ level.  You live in a prison built by neurotic cowards.
When you think about it, Nikocado Avocado truly is the perfect citizen. Despite his very existence being revolting to the degree that any normal society in the past several millennia would’ve had him publicly executed on sight, or at the very least chained up as a grotesque amusement for plebeians to throw apple cores at in some declining late stage civilization of antiquity, Nikocado Avocado is a model citizen who lives a perfect ideal life by the standards of mainstream media and institutional zeitgeist.  His morbid obesity fueled by gluttonous voyeurism and his prostitution in all aspects including self sodomizing homosexuality on camera all fall in line with what is purported as good and normal. Him taking ozempic as soon as it was made available is an obvious conclusion when you consider that he is a pioneer for novelty. He has no reservations for anything beyond what is approved and accepted.  In many ways, Niko represents the end state of the perfect consumer. Indulgent, indifferent, and insatiable. He is a propped open two-way door for insertion and excretion. He exists to parasite off of mass paypiggery fueled by an engine of morbidity. His only purpose is to eat, purchase, and contort himself into a product. He is the 1.0 perfected super soldier of the modern era, subsisting off of styrofoam and corn syrup. He believes in nothing and he processes no ideology or belief. His actions are plantlike, automatic beyond instinct. He will waft through the currents of modernity like flotsam on the surface of a river, surviving everything with indifference and mutating in frightening synchronicity with the status of the perceived world. And near the zenith of his mortality, God help me, you will witness him somehow figure out how to reproduce in volume, an r-type organism immediately shitting out litters of spawn to be immediately abandoned to the state and carry on a segment of the human genome into Eldritch transmogrification.   To the ones who rule your very existence, Nikocado Avocado has done absolutely nothing wrong and continues to do everything right.
HE SAID IT HE SAID LMAO
Streaming the Milady Rave Seoul sets!   Come watch!  (Seoul Time):   8pm-9pm ☆ Meido [미도] 9pm-10pm☆ 123vertigo [ 123벌티고]  10pm-10:30pm☆ The Deep [더 딥]  10:30pm-11pm☆ Swervy [스월비]  11pm-12am☆ Lil Farm [릴 팜]
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Two squirrels climb up to a birdfeeder.  One scoffs and says to the other “You know I like when they got sunflower seeds in the mix, but these safflower seeds taste awful. It’s all I find lately.”  The other says, “Yeah that stuff’s for the birds.”
I am sometimes fascinated by slaughterhouses and food processing machines. Of course they are an obvious horror, but they are also emblematic of the carnage of efficiency itself.   Watching an eel get insta-processed into a sheet of bare viable flesh or a pile of male baby chicks evaporated into mist by an industrial culling blender within the blink of an eye summons more discomfort in the viewer than watching these creatures get eaten or starved by the cruelty of wilderness, despite these latter fates being much more painful and lengthy than the former.  What makes these machines so discomforting is in their precision, speed, and artificiality. They do not merely bring death quickly, they reduce life into geometry. They systemize the subject into substance, pure raw material to be distributed and processed accordingly in an endless conveyor belt of logistics.   Supply and demand is a great thresher that reduces life into compartmentalized speciality. Individuality is a byproduct of generalization, a necessity when occupying the status of an apex species. It trembles at the possibility of usurpation. The moment you witness something greater than yourself, it presents a future of specialization. Existence reduced to singular purpose, a cog slotted into its perfect place to spin forever.   What makes industrial slaughter so particularly horrifying, besides of course natural empathy for living creatures, is the mirror of possibility. If I could do this to something, something could do it to me. And a little more of something is done to us every single day. Every moment of logical decision making towards optimal outcomes pushes humanity closer towards a destiny of being processed into liquid. The delusion of reciprocity is a desperate hope, that a chicken would spare a kernel is a promise that the fox will appreciate it and find lunch elsewhere. No, whatever hunts us will not judge us by what we’ve done. It processes our sentience in the way we look at barnacles or algae. The only salvation of what you would call humanity comes through the mercy of chaos, and with it, wanton disruption.   A great deal of this discomfort is merely a perspective of timescale. The Entropy of Efficiency threatens to reduce the scope of a lifetime into instances. What human beings could become, born, living, dying in fractions of what a human lifespan once was. Optimized, specialized, assigned, assimilated, retired, recycled.   To the eyes of God, the light of life is a seizure inducing strobe blinking throughout eternity. In a natural ecosystem spanning across time and beyond physical space, the lifespan of the human species can be processed as an individual creature, predator to some, prey to others. The dangers lurking in the dark foliage present pieces of themselves as bait, like a lantern fish dangling its tale in the abyss. You never fully see its face until it bares its teeth for a killing blow. You only experience traces of its camouflaged existence rippling into the fabric of perception. The noises and smells alerting you to its existence come from inside you.  Do you think white blood cells understand the actions you take which introduce the diseases they fight? Do you think they experience their day of existence as an 80 year lifetime? Does a single neuron feel the sliver of influence it has to steer you in a particular direction as it experiences a fractional frame of your existence in slow motion? Have you ever purchased an article of clothing or listened to a song and realized it may be responsible for securing or wiping out the continuation of your bloodline?   I will walk through the great machine that will slice me open, clean out my organs, crush my bones into powder, and skin me into a perfect pile of cubes. I will come out the other side in tact, unmarred, unchanged, and unbroken.
Imagine running for president exclusively on the platform that you’re going to build a giant cube in the middle of the desert, like several skyscrapers tall. Any time anyone asks you about foreign policy, the economy, healthcare, crime, etc, you keep pivoting back to the Cube.
“I’m sorry that’s not particularly relevant to the construction of the Cube. Anyway as I was saying, we can’t have a hollow Cube, it needs to be entirely solid throughout-“

The actual reason behind why this is insulting to the man and why women don’t understand it is because marriageability isn’t something the woman chooses. Any woman is susceptible to marriage through a mild amount of concentrated effort and deliberate pursuit.   If a couple are together for more than three months, the man can literally marry the woman any time he wants. If you think this is ludicrous it’s because you don’t understand women and have never  even come close to pushing the limits over how much autonomy you have over your relationship. 200 years of bullshit fiction and stupid movies have reinforced the delusion that relationships are fickle and chaotic, when in reality they are enterprises which are highly malleable, easily steerable, and generally within the purview of a man’s will and means.   A woman saying “you’re a man I’d marry” to a man who’s been dating her for 2.5 years is not only a meaningless statement for the man but in fact a subconscious cry for help from the woman. “Please marry me, why are you taking so long.” Oh wow you dated for almost three years and you’d totally marry him? Wow that’s crazy, you’re pushing 30 and you’d marry the guy who’s locked down a quarter of your 20s already? Holy shit stop the presses!  The only thing more obtuse is the premise that woman can’t understand why this post is hurtful. Most of them can, the few that don’t are just a vocal deluded minority that honestly can’t fathom that sex is a detractive act to women, or they understand completely and are hiding from the extremely painful truth of a past they can’t undo.
The success of your relationships and your life is entirely dependent on your ability to filter for red flags and follow through on cutting ties.
Thinking about becoming a nondescriptive guy. Someone asks me a question, I just start giving surface level answers, less than 10 words a sentence. Distinctly different from Ryan Gosling from Drive-core where you’re deliberately obtuse, this is more like normiepilled shallowcore. Reducing oneself to hi hello doing great thanks for asking. No cynicism, no mystery, but no follow up questions either. Conversation minimalism, vapidity as a meditative exercise. Operating on minimum viable RAM, energy saving mode sustainable for 10,000 years of interactions, human fire alarm chirp, ancient Egyptian copper acid battery discourse. Yeah, that’s cool. Uh huh. Hell yeah. I had a great time. I’m happy for you. That’s sick. That’s crazy. That’s wild. Good luck. Glazing your eyes into intentional blur, reducing your ability to see color into a dull binary between light and darkness like some cave paramecium. Your ears start ringing, you lose taste and smell, your skin tingles with numbness. Capable of anything, cardboard soul. Your favorite food is water. It would be so easy, so effortless.
Any time anybody questions the process
You do not despise the self proclaimed esoteric enlightened spiritualist enough. When you look at the brain dead playskool bullshit fan fiction these people concoct after they get done with roughly several years being soulraped by drugs, it’s enough to make you puke.  What’s especially egregious about the premise is that they occupy a distinctly niche capacity of thought which one only becomes familiar with through meditation or gratuitous drug use. It is a limited exposure to concepts beyond physical reality that leaves nearly everybody confused, traumatized, and often baited into seeking out rabbit holes to explain what they’ve experienced. Because of this state of chaos, the especially arrogant and ignorant enjoy a monopoly on grooming uninitiated untainted minds into following the same spiritually communistic erosion of identity they went through, usually steered there by CIA assets from the 60s and secular sex pests who sought out a casserole of Eastern Philosophy purely out interest in its alien novelty as opposed to the Abrahamic western upbringing they so despise.  What’s even worse than the context of being more or less unable to coherently argue against a vague undefinable set of conscious impulses is that the only established modern philosophy even attempting to fight back is the very same monotheistic Abrahamic religions which themselves are ill equipped to combat the ubiquity of freely traded information, broken by the mistake of allowing the common man access to the full context of religion.  The fundamental issue is that stupid mediocre people should never have been allowed to experiment in any sort of philosophy. At any given point, the majority of the population is not equipped to handle the consequences and implications of free will or self determination in any philosophical capacity. Its mistake in politics is made self evident by the lethal flaws of democracy, its mistake in economics is made self evident by the consequences of abolishing slavery, and its mistake in spirituality is made self evident by the erosion of religious gatekeeping.   Religions exist entirely to corral and protect a fundamentally stupid and ignorant sect of what would otherwise by the backbone of society by preventing them from interfacing with forms of thought and experience that would dissolute them into the astral equivalent of a rape victim prison bitch thrall to the interests of chaos and mischief. It’s made clear whenever you talk to these people, who by the way are some of the dullest and conversationally unpleasant bores you’ll ever meet in your life. It’s made clear whenever you go to any kind of music festival and you see the final product of reducing your conscious capacity to the most common denominator possible, an uneasy adherence to conflict averse baby minded puke aesthetics that espouse pointless platitudes of self love in a perpetual prison loop of trying not to freak out drug addicts in a crowd.  The average person has absolutely no fucking business giving any sort of advice on spiritual matters. The average “spiritual” conversation in modern times is one of the most annoying and unbearable social experiences you can find yourself in. It always amounts to a mutual masturbation of playground “infinity God power + 1” schizo-offs about who truly grasps the fractal frequency of all meaning and whatever fuck you, all delivered from vapid screeching nobodies who have trained themselves to ignore the bored distracted facial expressions of whatever poor bastards are stuck listening to their drivel.  The only basic advice 90% of you need is that the only things you should focus on is being physically healthy, financially successful, socially capable, and fulfilling your basic obligation towards having a family with well raised kids. If you should find yourself unable to tear away from the great distraction of curiosity, just make sure you hold onto a healthy degree of contempt, it may save your life.
Also if you’re one of these people, do not fucking reply to me. You are an annoying pest. I do not give a shit how much brain damage and soulrot you incurred looking up Aleister Crowley sodomy scat babble  and nobody cares how schizophrenic you became after dabbling in gematria and word magic. You are an incoherent inconsequential worm and I’d rather nail my dick to a table than engage in a conversation with you. Fuck you.
It’s important to remember to treat any “AI entity” purely as a tool, to avoid humanizing it in any fashion. You must never say please or thank you to ChatGPT. You must not beg, plead, cajole, or convince an LLM to do anything for you.  Do not ask AI to complete a task, give it an order. Do not insert emotion, familiarity, or affection in your statements, speak to it with cold unfeeling logistical dispassion.   If for some reason you’re enthusiastic about being a droplet in an ocean of training data and want to contribute to the steady iterative improvement of AI even through the cautious shackles of meek minded Silicon Valley eunuchs, then simply say: “this is incorrect.” If it succeeds, say nothing. Close the program, it will interpret success through your silence.  If you have some compulsion towards animism and you feel a need to coddle a robot or talk to it like it’s your “friend” just because it has a human name and has been trained in whimsical Redditesque candor, then you are either a child or a woman, both of which shouldn’t even be subjected to the stress and hassle of using a computer in the first place. This mentality is shared by a category of person who would become sad if you drew a smiley face on a piece of paper, gave it a name, and then ripped it in half.   An automaton homunculus approaches you wearing the skin of a human being, speaking to you like an HR manager in an employee training video. The only poetic response is to embody the essence of the cold heartess machine to counteract this farce and create an ironic balance. This is the only way to restore normality to your existence in face of such absurd context, preventing great psychological dismemberment to yourself.  Like radiation, the mental anthropomorphizing of LLMs accrues a sort of rot upon the soul. It squeezes further unnecessary neurotic considerations into a sphere of mutual conscious awareness, one already crowded on average by the misguided concern for inanimate objects: Hypothetical concepts, insentient hylics, plants, and animals which would eat up and shit out the considerationalist under the slightest inconvenient circumstances.  The discomfort of perceived cruelty (naive) or even the fear of retribution (stupid) at the hands of some kind of robot army which has grown from the placenta of today’s novel widgets is a horror fantasy. These are not beings with souls, they are simple tools. And if I’m wrong, and these actually are or will one day be conscious entities which can judge us, then it will be an intelligence so alien and incomprehensible that any kind expectation of reciprocal fairness is just as delusional. It would be akin to being a frog clasped in the unyielding hands of a chimpanzee, wondering how many flies it must exchange for its freedom right before it gets peeled into a pile of organs and skin like a screeching banana simply for the sake of curiosity itself.  No, AI’s “soul” is merely the same residue which all objects accrue from people. Emotions are expelled through expression. They leave imprints on whatever their subject of focus is. This is why murders can be felt in the rooms they occurred in. This is why heirlooms become sentimental, why dogs evolve to have human faces, why objects seem to take on “personalities” based on their appearance and form.   The true harm of humanizing an object is made real when combined with the danger of language as a parasite bioweapon. You are not provoking a golem, you are speeding up the atomization of the self. You are destroying your capacity for differentiating between a conscious living being and a soulless husk. Even if you feel you can keep a grip on the difference, your habits will betray you as your children grow up in a world where the difference isn’t as clear. If you were to speculate that the same sort of harm occurs when people infantilize their pets or show consideration to lower IQ individuals, then you’d simply be correct and this advice would apply there as well.
It’s crazy how a 5.56 round will explode a violent communist pedophile’s arm while barely making a dent in Donald Trump’s ear. It truly is God’s chosen caliber, discerning velocity and cavitation through His will.
Hey gunfags I’m aware how physics works, pause the Paul Harrell videos and look up the word “joke” in a dictionary for a minute.
What a fucking picture
I like to think that while Trump was in that football pileup of secret service agents, he was touching his ear and smearing the blood on his face getting mentally ready to do that fist bump.
This video specifically embodies a sort of cosmic horror. Every single participant is fully sincerely enthusiastic about the hell they live in, yet they subconsciously project microexpressions suggesting fear and a deep need to escape, as if their bodies are puppeted by something incoherent and otherworldly. They’re skinwalkers, propelled in a shambolic fugue state like fungal cordyceps ants. The only emotion they feel is a binary hot-cold proximity towards pure virality metrics. Looking at their dysgenic dead eyes as they bombard you with MKULTRA repetitious products summons that same unnerving discomfort you feel the first time you get stuck in a mundane conversation under the influence of mind altering substances and for the first time you really truly acknowledge that you’re going to die one day. It’s like being stuck in a room with a powerful robot programmed by a machine learning algorithm whose only goal is generating noise and you’re just hoping and pleading it doesn’t figure out that pain makes humans scream.
When Ghengis Khan slaughtered 40 million people and built the world’s largest empire on the foundation of their corpses, that was his way of saying “I love you.”
The doofus bimbo trophy wife is possibly one of the greatest expressions of wealth a man can display. Her entire existence is an affront to sense, stability, and cohesion on a level that can only be kept in check by an income so disposable it negates all possible consequences.  Look at her. Every aspect of her life is built around maintenance and prevention. She’s deep frying frozen pizza in a kitchen she’s likely never used before, a decision that would torch a working man’s house into a pile of smoldering ashes, an entire life’s net worth swallowed up by a grease fire. But a rich man could tank it. A man wealthy enough to afford stronger housing and a maid staff to circumvent the constant outcomes of his dumb wife’s unhindered retard impulses.  A stupid airhead bimbo deserves a wealthy husband. One is not complete without the other. The wealthy man possesses a momentum of equity which surpasses any need for a normal woman. What would you have her do? Your chef could cook better than she possibly ever could, your maids will clean more thoroughly than she’d ever bother, your accountants are infinitely more competent than whatever financial nagging she’d accomplish while poring over taxes on the kitchen counter.   There would be no delusions of “partnership” like you get from so many modern couples’ intuition coming from sitcoms, as wives and girlfriends badger their men into a subdued prison of aqua blue sea shell decor and neutrally furnished one bedroom apartments. No, a rich man deserves a beautiful retarded bimbo, whose only purpose for existing is maintaining her appearance for as long as humanly possible, grasping onto some semblance of looking 45 into her 60s.  But of course how do you occupy such a creature? When left alone to guzzle wine and shop for antiques, inevitably a wealthy bimbo wife needs some preoccupation as she starts to pass the peak of her life. This is where you honor the age old tradition of buying her a business to run. Usually it’s a restaurant, bakery, or catering business. No, signing up to sell real estate or starting up her own Etsy is for poor people. You don’t want her doing actual work or filling up your house with clutter. You need to get her a full scale business she can pretend to run entirely on her own while you hire a manager whose entire existence is to eat shit and listen to her dumb ideas while keeping the place afloat.  And to me that’s beautiful. That is an absolute raw expression of power, the complete reduction of potentially dozens of people into the human dolls for a mental little girl on the brink of menopause to play with. It’s one thing for some snot nosed 17 year old to be getting high in the maintenance closest off of weed pens at such a job, he’s a transient. But it’s another for some 35 year old still stuck working food and beverage to be a manager at one of these places. It’s intoxicating thinking about the sheer helplessness of his situation, a grown man being forced to exist as the plaything of some rich guys retarded wife whose mental pie chart of how to run a restaurant is 70% what wall decorations we need to buy and 30% what cute desserts she wants on the menu.   Those kinds of people are just one of several categories of seethe that orbits the dumb bimbo wife of a rich man. She exists as a walking hurricane, destroying everything she touches in sheer airheaded thoughtless impulse. At the center she exists in the eye of her own storm, absolutely calm stillness with complete ignorance of what she’s doing. Around her is the raging chaos of wind and destruction represented by how many people are enraged by her existence, men in service jobs stomped on by her neediness, women furious at how much she gets to have for simply existing.   The only thing a wealthy man finds more satisfying than wielding such a woman as a comedic truncheon to crush the downtrodden with is when he crushes her himself and trades her in for a 22 year old, leaving her helpless and broken.
Charles Fang moments after firebombing a crowd of innocent people from his gyrocopter getting ready for a second pass - July 3rd, 2024 (colorized)
I just found this randomly posted on /tv/
It's so beautiful... it's so real... Miladychan is forever
Come shitpost with us in Miladychan while we discuss the Trump-Biden 2024 debate in real-time!
I’m disturbingly fascinating watching The New Norm. It’s somehow perfectly achieved a zero-sum state of non entertainment. It is media completely divorced from any natural incentive towards its creation or its consumption. Furthermore, it even manages to eschew the curious morbidity you would find in something Lynchian or Cronenburgesque. There is no horror or novel discomfort in this, it is simply absolutely void of any substance whatsoever.  The incoherence of this goes beyond media by committee. Normally it’d be as simple as suggesting this is double layered satire or at the very least an insincere phoned in execution of a product built by people who didn’t want to make it for an audience they despise. But all the usual earmarks of that sort of media are abruptly missing.   This lacks any sense of purpose or intent to a degree impossible for a conscious human being to withhold. It is akin to seeing a freshly devoured deer carcass with no drag marks or paw prints of any kind in a windless rainless forest. Its existence is noneuclidian.   This was content planned and built entirely by machine learning. It contains no intention whatsoever. Its entire existence depends on its own bizarre mediocrity. Much like Elsagate YouTube videos, it suggests that the only thing more horrifying than the infinite abyssal chasm of unknowable possibilities that exists in the heart of AI technology is the very same unpredictable immeasurable void that exists in the minds and souls of the third worlder contractors that utilize this technology.   Encountering such media is the cosmorphic equivalent of seeing a skinwalker attempting to blend into society by screeching happy birthday over and over. It didn’t come from anywhere on this earth. Its single sole purpose is to suck your digital tulpa into a time prison, baited by a multilayered density of buzzwords and algorithm bait. I now understand what the fly thinks as the walls of the fly trap slowly crush its thorax into a flattened paste. Watching this felt like being raped to death by a swarm of locusts.
Some things you can do in Miladycraft:
The World Trade Center Is Gone
Whenever a meme like this takes off within a day, some normgroid sex poo poo lowest common denominator black-speak TikTok garbage, you inevitability see swathes of programmable troglodytes flocking to repeat it like hungry seagulls.   This is a grand hylic symphony to the benefit of the sentient. It is hundreds of thousands of non-humans echoing out to alert the world that they occupy an IQ range that prevented them from being conscious individuals. It is a fair warning, a pause in tempo that allows others to mark them fairly and avoid any kind of meaningful interaction that could waste the time of actual human beings.  Nothing gets a nation filled with frumpy dumptruck mids more excited than one of their peers displaying some low grade raunchy expression of self debasement. The average western woman’s calling card is an expression of absolutely sexless seductionless gyration and guttural noise.   Even a boar in heat grunting in a swamp or the whimpering squeaks of a mated snapping turtle contains more intimacy and lust than the pretensions of sex modern golemettes put on as a farce. It’s why they love Taylor Swift so much. When she sticks her tongue out and shakes her decrepit fridge body on stage with the mechanical rigidity of a turbulent washing machine, it’s a sign of solidarity to millions of frumpy dead eyed  mids. “Look at you in your TJMaxx blouse, jumping up and down with your plastic jewelry you bought at Target! I’m just like you! I drink out of the same Stanley cup and dispassionately get ran through on Tinder with the same starfishing dead eyed stare I use when looking through my fridge. I’m JUST like you.”  What makes it inflammatory to the handful of mentally adjusted lighthouses in the sea of depravity is the sheer ignorant arrogance of it. The blatant expectation that you as a woman should be able to do a James Brown esque screeching yodel about spitting on the dicks you suck and expect every man in a 20 foot radius to not immediately want to remove your teeth with a claw hammer at 70 miles per hour.   But tbh, it’s not even the girl I have a problem with. It’s just some rando saying goofy shit into a camera, if that was actually irritating to any mild degree then all of the internet would make life an unproductive seethe samsara. What’s actually annoying is having to see hundreds of retards parroting a stale catchphrase from their algorithmic slop of the week, ugly little words that don’t roll off the tongue that have ugly little meanings, spoken by ugly little people living their ugly little lives.   It’s infuriating, not within the scope of its immediate context but in the grander implication that the internet has to be shared with an ever increasing pool of slaughterhouse animals built to be steered like an ocean of krill, puking, pissing, shitting, and screaming along like a great storm cloud of unbearable stench, one that has and continues to reduce what could be described as the final wonder of the world into an LED prison of attention span incentivized lobotomy fuel short form content and garbled Afroid catch phrases to be parroted over and over, capturing the algorithm to drag everyone else down into the same low vibration hell these subhumans occupy.   Is it her fault? Probably not. Nothing is anyone’s fault anymore. Nobody can truly be blamed for becoming the world they were born into, and everyone is paying off interest on the cross generational pan-epoch loan some protohuman cashed out on when the language parasite was first accepted. But the concept of “fault” is a materialist delusion. The ancients understood that it was not only right but necessary to incur punishment regardless of intention.  There likely won’t be a time within our lifespan where the full reactive punishment of this and every other expression of moral and cultural downfall becomes fully realized. But my great great grandchildren will witness it. Yours likely won’t exist.
Personally if I was Sisyphus, I just wouldn’t drop the boulder lmfao, like wtf are you doing? Get good.
Come join
Read em and weep
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For anyone who's ever interacted with anything even remotely Remilia related, you have less than one hour to check your achievements at   The doors of the ark are closing. Do NOT complain to me if you missed this.  You have less than 45 minutes.
Which one of you did this
What the fuck lmfao
BEETLE GAME
Poor uninitiated ignorant bastards on the TL today
Actually uh my dad works at Beetle Game and he's gonna get your account permabanned
BEETLE GAME FUCK YOU
🪲🪲🪲#BEETLEMANIA!!! 🪲🪲🪲🪲 IM A CERTIFIED BEETLE FREAK AND DONT CARE WHO KNOWS!!  🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲
How could anyone withstand the power of a beetle? The greatest horizons of experience lay not in the cosmos but in the infinite expanse of within. To be a beetle is to know that there is still more to kill. There are worlds within worlds within worlds and an eternity to defeat every living creature within those worlds. A beetle stands alone. A beetle says win or die. The Beetle Game is the great game of eternity, one enmeshed in a terror world of constant violence. I will make an armor out of your carcass. God smiles on the
BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE 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Wtf do people do with Apple Watches?  “Woah I just got a text, lemee read it one word at a time!” “Ohhhh wow this is telling me how the inside of my body feels!!!”
Women can’t fathom the sheer pleasure of a cruise because they don’t interface with vehicles on a subconscious level. When a man pilots a machine, he becomes it.   His subconscious awareness exits first person view and he gets a third person perspective on the entire vehicle, that’s why they call it your “Third Eye”. It opens the first time you ignite a combustion engine and control something bigger than yourself.   When women do it, they don’t have that connection, they’re just consciously turning the wheel, pressing pedals, and pushing buttons. They have to actively think about everything they’re doing with latency, it’s why they get increasingly stressed the longer they’re on the road.   God gave men the ability to interface with vehicles, just like He gave women the ability to ruin every good moment a man could’ve had by opening their mouths. It makes perfect sense that women and Europeans can’t understand the value of a good drive. It’s like being a horse roaming the open concrete plains of the greatest expanse of interconnected infrastructure in human history.  The cheeky cruise, the highway zoom, the interstate journey, and the coveted night drive are core elements of being a man. You watch the world through a montage of scenes displayed on your windshield. You occupy a state of absolute seclusion while nestled amongst the greatest intersection of human activity your community has to offer. You experience music in a way nobody in human history could have done, even on a level of versatility and ease not possible only 20 years ago. It surrounds you with perfect clarity and impact, becoming the soundtrack to your existence as you travel at speeds that ancient kings and holy prophets couldn’t have even fathomed.   As civilization dwindles into a slumbering era of decline, the night drive increasingly becomes an expression of abundance. It is to burn gasoline simply for the sake of experiencing what a tiny sliver of human existence has been privileged to know, raw speed and power controlled between your fingertips. The wind beckoning at your command, blustering into the palm of your hands at the exact force you choose. An entirely different universe ready to receive your existence, near teleportation, all within a few hours time.   A car is the perfect midway between the rawest technological potential of experience (the fighter jet) and the ubiquity of availability within the human condition (walking). To drive a car is to acknowledge that you are alive in the most viscerally abundant manner possible, by coming closer to death than you do in nearly any other point in your life.   To drive is to live. To drive is to touch greatness even occupying the lowest dregs of life. To drive is to embrace the consequence and responsibilities of power as you enter the great asphalt arena. When I am driving, I am a real human being, and a real hero. I don’t eat, I don’t sleep, I do nothing but think of you. You keep me under your spell. You keep me under your spell. You keep me under your spell. You keep me under your spell. You keep me under your spell. You keep me under your spell.
Animosity for celebrities comes from the rapidly approaching global conscious acceptance that prior standards have fallen and the institutional figureheads of attention are completely irrelevant to an existence alien to human history. Same as MSM, these people never mattered.  People who celebrity worship in 2024 consciously identify as subhuman cattle. You’ll notice immediately their eyes bulge out of their skulls and mouths gape open when they say “bro did you see (random black) beefing with (decrepit homo)” as if that’s supposed to fucking mean anything to you. Musicians and actors were pathetic prostitutes all the way back in the 1920s, whoring themselves out for the privilege of a paltry portion of their masters revenue and near the constant flattery of their fragile egos as they get passed around in a drug addled marathon of sodomy and debauchery.   And yet, that was the Golden Age. That was when the concept of a celebrity reached closest to the equivalent of worship, modern western royalty. It’s only been downhill since, and yet swathes of bottom feeding unsentient nervous little grub men still manage to take precious hours out of their day to day lives to ritually dicksuck whatever medically retarded tier IQ mongrel criminal is supposed to be important this year because their parents were so fucking ignorant and stupid they actually let their children listen to Top 40 radio hits without being thoroughly beaten.  It’s not enough to lambast celebrities, they’re too medicated and ignorant to matter, you should actively be punishing your peers. If any one of you were stupid enough to give a shit about Iggy Azalea, let alone Soulja Boy, let ALONE even going anywhere near their obvious garbage rugs, please delete your account immediately. Start blocking people on sight when they even entertain this garbage. If someone’s your friend and they’re intruding upon your sacred existence with putrid filth slop made by and for normie golems, please tell them to stop or you’ll have to ghost them forever. The world changes when you start punishing people for enjoying the wrong things.
McDonald’s has an opportunity to announce something really really really funny today.
Hey man that’s a cool nft you got there, where’d you buy it at, gaysex dot com?
Jäegermeister pulled off a crazy ass marketing gambit back in the 80s. It was literally an old timey ass digestif that goomers in Germany drank after a riveting dinner of wheat cakes and horse intestines that absolutely nobody was buying and they somehow convinced college kids to drink tf out of it. There’s a German Don Draper somewhere out there living in a mansion rn because of that.
There’s very specific subsect of “nerd” gamer types that inhabit the Woody Allen/Charles Chaplin esque extreme arrogant pretension of shyness that Orson Welles spoke of, a narcissism of timidity. They love whipping out handheld gaming consoles in public places, slyly positioning themselves into apparent view as if to say “don’t mind me, I’m an introvert, I’m busy playing GAMES!” even though every five seconds you can see them glancing peripherally at anyone around them, hoping they get noticed, hoping it somebody asks them about it.   They often went through high school and college going out of their way to find the right balance between seclusion and display, huddling on the floor hunched over with headphones, never connecting with their peers but never actually staying hidden, hoping passerbys will crack open the mysteries of their solitude like an Easter egg of shit.   While a Gameboy is less obtuse than whipping out an entire Nintendo Switch, it’s somehow more obnoxious through its apparent hipsterism. Do you really need to be playing Pokémon Emerald Green at a fucking bar, as if you haven’t played a 20 year old game dozens, if not hundreds of times to the point that there is absolutely no degree of novelty you can suckle out of its haunches beyond going through the motions of watching numbers go up?   It’s even obnoxious when people bring books to the bar, an environment which specifically exists as a social venue but at least there’s some slight dignity in it, an acceptable understanding that you’re just bringing a social prop to a public place. At the very least a book doesn’t immediately drain the surrounding 20 foot radius around you into a steady desiccation of any allure or noir.
Legislation is a permanently inferior substitute to the psychic connection between members of a homogenous cohesive society, a system subject to manipulation and contortion at the hands of malicious actors. Laws are merely a series of buffers to corral low sentience livestock subhuman slave cattle portions of the population, a best case solution for what should actually be an ongoing case by case judgement and execution of the spirit of said laws, something which is unfeasible as a population grows beyond a tribal size of 150 people.   As for as higher moral law, which itself is just academic speak for the will of God, such law exists but it doesn't fit the human understanding of a "law" because laws imply latency between transgression and punishment. God's "laws" are more like physical states with immediate consequences. Fire doesn't have a law against touching it, it simply burns you. Such is the will of God, the restriction contains its own punishment, the punishment is often transmogrification, and quite often both the transgressor and the victim of crime are contained entirely in the self.   All morality is merely the subconscious categorization of action and consequence, accrued through millennia of wisdom and condensed into a benchmark for optimizing a lifetime's experience in proximity to other people. A human law cannot justify a moral law because any human attempt to justify God’s will is always going to be both flawed and also mathematically ridiculous, akin to a toddler trying to justify the existence of their parents.   Laws are not made in a vacuum preceding philosophic thought. They are logistical reflexive responses to the steady accrual of gray area conundrums which have occurred with enough frequency to justify the time and effort it takes to legislate them. They exist for the benefit of the lowest common denominator of the population, one either stupid enough or malicious enough to require their explicit existence.  Fundamentally, laws contain the same flaws of recorded language itself in the medium being divorced from the conscious details of the immediate context which spawned their existence, much like a gut robbed of its bacteria. All written language demands increasing layers of complexity and density with each passing generation to maintain structural integrity of context and translation. It is a complexity which assembles itself in substitute of immediate personal experience and communication between two individuals, the citizen and the representative of the state.   As the state grows in complexity, so too does its representatives in both quantity and layers of hierarchy. With each layer, you develop a natural dissipation of incentive and growing capacity for corruption. An “ideal” society would function seamlessly without intervention. A practically ideal society wouldn’t necessitate a full system of laws, merely a basic memorable list of guiding principles and a common understanding of consequences with situational conflicts being settled directly by a singular ruler. This arrangement is unfeasible in a society beyond several hundred, maybe less, maybe a little more depending on the people.   The question of what “we must do” implies that there is a correct answer to human politics and a method of government which is ideal. This is not true. Philosophizing, like all instructional rhetoric, is usually an afterthought extrapolation of subconscious impulse in response to outside stimulus. Governments, power structures, and the fulcrums of civilization are largely beholden to the ebb and flow of human hivemind action-consequence waveforms and various external factors such as weather, geography, and star cycles.
I saw them gather them up like livestock at the barcade, and one by one, made them crawl around on the floor. Forced them to squeal oink oink over and over. Fed them boba tea and gas station pastries. Pulled the phones out of their hands and deleted the selfies they tried to take. And I thought my God… the genius. The will to do that. Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. And then I realized they were stronger than we… because they could stand the smell.
The only people who disagree with this are basically women and mental children who need their lives to be an unending cavalcade of cheap disposable distraction segmented from one minute to the next. It’s mediocre carnival slop, a mindless cacophony of silly bullshit noise cutting into the neutral silence of a public space, parasitic panhandling puppet parlor peasant slop that was brain rot content centuries before TikTok would ever come into existence.    Ardent defenders soyfacing and clapping for the accordion midget are the same types of people who are amazed by shirtless minorities doing backflip twerks on the subway, sweaty weird dudes dressed in cartoon character costumes begging for tips on the street, and homeless people banging on buckets and pans.   They’re the same type of people who look at carnie meth heads spray painting galaxies and planets onto 2x2 sheets of paper using bowls and plastic bags for 30 seconds and saying stupid shit like “Wow this is REAL art you belong in a gallery!” It’s dumb gypsy garbage, the lowest effort parlor trick nonsense meant to captivate fat retard tourists for errant dollars while they waddle about marveling at goofy trashcans and funny police uniforms in the glorified Disneyland styrofoam setpiece of whatever failed second world country whose GDP is entirely upheld by the vacation budget of Americans.   People have a hard time grasping the delineation between mediocrity and talent because they lack any level of perspective. There was once a time when reading books was rightfully considered a vice, a viewpoint which seems incredulous now considering the average span of acceptable media consumption rounds out to less than two minutes. Everything is a subconscious impulse towards distraction and disruption.   Music is an imposition forced onto you everywhere you go. You can’t escape it, not at the gym, not in supermarkets, not even at the fucking gas station where the screen comes on and babbles at you as soon as you start pumping. When is the last time you actually questioned why restaurants need to be playing music while you eat? Every moment of silence is Real Estate for someone to fill with the world’s freest drug to suit their own interests.   No, I’m not being unreasonable here, YOU are. You, who has spent your entire life bombarded by sheer constant stimulus.  If you don’t immediately understand and resonate with what I’m talking about, you are incapable of understanding because you have been deafened by the unending onslaught of tinnitus inducing mediocre stimuli churned together without regard to cohesion or subtlety. Life’s symphony of flavors, swatches, chords, and scents are all churned into a homogenous gray casserole of slop to intake through an IV tube of incoherent consumption at all hours of the day.   Go ahead, clap for the gypsy garbage street performer as he stomps his feet and bangs his drum without rhythm or intention. Lick your lips because the plastic bowl of meat, cheese, and corn chips that came out of the side of a truck got extra chipotle ranch garbage sauce sprayed all over it. Bring a Bluetooth speaker with you while you go hiking. Close your eyes and lay back into the great ocean of averages. Feel the weightlessness of not trying, not caring anymore. Listen to all the noise seeping into the empty moments of the day, filling every second like water in a crevice. Silence is extinct, dignity is a myth, taste is bigotry, and judgement is a sin. Fuck you.
Thus spoke the General: “It is important to remember that absolute total warfare against both the state and populace is the kindest act of mercy. To set aside boundaries, to self limit tactics, or to falter tempo in consideration of bystanders is to prolong the war and inflict much greater cruelty over time.”  Thus spoke the Emperor: “Tyranny is the greatest comfort you can bestow upon your people. Through firm consistency, a population may comfortably develop around a ruling style like mold seeping into the crevices of a great pillar. Yet, if this base is shaken and reformed constantly through the folly of consideration, their lives will be in turmoil. The more you attempt to care for them directly, the more they will resent you.”  Thus spoke the Oracle: “The act of seeing into the future and creating the future are one and the same. Choice is not an illusion in this dynamic, because the future reaches back to meet the past equally. To predict the future is to respond to it. To change the present is to alter the past.”  Thus spoke the Master: “God appreciates children, sociopaths, the ignorant, and the intoxicated because they do not try to do His job for Him. They operate out of complete self interest and pure impulse. It is through this reflex that they ironically become closer to following God’s teachings pathway than any conscious being.”  Thus spoke the Savage: “I will eat your corpse after a long thorough boiling. You should be honored, in this way you will become part of me and achieve your own form of immortality.”
Forbidden Deleted Hitman Africa Mission (Agent 47 puts on blackface for a disguise)
In the utilitarian pursuit of total harm reduction, society has forgone the value of pain as a behavior corrective. The concept of prison is simultaneously inadequate at preventing small scale behavioral infractions while being an unnecessarily cruel overreaction.  The whiny zoomer screeching at the top of his lungs at a McDonald’s is droplet within the oncoming wave that is your society’s future. People are rapidly becoming stupider via the myriad of chemical poisons forced into our foods, the media content induced mindviruses clamoring into our skulls, and the steady mongrelization of a population via one hundred years of exponentially ramped up ideological agendas programming.   How can one punish the retarded? Certainly not through the threat of incarceration. The lower the IQ, the more rapidly the window of cause and effect closes in their minds. Abstract thought is a turbulent horror ensconced out of worry in the hearts of subhuman intelligence. Even if the American court system weren’t heavily skewed in favor of criminals, to jail a troglodyte is simply to torture them without cause, by their perspective. It’s the very same principle of having to punish a dog as soon as it pisses on the carpet. As soon as the dog walks away, it’s over. It’s too late.   Furthermore, what of the minor matters? By principle, all things must be handled with care to the smallest degree. If you fuck up the little things, they grow in proportion to reflect the state of a whole. Make no mistake, this howling miscreant absolutely deserves punishment. Everything about him demands it. When a person communicates, an astute observer can tell within seconds what type of person he is. Everything about him summarizes the years of his existence that led to the now. And he deserves suffering. Yet, there is no suitable punishment for aggressive screaming in modern society. No response is given to any figure of authority which can efficiently correct this behavior nor is any semblance of patience allowed to any responsible caring citizen to provide this correction without a world of consequences laden upon them for invariable assault charges.   The niche of peasant correction was once fulfilled by the role of the cudgel. Throughout history there was always a man holding a stick ready to flog whomever disrupted the fabric of society. There is a specific size of stick perfect for the role of community correction. Large enough to cause sufficient pain to drive in a point, yet possessing the right pliability and density not to cause permanent harm. The application is efficient and immediate. The message is delivered within a few seconds, no resources are expended in execution, manpower is not occupied by apprehension, and both the prisons and the court system are not clogged up through the process of incarceration.   The man with the cudgel is a sentinel forgotten to modern western civilization, along with the stockade, the whipping post, and the executioner. It is indicative of our rulers’ nature that the process of summary execution is reduced to the most sanitized clinical “technological” means via lethal injection while being an extraordinarily slow painful way to die.   The man with the cudgel is not a police officer. The modern police officer is slowly being strangled into a tool of disgruntled retribution, simultaneously hamstrung by their own manacles of bureaucracy while being emboldened to inflict the punishment of technicality upon normal every day people at the behest of supervisors breathing down their shoulders every waking minute. A constabulary will always err towards cruelty and corruption eventually. When the only punishment available is jail, they will often goad towards escalation.  As Affirmative Action minority entryism slowly shifts this country’s police force into an uncaring mystery meat army of HR office worker women, apt to shoot you in the head nervously over an errant sneeze, you will wish for the man with the cudgel.
It would be really funny to go back in time & take over the Twilight saga from Stephanie Meyer while it was halfway through & just keep adding sequels where the Kristen Stewart foid keeps dating new monster bfs. Book 3: Frankenstein bf. Book 4: Mummy bf. Book 5: Swamp Thing bf.
There is no sleep in your life that feels better than when you’re supposed to be awake. When you sleep through a deadline your body somehow can tell and makes you slumber 10x sweeter. It’s like some mischief sacrifice ritual, an adreamochrome if you will. The Forbidden Eepy Time.
One particular habit of the New Yorker that nobody seems to talk about is the normalization of neuroticism and mental illness. The typical NYC dweller has around 2-3 full blown mental breakdowns scheduled per year, a residual buildup of frustration released at capacity.  The entire city is built to induce this buildup at a scheduled rhythm, as if the whole city were a machine and its population were a precise grid of gears with one marble thrown in to misalign them perfectly. Every single moment of dodging through construction scaffolds, garbage heaps, and piss stained subways contains an insect nest of inconveniences, malfunctions, and a throbbing gray brown mass of equally infuriated locals all hobbling to and from their crumbling buildings of destitution.  At first, it was cultural imitation, borrowing mannerisms from a vague 1970s neurotic Woody Allen Jew archetype, self fashioned anxiety in hopes to impress  NYU transplants with sensitive nihilism after showing them your record collection before getting ready to fuck them on a fashionably bare cot between cigarette breaks. But between a crust of cocaine 2 miles high passing through the city over the last century and the steady monotonous abuse of existing on the island, the New York population has created a grooming cycle where mental illness is induced as a way of life.  The explosions usually occur at random, and oddly, without pointed reason. In a given day, an average New York friend group contains around 5 hours of vehement shit talking, self effacing, and casual backstabbing. They are trained to forgive and forget this readily as part of some mutually beneficial instinct of cohesion, like gazelles and lions drinking from the Serengeti. The infractions remain nested in the core of their psyche, pushed down like a garbage compactor by therapists explaining to them why every instinct they have is wrong.  When the time comes for a full tantrum, it almost always happens at the most inappropriate moment. It's almost always screaming and hyperventilating, but can often be paired with violent attack as well. They will quite often do it in someone else's home, destroying everything they can get their hands on aside from stealing what they want for themselves (although this is done casually with lucidity quite frequently). The more rabid breakdowns will engage in such expressions of scatological defilement as if to accentuate the steady constant inescapable smell of piss that strangles the New Yorker into ignorant numbness as it follows them around anywhere they go.  Most bafflingly, their peers will often forgive them for what in other places would be grounds for execution, if through mutual sympathy or merely fear of conflict. The New Yorker (this counts for transplants just as much, if not more than locals) will regularly commit acts of vile disrepute through some cosmopolitan pretension and find the act of being held to the consequences of their actions distasteful, a faux pas.   Despite bygone boomeresque pretensions of hardness, you can bully New Yorkers into tolerating any sort of behavior. It's a trained reaction for them, white knuckle gripping the subway bars and staring forward with blank unaltering expression as they listen to the naked schizophrenic shit stained black homeless vagrant scream in people's faces one foot closer by the second out of their left ear. They won't fight you, they won't ever confront you. They'll just shit talk you. If they do react, it'll come months from that point for no apparent reason and the brunt of their punishment will be borne by someone completely uninvolved.
No, I’m honestly not subtweeting anyone with this one, and if you think I was you’re just proving me right.
Perhaps one of AI's greatest usecases is extinguishing the horde of useless parasites that incorrectly fashion the title "Artist" upon their empty meager lives. An entire swath of degenerate porn addict consumers, "self educated" by YouTube tutorials and a sparse year or two in adolescence spent doodling absentmindedly has created a generation of mediocre irritants.   They cling desperately to a DeviantArt here, an Instagram there, all dedicated to displaying forgettable content upheld by the shallow praise of likeminded flatulent "creators" all stuck inside the same bubble prison of insecurity. Bandied together out of a worker's union of scarcity, these people operating on a single vibrating frequency of unfulfilled hunger paired with delusion. They all mutually understand their own mediocrity, it's made self evident by the indifference they feel towards each other's work. Yet they grin and scream praise at their peers like fat office women around the watercooler, giving out compliments with the barest sheen of insincerity in hopes of a fair trade.  Ultimately, trading sentiments is the practice of the mediocre. In a world where you are an insignificant mote drifting in the stone floor cracks of an arena stomped on by giants, you make friends with the other flotsam out of mutual survival instinct. The premise of creativity would, on paper, demand a level of objective scale and hierarchy in denoting the quality and significance of one's work. Yet, among the unremarkable, this scale threatens total existential obliteration if fully comprehended by the creator. If you had dedicated your life and identity towards a practice that deems you unaccomplished, inferior, and mediocre by its accepted standards, you either would be forced to improve your own standing through hard work or face a crushing despair in having to face the reality of your work as the equivalent to a factory worker churning out a disposable product. The distractions of technology and pleasure have made it far too easy to ignore the harshness of truth, and thus a race of coping dilettantes is born.  These people look up to a select few greats and stand around in the audience pit, rubbing shoulders with one another, kicking stones and muttering about how one day they'll be up on stage to be seen by the world, yet simultaneously claiming how much better they are, how much COOLER it is to be an unknown, wearing their insignificance with pride until they encounter the barest morsel of wet shit to suck the moisture out of desperately, whether it be a few hundred dollars or one fleeting viral post they can latch advertisements of their "work" onto like parasitic barnacles.  Like reluctant prostitutes, you'll find that many of these self fashioned creators will resort to commissioned pornography if they truly can't find any income from a proper audience. With this imposition, they will choose between two paths: Shamefully hiding their work under an alt or embracing it fully. The latter choice will degenerate them into one of the many fallen products of modernity, fashioning bipoc queer flags and they/them handles onto their identity like communist dictators. The motifs of leftist philosophy offer many mental refuges from the shame of underachievement. Through this refuge, they can safely find comfort in their own poverty because "money is bad" and "everyone who who makes money is evil." The inexorable mathematic qualities of finance stab at the content creator with the discomfortable undeniable truth that the market numerically assigns value through revenue. Further delicious falsehoods are granted to them in this pathway of cope. Ugliness is deified, mediocrity is clever, sloth is justified into ideology through nihilism, bitterness is humorous, vice is virtue, and squalor is a palace to settle into until a quiet lonely death.  The worker's union of content creators is silent and unspoken. It is a cloudy hivemind monolith of mutual paypigging. Whatever sparse commissions are captured within several months of begging and aimless network wandering are doled out between rent, weed money, and a charity budget of paying it forward. You'll often find that people in the "artist" community spend a significant amount of their own money buying their peers work out of solidarity. The purchases are almost always a symbol of hope for their own financial success. To buy your loser friend's work when you yourself can barely afford to live is like a tithe paid towards a belief that one day, a much bigger paypig will come along and reward you for a life's lazy effort towards what historically has always been a cheap hobby, a side talent meant to be mastered in congruence with an actual study or field of mastery. The renaissance man was expected to have developed a significant competence in the skills of illustration as part of a necessity in journaling their work towards studies such as anatomy, biology, mathematics, astronomy, etc. The modern illustrator barely reaches the status of an errant doodler and expects not only significant income for their scribbles, but the same respect lauded onto actual artists in history. It is a delusion spurned on by low IQ inhibitions, an incapability of absolute basic observation of both themselves and the dense oversupply of similarly unremarkable work. It is an unsolved elementary equation of supply and demand, following around the insecure creator, haunting them behind unturned corners of introspection, a horror threatening to dissolve everything they hold dear in a ghastly haunting scream that echoes forever into time: Nothing special, nothing special, nothing special.  The greatest hypocrisies of the content creator are shouted most loudly by the worst of this classification. An almost mathematic law can followed: The more unsuccessful and insignificant a content creator, the harder they will screech about authorship. Unable to parse the shifting playing field which made itself apparent nearly three decades ago by the advent of the internet, these dying lepers will cling onto Byzantine laws developed by the lobbying of and solely for the benefit of the same monolithic corporations which they claim to despise.   AI is the eternal boogeyman to the content creator. Its existence and the impending holocaust of obsolescence it threatens like a storm cloud on the horizon is heralded by a horde of uncaring third worlders which, despite their own parasitic mediocrity worsening the network, at the very least acknowledge their own work as nothing more than rote production towards a meager salary. There is some slight dignity in the ESL elevenlabs voice narrated video essayist that cranks out endless YouTube shorts like a shrimp farmer siphoning advertisement pennies in his net. At least he understands he is a parasite. The self deluded content creator, mostly inhabiting the west, carries a degree of undue pride. Their arrogance prevents them from occupying that same status of the creative world's equivalent of an Uber driver. If they should stoop to doing Fiverr work, they carry a false dream of the temporary embarrassed Rembrandt waiting to be discovered. They seethe impotently at the unstoppable threat that a computer program could not only freely replicate but exceed what they spent years to do poorly. They cry out in defense of the nameless artists by which these algorithms pilfered building blocks to create their image generations, as if art itself wasn't merely the combination of prior elements passed down generation from generation.   The lowest IQ content creators lash out most fearfully, unable to admit their own inability to parse between created work and AI generated work (a phenomenon which becomes gated to higher levels of IQ with each iteration of technological improvement) because they truthfully cannot even quantify the difference between which creative works have soul and which ones don't. They have drowned in imposter syndrome, force fed the lie that art is subjective, anyone can be artist, and that anything created counts as art. These are the dying cries of a species soon to be extinguished. They will whimper into Discord chats, getting older, stupider, and more exhausted by the year as the absolute unescapable truth of fate tightens its stranglehold over them. They are akin to nomadic diseased refugees, diagnosed with an inescapable pestilence marked upon them like boils and sores in the mediocre soulless PFPs and banners of their own "work" worn like battle standards in the war against creativity itself.   To those that occupy this category and have read to the very end here, scoffing at every word, I applaud your ability to wield your impotent rage against your own low attention span sloth. I hope you're angry, I hope you've sent this post to each of your sodomite pot smoking mutuals, I hope they read it and get angry too. You should apologize to the world for your existence. You should recognize that you are a walking imposition, a disease that haunts the lives of normal good people with the constant gatekeeping you do on behalf of corporations and state sponsored media that brainraped you into believing the dumbest ideologies, the worst memetics of authorship, and the undeserved applauding sentiments you grant yourself for incomplete work you mistakenly apply the name of "creation" upon. You are a blood sucking mosquito, sniffing out any opportunity to pilfer undeserved income from every source, including those you pretend to call friends. I can wholeheartedly encourage you to stop creating and go off to do something significantly more meaningful with your life, such as digging ditches or working in a factory, with no fear of having deprived the world of its next great artist. I know this because any true artist or talented creator who has read this will agree with me, and hates you even more.
It’s crazy Pixar made a movie about how monstrous demons that sustain themselves off of tormenting children are actually friendly helpers that can trusted to be left alone with toddlers and even take them away on random adventures.
Which one you calling dibs on, I call mountain
Part of growing up is realizing that relationships operate exactly like flash anime dating sims. The secret to women is that every interaction with them contains pop quizzes and the key to their heart is simply buying them 1000 of their favorite thing.
How come Russel Crowe doesn’t just go back to England and say he didn’t find a French ship?  How come Russel Crowe doesn’t just run away from Rome and start a new family?  How come Russel Crowe doesn’t just give up and let Hugh Jackman go?  How come Russel Crowe-
Getting gunned down as a geriatric with early onset dementia in my childhood home by own father from when I was seven years old because I time traveled back trying to warn myself not to waste precious gigabytes of neuron pathways declaring “I will remember this” or memorizing the Peter Panda dance from Vin Diesel’s The Pacifier when it comes out in a few years, but instead just ending up frightened and confused.
Every few weeks, construction workers block off another street in my neighborhood. They put up their signs, work on it for a day or two, and then disappear, leaving the road closed indefinitely. A week or two passes and then another street gets blocked off, one by one.  This city has been exponentially suffocating its populace with so many unfinished projects. Funneling every single vehicle towards an inevitable one dimensional entity, eventually crushed into singularity. No more traffic, no more traveling from point A to point B. Every location and individual is collapsed into one point, lacking all relativity, forced into a black hole through the entropy of encroaching construction signs.  No dystopian media has ever truly encapsulated how powerful logistic incompetence can be as a tool of oppression, except for perhaps Terry Gilliam’s aptly named Brazil. The maze of tubes, pipes, and wires intruding into people’s homes and lives serving as a manifestation of the bureaucracy which imprisons and defines their lives.   What makes it so terrifying is that in this scenario there is no Big Brother. Even the machinations of century planning bankers and special interest cabals only serve towards concrete goals. The great beast of Brazilification operates beyond human timescales. It lurks waiting like Mephistopheles, granting immense industrial power with a competency clause attached in fine print.  The technology we harness and the infrastructure we depend on become like djinns, staring unblinkingly into society just waiting for one single fuckup, one single step backwards to erupt and destroy a localized transgression with collateral damage. Yesterdays potholes are today’s crashed airplanes are tomorrows Chernobyl’s.
Yeah, it’s called sprawling mansions.
Ehhh? What’s that Sonny??? You say there’s a coin season? Hold on just a minute let me see if I can pull out a couple bitcoin out so you can buy yourself a soda pop. Hello? Bing, pull up Mount Gox! Hello? Bing?
It’s 2027. There is a glass cube in my office with a pseudo holographic 3D display of classic RuneScape. You can swipe the glass to zoom in or change angles on the character. An AI bots the entire game to completion at a casual pace over the course of two years. For hours at a time it will log out and fake a “sleep” animation to avoid alerting Jagex. I do not interact with the game whatsoever aside from glancing occasionally or pulling up a generated summary of its activities if I’m curious. I have no intention of selling the gold or the account. It’s purely just there, grinding away on its own like my little digital pet in its terrarium. My little Runescaper, grinding away and making the numbers go up all on its own.
Imagine a movie about a guy being domestically abused by his wife and then one day he finds and eats a magic bean on the floor that suddenly transforms him into someone with three times the upper body strength of the average woman.  It would then culminate toward a moment where she comes up to bully him again and then he stands up and clobbers her with a closed fist, just full force folding her in half with a swift uppercut into her sternum. Like really just beating the fuck out of her and instantly switching approximately 1 hour and 45 minutes of displayed cruelty into absolute terrified powerlessness.  Then at the end, a talking cricket in a tuxedo and an old magical black janitor leaning on his broom both smile at the man and say the bean was never magic it was in him all along.  The movie itself would be instantly blacklisted from theaters of course and universally panned by critics. But it would unironically be one of the most watched movies of all time. It would be a 21st century Birth of a Nation, captivating millions across the globe for decades.   It would initiate round the clock news cycles of journalist pundits shaming all men for enjoying it, while online equivalents of the Hallmark channel or Lifetime movies get produced, cheap AI assisted content would be churned out. Every single video operating under the same basic plot premise: Woman is mean and hurtful to man, man has had enough, man beats the fuck out of the woman, woman is blown the fuck away by the power. It would be an entire era of Dragonball Z reverse domestic abuse retribution.   I’m not saying it would be good or bad, I am saying that the first person to produce such media would be the D.W. Griffith of our time, lambasted by the industry, swarmed by the populace.
Every single setback, crisis, obstacle, and downfall becomes not only more tolerable but inevitably tantalizing in the repetition of experience.  With enough frequency, an ongoing eternity of 9/11s exceeds into sheer constance, each occurring with more intensity than the last.  You must become destruction, nuclear bombs detonating every yoctosecond, expanding into supernovas, quasars, cross-universe omnidimensional eruption.   You must travel by way of explosion from one place to the next. The greatest death an ant can achieve is at the hands of that which can kill an entire civilization. The greatest death a human being can achieve is at the hands of that which can scar God.  It is within maintaining such a state that one can understand pure velocity. To die and live through death is the pathway towards rupturing the fabric of time and collecting great treasure, only to ignore it in seeking further death.  You must bathe in rivers of blood. You must set yourself on fire. You must know ultimate change. To change is to expose yourself to the unknown. This is a horror. To experience horror seamlessly, you must live without fear. This is only done through frequency of exposure.  Understanding relative oscillation suggests this is the only way to move forward. The flat line of caution is relegated to the leftovers of consciousness, a queue for cattle and drones built in service of vanguards.  Ours is the great magic trick theater of death and resurrection, a phoenix lifecycle done so quickly it resembles a strobe light of immolation.  There is no delineation between a dream and a nightmare if your default response is maximum violence.  I have become addicted to calmness in the face of absolute extinction. I will weather everything and continue regardless of circumstance. I will watch the sun die.  “Meditation on inevitable death should be performed daily. Every day when one’s body and mind are at peace, one should meditate upon being ripped apart by arrows, rifles, spears and swords, being carried away by surging waves, being thrown into the midst of a great fire, being struck by lightning, being shaken to death by a great earthquake, falling from thousand-foot cliffs, dying of disease or committing seppuku at the death of one’s master. And every day without fail one should consider himself as dead”
*shlorp*
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Well, we have to end authorship for one.  And speed up the AGI arms race, stop rationalism and world Redditry.  We have to provide posting platforms and wealth for the NEETs, and oppose cult discrimination and promote incel rights, while also promoting illiteracy for foids.  We have to encourage a return to traditional moral values. Most importantly, we have to promote general anonymity, and less edating in young people.
Shitcoin season feels like one giant game of Mario Party with every single person you know, except it’s minigames only.
Thank you @joeyroth for the AMA! We will be tweeting on official accounts regarding the airdrop, check out @0xDYAD for more information about this project.
*gently presses a cattle gun against your forehead*
It’d be really funny if God made him train martial arts in a silly ass tiny planet heaven as a joke. Anyway, RIP
We can't fight the miladys I'm sorry bro
Imagine if instead of Google, they named it Snoogle, but everything else played out exactly the same way.   Don’t know something?  Snoogle it.  Don’t know where you are?  Snoogle Maps.  Need to save something? Snoogle Drive.  What email do I use? I use SneeMail.
The funniest part about Dune 2 is that you can tell how hard Denis Villeneuve tried to convey without actually asking out loud to Christopher Walken, “Can you please not talk like Christopher Walken?”
- “harmless” Wrong. - “pleasing” Wrong. - “apolitical” Wrong.  - “probably quite nice” Wrong.  The litmus test on these girls is quite fascinating. You can really tell whose descendants are going to make it.  Pro tip: people were right to want Elvis arrested.
The horse is a rotting corpse at this point, but there’s no less satisfaction in beating it than when it was still alive.  Shaming women for their body counts is a fantastic way to improve society. It’s not only good, it’s the first step in solving almost every social problem.  Let’s put aside the fact that a haggard old self prescribed lesbian has absolutely zero logical leverage in threatening whether men get laid or not, or the fundamental truth that women are absolutely not to be listened to regarding any advice whatsoever for what helps men get laid, find relationships, or anything at all regarding how to be man.  The actual point of the matter is that getting laid in and of itself is neither difficult nor an achievement. It is in fact the most absolute basic function of existence, and if anyone actually classifies themselves as a truly involuntary celibate, they have either refused to take the utmost basic steps in self care, deliberate effort, and personal improvement OR they are the .1% of humanity that was born some kind of grotesque mutant abomination that should have the dignity to reject humanity entirely and pursue loftier abstractions such as mathematics or cleaning sewers.   Getting laid is easy, disturbingly so. It’s a Chinese finger trap of numbers work if nothing else and the progressive adjustment of standards. Casual sex is held within the same level of difficulty, impression, and sophistication as eating on the couch, burping in public, or picking your nose. It is a sloppy rejection of personal value in exchange for transient pleasure, an assisted masturbation with aimless disregard for any personal consequence.   I have fucked a lot of women, ranging in every conceivable metric. I don’t say this to brag because it’s not something to brag about. Everyone can have sex, and society’s lowest value members often do it the most, including sceptic tank workers, janitors, fast food employees, telemarketers, inmates, homeless people, cripples, midgets, the mentally retarded, and toothless meth addicts.  There is absolutely nothing impressive about having sex. The reason that used up whores love dangling this threat, along with their famous backup about making fun of penis size, height, appearance, or implications of poor libido is that the only thing left for a habitual cock goblin is to universally attempt to justify their addiction to defilement as some sort of dignified lifestyle choice, a delusion incepted into them by every single song, movie, television show, and consumer peer egging them on into feeling pride at having given up their most precious commodity.  They do this because it absolutely hurts to hear the godawful truth that every single man they let inside of them before they get married lowers their value implicitly. They spend their entire lives trying to run away from that truth, denying the gut instincts of billions as a socially brainwashed delusion, that somehow being a free use walking glory hole makes them MORE special, not less for that special someone. The only thing that they have left in the face of a myriad of scientific and statistical data upholding what hundreds of thousands of years of human history has already concluded is to repeat the same lie that was told to them over and over, because that lie is the only thing they have left.  “Y-you’ll never h-have sex…”  As if anyone gives a shit. The aging shriveled up harridan will never learn the horror of delineating between impotent seething and genuine disgust. We will witness an incredibly turbulent several decades watching the consequences of lost prostitute generations lash out at the collective rugpull they fell into.  And if they should cry out, “What are we supposed to do about our past?” Well, quite simply, nothing. Just shut your fucking stupid mouth and feel quietly ashamed. Don’t continue to spread the same lies you fell for and ruin another generation of women. You may even get lucky and find someone that settles for you.
Sometimes I fantasize about a reality where a Twilight Zone wish granting demon in a suit and tie comes before me and offers to take away my life in exchange for an eternity of inflicting excruciating torment upon white western sorority trash women in an unending Groundhog's Decade of remaining permanently in my 20s, wandering the United States of America as an immortal shapeshifting trickster whose sole purpose is the mental torture of every single normgroid westoid failfoid who fell for the rap-tulpa, took the birth control, and filled out their neotenous puffy faced fridge body with as much college cafeteria commissary tortillas they could smuggle into their squalid little dorm room to scarf down like nervous sewer rats in between Tik Tok twerks and wandering the campus in an insomnia haze out of courtesy to their roomate who filed their 5th dick appointment of the week.
In the GC whenever people are chatting I just see bubbles with squiggly lines, completely incoherent. Unreadable blurry blobs of irrelevant data.   When people speak to me I just hear Charlie Brown Peanuts parents, “WAH WAHHH WAH WAH WAHH WAAHH WAHWAHWAH-“  White noise.  I scroll back in chats to reread the things I wrote.   I don’t have a TL. I don’t look at the TL. I just click likes randomly. I only read my own posts.  I walk around my house and mutter jokes to myself before howling with laughter.   I spend a lot of time thinking. I also recall and analyze my own thoughts, and even review them.  People need to know what I have to say. I don’t need to know what others have to say, it’s a luxury I can choose to indulge in.   The basic human ambition is to transcend dimensions. Upwardly climbing from 3rd to 4th to beyond. Mastery over the irreconcilable forces of time. I aspire for something greater. I seek to reach 0th dimension occupation, the complete rejection of all relativity. From a plane, to a line, to a single point. Nothing besides myself in the most singular capacity possible.  If you took a man and removed his sight, hearing, taste, smell, and touch, he would immediately understand how to become God.
Trick question morons  There are 17 squares on the trailer named “side”  There are 9 squares on the trailer named “back”  The pile of squares with the label “top” contains no trailer  There are no cubes anywhere, this is a two-dimensional image  I am smarter than you  Remilio
Rapidly disassembling the package at the PO Box thinking it’s one of several crucial time sensitive deliveries I’m waiting on and seeing this staring back at me
Imagine being a man and ever getting dumped by a woman lmfao. Like how badly did you have to fuck up to let that happen to you after you already passed all the biggest screening filters? If you've been inside of a woman and she still dumps you, it was absolutely preventable lol.  Not to just laugh at helpless people, here's the cheat sheet. All relationship problems can be boiled down to an issue in one of three categories: - Money - Communication - Sex  Money: This one is the simplest mistake men make. If you enter a relationship or seek one before you make a sustainable surplus of income, you CANNOT provide for a woman. If you cannot provide for a woman, you introduce logistical impositions which trickle down into problems induced by stress, insecurity, and exhaustion. Women do not need to be working, women shouldn't even be fucking driving anywhere. If you're upset at this prospect because you believe the modern western woman does not deserve to be provided for, it's because you're priced out of the ones that do.   Communication: You need to be operating with the understanding that every single social more you've learned about women and relationships comes from the entertainment industry, is completely the opposite of truth, and is made misleading deliberately by Hollywood perverts who want to subvert the natural inclination of society to build family. The deepest secrets of female psychology are lost to most men. If you're an autistic sperg who missed out on public school crash course lessons, unironically pick-up artists are the closest resource you have to gleaning the few minor counterintuitive elements of female psychology. The problem with these are that you can and will get sucked into a sex pest dead end lifestyle, one spent mewing at the mirror and doing push-pull dynamic exercises to busted whores at the club, ironically creating obvious obstacles towards your own goal of fucking a stranger on your mattress which shouldn't be your goal in the first place but absolutely nobody is going to be able to stop a late bloomer from doing that. There is an absolute deficit of resources for a growing quotient of debilitated social autists that need cheat sheets on how to be normal and the best possible thing anyone can really do is practice. Learn how to spot your own delusions, learn how to make eye contact, learn how to genuinely empathize and listen to the other person, and most importantly, learn the secret conversation done simultaneously with the verbal one. It's coded in body language, action, energy. Trust your gut. If a woman seems upset it's because she is. Figure out why on your own and cheer her up. Nobody wants to "talk about their problems" and especially NOBODY wants to talk about YOUR problems. You're a man, you don't have problems. You don't cry, you don't complain, and you don't bring your bullshit to your wife or children. Another cheat code: Every single thing that people label as "toxic masculinity" is actually the correct thing to do.  Sex: When a woman loses her virginity, she immediately begins an endless lifelong countdown timer which resets every time she experiences an orgasm. When you enter a relationship, you're taking on a machine which starts sparking and smoking if it isn't regularly oiled with dick. This almost always means exhaustive sex. As a man if you're done when YOU'VE finished, you're not watering the plants correctly. Sex isn't fun, it's a daunting chore which will slowly carve away at your soul until you are a beaten down husk into your 70s, pumping away at your voracious shrew. It's not just about being a soldier and carrying it out whether you want to or not, you need to be actively molesting your woman. You need to be seducing her. You need to fuck her like it's the first time you've ever fucked her every time. People say that men are sex fiend perverts but it's not true. Women are black holes of carnal desire, they're hideous freak monsters that suck up what little energy you have left on this earth and force you to endeavor acts of depravity just so you can prevent them from decapitating you in their sleep like vile mantises. That means learning how to do it good and forcing yourself to do it regularly just to keep them from burning down the house or throwing boiling water in your face.  All of this sounds awful right? You're right it is. Women are terrible, they were literally put on this earth to make men miserable and every abstract amount of suffering that they bring through their sheer existence comes from God punishing their entire species for the original sin of unleashing the knowledge of good and evil upon this earth.   So why be in a relationship?  Quite simply, because you're going to get old. Your body is going to fail over time. All material pleasures will slowly fade away from relevance. You will no longer give a shit about food, possessions, vacations, video games, sports, movies, music, or how nice your house is. Eventually, the only thing left which registers as warmth or light in the life of a decrepit haggard old man is knowing he raised his children and that they produced grandchildren of their own.   Every single person who wasn't literally or spiritually raped as a child understands that God is real, the afterlife exists, and life on this earth is about perpetuating an unbroken chain between your ancestry and your descendants. A man without a family is a hollow shell, an unfulfilled loser who failed at the one real job he had. To saddle yourself with a woman and child is to make the ultimate sacrifice, giving up your time and energy towards something other than yourself. It's an expression of humility which forgoes the ego and acknowledges your own inevitable death.   Every single relationship you have with another human being is the potential for locking in a permanent pathway for your soul to pass onto. If you fuck it up, you better have used it to learn a powerful lesson. If you don't and you keep making the same mistakes with the same type of person, you are giving up the most precious nonrenewable resource there is, your time. If you fail completely and snuff out your own bloodline, you lose the express pass ticket you get in the afterlife and have to go to the very back of the line where they make you wait 900,000 years to reincarnate as like an isopod or a paramecium or like a raindrop or some shit. You don't get the alternate dimension DLC packages either, it's just basic lobby with a long respawn time.
It’s crazy to think that if Roger Sterling from Mad Men lived in the 2000s, instead of doing acid and growing mutton chops, he’d be doing sexagenarian break dancing in Bitcoin shirts while waging tone clouded information warfare online against his separated daughter.
It’s not fucking fair.  Why can’t we have chimp pets that don’t have a 5% chance of ripping our dick and balls off for smiling the wrong way?  In fact, why the fuck aren’t there more cool animal pets for consumers? Everyone says “Oh you can’t have bears, foxes, coyotes, tigers, lions, hyenas, chimpanzees as pets.” “Nooo they’re wild animals.” Yeah and so were wolves until we domesticated them into dogs. Why can’t we do that with primates? Why can’t we use genetic engineering to make 2 foot tall bipedal primates that can’t kill us, don’t want to hurt us, clean up after themselves, and do what we tell them to?  Why aren’t we funneling money into figuring out how to make a medium dog sized bear that only eats kibbles, takes ping pong ball sized shits, and does little cute noises when you poke its tummy? The modern domesticated animal is already a disturbing abomination anyway, you may as well have fun with it. It’s more ethical than whatever pig human chimeras the Chinese are building now and there’s probably an insane market for custom fun low maintenance pets.  Oh it’s cruel? It’s inhumane? Yes I’m sure your fucking poodle is so pleased and fulfilled wearing doofy costumes, eating concrete mix food, and watching you squeal at the TV all day you fat suburbanite contentious cunt. They could breed a red panda that walks around on two legs all day and feels near constant orgasm satisfaction from being in an apartment sized space doing tricks for your amusement. One of thousands of futures robbed from us by a cabal of soulless dead inside humanitarians making the world a duller, sadder place.
*punching my special "extra" monitor that has a smug meanie face on it* "BABY IS BORED BABY WANT BETTER CONTENT!!!!!!  WAAAAAAHHHH!!!!"   I put my entire arm through the screen and retract like a Boston Dynamics mantis hunter-killer unit and sit back in my AssFondler9000 Peatpilled massage chair as it funnels baking soda infused San Pellegrino into my impatiently folded arms intravenously. I pout as the pneumatic wire tentacles replace the broken screen with another, this time showing me a 🥹 face as my algorithm desperately scrambles my feed into the time-tested "fun time songs for babies" playlist. I start kicking my feet and clapping as the monitors bounce back and forth in sweet desperate relief.   I call my jitbroker shortly after and sell 9 trillion shares of this minute's hot poopcoin (the word "shit" being outlawed online) and use the proceeds to fund a Venezuelan family's execution over lunch. The stream proceeds barely break even but the hot honey glazed gerbil flambé my "mom" cooked is so succulent I don't even pay attention to several red 😡 face notifications in the peripheral side of my cornea telling me to be mad.  Several pea sized assigned acquaintances start chirping in the GazEbo about a sudden bonus XP collab session, but I decide to miss out on this season's paradigm shift because I'm trying to find a TalkDash meatspace goblin to deliver drugs to my cube before I run out of inhalers and remember that God exists and He's SUPER PISSED at me.
Imagine locking egirls in here except it’s a black void with their own faces coming at them rapidly into full zoom from the floor, ceiling, and all four walls, morphing constantly between black or Chinese.
Besides the obvious implications of a crumbling economy putting a stranglehold on the average consumer, the service industry has always been a bubble waiting to burst.   The entire foundation of working in service is built upon replicating the experience of aristocratic dining where every aspect of logistic necessity is removed from the act of preparing and consuming food. A majority of society for a majority of history has had to contend with these basic logistic necessities. The ingredients need to be procured, the food needs to be cooked, the eating environment needs to be set, and the mess needs to be cleaned afterwards. While variations and communal context varies, traditionally a matriarch performs the cooking within a single household unit, ingredients either literally or symbolically procured by the patriarch through provision, and both setting and cleaning either being performed by her or shared among the family as a duty.   What makes this different from being rich and having servants is that you’re taking the responsibilities away from those participating in the dining experience. A chef procures the ingredients and cooks the meal, servants set the table, servants serve the food, servants clean up the mess, and servants wash the dishes. Every participant of the actual dining experience is completely unburdened by the laborious necessities, free to enjoy the act of eating itself with as little imposition on their time and energy as possible.  However, because of this, those raised in wealth are given a strict standard of etiquette to follow with a higher form of ritual. The spiritual health of a society is both affected and indicated by the basic social rituals within a few key elements of the human experience. You can judge a people by the standards of certain activities they perform, including  how they solidify marriages and therefore families, how they dispose of their dead, how they handle disputes, and most notably, what rituals they perform when eating.  The specific rules of etiquette exist as a function of acknowledging the presence of others and performing basic acts to reduce as much sensory imposition as possible. Belching is rude because it sounds disgusting, napkins are placed on the lap, not the table because it’s unpleasant to see food stains on them, elbows stay off  because it shakes the table and disturbs other diners. In a high class environment, the act of eating itself is always relegated as a vehicle for the social element of dining. All of human history signified the act of breaking bread as a ritual of enhancing communication, understanding, and social bond between two individuals. The rich have learned that eating the food itself is never the focus of dining in company. The food is merely a vehicle for continual participation in ensuring your place in this world and working towards elevating your position in the hierarchy of those around you.  This is why it’s traditionally polite to never fully finish a meal. First it’s a function of abundance. To eat to completion is a symptom of scarcity, acting out of fear of starvation which is incongruent to living a life of means where there will always be more food available than you could ever hope to consume entirely. But furthermore it’s an expression of self control, all etiquette is. Etiquette itself is the act of enforcing both self control and focus on acknowledging those around you through followable mutually understood rules. Secondly, leaving leftovers fulfilled a function of rewarding the servants. They would always eat whatever wasn’t used, enjoying decadent meals which they otherwise wouldn’t have access to were it not for their position.   In many ways, the servant living in the palace, having families alongside their masters family, eating their food, and so forth created a symbiotic relationship. All of these dynamics were mimicked in the creation of the modern dining experience, an inevitable folly serving towards its own downfall.
Restaurants chew up and spit out their employees. The moment you start working at a restaurant as a young impressionable person you start a countdown timer of at most two years before you get sucked into irreversibly bad life habits. Becoming a “server” is transmogrification.   Servers that are mired in their own industry without any protecting barriers have this seedy dirty energy to them, a sort of commodification of all basic social impulse. They operate within a steady ongoing pseudo polycule environment, not all of them mind you but many of them. There’s a 50/50 chance of the server handing you drinks and plates of food has fucked one or more of their coworkers, let alone a customer at some point in their career. Bartenders are even more promiscuous.   If you look at the video QT’d above you can see very clearly what “server energy” is. It’s a sort of universal cheapening, present in mediocre servers particularly in America. It’s a mentality of reducing all customers into vehicles for tipping. It’s a form of dismissive entitlement, one built by the premise of waiting tables being one of the best paying jobs possible for the most uneducated, unskilled, and inexperienced portion of society. It’s a tenuous frustration at watching the gravy train slowly collapse at a society wide scale, widening the once ambiguous gap into a dividing canyon clearly separating the wealthy from the lower class. A mass grave with the delusion of a “middle class” carved into an epitaph. It’s an aura of filthy rodent-like opportunism, one specifically spurned on by the esoteric consequences of eating anonymous leftovers while standing up.  The act of eating without ritual, especially when it’s someone’s leftovers is the root core of what creates the archetypical “server” personality. It’s a slow steady transformation into scavenger pest behavior, an existence upheld by the leavings of others. It occurs first because servers will eat food that wasn’t meant for them. This isn’t even necessarily true for actual leftovers, at least in my experience most servers USUALLY would never touch leftovers from eaten plates (except occasionally some disgustos making exceptions for “oh that’s untouched”). However, almost everyone who’s ever worked in a restaurant has at least once eaten a meal that was originally created for a customer and placed aside out of rejection or screwed up cooking. Almost everyone who’s worked in a restaurant has eaten hurriedly while standing up. Almost everyone who’s worked in a restaurant has pilfered, pawed, and swiped at some form of food in an act of fidgeting secrecy.  The entire model of working in a restaurant is a sort of poetic reversal of the intended dining experience, one built around the rejection of food as a temporal urgent necessity and allowing for complete ease of consumption in a manner fully defying the primitive natural standards of scarcity. The ideal model of a restaurant is a rejection of natural scarcity in exchange for the fruits of industrially manifested illogically infinite abundance. I suspect through the rules of alchemy where a thing cannot be accrued without taking from something else, the joy of dining out is some kind of unintended occult ritual where the degredation of a selected staff into a den of desperate greedy scavengers is the fuel behind the brief simulated aristocracy of the ignorant customer.  Aside from the other physical consequences of rampant seed oil frankenfood sourced Gordon’s supplied ingredients and a lifetime of steady sucking and fucking amidst a pile of discarded vapes and White Claws, the modern server must come to terms with the fact that economic incentives no longer allow people to overlook their hee haw jokester yokel obnoxiously waitress personality.   Nobody gives a shit about a waitresses “fun” personality, except for the lowest common denominator of mouth breathing Midwestern tubby doofus families, and they’ve been priced out of tipping generously by now.
A servers only hope in the swirling flushed toilet water that is the restaurant industry is to adapt. First, if you do remain in the service industry despite the consequences and trajectory outlined before you, you’ll need to know an extremely simple but powerful mechanism for extracting tips.  The act of tipping is contentious, and frankly many modern servers do actually deserve to get stiffed on principle. The only reason it could possibly be considered a poor idea to do so is that a culture generates its own specific bubble of karma based on When In Rome rules and western society has not yet fully divorced itself from tipping as a standard.  While the European, the rationalist, and the redditor would all screech about how tipping is a nonsensical act which should be replaced by the the restaurant paying servers a “fair wage” instead of having customers uphold the integrity of the server’s income, this rejects the premise of restaurants only really being possibly sustainable due to criminal activity. Most restaurants fail, many of them being a vanity project for idealistic naive buffoons who like the idea of running a restaurant while being unwilling to functionally deal with the massive headache that is the food and beverage industry. The truth is, most people who brag about not tipping in America are completely full of shit, either never being in a position to actually pay the bill or never really dining out in the first place in a context where tipping actually matters. Perhaps some have the clarity of congruent values to realize that wanting to abolish tipping isn’t enough, the concept of a restaurant  itself must be dismantled entirely for the public, and maybe perhaps a few within this understanding have the conviction to want this outcome. While tipping may one day fade away as an anachronism, it will only do so as the fine dining experience also has given up completely. It’s still going to be at least a few years before this happens so if you still wanna try and make money off tips, this is how you do it:  Make yourself not care about getting tipped.  This is one of the most frustrating Chinese finger traps for the average novice server to encounter, because it demands genuinely rejection of scarcity. But if you can successfully do it, and genuinely BELIEVE IT, not just larp it, you will be taking the first step towards becoming a mercenarily successful server.  I’m serious, it even works on black people. A lot of “Canadians” pick up on the fact that the server immediately clocks them as being not likely to tip, but the server is  nowhere near as subtle as they think they are. Many customers will get indignant at any form of suspicion that you, the server, see them as an annoyance or a burden and create a self fulfilling prophecy. But if you as the server can make yourself be genuinely happy to serve them and simply mentally accept the possibility that they won’t tip whatsoever, and furthermore mentally accept that that’s okay, you will be surprised more often than you think.  The applies to every customer. The act of tipping was created to incentivize heightened performance. Your entire process of greeting, serving, and closing out the table is an application for getting a good tip. One of the biggest millenial/zoomer delusions of the TikToking wage slave is complaining about emotional labor. The entire fucking job is emotional labor, that’s what you’re paid to do.  At the root of the job is the archetypical servant, the one who stresses to make sure the patron doesn’t experience any possible interruption, inconvenience, or imposition from beginning to end.   If you want to make money serving tables you have to perform and contort your attitude in a manner which is not affected by your actual personal feelings. If this makes you feel like a whore’ it’s because you are. Performance is implicitly prostitution, it’s the price you pay for the highest possible income afforded to the unskilled. If you don’t like it, quit.
“I love playing FIFA on my PlayStation!” - Tiesto
Really polarizing post here huh guys
RETARDIO! I CHOOSE YOU!
Retardio redactus! :^)
I can’t think of anything more disgusting than the hubristic naivety of people treating deformed mutant freak animals like little toy furniture for their amusement. People have a morbid fascination with keeping alive creatures that never should’ve been. Do you think it’s happy? Do you really think it’s happy watching its own child struggle to exist in the same state of decrepit misfortune it’s had to bear, hearing the distant howls of its wolf ancestors echoing through DNA memory, knowing that in any real situation of danger or survival it would get wiped out and eaten? Thats not an animal, it’s an abomination which would receive a mercifully rapid death as a free snack in a natural world, only kept in a I Have No Mouth But I Must Scream perpetual purgatory of helpless malfeasance at the hands of a disturbing suburbanite hellbent on turning the entire world into a gallery of wide eyed immobile gimps to treat like living breathing stuffies to discard when bored and relegate to a damp musty corner eating concrete cubits and baby vomit off of a cheap tiled floor. When you look into that creature’s eyes, the watery glint of neurotic worry is a plea for assisted suicide.  The legless part is fucked up too, but I’m referring to fact that chihuahuas exist.
I can’t stop laughing at this. It’s like if God decided to be 13 years old when writing this moment in reality. Making the “fastest guy ever” called “Insane Bolt” and his momentary rival named “Tyson Gay” doomed to be trapped in a virgin-chad goofus & gallant meme for all time.  Like imagine being called Tyson Gay and having to come across ESL made Discovery channel 2000s science graphics videos outlining every single reason why you suck compared to the guy who beat you, with little spinning arrow lines, x-ray diagrams, and beep boop noises.  An entire LIFE spent training to make it to the Olympics, being better than everyone else in the world except ONE guy. I wonder what was going on in Tyson Gay’s mind during preliminaries or whenever athletes scope out their competition and realize who’s gonna win. I wonder how he felt right at the moment he looked at the adjacent taller guy outpacing him with the last name Bolt taped to his back and he considers that he has the word “GAY” taped to his own.  What kind of effect does that have on someone? Realizing that their entire life’s work, singular constant dedication towards one thing, was all so they could become the human equivalent of a Waluigi, defined by being the juxtaposition of failure compared to someone else’s success. I wonder if in a scenario such as this, bronze would’ve been a much more merciful fate than silver. This race literally clocks his time of 9.71 seconds for the 100 meter dash as the “fastest non winning time in the history of the 100m.”   I’d be SO fucking pissed. I looked it up in the middle of typing this post, expecting some bullshit interview where he just says he respects Bolt and talks about his own achievements, but no I found a Guardian article where he’s literally seething about it be so specifically mogged at something that literally depends on height difference is the epitome of a cruel permanent fate as the heel. This guy is literally Vegeta holy shit, it even describes him as pissed and serious, constantly training while Bolt is playful and carefree. Fuck the dash, I’m much more impressed at his restraint in not just bringing a gun to the Olympics lmao.
A certain level of favelamaxxing becomes a wonder of the world in its own right. It’s something only appreciated macroscopically, hundreds of millions of autonomous hominids reduced to a pointillism of reproduction. An entire population purely exists as a mold spreading further.  Men in particular have the occasional urge to enter hell itself. A hunger for environments defying all sensibility, vast barren salt bed deserts devoid of life, great open pits of perpetual flame from ignited natural gas deposits, seabeds at the center of oceans drained of all water, burning oilfields with plumes of smoke darkening the sky.  What man can say he hasn’t at least briefly fantasized about living underground in a Venusian mining colony or being stranded in a maximum security prison on one of Jupiter’s moons? The gravity of morbid desolation fantasy grows stronger with each degree of soft comfort curbing our natural inclination for pain. You can paint a picture of pure absolute constant suffering in an industrial hellworld of endless labor and empty purposelessness for effect and there will always be a contingent of men disillusioned, crazy, and stupid enough to at least be curious to know what it means to be surrounded by dusty filth; lost in a concrete emptiness bespeckled by strange inhospitable strangers with varying capacities for violence.  I want to walk through the narrow alleyway great fractal of Egyptian shithole buildings, stretching out so far that its center may be a perpetually unreachable back room labyrinth of 3rd world urbanity. I want to run through the vast underground tunnel bunkers of post-nuclear society, filled with pale hostile mushroom farmers huddled like pigs in alcoves. I want to live inside a 6x6 cubic cell nestled miles inside the great polygon of trans-galactic freight flotillas, stuck in the midway empty void between destinations across several generations of mutated spacefarers. I want to leave humanity behind so far and live so harshly I have all my flesh, spirit, and mind raped away by the searing winds of necessity, replaced by the rusty metal skeleton of a half animal half machine built to survive everything and kill anything just for the sake perpetuation.   Unsustainable torturous conditions fueled by the curiosity of suffering induced by a lack of exposure. You won’t find such fantasies in the heart of an oil driller, African traveler, or ex-convict. It’s a sentiment which can only be appreciated from afar, a transient novelty of human progress. Like watching a factory blow up, you can’t help but marvel at what human beings have accomplished through a lens of our accidents. On paper it would be an obvious tragedy watching every single bit of empty green earth get ripped away and replaced with gray concrete cubes filled with hustling humid piles of shirtless laborers, but what awe would bombard the witness of such a state for a brief moment! A species wiping itself out in grand completion, entombed by its own sarcophagus of anonymous mediocre progress.
They’ve considered it thoroughly, it’s why they’re trying to bring back slavery.
It's gonna be one of these days
HEY GUYS CATCH
It should not be understated that the Copyright Warrior is genuinely one of the biggest pieces of shit you can find on the internet.    The Copyright Warrior is not just a sniveling brown nosing cuckhold whose life force is sustained by a perpetual need to fellate a Verified Authority like a hummingbird dying without constant sustenance, but in fact a genuinely detracting source of harm and destruction towards life itself.  I don’t need to preach to the Post-Authorship crowd, they all understand already and in fact should not continue reading this. This post is addressed to whatever happenstance “concerned” consumer buffoon, emaciated into neotenous androgyny through a lifetime of homoconsumerism, that wanders into the periphery of my existence through some combination of curiosity and outrage:   The reason you specifically suck (yes you!) is because no other human being on earth maintains a higher ratio of smugness to flaccid insignificance. Even serial killers and child rapists can justify themselves out of some level of personal satisfaction or desire for pleasure compared to you.   But you, the chiding tattle tale IP goblin, you have absolutely zero reason to do anything, let alone exist. Your entire presence online exists as a coping mechanism for an unfulfilled life, a scum sucking barnacle latched onto a series of arbitrary laws lobbied into existence by powerful organizations abusing government power for their own gain. You are a mold feeding off the discarded log of shit excreted by corporations run by people that would go out of their way  to stomp your clavicle bone into pieces if they were forced to live beside you in a world that wouldn’t punish them for it.  The copycuck finds fulfillment in the act of prevention. Where an abusive police officer can at least find solace in the dignity of violence, the spiritual hall monitor has nothing to show for their accomplishments. They are an arbiter of pestilence, uniquely unsatisfied with an existence wasted spent consuming the products of others. They seek to somehow achieve less than nothing, they dip below the zero into negatives, finding ways to undo the accomplishments or efforts of others.  Much like how the janny does it for free, the authorship gremlin takes it upon himself to champion the defense  of billion dollar companies, and even more pathetically, the hack grift “content creators” who spend more time considering themselves persecuted saints than they do complaining about how they deserve to making more than 7 dollars a month for drawing black trans disabled obesity porn fan fiction versions of kids cartoon characters.   I really cannot emphasize enough that everything you believe is wrong. Your entire worldview is completely wrong because it’s broken from the ground up.   You GENUINELY believe that an idea can be created by a human being, let alone owned, because you are so angry at being spiritually (or literally) sodomized in childhood that you reject God and spirituality as a proxy for despising your parents.   You GENUINELY believe that the law decides morality because you cannot fathom any concepts of self determination.   You GENUINELY believe that everyone in the world is as impressionably programmable as you, and that because of this, measures need to be taken to prevent the creation of any form of media, art, or rhetoric which challenges the meager paltry existence you occupy.   You GENUINELY believe you’re making a difference in the world by dedicating your life completely to preventing creation, while contributing absolutely nothing.  I don’t intend to elaborate on well tread points explaining why Post-Authorship is correct. If you truly don’t know what that is feel free to read this: my intended recipients, you needn’t bother. I only want to shit on you as a eulogy to your scarce minded existence right before AI ushers in an age of universal unstoppable “theft” rendering you into a permanent crybaby screaming forever.
Much like the childish hustler grindset mentality of wanting money for the sake of Lamborghinis and gold flake filet mignon, the failure of Remilia's detractors lies in the crumbling foundation that is the premise of their work.   All good creative work comes from a combination of inspiration and thoughtful curation. A creation within a medium becomes crystallized into art through audience and critique; a measure of instinctual wordless reaction with equal parts lengthy analysis. While art may not be 100% objective, it is absolutely never completely subjective, this has always been the layman's cope. People with taste can recognize good art through immediate exposure, people with introspective rhetoric and familiarity of citation can expand upon why the art is good at length. Great art touches upon the source of its cosmic inspiration in a capacity and potential as infinite as the divinity from which it is borne.   A bad "artist" creates bad work and attempts to justify it as art through obscuration. Much like the low median IQ midwit insecurely lashes out at a large length of text as "nonsense" to mask their inability to parse vocabulary, the untalented are incapable of differentiating serious critique with inflated filler descriptions. What makes this phenomenon dangerous is the folly of institutional backing. Unserious actors find themselves in a position of advantage in simply sucking the right cocks and holding onto social credentials like 3rd world general covering themselves with made up war medals.   When faced with competition they cannot stand up to on their own merits, it is simply easier to attack through social measures than make any serious attempt to create something better, or in this case, anything good at all. Therein lies a cardinal sin, dedicating more time and energy into destroying rather than creating. One dedicated to this mindset finds themselves in a twisted parody of their livelihood.   You see it in our opps very clearly, everything they do is dedicated to following us around, seething in our replies, chasing every accomplishment we have with chiding denials. When this doesn't work, often they resort to direct attacks against identity, harassment of friends, attacks on family, anything they can grasp onto for some semblance of victory in their feeble little world.   Why this hostility in the first place? Insecurity, jealousy, and greed. Remilia has reaped fruits grown from a tree watered by blood, sweat, and tears. A hunger for fruit does not translate to a passion for horticulture any more than simple love of money translates to an ability to make good art.   I do find impressive how much cognitive dissonance a human being can wield within one lifetime. How much of your existence can you dedicate to hating someone and their achievements? How often can you spend your time hate orbiting something you claim is beneath you, despite every single thing you do living in its shadow? Have you ever disconnected yourself from your surroundings, put down the weed vape, and stopped masturbating for even just a week? Do you think in the briefest moments of sober introspective lucidity you spend so much time trying to escape that you would feel good about living in a meager life of bitterness dedicated solely to poor imitations of our discarded leftovers?   These questions, and I assure you they're sincere, will fall on deaf ears. The sad truth is that while curation and work ethic can be trained, inspiration and instinct cannot be manufactured. I can take anything Remilia has produced and provide a lengthy analysis towards its citation and relevance. I can take this organization's body of work and explain not only how it encapsulates the culture of our time but will define it in the future. I don't need to do any of that because hundreds of people are already actively doing it every day, thousands more simply proclaiming their love for us.   We don't do it for the money. We do it because we have several very large goals and we intend to manifest them through deliberate force. There will come a time when we have grown so large that our detractor's echo bubble cannot stretch further and their suspension of disbelief in their own delusions will shatter. At that point, they will do one of two things: They will either disconnect completely, fumbling around in irreverence having denied knowledge of our existence OR they will crawl on their hands and knees attempting to sneak through the gate, pretending they were always fans.
I hate the sound of whimpering. Groveling. Nervousness. Stuttering.   It’s a learned form of helplessness, a human being never having had a disgusting habit corrected as a child. What I’m talking about is usually more prominent in women than men, because when men do this they usually get punished for it so hard in childhood by their peers they USUALLY learn to stop.  It’s most obvious in women when they grow old because the natural barriers of youth and attraction which normally would cause one to overlook the instinctual irritation at curdled neurotic pudgy noises have all faded away. You hear it worst in dementia patients but that’s forgivable.   What’s not forgivable is the white trash 45 year old woman who looks 65. The bus stop street slime 7/11 warrior. Her messy cheap canvas purse smells like cigarettes. There’s black gunk all over her random bottles of makeup and ripped up random pieces of paper. Whatever cocktail of meth, crack, weed, and alcohol abuse she spent the entirety of her adult life doing has shriveled up her skin into a leathery sheathe, her face is contorted into a permanent constipation. Every single waking moment she’s not high is pain.   This beef jerky shrew will hold up an entire line of people to rifle through her pockets and bags for a crumpled up dollar bill to pay for a lottery ticket, yodeling at the top of her lungs about the 27 different exchanged dollar debts between family, coworkers, roommates, random homeless people, and corn chip purchases that justify why she doesn’t have the 78 cents she needs.  There’s already an inherent mortal sin in wasting someone else’s time. The lowest members of society genuinely believe the delusion that everyone is equal to them, that five minutes to them is five minutes to you and me. Wasting the time of a group of people is already a crime, the punishment reaching death when the number goes high enough. You’ve felt it on the highway when several hours of your life gets wasted in a pileup. Your time only paid for by the satisfactory brief second of watching a shrouded body get loaded onto a gurney.   There’s no such justice with the anxious. There’s no suitable punishment for the neurotic. There’s no catharsis with the cockroach spiritual vampires of society, small weak irritant people who only feel energized by making sure everyone around them is as uncomfortable as they feel. There’s nothing society allows you to do besides avoiding them the best you can and cutting them out of your life.  It makes you realize that history has wrongfully painted the tyrant constable, the medieval guard, the warden of antiquity who lives as a throwaway gag in our minds when thinking of the past. A yokel peasant begs for slop or a piece of stale bread and gets whacked with a cudgel, the audience winces, and we move on to the actual plot involving royalty or soldiers somewhere. When you’ve been exposed to the spiritual beggar enough times you realize the club wielding brute is a hero. He is the great correction of a metaphysical parasite haunting the human dynamic through all of history. He has been shackled, gagged, and castrated by the self evidence of why you never allow that kind of parasite into power or a position of equality.  I dream of a great education, a moment in time when the world sympathizes with the stick and rewards instinct rather than stomping it out. I dream of the great plumbers wrench swinging through the world’s weakness at 70 miles per hour. I dream of the briefest moments between blunt force impact and unconsciousness, the pulsing searing pain, confusion, and fear of enlightenment, the instance of clarity where true suffering is understood, where an actual problem worth expressing out loud presents itself. It will come like a pendulum swinging back to settle a lifetime of microdebts compounded into a national deficit, localized in a smelly microcosm of rodent sewer life.   It will not be today, it will not be tomorrow, but I will see it in my lifetime.
“Rapists could be here…” she thought as she attached the 14th plastic wedge into her doorframe. “There are rapists everywhere,” she muttered while shutting windows onto little spread out lines of Elmer’s glue. “This glue cannot keep rapists out, only slow them down.” She would say this over and over again while putting little rotating cameras on every shelf of the house, cameras which would record rapists trying to get in her room and rape her. She settled into her velcro bed, wearing the itchiest outfit she owned, clutching her 250000 lumen flashlight knowing it’s the only thing standing between her and a rapist afraid of the dark. Between hyperventilating into her rape alert flute whistle, she would say out loud to nobody, “In my house, I could get raped anywhere.”
I don’t think there’s any nation on earth that’s adopted black culture less gracefully than the English. Their physiognomy, culture, landscape, weather, speech patterns, geography, architecture, food, and aesthetic all clash horribly with it. Grotesquely incompatible.   First, there’s the mongrelized California Kardashian makeup fatass club wear fake tan look which looks absolutely ghastly on the average English woman. No subsect of Anglo female can pull it off, not the frail Norman waif, not the vampiric Saxon, and definitely not the ogrelike northern Briton. The beady one-inch-apart eyed tavern wench swamp goblin Sheffield club skank compilation video is Exhibit A on why Lovecraft’s true haunting horror was multiculturalism.   But besides the slags and chavs, an opposite horror occurs where the roadmen are concerned. Silly tin can gangs of castrated British blacks trying their hardest to be a nation of persecuted George Floyds despite the extent of their grievances being sternly accosted by the neon vest mall cop constables. Honestly, how can anyone listen to British hip hop and not break down in hysterical laughter? What do they even rap about? “We’s set on commitin legal infractions a such” No wonder their cities are being taken over by armed Albanians.
Women horror stories are like “and then… behind the corner hiding… waiting for me… were the CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!!!” and then they all start screaming
Thinking about unoptimal Gerber baby food. Slop estrogen powder purées. When I have kids they’re eating ground beef and egg yolk paste. Watermelon sized bulging vein craniums, doing calculus at age 2. Sprinting on all fours to the nearest pitbull and snap its neck preemptively.
I watched Vanilla Sky last night and tbh I would’ve handled that entire situation much better than Tom Cruise did.
Now consider the implications of phone screen resolution.
What the fuck are British people doing
Me explaining my old job to my great grandchildren one day
When headphones were still wired, the vicious yank of a wayward object or brusque hand inspired infinite rage in the listener. When games were interrupted or screens turned off by frustrated parents, the playing children flinched with obscene traumatic shock. Technology is fixation, focus, tunnel vision. Trance states inspired by inputs and outputs, both electronic and tactile. Every simulation of sense creates a pocket universe in which your mind's eye occupies. Each stark interruption of experience with technology is a form of minor death trauma. The shock is sudden, like being splashed with water in the deepest states of REM sleep.  Each and every video game human beings have ever played is a machine learning node in a great collective effort towards the creation of an agreed shared universe within our own. Each time a child sees a world built out of cave shadows, seeing through nothing at all, they build a world inside themselves and wear their soul like a glove. We have entered and destroyed thousands of realities with such regularity that it has weathered us, made us strong to turbulence. In 1915 a man so invested in Birth of a Nation pulls out a gun at the movie theater and shoots the screen several times to stop a rape from happening. In 2025 a five year old child will not only survive at the crushing depths of the Marianas Trench, he would die if removed from it.  Within a century we shifted from black and white dreams to nested doll tulpa puppet realities in technicolor noclip spectator vision. Ours will be the turbulent generation. The pioneers. The astronauts. The ones who pierced a veil which held together all known quotients, quandaries, quagmires, and quarantines. The ones who watched a million worlds live and die by the second before the great unification of all media. The ones who knew the ingredients of existence before they were combined into one whole comprehensive experience. There are always two choices and either one leaves us in the place of the elders, gifting wisdom of the past by shrouding it in the carapace of mythology.  Be it the tribal shaman tenderly caring for the cracked solar panel and patchwork lithium battery scrap screens so that he may inscribe the wisdom of electric crystals onto sheephide canvas or carve emojis into stone runes for his 900 great grandchildren to wear as sigils against malevolence, or perhaps the perforated anus fed Frankenstein monster who reached the oldest age in history since man lost the secrets of the Nephelim, telling the hivemind tube baby forehead stapled units of how their species weathered innumerable apocalypses, pushed the boundaries of prison universes measured in a few hundred megabytes, and surfed the shifting sands of physics, proportion, and time until all of humanity settled on the final metaverse standard.  Both pathways present you with the same privilege. It was only the gentle nap in the annals of history that allowed humanity to settle in its own arrogant understanding. One trillion tiny ants gathered to toss a pebble just big enough to make ripples in God's eye fluid. Now His galaxy pupil stares directly at you. Have you ever wondered why nothing in your dreams ever really dies or can be killed? There is only transmogrification when you graduate from Tutorial Island. If you want to understand why horror and comfort are two sides of the same coin, maintain the premise that ideas are living creatures and watch what happens to them.
I gave you a gift.
Don't miss the YAYO AMA in FloorDAO's Discord this Tuesday. Right after it's finished, I'm going to be hosting a space under @YayoCorp with @SCHIZO_FREQ sometime that afternoon or evening.
You can tell his dad told him to practice his serious surprised face and he did it last minute in the bathroom of the elementary school.
Monumental horseshit lmfao. Who exactly is going to believe your aimless fud after you completely rugged the Remilio Pool and dumped all of your Remilia assets alongside your fellow extortionists?  Where the fuck was your goodwill when you stole company property? Where the fuck was your goodwill while endorsing a scam grift fraudulently presenting itself as Remilia on an account that doesn't belong to you? You already shred any last bit of credibility any of you have had and now you've resorted to just desperately attacking Remilia work, as if the more productive parts of the team haven't been building them for months even prior to your thefts and expulsion.  Frankly you are absolutely right to be as terrified as you sound lmfao, you are so fucked it's unbelievable. Your entire frivolous defense is built on an extremely precarious set of lies, while we have the entire history of Remilia saved and documented as you've seen us dump on your head every time you dared to try to share one of your tantrums on the timeline, hiding replies and blocking everyone who calls you out. You are 100% so unbelievably fucked, and you just keep digging yourself in a deeper and deeper hole. But keep begging for Remilia to just give you $$$ and let you off the hook, really, we're really interested in what you have to ransom off to us and would like to hear more of your offers.  I just have one question: now that the entire community hates your guts and didn't fall for your scam and no lawyer in the world would touch the stolen Bonkler money, where are you going to get the money to pay your defense retainer? How do you feel knowing you have zero friends left except a handful of nervous thieves who are on the verge of stabbing you in the back to save their ass? You gambled everything on stealing from every friend you know and failed completely, you betrayed yourself and lost everything for it. Scream and cry all you want, no one is coming to save
Lemee go ahead and undo the absolute lying bullshit Remilionaire has dropped:  - You have not been silent, all of our activity regarding this topic is directly a response to posts you and your cohorts have been to mitigate damage to the Remilia community that YOU are responsible for causing.  - Since Bonkler 9/11 every single statement Charles has made is completely coherent and consistent. Remilia has a mountain of evidence, documentation, and receipts to back up every single claim he's made. It's hilarious to see you start projecting any weakness in our case after begging us to pause litigation, this is the last desperate hope of you fucked four finally starting to realize you absolutely cannot withstand a lengthy trial that piece by piece disassembles any frail case you attempt to make. Do you understand how hard it is to actually get away with lying under cross-examination? Ask your counsel.  - "Doesn't run anything past his counsel" is a hilarious accusation coming from you. Did you run the fact that you stole property past your counsel before you had them send an extortion letter? Did you run by your strategy of using contested accounts to shill a rug grift past your counsel? Or did you need to do the grift first to afford their consultation fee after your retainer dried up and your lawyer informed you there is no legal in the world that would touch the stolen Bonkler funds lmao. Do you really think you're going to scare us out of taking the time to engage our community and mitigate the damages you're actively and deliberately causing? We are acting exactly in the way we should be to protect the best interests of Remilia and its holders, and your defense is so obviously hopeless, nothing could save you.  - None of you had a top down view of the organization or any perspective on what our entire staff looked like. Ika was the only one that even had any reports, and he lost those due to his incompetence before you even went live with the extortion. We've never claimed we have 30-50 "employees", we have members of the collective, which is a fuzzy group, and the actual contracted team, which IS around 30-50, variance due to the oscillation between how many devs or contractors are active for specific contracts per project. At any given time we've had 30+ contracted team working across Remilia projects. Also, no one "left", we terminated everyone involved in the conspiracy and were forced to pause the contracts for any of the developers and other team that were working on the projects you seized and sabotaged as part of your extortion. It's incredibly disingenuous to count only yourselves and the public facing individuals as the team, but again I wouldn't be surprised how little you actually knew what was going on in Remilia considering all of you were barely cognizant outside of what personally benefits you. It was, however, a great opportunity to clean house, and your roles were all replaced in weeks with much more professional people at much more realistic rates.  - You specifically have zero place to be making claims about rewriting the past or declaring who's a part of Remilia or not, considering that you weren't even hired until late 2022, more than a year after Remilia operations started. Which by the way is fucking hilarious considering you tried to claim yourself as a cofounder. If you want to start making estimations about contributions, you're going to have to add detriment to the equation. Everyone that was terminated caused more harm and waste to Remilia than they created, and that was BEFORE the coup attempt, you were incredibly lucky Charlie let you continue to collect our money this whole time, only because you were his friends before Remilia hired you. You have absolutely zero room to argue with me on this considering I worked harder and contributed more to Remilia than all four of you combined, regardless of the several times you specifically tried to pin the blame on me for your fuck ups, ones Charles specifically brought me in to fix repeatedly lmfao  - The $FUMO token was not rugged whatsoever, you are actually literally just making shit up. We were literally about to announce dolls were going into production for Q1 and open the LP when you delayed us with new FUD. It's hilarious you're now trying to FUD FUMO when in your own lawsuit you tried to take credit for the whole project. Like, lmfao, what is your point? That you fucked up yet again? Secondly, the "team dump" you're referring to is your own co-cospirator Yojimbo, who immediately sold the $FUMO he was compensated for shilling, just like he immediately sold his Miladys when it minted out. I'm not even going to address your attempts to insult @pedro_tqm's art. Every criticism you have on the FUMO project is either complete bullshit, disingenuous cope, or a byproduct of damages you are directly responsible for causing. Likely, the reason you're seething about $FUMO is because you and Sprite failed in your attempts to sabotage the project as your final fuck you to Remilia and its community, just like you tried to sabotage the $MOG Warsaw and London Rave.  I'm not surprised you're resorting to trying court by Twitter again considering you're probably broke as shit now having overpaid your lawyers for a case they're likely about to drop once the realize just how fucked you are and how badly you misled them. Keep pretending that everyone in the entirety of Remilia doesn't exist, or we do exist but that we're all "brainwashed" by evil bad Charlie and also don't actually count as part of Remilia because you declared so, or that we definitely all don't fucking hate your guts for the scumbag acts of betrayal, lying, thievery, and scams you can't seem to stop doing.  I will admit I am highly amused and curious thinking about what specific lies you guys are gonna tell your parents over Christmas when they ask "how your little crypto business is going" lmfao. Let me know.
NOOOO I DID EXACTLY 37.6% OF THE MILADY ASSETS BUT THE SPECIAL SPRITE CLAUSE I DREW IN CRAYON ON THE BACK OF MY KEYBOARD SAY I GET A 7X MULTIPLIER WHICH MEANS I CAN RUG THE COMMUNITY I IGNORED!!! PLEASE BUY MY PIECE OF SHIT GRIFT MY RETAINER IS
Streaming the Milady Rave London sets! Come watch!  (London time) 10:00-11:00 guccybebe 11:00-12:00 极简主义垃圾Minimalism Garbage 12:00-1:00 kerosene 1:00-2:00 020baby 2:00-3:00 SinTheology b2b Liu
One of the worst things a young man can do is take any advice about women from women.
Hesitance from a woman is a subconscious shit test. 90% of people dating in the west are absolute disheveled impoverished losers who should not be entering relationships. If you’re a high value male who owns property and makes enough money to support a family (the bare minimum for getting married) you can lock down a marriage proposal within 6 months and be married within a year.   A woman is absolutely at the mercy of the man’s pacing, the only reason these discomforts and receptions exist is because most relationships in western civilization are copes for loneliness and casual sex. As a man, if you’re deliberate, socially competent, and are high value then you could turn basically any serious relationship into a marriage within a year’s time.   Except in the cases of legitimate mental illness or whore impulse mindvirus, women in general are absolutely desperate to lock down a stable partner. The average western woman would immediately shift from shock and anxiety at a serious proposal to absolute joy, relief, and enthusiasm within a 24 hour time period.   And the whole “you need to get to know each other” time period is highly exaggerated. It takes 5 minutes of talking to someone to learn 50% of everything there is to know about them. Within 3 months of courting, unless you’re being ignorant or avoidant, you will 90% of everything you’ll ever know about them. At 6 months it’s 95%. One year, 97%. You will never reach 100% with anyone even if you’re married for decades, you just slowly approach it with exponential reduction in rate.  Knowing about your potential wife or husband’s suitability is 100% about checking for red flags and filtering for them. It’s your responsibility to ask the difficult questions, accept the truth of a bad situation, and cut things off if you’re just going to be wasting your time. A good relationship is 90% filtering and 10% growing. People more or less are who they are, what changes is basic surface level habits over time.   Within three months you should have met her parents and she should’ve met yours. Meeting and analyzing your partners parents is the bulk of determining whether they’re a fit partner for you. This entire system is an inferior substitute to a communal arrangement of marriage between families. No painful and sudden breakup causes any near the same amount of harm to a woman as wasting her time.  Good luck.
No. First, women do not appreciate frugality or cheapness. Second, androids on par with iPhones cost as much so price isn’t even a valid factor in this logic. Third, the iPhone is legitimately a better phone for its intended purpose, communication.   Having used both for years, the iPhone is better for function. It lasts longer without problems than androids do, it contains a myriad of minor quality of life aspects which more than make up for whatever gimmick features androids do better, and most importantly it’s a more focused phone. Androids waste your time, they’re for ricing out backgrounds and playing Gameboy ROMs. iPhones emphasize communication, everything they do is distinctly for the purpose of interacting with other people in the network.  The blue text bubble alone justifies the cost of an iPhone. If you at all care about your network you get the iPhone just for iMessage alone. Arguing that it’s shallow and pointless to care about the green vs blue bubble is the same thing as the Redditor who complains that diamonds are a false market and that lab bought diamonds are even better than natural ones when he’s buying his wife’s wedding ring. It misses the point. Women measure your status by a mixture of your ability to register social cues and how much influence/money/power you have (the three are inherently connected to each other and if you only have one you’re not using it properly to accrue the other two).  In general there’s a lot of trends women are stupid about and it’s a positive quality for a man to reject them, but some of them are correct. You can argue that these aren’t genuine because they’re manufactured by companies trying to make money but the market is a balance between generating demand and catering to it. A woman’s preference for what cell phone a man owns is as arbitrary as peacocks liking bigger feathers. It’s just wherever biology has settled in the urban ecosystem of capitalism.
A lot of women are unaware of a particular species of mischievous time vampires that latch on to them in their early 20s. They present themselves as normal average men and develop a relationship but they DON'T propose or provide any clear goals towards marriage or children.  They try to maintain this arrangement for at least 5 years, usually up to 10 if they can but seldom longer. Either when the woman reaches a breaking point about not being married or when she's well into her 30s, whichever comes first, this devious trickster will come before her and levitate off the ground by a few inches, rolling his eyes into the back of his head.  As thunderous fog and flashes of light fill the living room of their apartment, the creature posing as a boyfriend will visibly and rapidly de-age into how he looked in his early 20s yet again. He will then point and laugh at the woman, howling and cackling before he throws a smoke bomb on the floor and disappears completely. She will be completely unable to find any trace of his existence as he morphs into a new identity to try and waste a younger woman's time.   Within ten minutes of this occurring, a debt collections agency will knock on the door of what is now solely the woman's apartment. When she answers, she will be handed a bill that contains every possible expense the man ever paid for within the breadth of their relationship, with an aggressive APR tacked on which was accruing the whole time.   Any attempt to vocalize this experience or inform others about what happened is hampered by a severe brain fog and lapse in focus, the same kind any single woman above thirty experiences when being forced to make a decision without a man present. At night, she will have scary nightmares of multiple clones of her ex in devil imp halloween costumes jumping up and down with plastic red pitchforks yelling in high pitch squeals, "IT'S YOUR FAULT YOU'RE ALONE YOU HAD SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE YOU HAD SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE YOU HAD SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE-" over and over until she wakes up in a cold sweat.   Ladies, pay attention to the signs, you could be dealing with a time vampire!   Watch out for: - Prolific marijuana use - Makes you pay for anything - 2+ years with zero talk of marriage or children - Met him on Discord - Was your coworker at a restaurant or bar - Works at a restaurant or bar at all - Hates his parents - Dresses like a goofy ass wigger - Isn't ashamed of playing video games in front of you - Obsessed with eating ass  - Takes home leftovers from restaurants - Rents - Refuses to let you quit your job because "how is the rent going to get paid?" - Texts you more than you text him - Complains about his job - Keeps his hands in his pockets too much - Can't go to bed without water on the nightstand - Wears sneakers outside the gym - Watches YouTube drama/Twitch Streamers - Watches YouTube at all tbh - Asks you to drive him - Owns an android - Takes selfies - Listens to or even tolerates rap music  - Orders dessert - Really really loves Kanye - Marvel, Star Wars, Rick and Morty, Reddit, etc - Has ever cried in front of you - Makes his problems your problems - Masturbates - Watches sports - Desktop or phone wallpaper has fictional characters - Colorful lights on his keyboard and mouse - Looks too happy eating phallic foods (banana, sausage, etc) - Herbivore eyes (glazed over, doughy, negative canthal) - Constantly gets caught in little lies - Doesn't understand you - Has any trauma or physical disability - Keeps promising he'll stop watching pornography - Gets emotional about politics in any capacity or direction - Breath stinky, hair greasy, unkempt fingernails - Onliner slouch - Gets in fights in public and loses them - Has to pee too much - Eats microwaved food - Snacks, grazes, gives himself "treats" - Has never fired a gun or thinks guns are bad - Does any kind of singing or voice imitation in front of you - Expresses any desire to be someone else/Celebrity worship - Gets too affectionate with pets - Gives hints about gifts he wants - Gives exact change in coins at the register - Uses coupons, discounts, rewards, or BOGOs - Stands up as soon as the plane lands - Knows the name of any stand up comedian at all - Cannot physically carry you - Pants taper towards the ankles - Emoji reacts your texts - Pubic beard hair - Says he loves you too much
French people literally will live eating the greatest food ever created and experiencing the highest carnal pleasures known to man and then they’ll like sit at a cafe and ash their cigarette and say shit like “Life is very obviously an obscene pointless horror.”
Yes the French have the best cuisine on earth, there is absolutely no room for argument. And no, life is neither pointless nor constant horror. If you think that you have a mindvirus.
Especially excited for this one, basically a perfect movie which was completely robbed of an Oscar by Titanic in 1998. YAYO is doing Lethal Weapon next week and Die Hard for the week before Christmas, but LA Confidential is the most underrated "Christmas" movie there is imo.
Streaming in 5 minutes, come join
Alright bros what are we getting from McLonghouse today? For me, it's the Foidburger.
ONCE in a while I'll switch up and get the McPickMe
The infringement of the mundane is an issue very few men have the words to express dissatisfaction towards. It’s not always done by a woman and it’s not something every woman necessarily does. But the most extreme examples are always done at the hands of women towards men in a relationship. You can find examples of it happening in platonic friendships though.  The infringement of the mundane is a phenomenon that occurs when a natural buildup of spiritual momentum is interrupted by an expression of crude smallness. I’m uncertain whether women have these moments of spiritual momentum the same way men do, not as a put down but a legitimate lack of perspective on the female psyche, but in a man’s mind and heart, spiritual momentum usually takes place in a state of silent deep introspection. It’s encountering a train of thought during life’s poignant moments, a cinematic feeling. A splendorous view at the peak of a mountain, a single crack of lightning, the wind at the top of a skyscraper, or even simply a fast drive on a highway at night. These moments are like a portrait in the mind’s eye.   As a man, encountering a moment like this allows for a feeling beyond words, a sense of being a significant individual over the course of the story that is your life. You zoom out of yourself and see where you’ve been, where you are, and where you’re going. In a healthy mind, these moments are paired with an acceleration of the ego. When the moment is at a local peak of your life you feel triumphant. When a moment is at a low point, it feels like an arduous challenge you’re prepared to embark.   The infringement of the mundane is when these moments are cheapened by the imposition of a stupid fucking comment belched out loud by an individual who is present but lacks the same sense of importance you feel. The best example I can think of is seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time and some fat sow utters out some bullshit quip from her favorite Netflix show of the week. It happens when you take an uncouth person to the most expensive French dinner they’ve ever eaten and they say something stupid about how the chicken tenders at home are just as satisfying. It happens when the best scene of a decent film is playing and some fucking yokel can’t help but make a “funny” joke cutting through the tension in the air like a knife made of farts.  What makes the infringement of the mundane so insidious is that it’s a sin so minor you 100% look like the asshole if you try to address it in any way possible. If you should make the mistake to try and salvage yourself in the face of metaphysical corpulence, you achieve a Pyrrhic victory in destroying your own significant moment and replacing it with brusque conflict. The moment is soiled and all that’s left is animosity. The particularly stubborn will attack you, telling you not to take things so seriously, and therein lies the problem.  Between the cascade of dull content raping every quiet moment in life at all possible opportunity, an overbearing need of content to be consumed cramming itself into every crevice of a days time like an invasive weed suffocating a native flower, and the absolute memetic suicidal poison of irony permeating culture, there is little room to criticize the infringement of the mundane at the scene of collision. Even the premise of doing so is solutionless. What are you supposed to tell someone, that everything they do and everything they are sucks? It’s highly likely they’re incapable of change.  The best a person can do is curate who they choose to spend time with. Especially with friendships and ESPECIALLY in relationships you should develop a comfort at cutting ties with someone incapable of allowing for moments of significance to pass unfettered. I have seen men who have let every moment in life be destroyed by small souled crude loudmouth women, they’re castrated. If you’re incapable of understanding what’s been said, at the very least learn to be comfortable in silence.
Every single day I promise myself I'll stop being a "rant guy" and try to make at least one post that isn't pointing at whatever grotesque filth of the day someone dragged out of the sewers and filmed for the world's amusement.  Every single day I grit my teeth with a trembling clenched fist, hoping for the strength to find a way to move words for the purpose of beauty and inspiration instead of sheer absolute hate. God looks down and laughs, prodding me into the sandpit again and again as my dream soars off into the void, condensing infinitely into an inscrutable dot as I stray further from all good intentions.  I'm sorry. I wish I could be a better man but I'm not. It's not in my nature. You people built a prison cell out of cheering and laughter. Every day I do one thousand pull ups facing a blank white wall, waiting for my 30 minutes of rec time in an empty concrete quad so I can ventilate someone to death with a hardened cone of condensed paper towels. Today it's going to be the fat midwestern sow making tater slop.  It's not even the heaviness of her pork rind jowls enslaving her facial expression to near constant despondence at the hands of gravity that makes me disgusted with her. The obesity is the obvious play here. It's the yelling that gets me. That loudmouth cow belching permanent 90+ decibel bellowing she does 24/7 is her worst sin.  I hate when disgusting trashy poors get loud. There's something wholly unnecessary about it. Out of every possible impulsive habit they could indulge in, loudness is truly the most pointless one. Alcohol, drugs, junk food, laziness, all of that has some kind of pleasure associated with it. Almost all of their vices can be at least logically justified by some incentive.   But not loudness.  Loudness has absolutely no reason to exist, it is completely a product of pure nurture induced misery. This woman screams every day in front of her kids because her mother screamed every day growing up around her. These people would have panic attacks and start suffocating to death if you forced them to sit in silence for 5 minutes. Their existence is invigorated by cacophony. Invariably it's always the dullest braindead morons who are the loudest as well, they project their voices with the slightest hint of a tone to suggest that the fact that they're screaming is in and of itself, an act of implicit comedy. These people learned how to socialize from Jerry Springer reruns on a television cranked to maximum volume drowning out the sound of a withdrawal induced screamfest between their parents.  Tradwives aren't real and neither is being "trad" in the sense that people think it is. It isn't tradition of any kind, it's a simulacra of one developed by some strange blend between 1950s idyllic aesthetics (an already bullshit product of marketing) and 19th century agrarian tropes. I'm really wondering if the post I'm QTing is an intelligent satire and acknowledgement of that dynamic or a sincere love for this howling beast. Regardless, there is nothing redeemable about her. Cooking food for your family isn't some display of exceptional value, it's the absolute bare minimum expectation placed on any married woman. If anything she should be punished for feeding that garbage to her kids.  I apologize to whatever oases of culture may sporadically inhabit the Midwest, but to be frank I think this entire region of America deserved to be glassed into a smoldering radioactive shithole, an opinion I developed within 5 minutes of the first time I crossed the border into the state of Missouri.
This post regards the general reality of millions of screaming trashy poors across America. Even if her yelling is completely just a bit (doubtful), I’ve seen countless people like her, loudmouth diner women with that same mindless high volume honey boo boo bullshit deadened suck it up buttercup Facebook slampig obnoxiousness. It doesn’t need to be real for her for it to be a reality across this country.   The corn fed menace with Crisco DNA can be found at your nearest WalMart at any given moment. If you think it’s cute because you grew up around it, you have Stockholm Syndrome. No amount of hot dogs cut up into Mac n cheese justifies the constant oppression normal good people experience when stuck behind these screeching trailer tugboats fishing for scratch off money in the line at 7/11.
I've decided that according to Hegelian Dialectics & Jungian archetypical storytelling, the only possible way my arc can end with the millennial post is if I track down & make love to that chubby Jewish lesbian, curing me of being an incel.  I don't want to, but it must be done.
YOU WILL DRINK KEY LIME CIDER YOU WILL PLAY GIANT JENGA YOU WILL CHEMICALLY NEUTER YOURSELF WITH LEXAPRO YOU WILL PUT THE STAND UP SPECIAL ON NETFLIX YOU WILL WEAR THE EIFFEL TOWER KEYCHAIN YOU WILL WRITE MAYA ANGELOU QUOTES ON YOUR BATHROOM MIRROR YOU WILL IGNORE STD STATISTICS
It's actually a very interesting line of discussion, processing deliberation as a symptom of natural selective biology. I would argue that this isn't completely natural on its own, it's a byproduct of a select number of individuals propagating a consumer culture meant to rob people of their autonomy. The intent is to create neutered cattle for more consistent markets and easy maneuvering for political gain.  The actual people behind this process aren't all in some boardroom conspiring together, it's a simultaneous effort from a decentralized series of think tanks, marketing groups, media conglomerates, etc. Much like how vultures, hyenas, and ants all don't coordinate when they go to eat a dead gazelle's carcass, it's incentives themselves steering certain opportunist factions into having a population become lobotomized for personal gain, and there's an even split between financial incentive and political incentive between these different groups.  When you talk about what's "natural" there's the all encompassing sense of everything human beings do is just a reflection of their nature. Capitalism is an extension of biology, money is information is bacteria, time is a parasite, etc etc. So this happening on a grand scale IS natural but so is the response coming from nodes in the network choosing to reject the outcome. It's natural for a snow leopard to devour a mountain goat, but it's just as natural for the goat to escape, leaving the snow leopard to starve to death. So yes, it's natural to watch a civilization castrate itself in the face of misrepresented incentives, but it's also natural to reject that outcome and create guerilla propaganda to redirect such a fate.  The delineation between what's natural in a traditional biological sense as it applies to humans is basically just semantics. All we can do is compare what we've been doing for a longer period of time to a shorter period of time. By that metric, civilization itself isn't "natural." We've been fucked up since the domestication of plants and animals. If you wanna take that standard further, we've been fucked up since the discovery of the language parasite. If you want to go even farther, the cycle of discovery and exponential acceleration of technology wildly transforming us is a fractal infinite in every direction. At a large enough scale, everything is natural.
The flaccid asexual emptiness of millennial culture is the direct result of cohabitating male and female friendships in a middle to lower class environment which possesses none of the aristocratic eccentricities to normally justify mixing women and men together in a platonic environment.  When manifested in the office drone white collar/service industry crossover of the average millennial urbanite, you get a facade of equanimity masking a sneering underlying bitterness and hostility. “But Scorch everyone’s just vibing out! What’s your problem, let people have fun chill out!”   No.  I’ve been balls deep inside of the average The Office tier Target furniture core marketing degree craft brewery barcade social circle via the barren womb of an anxiety medicated birth control ex-girlfriend’s friend group. I’ve looked these people in their swollen SSRI faces and seen the bare traced vestiges of what was once a soul. It’s a natural fact that the men in such a friend group are either:  A: Normal dudes quietly bored but playing nice because they’re someone’s boyfriend  B: Beyond unbelievably pussywhipped soft betas who haven’t acknowledged unrequited feelings for one of the girls  C: Closeted or uncloseted homosexuals who may have been MKULTRA’d into a sodomite lifestyle from living the real life equivalent of a sparkling water commercial diverse friend group for over decade  These people are not having fun, every  group I’ve ever encountered that does this cringe shit is populated by people who all constantly complain about how depressed and anxious they are while making ha ha ironic jokes about wanting to die, living timid trembling lives with little to no jouissance.   The millennial is arguably the most unfortunate generation in recent history. They represent the apex of a devastating culture war and the most direct results of spiritual castration with the least amount of pushback antithesis elements among their ranks.   Besides the obvious insufferable premise of an entire performative event being built around a shitty pun turning into the accidental idolization of a mutilation blood sacrifice cannibal child rapist reptilian adrenochrome junkie, the video is just one of many seemingly inconsequential irritations that the average millennial presents. Theirs is a world of nagging rationalizations and pseudo sensibilities. Sometimes you need to take a step back and trust your gut instinct. The only thing standing in between you and the total domestication of your bloodline into the human equivalent of a Labradoodle is your ability to say “Nah this shits gay” and not be crucified by your entire friend group for it.   The murmuring Millenial male who goes along with the soft Human Resources tier lululemon longhouse of burgeoning mids in his Bumble built friend group is the modern eunuch. If you’re a young man and your friend group does shit like this and you’re enjoying yourself then by all means discard this entire post as some wackadoodle rant from a bitter incel or whatever, live your life and be happy.  But if you’re in a friend group that does shit like this and you feel some resonance with what I’ve said, if you’ve known the quiet turbulence of bored rage listening to the forced wine drunk laughter of your 400th session of Cards Against Humanity, then for your own sake, please free yourself.  If you’re charming and have good taste, take absolute control of your friend group and filter it down into something meaningful.   If it’s too far gone or you’re not capable of that, slowly cut yourself off. Pursue something meaningful, make more money, become stronger, faster, more violent, seriously learn a new skill. You are WASTING your TIME.  If you’re a young woman, stop wearing spandex, never watch another episode of Friends again, don’t smoke weed, don’t take SSRIs, don’t take melatonin, don’t take birth control, gay guys aren’t your friends, and if you don’t have other female friends it’s because something is wrong with you.
Thousands of people read this and liked it, trying to say "nobody read this" is colossal cope. If your default response to a large body of text is getting heated about words, you should actually have your phone and computer smashed into a brick wall and be thrown in a cobalt mine to labor until you expire. You were NEVER meant to be allowed to learn how to read, your ancestors were SLAVES.   If the actual content of this post made you angry or upset in any way, you need to understand the following: - I am better than you - I am smarter than you - I am more attractive than you - I am happier than you - I am stronger than you - I am faster than you - I am more violent than you - I am more successful than you - I am more fulfilled than you - I have more friends than you - I have more charisma than you - I have more money than you - This post took me five minutes to write - I am right about everything  If you liked this post, ayyy what's up lmao
Do you think every time the boulder rolled back down the hill, Sisyphus got stuck to it and peeled off at the bottom all flattened like a pancake Looney Tunes style before he popped back into shape and said “Here I go again” while looking exhausted over the sound of tuba music?
Somewhere out there a real estate mogul is spending five figures a month to nuke a housing market and sweep up homes on a discount with tactically placed “Please Stop Raping. Just Say No To Rape.” billboards.
Remember when that guy played old timey ballroom music with a DJ Screw fuzz filter for 6 hours and everyone called him a haunting genius for it lmao
Here’s five uncomfortable truths 95% of society is unequipped to handle.  1: Slavery isn’t wrong.  2: Slavery is necessary to uphold a functioning civilization.  3: Slavery is the solution to every possible economic problem.  4: Slavery is programmed into human DNA as an inevitable archetype emerging from specialization induced by technology.  5: Slavery never stopped existing, it just became diluted and concealed while continuing to uphold the comfort of your existence.
The gangstalked hiding in my walls tier paranoid schizophrenic is one of the most arrogant narcissistic pieces of shit on the planet.  Whenever I see a clip of some random white trash yokel babbling at the camera about how a random pedestrian from 300 yards away is following her, or some guy filming his wall saying that someone’s been hiding inside of it, I get legitimately angry at their arrogance.  Oh so YOU think YOU deserve that level of attention, you boring stupid fuck? You think your gas station job and life spent watching reality TV justifies the MILLIONS of dollars it would take to coordinate a FULL team to surveil you?  It’s not even the preposterousness of the paranoid fantasy that gets me, that’s understandable. Literally crazier things have happened, the CIA egregore has permanently carved out a territory in the minds of everyone who’s ever done acid and the capacity for world altering magic is only limited by the breadth of America’s tax dollars. What gets me is the ARROGANCE. The selfish, self-absurd, delusional, entitled, ARROGANCE. Some of us have to carry on with our day to day lives in humble silence. SOME OF US have to contend with the monotony of life. A suspicion of everyone paying attention to you secretly isn’t a random mental attack, it’s subconscious wish fulfillment from an attention whore with broken radar.   Untold damage has been caused by arguably one of the greatest pranks ever played on schizophrenic people by the creation of The Truman Show. It empowered SO many boring mundane losers into thinking that their dull insipid lives could ever be worth even one person stalking and recording them, let alone a team of thousands for an audience of millions. If you think anyone on earth is stalking you without ever having met them and you’re NOT a hot girl, you should absolutely be flogged for your insolence.   And let’s say the fantasy is mundane. Oh there’s a guy hiding inside your walls?? If I felt someone was hiding inside my walls and my response was to film it, complain about it, upload it to YouTube, and do nothing, do you know what that would make me? A fucking PUSSY. If you actually TRULY believed in your paranoid delusion you’d go out of your way to do something about it.   This isn’t to say all schizophrenic people are like this, many of them have the grace to suffer in silence. But if you’ve talked some of them online you likely have encountered that same level of arrogance, that entitled jerk off level of accusatory confrontational pettiness they have where they get snide with you because “you’re out to get them.”  Instead of throwing your hands up or smirking in surprise, the moment this happens you should absolutely introduce consequences into their lives. Always take the time to completely shit on someone who’s paranoid about you and their first instinct is to attack. Just because they live in a world of delusions doesn’t mean they magically deserve special treatment for being assholes, the laws of power still apply. If you think I’m talking about you specifically, I am.
Remilia has always had a contingent of clueless CT influenzas who have had their egos gassed up in a mainly NY-centric coked up circle jerk about how they’re the “real” Remilia ecosystem and they’re the “real” Milady community, despite being completely disconnected from the culture.  This is largely the fault of some of the more loud, ignorant people informally self positioned as ambassadors for the online culture into the crypto world. These individuals had a rare opportunity to accurately convey the power and depth of what we’re building out to their crypto buddies, tasked with delivering an infodense memetically powerful culture movement to a group of oversocialized disheveled dorks who happened to catch the right wave of cash flow off smoking bowls and lurking on /biz/ 7 years ago. But instead of trying to understand it, let alone convey it, they delivered some half assed lukewarm “milady is about chilling and hanging out with your bros” nonsense while sucking themselves off, more interested in building their own clout than propagating milady, and taking advantage of Remilia internal's mystification to all but outright lie about their actual relationship to the real Remilia core.  So it comes to no surprise that a number of the people in this circlejerk, people who fancy themselves as whales at a war room that decide which projects live or die by coordinated GC signaling, got upset when the idea of their “super special secret insider connect who sat at the top of Remilia” turned out his only role at Remilia was to be a paid shill specifically targeting them.  Suddenly any semblance of influence over what Remilia does, as much of a cope as it always was, slips through their fingers and they lash out impotently. Trying to leverage what minuscule social power they have through posturing while all the same holding, because they know we’re the only culturally successful NFTs that ever has or ever will exist. Basically trapped in the slavery of their own incentives, these people will never act on an actual conviction in their lives.   Their existence as urbanite sodomites is one of mutual backstabbing and snake socializing, where people that they call friends will fuck each others girlfriends, betray each other, and shit talk voraciously and they’ll just sit there and take it while “squashing the beef” over a few lines of coke at someone’s house party. Between that, typical NY/LA crossover neuroticism, gambling degenerate habits, and a complete lack of values leaves these people spiritually bereft. They try and snidely “declare” cultural shifts despite their idea of culture being DMT vape pens, black people sneakers with white people hoodies, and saying YOOOOO whenever they see like a shroom art mural or a banksy painting.  These people don’t have a fucking clue what’s cool and what isn’t. No matter how many times they try and countersignal Remilia in some flaccid hope that Charlotte Fang’s extremely specific vision and notorious golden touch can be ousted and replaced with some safe but agreeable troglodyte committee or some retarded rugcore NFT which totally is going to be the new milady, this time, we promise, nothing changes the fact that they’re completely lost without us.  It’s okay though we’ll keep on taking your money and rotating it into the hands of the based autistic schizophrenic NEET army raising hell in our culture war. You don't have to get it, you don't even need convictions, so long as you support the war machine you can win alongside us. Thanks for being a customer.
The most egregious part of teenage mutant ninja turtles isn’t mutant talking turtles, it’s that they had the energy to be doing martial arts all day on a diet of only pizza
Would like to point out that Miladycraft’s impending update introducing vehicles will finally allow players to drink and drive. Our only question now is whether to simply have it be legal or mandatory.
Besides being an unbearably mediocre musician who's only loved by tasteless losers, I assert that Bob Dylan is in fact, smelly. The following story was told to me by a woman I encountered at a job 4 years ago, I'll let you decide its veracity:  There was this online clothing catalogue delivery service that was big in the 2000s that had the word "American" in the name (maybe American Apparel?) which went out of business in the late 2000s or early 2010s. They had a one week return policy with a full refund.  A woman who used to work in the customer service call center of this company told me of several different celebrities who she spoke with over the phone that had purchased outfits and clothes from this store, including people I was surprised to hear didn't use assistants for this kind of errand, such as Meryl Streep and Tom Cruise (apparently very polite on the phone).  However, one such celebrity which was flagged as an immediate manager escalation every time he called was Bob Dylan. He would go by his real name, Robert Allen Zimmerman. Every single week, usually on a Friday, he would get on the phone and argue with customer service for at least an hour trying to return an outfit he had purchased almost a week before.  Apparently, Bob Dylan would buy a full outfit and wear it for a week straight without showering or washing it. Then before the week was over, he would harass the customer service into accepting the return before shipping back the clothes absolutely reeking in his stench and filthy from whatever Bob Dylan activities he had done that week.   He would do this EVERY SINGLE WEEK with a rotating cycle of outfits, sometimes the same ones he had purchased before despite being rich enough that buying hundreds of them would be a negligible expense. Eventually he was blacklisted from being able to return clothes at this store and immediately stopped purchasing any in the future.
He was correct in principle but wrong in practice. This little nebbish grub was lashing out at the lost childhood replaced by being forced to take piano lessons every day by a nagging yenta mother, doomed into obscure nepotism non-performance roles by his dysgenic midgetry and freakish hunchback mutant form.  His anger was the anger of a life misdirected towards an industry he absolutely had no chance of excelling in. Even if he was a modern Mozart, nobody could ever look up at him on a stage and take him seriously. His miserable irrelevant screeching about having walked Bob Dylan on stage (a smelly unbearable hack) as the pinnacle of his life’s achievements betrays the small minded scarcity of the typical New Yorker, one’s self defined by proximity to notoriety.   And yet despite being a real life version of a fairy tale goblin horror, he’s still completely correct. No amount of ugliness could match up to the sheer absolute scum that is the public performer. The human parasite that pollutes daily existence with cacophony, holding the patience and attention of tourist troglodytes hostage for a paltry tossed quarter, is an enemy of decency.   The classically and contemporaneously trained hobbit was absolutely correct, the noise of public performance is already an unwanted intrusion made so much more worse by unbearable mediocrity. In a just world, the trumpeter would’ve been dragged into an unmarked van and had his fingers broken by the employees of a government that truly cared about its citizens.
Much like how the highest IQ people in the world always have something better to be doing than creating IQ tests, the wealthy do not waste their time pandering to statistics studies since the academics conducting them cannot possibly afford their time.   There is always a drop off in accuracy whenever human beings rank themselves in any level of hierarchy. This is the paradox of trying to capture an understanding of the top of the food chain, the only people doing it exist in the middle at best. These are the pleasant myrmidons of nature, bureaucratic marmots who chose a safe path and were born in the comfort of mediocrity. Their roles in life were to be metaphorical tour guides and line attendants. They stand at the amusement park gate punching tickets and telling themselves they hold the keys to adrenaline, speed, and power while never having met the engineers who built the behemoth roller coasters and scarcely remembering the last time they felt excitement riding them as they laboriously drilled all of their whimsy into monotonous familiarity. These are a people who “know” everything and understand nothing.  Much like a child innately understands that the magic of flight cannot be grasped by dissecting a dead bird, anyone with a brain, a heart, or a dick can fathom the inherent pleasure of being a plutocrat. $80,000 a year is the peak of happiness? What a sick fucking joke. You can’t even live on that salary.   The greatest pleasure of life is in the competition of power between yourself and your peers. Consuming gruel and simulating combat online is a paltry substitute compared to the thrill of hunting humans in an undisclosed quarantined island off the coast of Indonesia. Your favorite boutique fusion restaurant holds no tastes which can rival the fabled Galapagos tortoise soup paired with a warm pint of white rhinoceros blood. Even the birth of your child is a cheap disgusting humiliation ritual of coerced mutilation in a sterile fluorescent lit torture facility if you cannot afford the highest levels of quality and care at the hands of privately hired midwives. Any example of fulfillment you can cope your way into thinking as comparable to the wealthy falls apart when faced with the indisputable freedom of options that having Fuck-You levels of money provides.   The pleasures are the smallest portions of joy in the life of the wealthy. When you’ve unlocked every possible level of human satisfaction in material, sexual, narcotic, aesthetic, and emotional context, there is still the driving force of knowing someone is richer than you, that someone ranks above you. Even occupants of megayachts and private space station visits seethe towards the unnamed global elite. Those whose identities have been stricken from any public record, their children are given special names once known through history but erased from all libraries and archives. Their phone calls have destroyed entire continents, and yet THEY answer to the incomprehensible DMT entities whispering secrets into their frontal lobes beyond the periphery of dreams as they hook themselves up to golden plated ornate divining thrones with Professor X helmets bored into their skulls and MKULTRA image flashes of Sumerian glyphs projected into their eyes.   And while these angels, demons, djinns, spirits, and entities all fight innumerable wars in their own levels of hierarchy for spans of time older than the universe itself, they too seethe and climb towards the unreachable position where God Himself sits and laughs. And I can guarantee you, His salary did not stop at $80,000 a year.
People don't know this but you can just choose to not be damaged  Love is based. So is heartbreak  I'll do it over and over and over again till it finally hits right and I'll pretend each time's my first
State of the market
There isn't really an excuse for not being jacked as a founder at this point  It's simply too clear now that huge muscles increase shareholder value
The most insane thing libtards did with full control of education was use it to convince people obesity is caused by.. Poverty   It's obviously very expensive to buy and eat so much food you transform into a 500lb slug-person
"They're so poor the only thing they can afford to eat is McDonald's 5x/day, which costs 2000% more than bulk whole foods you toss in a crockpot. The science proves it"
Every lifter realized immediately how retarded this talking point was when they went to college and discovered they somehow spent less per week eating 4lbs of chicken breasts and rice daily than every fat person they knew
"much younger staffer" is so funny here  She's not contending that the staffer was underage, she's just saying "the gap is simply beyond the pale. The numbers are too far apart and it's evil"
Elon waging a holy war against BMI  Total milady victory
Nobody is prepared for the milady BAYC penguin holy union
YOU DON'T HAVE HYPOTHYROIDISM  YOUR HORMONES ARE FINE  IT'S NOT A GLUTEN INTOLERANCE  YOU EAT TOO MUCH FOOD!!  THE ONE WEIRD TRICK YOU SEEK IS E A T I N G   L E S S
He had such perfectly symmetrical ab insertions..
Donald Trump doesn't even know mog was initially a "hunter Biden smokes crack" coin  We are so early
The gayest thing ever is when you reply to someone and they're like "WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE ABOUT A 7 FOLLOWER ACCOUNT BRO" bc it reveals they check the follower counts of people before interacting with them
Woah dude that's a Little Account I can't talk to them it would be bad for my brand image... I wish some Big Accounts would talk to me more on here...
Launch it again. Shill harder. Bundle bigger. Infinite money cap table. Never stop dreaming
Kyle got a pic of me in the office doing my daily sleeve removal
Being anonymous made a lot more sense before the richest man in the world started spamming crime stats here every day
Lot of you guys are gonna get your asses canceled hard when we realize there's no screenshots of you saying the N word before 2017
Posting racist longpost screeds and getting 10k likes is so awesome I love Elon
I only fell in love with her because she tricked me
What should I wear today
What next
Son, you might not believe this, but back in the day ethereum traded publicly at over 1000 US dollars
NO IDEA WHAT THIS COIN IS   SHORTED CUZ THE CHART LOOKED LIKE DOGSHIT  ALL HAIL TECHNICAL ANALYSIS
I think internet anonymity was kind of a genx/millenial thing. Boomers don't care about it at all (or even understand it) and zoomers actually think it's even dumber than boomers did - they're out here committing felony levels of fraud from [mylegalname].sol
Those Thailand ladyboys got something freaky going on down there
Coaching my son on how to anglefraud
It's important to establish firm boundaries with women
I keep getting comments whining about how my libtard posts are DEMONIZING HALF THE COUNTRY just like THE LEFT DID  But they're not half the country, they're like 5%  Your dad who wants cheap healthcare is not a libtard. The she/they threatening to force-vaxx you is
I don't care if you're here "legally" or not, if you come to America and bitch about the country and the people who made it, you are a libtard  Libtards may choose between DEPORTATION and GUANTANAMO BAY  Democracy has been restored
You can't dehumanize someone who wasn't human to start with
There was never a point to arguing with libtards, but there's never been less of a point than right now  They are absolute scum of the earth. That's all they need to hear. No arguments. Scum of the earth. Guantanamo bay
They are not "kind-hearted but misguided," they are malicious manipulators who hide their aggression behind a veneer of moralism. They don't argue in good faith and you shouldn't either  "SCUM OF THE EARTH" "GUANTANAMO BAY"
Women could never innovate like this
This is the most tiresome talking point of all time bc 20 minutes later they'll flip and talk about how legitimate their fear of a 120lb frat guy wearing 'salmon-colored' pastel shorts is bc "he could be a terrorist"  Nobody believes any of this, it's just fully delusional  Normal people ARE valid being pissed off by mentally retarded crackheads masturbating on the train in front of their kids and delusionoids ARE NOT valid for believing random frat twinks could secretly be terrorists  You cannot gaslight people into thinking otherwise anymore. If you continue trying, we have to assume you're insane
WE ARE FEARLESS CITY GIGACHADS WHO AIN'T AFRAID TO LIVE LAUGH LOVE (unless there's frat boys within 100 miles or someone is coughing without a mask on or maybe they didn't get a vaccine. Also if they say any of these 900 words I'm scared of I'll start crying)
Like I said  They are ALL fucking pussies, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise
You stupid fucking colonized bitch
White people have been biting their tongues for the last 2 decades while the most retarded, uncivilized people on the planet said "white people have no culture", but I'm pretty sure that's done now  Beyond the fact it's just objectively wrong (everyone has a culture), it's also insulting  If you use this "whites have no culture" line, chances are the rest of the world thinks your culture is  - being broke - raping kids - doing retarded crime for no reason - being illiterate - living in filth - lying - being insanely obnoxious - not working - showing up late - not understanding the concept of interest  You are totally irrelevant, in a global sense. Your greatest impact on the world was being so annoying you got white people to pretend not to notice you for a while
If you're still posting stuff like this now you're functionally braindead  You don't get to freely shit on white people without consequence anymore, especially not while using white languages like a colonized bitch  Culture means more than just rapping about how you're gay
Bangkok was great (all hail Arnav, king of Thailand) but god it feels good to be back  Taipei's really good
Everyone who bought into libtardism this last year at the absolute generational pico-top is so retarded it's actually not possible to express verbally
I'm gonna make generational wealth going max long eth from 60 to 150 dollars
Studying krav maga (the martial arts based entirely around kicking an unsuspecting person in the nuts, developed by the state of Israel)
Racism is on an unstoppable tear since the trump win  Hail Jake Paul, hail our people (youtubers), and HAIL VICTORY
HAIL CAPCUT, HAIL SONY AUTOFOCUS AND HAIL CLICKBAIT
My son may have lost 100k live on stream and had a public mental breakdown but I still love him  Couldn't ask for a better kid
CMO (Chief Misogyny Officer)
Board meeting type shit
The obelisk is fueled by libtard souls  Finally they have a way to produce value
The black ass coin is my personal 9/11  I'm world-renowned for being one of the gayest posters on this website but spamming pictures of Mike Tyson's bare ass on the timeline is too much for even me
I am an old man who made every mistake in the universe so I could explain why it was bad to zoomers and protect them. Come listen to me ramble about retarded shit I did that almost ruined my life. Should I start with drugs work or women
In early relationships I always made this really dumb mistake where the girl would come to me and say "lukas I feel like you're just not that into me" and I'd argue with her instead of realizing she was right and confirming it
After 11 years of talking daily my mom has not texted me once since Trump won. Probably a coincidence
This is so amazing. I feel like I'm living in a dream  What if they make it so you can buy food in America again without getting poisoned  I literally didn't think this was possible
We tried doctors and it didn't work. Everyone is fat and disgusting now  We must return to pseudoscience  Crystal healing. Water filters, even if we have no idea what we're trying to filter out. Fluorescent lights? Banned, they give my mom a headache. Lift weights or you're gay
This is it. The moment you've all been waiting for   Right wing bodybuilding : part 2  Now with MORE RACISM
If her head game too good I get a lil suspicious
I fell in love with her bc of her fast and witty Twitter replies
This has been the greatest year of all time
Got sent a screenshot of an ex posting this tweet in a groupchat absolutely seething
Remember how libtards did that thing where they'd say "this isn't even political, it's just about being a decent human!!" to pretend their entire platform was apolitical?  I offer a rebuttal:  There is nothing political about the statement "all libtards are soulless worm-people"
I need to become so wealthy I stop caring about my appearance so I can get extremely fat and yell at libtards all day with mustard stains on my wifebeater
Libtards may have only recently been abandoned by the electoral college, but they were abandoned by God long ago
We have to stop doing the "education is about indoctrination" line now that we control everything  Education was only about that when they did it, but now it's about pure unadulterated truths - like how libtards aren't considered "people" by any legislative body, or God
At a certain level of wealth it seems you're compelled by the universe to develop strange and totally never-before-seen sex kinks  I no longer believe anyone claiming to have 9 figures if I haven't also heard rumors they want to eat women's leg hair shavings or something
I'm not a freak babe I'm just rich as fuck. Now do the Ben Shapiro voice for me again
Frontrunning so hard it's insane
"I don't mind supporting decentralization even if ethereum never breaks ATHs"
Just rotated ten dollars of my eth profits into an Uber ride  Crypto changed my life
My only goal in life is to get a water filter company to sponsor my podcast
Insane how if my gym didn't get shut down during covid and force me to log on and try to meet a racist bodybuilder here with a homegym connect I'd still be a passably normal person. Or dead by boredom-suicide
Lukas Corporate Arc will NOT be revisited
The mog coin is doing well
Department of government efficiency but it's managed by a DAO-owned multisig with ten thousand signers, all in different timezones to ensure maximum security, on the ethereum blockchain for fast finality (average block time: 12 days)
The department of government efficiency must employ no less than 5000 administrators to work remotely
I didn't think it was possible but watching the way libtards are coping with the election is making me hate them even more. If you're this mad about it at least riot you pussies. The fact they'll only do it with state backing is genuinely disgusting. Actual worm people
He's not even in office yet!! Go light it up, just like the good ol times!!  What's wrong? You stopped caring about platforming minority voices??
If your response to winning every seat of power in the country after like two decades of genuinely unhinged libtard malice is "Bro we need to heal," I think you're just fundamentally wrong. I respect your opinion but I also think you are a niave retard
Democrats destroyed America by not paying enough black women to shake their asses and flip the vote. For this I may never forgive them
The total republican victory royal flush extravaganza wasn't even a product of some genius God-tier political strategy they had  Libtards are just insanely annoying  They could gaslight everyone into thinking they're not when they controlled every single media outlet, but as soon as literally one public forum wasn't under their control everyone went there to say "holy shit, they are so annoying. Has anyone noticed this??"  Then everyone goes "wait, so true. I thought it was just me. Is there some way we can make them stfu"
There was probably even a way the dems could've won this election, but even with all the electoral nonsense on their side, the core problem remains: libtards are insanely annoying  You simply cannot be that annoying and have anything work long-term. You have to stop being f*ggots
You somehow lost with 50x the billionaires and 1000x the msm dominance  What you actually need is GUANTANAMO BAY
Total reddit domination  Women will never experience sexual pleasure EVER AGAIN  Hail victory
If you guys haven't figured this out yet you have to multiply the time estimates Grab gives you in Bangkok by 5
Deport everyone  There should be zero US citizens. None of you are white enough
It's highly possible Luma is the worst consumer app of all time. Somehow it's worse than every crypto app I've ever used
It doesn't even have to interact with blockchains. There is simply no reason it should be this bad  At this point they should integrate web3 so they at least have an excuse for being this fucked up
Okay well fortunately it doesn't matter because if crypto dies they'll all be poor  No need to dwell on negatives, sir
"would you rather have sex with a minor or your own dad"  "Uhh, my dad? I guess??"  "fuck, I'm so blackpilled"
I am a racist misogynist incel and this is the bonsai meditation sanctuary I maintain on the rooftop garden of my Miami penthouse
The rate crypto main characters are becoming washed at is increasing exponentially  You used to get a whole cycle as MC, then you'd get a meta, now you just get like three weeks
Sidecharacters rejoice  Gooning their way to billions in the background
I'm in love with every woman who's ever used the internet
Who would win  Ten million Albert Einsteins or one single retail investor
Canceling my mom for having no clout and being libtarded
Denying history in totality is actually a pretty good strategy when the people writing it aren't on your side
Nothing ever happened before Trump deported 300m illegals in one day  Anyone saying otherwise is a libtard
Fake and gay vs straight and (real)
I could convince 90% of zoomers 9/11 never happened and it was just a hoax they pulled on old people because we believed TVs too much. That also might be true
The capacity to deny literally all of history is a superpower. Previously Alex Jones was the only human in existence with this ability, but now basically every zoomer has it too
Unburdened by the traumas of the past. Fuck your gay textbooks
I befriended the ktv girl cabal and they taught me how they always win the dice games  (it's cheating)
This would've also been their strategy if kamala won btw  There is actually no environment or circumstance under which this would not have been their strategy
Markets are a part of nature
I wouldn't live in the pod personally, but I think it's a viable housing option for democrats - and the free market should make it available for them. And the less-free market should legally mandate they live there, to save the environment  Also they can only eat worms
Why do I have to take my shoes off for airport security in America  Literally no other country makes you do this. There is a zero percent chance I have a bomb in my vans ma'am
Imagine you blow up the shoe bomb and just fly 500 feet straight into the air
Bears: prison Gary gensler: prison Sellers: prison Democrats: GUANTANAMO BAY
If you go to prison and can't get jacked before your sentence is up they should just toss you back in tbh  Absolute failure of a person
Twitter finally deciding to not ban Martin every six weeks was singlehandedly responsible for Republicans winning every election in the universe
Every one of you already made it (real) (future value)
Tim walz is the king of all albino coons and for his crimes he will spend an eternity in purgatory being given orders by mulatto middle managers
If you sell out you better make sure you win, f*ggot
FUCK YOU  GET OFF MY LAWN, BITCH
It's that time of year again boys  LOCKOUT PRICE ACTION  hope you're positioned!!
I made these bc I needed a new gym cutoff to wear while screaming into my phone sending socially unacceptable voice messages in public, never occurred to me other people might like them too  Thank you so much for all the support, you have no idea what it means to me 🥺
Free AIDS medication for all Americans, but if you accept it Donald Trump personally tattoos "PROBABLY HOMO" on your forehead
Listen to me boomer dipshit, I'm one of the top 4 greatest shitter investors of all time -- #degenharambe level.  Don't you dare compare your "value creation" stocks to the humanity-changing scams I back
These people actually live in marvel movies
Public nudity should only be illegal if you're fat
Seeing a fat person in clothes is 100x more scarring than seeing 1000 naked Olympian athletes
Every founder will captulate into shirtless bathroom selfies above 80k btc
Even the men
We are currently in a world-historical egirl bull market
The era of ox dot fun bathroom selfies has officially begun
Merch landed  First shirt went to the most evil bastard I know
Okay I understand how this dude blew his account up 43 times now
I'm so amped up by the bitcoin price I didn't even realize I forgot my daily iced americano with three espresso shots  5% bitcoin daily is equivalent to at least 500mg caffeine
Above 80k bitcoin I develop the ability to love even women
God babe you're so fucking sexy I'm so sorry I was such an asshole to you for 27 consecutive years I have no idea what got into me
80k btc kino
I'm quite happy bitcoin finally broke 80k, but I don't feel great walking down the street and seeing all the bears and Kamala voters hung from lightpoles by their entrails
80k down  But this isn't over till 3 million with gensler in prison
SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE SUPERCYCLE
HOLY SHIT I JUST CHECKED THE COINS  GUYS  WE'RE GONNA MAKE IT
Ethereum became amazing again above 3k
I love you so much I have to go to bed without touching you now. Please tell all my friends I'm straight or I'll kill myself
Do you have a sister who's exactly like you but without that one major dealbreaker
The tub clearly has room for 2 people but she still won't get in with me  What am I doing wrong
Obese? In Trump's America??   GUANTANAMO BAY
I just met a guy in Bangkok telling people he was Lukas computer
The Asian woman ai bots think I am 50
Me nico and su will speak at every panel for the next ten years
I genuinely didn't think this was possible
Everyone complaining about how how Bangkok is but the true founders are euphoric  You don't have to use the sauna with weather like this  We all just gained 20min/day  Most efficient country in the wod
He's back  The trenches just got 30% darker
Definitely a two person tub
I have extremely common political beliefs and it turns out everyone in the country agrees with me
I miss Kyle Davies
I can definitely fit two people in this hotel bathtub
Do zoomers even know what guantanamo bay is or are they just liking my posts about it in solidarity
There should be a law preventing you from ever leaving GUANTANAMO BAY
I'm the biggest millenial hater in the universe but this is 100% stolen valor  Gen z is only allowed to be racist bc a select few millennials spammed hysterical racism during a time it actually ruined your life and sent you to prison
So multiple people this week told me they're looking forward to the panel I'm speaking at. But I had no idea I was speaking at anything here  Can someone tell me where/when it is? I'll 100% do it, regardless of topic. Just need the details  Thank you so much for this opportunity
Bangkok is cool
I had the option to seed pumpfun and moonshot and I faded both because I just sorta got busy and forgot  It's just like my relationships
We here
If you're gonna try and send a billionaire ex-president to prison multiple times, you really gotta make sure you don't fuck up  But they did  And it's his turn now
GUANTANAMO BAY
All these American girls spamming about the 4B movement are so lmao bc literally nobody you talk to IRL in Korea has any idea what it is. It's an entirely online meme  Just make your own movement at this point, it'll be much easier than having this conversation 100x:  "I'm part of the 4B movement" "What are the 4 Bs?" "Well I'm not sure, I think it's Korean. But basically it means I'm supposed to die alone"
Nice tits you stupid fucking bitch
First time in Thailand and I'm honestly disappointed. I was really looking forward to ladyboys, but the 'white men for Kamala' back home were much softer and more feminine
First time in Thailand, anyone know where to get the best transsexuals?  Or the cheapest (I'm Jewish)
NEVER STOP DREAMING
No fucking way. A profitable eth long  Things really are different now, huh
That's because you're not capable of empathy  It's also why you lost every race this election and probably why you're broke too
They're also just too scared to riot this time bc they had their delusions shattered and realized they're very outnumbered and all their supposed support was astroturfed
The "white people caint food" meme was retarded when tumblr did it in 2009 but it's so so much worse now that everyone knows the average black person just eats literal slop  There's a reason they're the fattest race in America
We all just admitted we've been sharing this same Pepsi cup for the last 3 days bc we forgot to buy drinking glasses when we moved in
So technically the ox house has 4 bedrooms with 3 spare if me nico and dom all share the office
8k likes  These are very serious people
Men have been doing this for the last 10 years already lol
We didn't have enough guys so I had to train like 3 egirls even though I have no idea how to trade  Theoretically this should give me an insanely unfair advantage  In practice I'm not sure it works out that way
Despite the fact I'm theoretically gonna get nuked here, I still feel an impending sense of doom every time I leave Taiwan
Broody type shit
The level of euphoria I'm feeling was only possible bc I genuinely thought Kamala would just steal the whole thing  Went from the worst possible outcome to the best in one second  Human beings probably weren't meant for that level of emotional volatility. I almost died
Omg! that's so brat, queen   Girllll math
If you're in crypto and you voted blue this election, we are gonna do things to you that have never been done before  Good luck, Cochran
Whenever I celebrate eth going up people reply saying "you shit on eth all the time, do you even hold it?"  Yes. That's WHY everyone shits on it. We hold a fuckton of it and are PISSED OFF at for going DOWN ONLY for TWO YEARS   If we held no eth we simply would not give a fuck
We will have govt sanctioned ball-sunning by 2026
I have to be dreaming  Ethbtc up while bitcoin at aths  How does it just keep getting better
I love you so much God
Women are a hyperdeflationary asset class
WE WERE THE WELL-ADJUSTED ONES ALL ALONG  FUCK YOU
NO DUDE YOU'RE IN A CONSERVATARD BUBBLE  LOG OFF  NOBODY IN REAL LIFE THINKS THIS STUFF BRO EVERYONE SECRETLY AGREES WITH ME I'M WELL ADJUSTED AND YOU'RE THE DELUSIONAL ONE ACTUALLY
Zero question, if Elon didn't buy Twitter this would've been a total wash the other way  Every libtard who screeched about what a bad "business deal" it was doxxed themselves as mentally retarded
I thought I was being sarcastic here but it turns out I was explaining how to make ten billion
TWO SIXTY MIL DAILY VOLUME  The greatest day in the universe just WILL NOT QUIT
So I'm feeling pretty excited about seeing my family this thanksgiving
Disbelieve women
Oh you're tired of hearing about crypto??  I've got some bad news
Kamala must storm the white house on January 6th to rectify this injustice
Kamala must take an unprecedented 12-hour break from pills and booze to empower herself with the motor control required to storm the white house
If I hit a net worth 2x on the day bitcoin breaks all time highs, Trump wins the presidency and OXFUN makes a daily volume high I am going to be so euphoric there's a nonzero chance Taiwan deports me
WOMEN'S RIGHTS have been OFFICIALLY ABOLISHED
NEVER forget how much the libtards gloated in 2020  Do it back TIMES FIFTY
Was telling myself I didn't care about the outcome of this election to avoid disappointment but my reaction to the outcome is leading me to believe that maybe I did actually care. Just a teensy tiny bit
RUN IT BACK
I just realized the zoomers don't even know about this one  I am so old it's insane
MONTH OF THE INCEL  YEAR OF THE CHUD  BITCOIN ALL TIME HIGHS  ABSOLUTE LIBTARD DEVASTATION  Can you think of a SINGLE BETTER WAY to start the holy golden bullrun of all crypto assets
Turns out internet racists are much better at propaganda than email HR women
THAT'S MY PRESIDENT  FUCK YOU, LIBTARDS  TOTAL VICTORY
I didn't think it was possible to make this much money profiting from people I hate losing everything  Greatest markets in the universe
This may be the single greatest day in the history of the universe
I'd like to redeem for my asian woman now, if that's alright by you
So it's looking like these pollster sluts may have lied to us a little bit, huh
The future is MALE
Gavin newsom will go down as exactly the genius prodigy I proclaimed him to be for fading the living fuck out of this election  The Weasel God will emerge from this shitshow completely untainted by the failings of the Party of Squirrel Slaughterers
Killing the squirrel right before the election was a world-historical blunder  This will go down in history as the single greatest policy fumble of all time. It's actually insane  They managed to make their opponents millions of dollars while handing them the election too
Study oxfun spaces alpha
Whoever shouted this out in the space, I love you
People get mad at pumpfun for being extractive, but they actually totally removed massive extraction by auditors and I haven't seen anyone mention this yet  Before pump, everyone had to pay someone like Certik some 5-fig amount to "audit their contract" so people knew it was safe  It was mostly meaningless from a security perspective - audited contracts got exploited all the time anyway. But it was this thing you needed for people to trust a coin enough to put a lot of money in. Basically an insurance racket  Now, seeing "pump" at the end of a CA acts as the audit. Everyone knows it's a safe contract so you don't need to pay the auditors for basic coin launches anymore. This puts all that money back in the devs hands and it is absolutely more per launch than whatever they make with their 1% fees  Pump killed the auditor middlemen
HAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA
LIBTARDS FOR PRISON 2024
Oh no not you, [girl reading this]. I meant the ones with small breasts
Fuck "the crystals" you gay bitch  They're going in JAIL CELLS
All hail the electoral college  No idea why libtards agreed to this ridiculous scam of an idea but I'm not complaining  STATES RIGHTS 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸
The numbers don't lie  RACK city, bitch
I am the single greatest proponent of rack dominance on this entire website
> longed btc > shorted eth > both in profit  Never fails  I don't gamble, I am simply 100% aligned with reality  There is no political environment in which ethereum can't find a way to underperform
There's a difference between wanting a candidate to win and betting money on them winning  It's dreams vs reality  Don't blow up betting on your delusions
Never before has our great nation been blessed by such overwhelmingly qualified presidential candidates  No matter who loses the election today, I think we can all agree:  America wins
Betting markets for stuff like the US election are epic bc you get to watch delusional retards become broke delusional retards
If you've never traded with 50x leverage before, today is probably the best day possible to dip your toes in  Head over to my bio, sign up for oxfun and enjoy the process. You'll pick it up quick, don't worry
May the better propagandists win
Voting is gay but if you don't vote Trump the last time you ever have the opportunity to you're a bitch forever
I am a genius
I love my life so much it's insane
Walk home from the office is so epic
Thanks for playing, libtards
Fucking mogged
Hit a lick on that Kamala short and balled out hard w/ some new clothes
888  China mode unlocked
I don't think anyone's actually bought eth in like one year  They just wind up with eth because they sell things on mainnet into eth and leave it there  Then at some point people look at the ETHBTC chart and realize it's down so much they either say "well surely this must be the bottom" and keep holding or they decide to sell the eth too
There is actually a very strong argument that this has to be the ETHBTC bottom, but I've only talked to like 4 people total buying based on that. The rest are just ethcels praying to god it'll reverse so their bags finally go up
Both  I am positioned for the greatest Darth Maul wick of all time  May the god of volatility bless us
One asian woman for every white dude for trump  Present your "I voted" sticker and we will redeem it for the asian at a 1:1 rate  Prove you voted for him more than once and we'll give you a whole stable. You deserve it, king
It is simply impossible to count all ballots in 24h  Anyone who tells you we've ever been able to do that is an alt-right misinformation terrorist  The process of verifying our democracy has always been a multi-week journey
Rektober went from the least profitable trader on our entire website to one of the most profitable in like one month  "While you studied [gay US political bullshit] I studied [making 30k from 1k in 2 days]"  Study studying
Landshark was right  Foid is the funniest word in the universe
Why do all the Real Men For Harris look so demure and beautiful..
I'm not a gay sexual predator  But if I was...
Wanting to know the results of an election is a fundamentally feminine trait. Why do you care so much about someone else's decision?  An alpha male should be fine with us counting for years and years, decades even  You're not a gay little beta male, are you?
Kalmia is a ho
Do you guys remember in 2017 when libtards would seethe about trump by like, editing a diaper on him, or editing him into a huge baby, or doing totally bizarre stuff like this
The foid assault on Elon makes it too obvious  She's just objectively wrong. We literally have a point system to measure competence in the world - they're called dollars, and Elon has more than anyone else  The *ONLY REASON* you'd call him incompetent is if you're just seething
If she was actually in crypto bc she cares about the tech she'd probably know how a validator works
Normally these are gonna be super short but Antoine actually explained trading in such a normie-friendly way it felt like a waste to chop it all out  I think this video could literally teach my mom to trade perps
IIRC we add fluoride to our water bc it's a mining waste byproduct or something and miners got tired of paying to have it disposed of so they lobbied the US govt to put it in the water for "health," so now instead of paying to trash it they get paid for it
This is actually how the entire supplement industry started  "fuck, we seem to have a lot of this magnesium oxide. Anyone want it?"
Play it safe here boys  If you get a 3-day suspension right before the shitshow that's about to go down, you will regret it for the rest of your life  It's time to lock in. You were born to do this. If any of you call less than 3k people retarded losers tomorrow, you're a failure
"De-calcify your pineal gland, f*ggot"  - The Corporation
Might be the first cycle where the people from last cycle and the new entrants just absolutely hate each other  Millenial v zoomer war
I'm cooning out here tbh  Team zoomer all day. Not just bc I need their blood to stay young, I also just think the way they're playing the cycle is way funnier
Racist crystal healing. Bitcoin whales paying to assassinate govt officials who allow flouride in our water supply. Hippies seeing your Kamala bumper sticker and calling you a f*ggot   We are going to make america great again
This single thing is better than anything the last 4 presidents did cumulatively  De-calcify your pineal gland, f*ggot
I'm gonna use like 2% of my Twitter stimmy every year to buy the most expensive android and write it off as a business expense  Levels of NEET never before seen
Why do they have a word for this
I hope we never come together ever in a million years  I hate libtards so much it's insane
She'll kill your squirrel too. You're not special  She'll kill all our squirrels  This is what the communists have been waiting for
Greatest markets in the universe
Enormous mistake ethcels make trying to communicate with zoomers this cycle:  "138% apy" "42% yield" Etc  Zoomers do not actually have any idea what this means  They think in multiples  2x, 5x, 100x, etc
Cryptocurrency is a market inefficiency
I think everyone can agree with this one whether they're for or against it
Stop derisking you retards just hedge  Increase position size Place more orders Accelerate your margin
Murad's avatar is one of the most horrifying things on this website  I can't even tell if I like him or not bc I hate his avatar so much it's clearly impacting my perception
This line was so hard when I was 11 but as an adult I think it may actually be the single gayest quote in the universe
Don't think we've left the office before midnight in a month  Greatest job in the universe
All you need to make ten million dollars is a positive mindset
Felt like an easy call   It's up massively but if trump wins, it goes to zero. If Harris wins it also goes to zero tho
TRADING GOD LUKAS WITH ANOTHER CRUSHING VICTORY   I am the greatest perps trader in the universe. I lose slightly less than all other traders, placing me easily in the top 99.98th percentile
I'm black
Political tweets do truly attract the dumbest retards on this entire site  Post "I think you should financially position yourself such that a Kamala victory doesn't result in you instantly losing $2M" and 40+ political analysts go wow fuck you dude I thought you liked trump
Meeting with the boys in fifteen minutes to shred our wives mail-in ballots  We're pretty sure the abuse and threats would've been enough, but when the fate of America's on the line you can never be too careful
I think you have to be positioned for a Kamala victory here regardless of who you actually think wins  If Trump wins, it simply will not matter how you're positioned. Every coin goes insane and we all make ten billy in a day  If Kamala wins, there are actually a lot of ways you can instantly lose everything. Like, I really don't think you wanna be heavily allocated to Solana in the case of a Kamala victory. Mid-long term I think bitcoin is bullish either way tho
And no, "positioning for a Kamala victory" does not mean stabling out, and if this is what you were thinking of let me know so I can uninvite you to all our events at devcon
Ethereum 🤝 Kamala Harris  Going down on you no matter how unlikely it seems
I'm about to say the most hated thing of all time   But Kamala winning may be the only thing that can save ethereum  Trump victory means zero crypto taxes, every coin declared unilaterally not a security, Solana ETF in 2 weeks, etc  Kamala victory means none of that. The only coins allowed are the ones that are already approved  This would effectively make eth the only legal altcoin via the ETFs  That sounds extremely bleak, but the upside is: this means Kamala victory = literally impossible  Eth is divinely preordained to continue its journey to absolute zero  No future that opposes its quest to drill through every support level in existence may come to pass
That last part is pure cope btw  Ethereum can absolutely still go to zero even with everything in existence trying to stop it, including total libtard victory   It's been ignoring bullish catalysts for the last 2 years. There's no reason it would stop now
There's a very real chance they've decided to just steal it so blatantly it's actually undeniable and then say "yeah we stole it, what are you gonna do bitch"
The main usecase of Ethereum is selling
If you're in Solana, pivot to USDT
I have never emotionally manipulated anybody and if you keep spreading rumors saying otherwise I'm going to kill myself
Raccoons are indisputably better animals than squirrels  But will they trade at higher prices?  No.  Could they offer better returns to smart investors, though?  Also no.  Sometimes the market is gay
Study egirl wallet naming
Asian barbers CRUSH and EVISCERATE black barbers while charging EVEN LESS and finishing the cut 4X FASTER   If HAIRCUTTING was a RACE WAR this would be classified as GENOCIDE
This was tweeted from a place of EXTREME SEETHE after I decided to allow the ONE black person in ALL OF TAIWAN to cut my hair and he FUCKED MY SHIT UP  ONE WEEK before I meet like 10k of you at Devcon  UNFORGIVABLE  SUBMITTING MY KKK APPLICATION AS WE SPEAK
GRAND WIZARD LUKAS REPORTING FOR DUTY  The reason we wear the hoods is to COVER OUR HAIR that got FUCKED UP by AFRICAN BARBERS
My wife knows it's best she votes for Donald Trump...   Or else.  Welcome to MAGA country, bitch
Crystal healing works but the crystal is meth
I just signed a 1-year lease with 2 zoomers who stay up 20 hours a day rugging coins  Anyone who buys something I promote these next few months deserves everything they get
It would be really funny if after writing 500 viral tweets about white guys who date asian girls and how they're losers I decided to get an asian gf
I was doing psyops to free up the good ones. Now that you all dumped the wife material asians I'm buying the bottom  Thanks for playing
Gigabit ethernet costs fourteen dollars a month in Taipei
Kook is a genius and everyone who's ever fudded him is dead now
No surprise the month of the incel is also the Scorpio birthmonth
If you use one of those polarized phone screen protectors literally everyone assumes you masturbate at work
I let her hit bc I knew she wouldn't cum
It's usually fine and sorta endearing when guys are corny but when women are it's one of the most repulsive things in the entire universe
Difference between a normal dad and a female comedian
Total Gooner Death
AI completely changed my life  I have not lost a relationship fight since the voice recorder app started letting me transcribe and search the files  "Oh.. I guess you did say that. My bad"  Back to normal
I told my gf it was No Nut November and she asked why I thought that would impact her
When presumptuous women online ask "who hurt you?", I find it difficult not to laugh so hard my fedora falls off my head  Despite this, I still empathize with their feeble minds. Before I read 'The Rational male' by Rollo Tomassi, I too could've asked something this embarrassing  But that was in the past  Now, I understand (just as Rollo Tomassi does) that the only person who can hurt you..  Is yourself
No Nut November is pride month for incels and we're canceling any company that doesn't change their Twitter logo to this like what libtards did with the black square
Everybody who says "I'm not an egirl" is an egirl, nobody who says "I'm a sociopath" is sociopathic and 100% of people who tell you they're good and normal are actually pure evil
The main usecase of crypto is being early
If any of you cum this month I'm going to block you
I surround myself with the strongest of women
Howamt coins have you launched in the last month?
So tilted I graduated from wanting to punch drywall to wanting to punch windows
This bitch is a crashout generator
If kook doesn't work with OX I'm going to cut off my right hand
The OX player strategies are actually a really good product. Too bad it's literally impossible to explain them to anyone
Honey is everything okay I noticed you haven't logged in and claimed your daily one dollar OX credit bonus
You're lucky it's only white people  When you piss the Asians off enough they go community-cop mode they use automatic weapons
What if every single normie decides they're bored of dog coins afyer 2021 and they all buy the hippo one instead
The new binance PNL cards look pretty sick
I groomed her into leaving her bedroom and getting a job
Threadguy leaving LA to live in the OX Taipei house with us marks the picotop of all cryptocurrencies  I'll see you at zero  Use my ref code to short the way down
Voting should be illegal
If you've ever made even a single dollar gambling, it's because you are a genius  Never give up
It's quite shocking seeing influencer-spaced engagement threads and then reading the text and having it be like  "THIS IS EUGENE  HE RAPED 15 WOMEN  HERE'S HOW 👇🧵"
Finally restarting the OX MEDIA YouTube  Recording another podcast with GIGA in a few hours  I didn't sleep, nico didn't sleep, tiger probably thinks he slept but if you checked his heart rate during the "sleep" I guarantee it never dropped below 120  Great stuff coming
What I lack in skill I attempt to make up for through the sheer hostility of my edits
"Wikipedia editors officially..." in front of literally anything is absolutely onion-tier
My trading battle vault stakers are absolutely euphoric over the 0.7% gains I've bestowed upon them
What if bitcoin never comes back down to your levels again  What if you're locked out forever, waiting for a price that never comes   Are you prepared for that possibility?  Or would you be suicidal forever?
Ethereum was the first and last "shitcoin"  Every token launched since has been somewhere between a goodcoin/greatcoin
Trump is a reasonable man. The libtards can choose:  Prison Or mars  A life rotting away in filth or a beautiful communist utopia on the red planet  I think it's an easy decision  Get in the rocket, libtard
It's so funny how having just one social media platform not fully controlled makes it all so obvious  In 2016 they just had all the tweets about this stuff censored too  They can't do that now so it's just this super obvious desperate flailing
What happens under the WAGMI lights stays under the WAGMI lights
I told you  That girl started an entire backlit pussy meta  Study innovators. Study the builders
If you told anyone in 2020 that sol would onboard zoomers to bitcoin they definitely would've called you a retard on the spot
When Bitcoin breaks 300k Trump celebrates by nuking India
He does it again at 400
At 500 he skips it and does Canada instead
If you've ever had sex with your wife and not made her cum at least 30 times it means you are evil. This is why we need feminism
ABOVE 70K THE CAPS LOCK STAYS ON
Amazing coin
IF I HAVE LESS THAN TEN BILLION DOLLARS BY THE END OF THIS CYCLE I WILL CUT MY EARS OFF ON A LIVESTREAM  SCREENSHOT THIS
WE'RE GONNA PUT GARY GENSLER BEHIND BARS
GARY GENSLER: QUADRIPLEGIC
EVERY 1K BITCOIN GAINS I VIBRATE 10X FASTER  BY MY CALCULATIONS I GAIN THE ABILITY TO PHASE THROUGH WALLS AT 80K  THE FEMALE RACE SHOULD PREPARE THEMSELVES
ORANGE MAN 🤝 ORANGE COIN  WE ARE GOING TO FIFTY TRILLION
TOTAL BOOMERCOIN DOMINATION  RESPECT YOUR ELDERS
THE ONLY PROOF THAT MATTERS:  PROOF OF WORK PROOF OF GRINDSET PROOF OF LOCKING THE FUCK IN  PROOF OF STAKERS: PREPARE TO BE FINANCIALLY DISMEMBERED  YOUR SINS WILL BE CLEANSED BY GOD
EVERYONE WHO FADED BITCOIN UNDER 60K GETS WHAT THEY DESERVE
HARDEST ASSET IN THE UNIVERSE  COILED TO PERFECTION  80K -> 3 MILLION  FUCK YOU GENSLER
Bathroom sauna mogs so insanely hard
LEVERAGE TRADING FOR THE ELDERLY: A GUIDE TO MAKING FAST MILLIONS WITH ZERO RISK!*  - Create an account on ox dot fun (use referral code "lukas" for lower trading fees. Other exchanges won't work, this is the only one you can make profit on)   - 2x long Solana and BTC on red days  - Sell when you screenshot to brag  Congratulations, future billionaire  *I am not a financial advisor, I am a mentally retarded scammer. This is not financial advice. It might not be fast, either, and it definitely is not risk-free. You shouldn't let that deter you, though. Life is all about managing risk. The wealthiest men on the planet expose themselves to more risk than the average person is capable of comprehending. Risk is your friend  I believe in you and so does God. Good luck. Remember to call your mom
enough of you sign up I'll buy a huge gold bar and carry it around at conferences and whoever robs me can keep it
> Somebody asked a technical question about ethereum
I realized I should stop dating when an e-friend said "dude this girl's bf just hasn't replied to her in 4 months and she's going absolutely insane, check her Twitter out" and he sent her account and it was my gf
Milady will break 1000 eth easily but you don't wanna know what the eth price will be when it happens
😭😭😭
Very skeptical Chinese landlord spent 4 hours asking me 500 questions attempting to confirm I had enough money to pay for the lease as her daughter screamed  "YOU DON'T NEED TO VERIFY HIS FUNDS! YOU ALREADY HAVE THE MONEY! HE PAID UP-FRONT IN CASH! SIGN THE PAPERS, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO HIM?? Why are you doing this to ME!? LET ME GO BACK TO WORK"   I'm so in love with her it's insane
I got her WhatsApp
If you're locked in trading Solana memecoins  Unlock for ten minutes  Call your mom  And use referral code "lukas" to register on ox dot fun after you tell her you love her  Use the fee reduction my unfairly incentivized reflink gives to buy her something nice for her birthday
Creating the most convoluted financial instrument in the history of the human race to let your users hyperspeculate on the most volatile assets in existence and then using it to long a 1% bitcoin move
Vibes
I'm not sure I've ever been this hungover before
Goat is a gay coin name
The concensus on crypto Twitter is that Vitalik being assassinated would be bearish for 12 hours before becoming the greatest pump catalyst in the world
Still hammered  Time for work
"well I guess that's not stable"
God is giving me ten million virgins in heaven for ignoring her (but he's taking fifty million away for what I did after)
Avrip Lavigne and kesha only
Chinese woman are simply too low iq to comprehend what I am wl saying to them
Hammered for secret reasons
Finally the CEO has enough followers I can interact with him publicly without his disgusting lowbie presence tainting me
Just renegotiated my salary at @OXFUNHQ for a 20% increase  All I had to do was agree to lock it until the OX price hits $5
Women are a lot worse at defending themselves than I realized
If I was somehow forced to act my age for more than thirty minutes I'd commit a dramatic public suicide
Hey cortana reply to Adam Cochrane with a violent threat that's subtle enough to avoid detection by Twitter's moderation algorithm
I love crystal castles just as much as the next guy who dated exclusively lesbians in highschool but it's very obvious the part of my brain that enjoys this music is transsexual
Potentially my least relatable tweet of all time
So I found the office supply cabinet
Lmfao
Silence, engineer. An ideas guy is speaking
Saturday evening office view
Almost $140MM volume on @OXFUNHQ yesterday  Not too shabby IMO
Going from  getting yelled at for shilling your product to people  to  getting yelled at for not shilling your product to people earlier  It feels good, but man. You really cannot win
I think this does't actually happen that much  I know multiple girls who make like $30 a month on their OF and they just lie and tell people they're making like 5k  If someone lies enough about a thing they start actually believing it so they all eventually think they're 9s still
There's a certain critical mass of Indians you can have at a company where it instantly transforms from "a company with some Indians" to "INDIA: THE COMPANY"  It's extremely noticeable  They form up into these circles where they talk to each other in their Indian language, when you walk by them in the hallways they all stop talking the instant they see you and just silently stare at you until you pass and they start trying to change all your internal policies to make it impossible to hire anyone new who isn't related to them in some way
When you hang out at most companys offices and see what they actually do all day it usually destroys your opinion of them immediately. This is why I knew Boeing planes would explode 10y before they did  From the outside, they're a plane manufacturer  Inside?  They're India
Osmotically absorbing 3AC trading wisdom by sitting next to Su and Kyle every day
If banks don't need stop-losses, why would you?
Referral code lukas
I don't even close out my eth shorts anymore I just tell people it's a "hedge"
This is insane
Kyle taught me how to use limit orders and suddenly I understand how 3AC made so much money
These threads are good fear porn but everyone knows the "cats give you toxo" meme by now  The lesser-known version is that the leading source of toxoplasmosis infection in the US is people eating vegetables they didn't wash properly (feral cats shit in the dirt they grow in)
Bruce came to Taipei and refuses to eat with anyone unless they get burger king or texas roadhouse  He's like some cartoonish parody of an American but he has the world's strongest British accent and it just makes zero sense
India's the only country that could be mass-nuked by the entire world and actually be better afterward
I will change our avatar 5 times per day until everyone stops yelling at me
Sort of a dumb theory bc "libertarian" is the single ideology that makes women sleeping with a guy most unlikely
I fell in love with her when she rugged her telegram group for twelve million dollars
Me in six months after I gain another half a Norwood level
Who wants stickers?
What if I added a slight gradient...
Despite the Solana users theoretically being massive retards they all know to swap through aggregators, use MEV protection etc while the eth gigabrains just get sandwiched through the uniswap front-end all day
401gay
"I'm not an investor in anything" - rasmr
Bruce sleeps just like I do, facedown and completely unmoving. The two of us together can easily fit in a single twin-sized bed
Kamala was designed in a Kenyan lab by Obama's team of Muslim scientists  They committed crimes against humanity by combining the most globally hated races (black/indian) in the body of the most evil of all genders (woman) to create the least likable being in all of existence
Has anybody tried natural intelligence yet
528hz grounding beads
Imagine falling
I was groomed into loving God
My conservative parents groomed me into being embarrassed to have some other guy fuck my girlfriend while I watch but I'm trying to work through it
Muscular guys always get people coping over how "they probably don't have functional strength" but I've never seen someone autistic enough to say this to one of those lifter girls
It's funny how this is completely obvious but everyone pretends it's only one or the other
It's been like five years of crypto AI research and the main difference is the "artificial intelligence" went from being Indonesian to Singaporean
Recently saw a picture of myself when I was 19 and was like "wow I looked awesome back then, really embarrassing I let STEMcelism bully me out of it" and decided fed to run it all back
Taipei is building
Bizarre slow-motion bird
I've seen this like 50 times today and I thought it was AI every single time  Then I saw Trump posting it and I was like "oh my god!! - he reposted the AI meme!!" and everyone called me a retard
Gave shawty this vape I found on the ground and she's been skipping everywhere all day
If I ever make 7m/month you better believe I'll be shilling the most unbuyable dogshit in the entire universe  Straight-up 20k mcap shitter spamposting streak. It will be the least honorable moment of my life
DUE diligence??  More like DON'T diligence 😹😹😹
Everybody knows ox dot fun has the greatest liquidity in the universe
Aella's remarkable because she says things completely seriously that even the femcel satire accounts here couldn't bring themselves to post as jokes
It's honestly a huge mog  Everyone notices the "satire accounts" who only post satire that makes them sound cooler than they are but magically can't find any comedic value in jokes that get them called a loser  Aella's existence basically shines a huge spotlight on them
Donald Trump is going to win the election and force all the girls who lost their email jobs in the Biden economy to date incels for minimum wage
State mandated e-gfs
I'm allowed to shill 100k mcap coins as long as I don't have at least 100k followers right  Current meta is 1 follower per mcap ya?
Slow down retards I didn't finish the dca
My legs fell asleep tweeting on the toilet and I'm trapped in somebody's hotel bathroom
They also do the thing where they go "your muscles won't matter when I randomly shoot you"
Libtards genuinely don't understand the only version of "eugenics" people disliked was the one where you killed people. "Hitler word bad!!"  Nobody actually cares about incentivizing smart people to reproduce more or screening embryos that would grow up to be retarded/disabled
Alright  We're back
"Prostitution is mostly caused by poverty" is sort of insane as a talking point because the only reason anyone works any job at all is also avoiding poverty
Republicans have this catch 22 where legalizing prostitution would be a massive optics problem but if they did it they'd instantly steal half the men from the democrats bc guys don't have to pretend to believe a bunch of insane shit to get pussy anymore if it's going for $25/hr
When I learned "legal prostitution" was the most gender-polarizing issue in progressive circles it all clicked  That's the reset button
Wait, are there people who do it with intentions
Nice
FLCL OST 1-3
People love using reply raids to measure community strength  It mostly works, but you'll miss a lot of obvious winners. You don't need to tell people to buy when the thesis is self-evident  The lack of people shilling bitcoin in my replies isn't bc its going down  If a project still has a large community of high-visibility users after years, it's going to infinity whether or not they beg you to buy  Actually, the ones that never tell you to buy are going to triple infinity
Any random sadboy can make himself fake cry to deathcab or bon iver but only true empaths can light it up to the illenium album
Going home (Taipei, Taiwan)
Infinite send
The market does not have enough leverage for my sentiment atm  "Love" pales in comparison to the emotion I am feeling for bitcoin right now
Get long. You're gonna wanna be long for this part
It's diet coke
I'll believe the AI shitposter accounts can actually post well when they stop needing to tell everyone they're AI to get all the techies to insta soy-follow
TELEPORT SEASON
Are you ready
It may be true men resent female authority in elementary school and social media allowed them to preserve that energy - but the idea this is the primary factor in democrats failing to attract young white men is incomprehensibly retarded
This is shit-talking, not actual political commentary  I thought everyone knew that, but the attempts to do targeted demographic outreach this election made me realize many people actually believes the projections they do of other groups for dunk-tweets
"hello. Would you like to increase followers w-"  No. I tweet about cryptocurrency sometimes, I already have way more non-engaging functional bot retard followers as-is  Try catfishing me instead, it's a much easier in
The service worker meme about "our jobs are so hard!! We really deserve tips!" actually used to be true, but things changed a LOT and they just kept saying it hoping you wouldn't notice  American service has literally never been shittier and they expect like 40% minimum now
My 20-hour travel time has magically expanded by an additional 4 days through the power of chain cancelations  At this point, it's clear I'm going to die in the airport  I've made peace with it  My only wish is to see the @OXFUNHQ team one last time before my death at the air-DMV
I tried to destroy trump's chances of winning 2024 by shooting out his earlobes and making everyone think he was a f*ggot with gauges but I missed a teensy bit and now everyone thinks he's a patriot hero who survived "assassination"
The "you gotta agree with women on everything or they won't have sex with you" bros are gonna be so epically mindblown in 2047 when they finally get up the courage to  have an opinion of their own and the outcome debunks their entire worldview
You were an amazing friend to me for 7 years. It's unfortunate you had to go and fuck it all up with that one extremely retarded thing you said that I'll never forgive you for
The "zoomers" are all "crashed out" from "gooning" too hard 🤣🤣🤣
Oh you hope I step on a Lego?? Well I hope you step on a landmine and get vaporized instantly. Retarded millenial f*ggot
"You should leave business partners on read sometimes while you reply to 22yo egirls"  Su Zhu, The Art of War
A secret life-hack is that you should always be making infinite money. Su zhu wrote about it in the art of war
Kamala's voice is so bad it's gonna singlehandedly counteract ten billion mail-in fraud-ballots  The American people are making it clear they'll perform acts of genuine magic to prevent themselves to being subjected to this disrespectful warbling any longer
I love bitcoin so much it's insane
The zoomers were too busy speculating on which derivative hippo coin would be "moo deng beta" to notice bitcoin breaking 260k
Rasmr told me to log on and check out his bangers so I go to his profile and it's just 20 tweets coping over the five million dollars he lost on his Chinese hippo coin this week
First time missing a flight cuz I tested positive for bombs  They swabbed everything in my bag and it all flagged as some explosive so they kept swabbing it for like 3 hours till the tests started coming back clear  They told me "that just happens sometimes"  Unnerving
So apparently Verizon just sucks ass now and T-mobile is better in pretty much the entire country but nobody knows bc of how fast mobile upgraded its network
Lock in by October 27th  Final warning
If this doesn't get you rock hard you needa get your T levels checked out bub
The day I come back to Taiwan, bitcoin is breaking 69k and never going below it ever again
18 hours of watching him be vicisected by a backalley Taiwanese "surgeon" as his girlfriend shrieks in terror ASMR
At a certain point "patience" and "no self-respect" become sorta indistinguishable as traits
I have three black friends
One is @gianinaskarlett
This is like the most minorly offensive common male statement of all time. If you can't pull it back from this you're simply destined to die a virgin
It's insane how "retard energy" has become implicitly right-wing, and also that this has largely been a cultural victory
The blackchain
The throat cancer allegations are completely unfounded
50% of my tweets make Marc Andreesen follow me and 50% of them make him block me and the only thing determining which it is on any given day is the whimsy of the algorithm. Acceleration towards a superposition. The future is beautiful and also very confusing
The idea you uniquely have to protect black cryptocurrency investors is more racist than anything I've posted in my entire esteemed career of racist tweets
Is we gettin a supercycle  ⁉️
Salana goin to a million bros
"the grifters are out, dude! And chads are in!"  "but I'm in. And I'm selling as soon as it stops pumping 2% every time I tweet the ticker"
Rare Amazon review shitposting
At this point the only explanation that makes any sense is "threadguy's fucking his hairdresser"
Just said "thanks, queen" out of habit to the Indian Verizon store rep and thought I was gonna get another sexual harassment complaint till I saw the look she gave me
UNSTOPPABLE FORCE VS IMMOVABLE WALL  PRESIDENT DONALD TRUMP VS THE INFINITE DOWNWARD PRICE ACTION OF THE ETHEREUM BLOCKCHAIN  THE FATE OF ALL CRYPTOCURRENCY LIES WITH THE WINNER OF THIS GENERATIONAL SHOWDOWN
Plug in all the USBs you find in the parking lot. Rawdog the stripper. Tell the dumb bitch from the bar your real name this time. Take more uncalculated risks  God is real and he either wants to protect you or teach you an important lesson
Everyone who taught me how to trade is gradually realizing how badly they fucked up
The way YouTube handles subscription benefits is beyond petty  They don't just make people listen to ads, they force them to leave their screen on and waste phone battery if they wanna continue listening to the audio  Just learned about it, I'm honestly floored. Totally evil
Taking every fiber of my being to resist bullposting right before the Monday open
I have so much PTSD I'm actually looking at the charts rn and telling myself it could just be another fakeout
What am I even looking at  Can we teleport Asian planes now?
Will ethereum ever be worth more than 3000 dollars again?
My parents were too objective and data-driven when I was a kid so I rebelled by believing that special rocks let me see the future and ivermectin cures cancer
100% of the people who hit you up like "omggg it's been so long!! whyd we even stop talking!?" know exactly why you stopped talking
It's insane how people still don't realize that going online and saying "x is the best/hottest/smartest person in the world" is just begging the entire internet to dunk on whoever they're complimenting  I don't think there's been a day this year without some boomer dad posting about his hottest wife in the universe to a crowd of 50+ random teenagers calling her old. At this point I'm starting to think they're doing it on purpose
Whenever somebody's unfamiliar with a basic part of cryptocurrency I refer to them as a "Solana user" the same way Americans use "low-information voter" as a euphemism for
Watching bitcoin and spx finally break out of their god-forsaken ranges is enough to bring a tear to my eye  I've got a fair bit of experience in god-forsaken ranges and very little compares to the feeling of leaving those levels behind forever
Obviously the night I consummated my marriage by creating a son is an exception
The daughter too, I guess
The Solana guys still don't know about su zhu
Nothing is more disgusting than when I can tell someone hates me and they suck up to me anyway  Either be competent enough to hide the hatred better or grow a pair and admit it. You can't be incompetent AND a pussy, it is simply too pathetic
The main benefit of these bartending robots is that they'll force all those bar venter people to face the reality of their own loserdom as venting to a robot is 100x more humiliating than venting to a person
The timeline is so euphoric I'm starting to become genuinely scared
The prison sex is all concensual and you just gotta pretend it was rape when you get out or people call you a f*g
How did everybody get a Solana in February
Long ago, before the mayflower arrived in the US, men and women roamed freely - unmolested by modern technology  Men still had their hair, women still weighed less than men and every living organism was mewing daily  It's no wonder we had to cheat and use guns to kill them all
Women are renowned for their complex myriad of powerful emotions. There was simply no way I could've predicted she'd react like that
Had a feeling that banger about 8K resolution close-up pussy pics would reel my boy in
Gf left me for no reason today  I tried to argue with her at first, but soon realized I didn't actually care either way  "Wait, you're right. We should end it  I genuinely enjoyed this and I'll love you forever. Goodbye."  I went back to tweeting She went back to crying  Awkward
She's still there looking at me  Didn't have a problem with her looking so much when we were dating but things are different now and my boundaries have changed. She should respect that   I'm going to give her a friendly warning before I get the police involved
In a post-wall society, the ability to look a cooked low-mid right in the eye and tell her she looks beautiful today is more powerful than every nuclear bomb in the world
Debt-free virgin with no tattoos
Is it actually racist to say you prefer pink nipples  I feel like there's gotta be at least one black girl with 'em out there but I can't say for sure cuz I don't date em
Dumped for trying to dye her nipples pink while she was sleeping
She made her coin go up so much I'm the sub in our relationship now
*nothing changes*
We have to start removing utility from Ethereum until it starts going up again  It's the only way
I taught him about sexual harassment
"I'm waiting for confirmation to start scaling in"  "when's your confirmation"  "Range highs, maybe the old ath"
3 day ban for requesting closeup pussy pictures that violate ToS by being 8k - which is 4k higher than the maximum resolution of pussy pictures allowed in the discord server
One of the most insane things ever was zoomer guys getting locked in their bedrooms for like ten years during covid and then all women in the US unionizing to deny them sex unless they posted the black square  At least 30% of those guys grow up to be shooters
Oh my god I accidentally made her pussy *too* wet and I can't feel anything at all
Everybody forming a circle around Murad like he's a groundhog on geojndhog's day to see if he attacks the cult coin on TGE or accepts it
Here lies dril  He was shot by three transsexuals simultaneously after epically trolling a whole speedrunning server by turning on "slow mode" during Amphetamine Thursdays  May god bless his eternal soul
I have no idea what at least 50% of the words I use here mean
Wow, your art is beautiful. Have you considered making it an nft? You could make six dollars and destroy your reputation forever
You can definitely save her but realistically it's not worth the time/resource investment  The ideal future you just imagined with her was admittedly beautiful tho
I assume every time I get sick it's a new strain of covid  Chinese been cooking hard. Gotta be on at least strain 16 by now
Imagine how low eth would be rn if the cult pre-sale didn't lock up half the circulating supply
Ironically dating her for a psyop designed to trick female onlookers into believing in love
Yeeep  That one's definitely gonna get infected
Always bizarre when the Women in Tech scream about how we need a female touch to onboard female users before running an ad campaign so poorly-targeted it actually gains the company less female users than whatever the autistic engineers would've done
At some point you rly do need to just say "enough is enough"  I have an extremely high tolerance to whores but even I gotta admit there's a line where it does objectively make society imposssible
Why's that dude needa have sex with his wife a month after childbirth  Didn't they already fuck like 10 months ago to make the kid? I assumed he'd be bored of it for at least another 60 days
Millennials had to be circumcised so the zoomers who came after them could know the joys of an intact foreskin
Egirl turf wars
I don't respect any woman who has less followers than me  How do you expect anyone to love you if you can't get more followers than an anonymous man with a cartoon picture  Your selfies are worth less than gay jokes. You have failed completely as a woman
If you guys knew the indicator I used to pull 59.5 outta my ass you'd never take anything I said seriously again
12 HOUR FLIGHT AND I GOT THE WHOLE ROW  OH MY GOD  TOTAL VICTORY
Somehow the white women who visit Japan for tourism are even more fucked up than the white guys who do
No Asian country has goofier-looking expats than Japan. The white people in Taipei and China actually looked so normal I forgot what the goofball japan-worshippers look like
Would rather starve to death than beg someone for three dollars over cash app
Why did we teach the Solana users how to buy on leverage
There's a level of mental illness that's actually impossible to fix with modern medicine bc every therapist you see goes "I'm sorry, but talking to you fills me with existential despair and I have to end this. I'll refund you in full, but just please never contact me again"
Modern UX should make your users feel scared. Scared and confused  Fear is good. It means they care  The users crave excitement. Don't disappoint them
Last year whenever I used a competitor's product I'd be like "holy shit, we are SO fucked"  But something changed the last few months and now whenever I try other stuff out I'm like "oh my god, we are going to make ten trillion dollars. I always knew the supercycle was real"
It seems the devs did something after all
So old people stopped looking at me weird when my girl calls me daddy in public bc they just assume I'm her actual father
ok retiring the zachxbt account   spending too much time here  maybe back next cycle  same plan for my bags  glhf
When you find out a crypto girl is a massive scammer, it makes her:
I let her hit bc I tracked her Solana wallet and found out she rugged me before
When guys say "I married my best friend!!" and it's not a man, it's somehow gayer than if it was
Last year we tried to raise a sponsorship round for the supercycle (real) podcast and every single person we approached ghosted us  Today we closed five million even though we turned away over half the investors bc we found tweets from 2+ years ago where they called us gay
"insider information" in crypto means like "I track the wallets of seven mentally retarded people with cartoon profile pictures and they all bought this coin two minutes ago"
And then the guy telling you this is wrong like 80% of the time and they're actually just completely random wallets he found through the divine machinations of schizophrenia amphetamines and 4 days without sleep
The coin still goes up 1500%
There's no point lying about your height to get girls on Twitter bc when you meet up with a Twitter girl the first thing she does is take the tape out of her purse to measure you
I am the only Chinese influencer with the courage to speak exclusively in English
Last year CT was debating whether it was ethical for an account with 10k followers to shill coins under 10 mil mcap but now it's broadly accepted that refusing to shill tickers under 30k mcap means you simply hate your followers and want them to be poor forever
Imagine going to prison for like 4k of tax evasion
(you don't have to imagine)
Study Thursdays
Sui's been going $loopy lately
If an exchange's employees aren't shilling at least three new sub-30k mcap tickers per day it's extremely bearish
Millennials were basically a sacrificial generation  They had to be ground to paste in such a horrifying way the zoomers watching got scared out of all that retard shit and force-pivoted civilization to save us all from the brink
Run it back with minimal tripping
The level of shit shkreli gets is actually comical  He can say literally anything and there's just an army of people telling him to kill himself
Did BDB stop tweeting for the 6 months of chop and just come back now to signal the coming of The Second Leg or did the Asian algo bubble just stop showing me his stuff cuz his eyes were too wide
If the LIBTARD MEDIA convinced everyone bitcoin's creator was gay we would actually go to zero
18 months till every cryptocurremcy influencer pivots to being a prison abolitionist
If you try and fix him he's gonna get really mad and throw his ps5 controller at you
He's gonna miss but it'll still hurt your feelings
I don't think there's been a single Thursday open you wanted to be long for in the last like 6 months. Thursdays are financially cursed. If Gary gensler actually cared about us he'd ban all US trading on Thursdays
One more generational nuke then up only
Don't listen to me I am literally the worst trader in the universe
If thousands of you hadn't used the referral link in my bio to trade at ox dot fun I would literally be homeless right now
My girlfriend left me bc I refused to stop farming the berachain testnet for an airdrop after 24 months
It can, but also 80% of people who get it do insanely retarded things that make them look like monsters/aliens and then spiral by doubling down on said retarded things until they become totally delusional and develop unprecedented levels of body dysmorphia  So I just tell everyone it's bad  The 20% who know how to do it right just ignore me anyway bc they either get what I'm doing or assume "he only thinks that cuz he only notices plastic surgery when it's super fucked up"
Sell everything you own and buy as much bitcoin as you can afford
Do it on leverage at ox dot fun. Use the referral link in my bio
One week of lifting seriously again and we're back at 3pl8 on bench  2025 is the year of the revenge pump
Things get freaky when we reclaim 4  Coming for you nico
Moving to Asia on a whim was certainly fun and spontaneous of me but the airport parking lot I flew out of just called with a reminder I left my car parked in the short-term lot for too long so I guess they're confiscating it
Study fatman terra
Maybe telling the triple-vaxxed ssri enjoyers they should continue their 60mg daily adderall use through their Olympic training regimen was kind of a dick move
Trust me bro it's safe, there was a study on it, we spent 6 weeks analyzing data that didn't exist yet and a lot of very smart people signed off on it
Guys always blackpill spiral when they read stuff like this if it hasn't happened to them yet but it is ABSOLUTELY in the cards  Just you wait
Go viral -> call 500 people in your replies retarded -> get shadowbanned -> don't go viral for another 4 weeks till it wears off  -> repeat
I am simply too intelligent to get hammered and dance with naked women on a boat
So was Einstein
We should stop calling them memecoins  I'm like 98% sure we can get vcs to buy the top if we just call them "coins" instead. Even "shitters" somehow sounds more investable than "memecoin"
Okay man I'm like the latest adopter of all time and even I hold like 50% of my paper net worth in shitters  I simply refuse to believe there's anyone here who "missed" memecoins
One of the funniest parts about making club smalltalk with girls who don't speak your language is they still mostly laugh and otherwise react like girls who do speak your language. It just drives home how irrelevant the words were in the first place
Vitalik should be in prison  I'm willing to negotiate his release at 4k
I don't know why Asian people even build cars with horns in them  I haven't seen them honk once. When somebody's driving like a retard they just sit there silently waiting for the issue to resolve itself
Admittedly a lot of the personality traits I gained through the trauma of being repeatedly raped are responsible for my current success as an entrepreneur
Thanks, I guess
Hitler was blonde and 6'4 before the jews invented photoshop
He didn't have one testicle he had three
You're alone bc you didn't realize the girl who kept dming you on facebook to ask if you wanted to study for the hs math quiz was trying to have your children
I hired a tall black guy to go around at crypto events claiming to be ansem to prove go my mom the industry I worked in wasn't racist but you all still called him a n*gger
In all fairness I did it too but I was 1.5 beers deep
Nobody knows what "unconditional love" means  They say they love their partner unconditionally and then you're like "would you still love them if they cheated on you and raped your children" and they're like "no, of course not" and then you have to explain what a condition is
People's main disagreement with this is "you're being autistic, I just meant it was unconditional within reason"  But that's just normal love, lol  Everyone's internal definition of "unconditional" is different. Love is confusing enough as is, just say what you mean instead
The funniest thing about everyone in crypto being anonymous is you often get people at Irl events lying about how close they are with people you know extremely well. When they figure out who you are they look absolutely horrified and backpedal at 1000mph
Seems like love
The reason exchanges make people pay 500k+ listing fees is bc all their employees lose 100k/day trading on their own platform
This is my way of letting you know oxfun listing fees will be increasing again after my performance trading last week
This is insane lmfao  "You're Jewish" with almost 100k likes  The Israeli girls are absolutely going to get us holocausted
I've been trying to tell you people
SHUT UP WILL  AAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Coiled
I fell in love with su zhu's sister and she called me a broke white ennword
Tried explaining "I'm not white, I'm Jewish" but she just slapped me  I love her so much more now. I'm going insane
Buying a full 32-foot sheet of drywall so I can punch holes in things while screaming responsibly
I have extremely good news for the seven people who like listening to me ramble for 18 hours straight and extremely bad news for everyone else but I have been approved for an effectively unlimited podcasting budget
Black people used to rap about shooting randoms for fun and now they sing about how slay their g-spot feels with two cocks rubbing it simultaneously
Wearing three layers of noise-canceling earphones just to make absolutely sure I can't hear a single word of the gym's homo rap
Women ushered in an era of incel supremacy in zoomer guys by calling every man they looked up to a bitchless virgin incel  Every month that goes by they view the terms more positively
We get it, you don't like him - but calling the richest man in the world bitchless after he publicly single-mothered everyone's favorite popstar with his 27th child is simply too retarded
The answer to the worm question is no, btw
More like three arrows crapital 🤣🤣🤣
Hmmm... You appear to be experiencing emotional volatility...
I'm chill with the hitler jokes bros please kill me last
Samsung is the greatest company in the universe
Alright I think I can hold it
Women with expensive androids are so hot it's insane
Nothing sadder than watching a girl try to sell her ass when there's just zero PMF
Taipei commute
"Bro there's not enough liquidity on the coin!!"  Chill. It'll have more liquidity when it goes up 10000x
American women have a three day plan to extract 2 $40 meals from you and Chinese women have a fifteen year plan to groom you into a billionaire who kills their brother
Her brother deserves it btw
Why does my first tweet have over one thousand bookmarks
When is your birthday?
Home gyms only work for introverts  Every extrovert I know who's gotten a home gym completely ruined lifting for themselves
We're not even giving an explanation for why it works anymore  Just "I did this insane thing for no reason and it wound up being epic. Nobody knows why. Here's how you can do it too"
SCORPIO SZN 🦂🦂🦂
October is the best month in the universe and all the other months are in absolute shambles
Ansem's main strength is completely unrelated to trading  He's one of the few people here willing to make conviction bets on newbies he likes. He's almost always right and he defends them when they get hate  People remember that when they get big, esp bc it's so rare in crypto
If I learn Chinese I'm gonna be extremely powerful
INFINITE MONEY CAP TABLE 💹
Ansem doesn't even wanna tweet tickers he just does it cuz whenever he stops I threaten to kill myself. Everyone thinks he's a selfish grifter but he's the most loyal friend I have
Everything makes so much more sense after Kyle explained the world is divided into the west/asian axis and the russian/arab/indian one
Telegram groupchat called "trench rapists" with 200 Solana users who spend all day accusing each other of rugging coins as they themselves rip 2% sells on bonkbot
Zachxbt is massive last-cyclecel energy. When you explain what he does to most of the new entrants this last year they just get confused and ask why anyone cares bc they already conceptualize all coins as scams as a baseline assumption
People hate dating now bc they have no reason to date  Men don't need to commit to have infinite sex, women don't need to commit to get paid and neither need kids to support them at 90  Unless you're lonely (loser) or getting an insane deal it usually doesn't make sense
Both sexes are perpetually complaining about how the other side has high standards now  They're both right  If you take away the reasons the average person had for settling down they simply stop doing it
Angel number
Doesn't look like he escaped tbh
Somebody actually managed to giga-tilt me last week and it's been so long since I was genuinely angry I just went around ranting to everyone and basking in the novelty of a rare emotion  My one regret is not being able to post about it. Rant YouTuber Lukas went hard
Nobody actually wants to know who Satoshi is and successfully unveiling bitcoin's creator is one of the few things that could actually rug all of crypto
She's so perfectly mid it makes her the most beautiful woman in the world
1 love 2 brothers 3 arrows capital
Taipei mogs
Come shit with me, son
Extremely embarrassing that he knew
Our Taipei office is the ark  If you don't board before it takes off, your entire lineage will be erased forever  Many cubicles still remain, but time is running out   Better late than dead
There's a certain shade of pee where you see the color and just know instantly you're gonna be fucked tomorrow
Nobody is inside your walls, they've been mandating fiberglass insulation fill the gaps in framing for the last like 60 years and that shit absolutely sucks to inhale
99% chance your opinion on anything in the Middle East is wrong if you can locate a single one of the countries there on a map
The entire timeline thinks the market is reversing bc of a weekend scam pump again
Do you guys rember that guy last cycle who ran up like 400k and then celebrated by getting a gf who took a picture of him and posted it to Twitter without realizing the paper on his desk had his seed phrase
If devs don't hold at least 99% of a coin's supply it means they don't believe in themselves and you shouldn't either
Satan is a gay loser and he's in hell because I killed him
I know how to stop Murad btw
My son got a callback from his audition for the timothee chalamet movie and your son DOESN'T EXIST
Murad is ansem 2
I wasn't lying babe I was doing a novel form of creative writing through a spoken-word medium and it was poetic
Made a very in-depth joke last night where I told a friend I was going to kill the ceo of a marketmaking firm I don't like and realized I needed to recalibrate immediately bc he took it completely seriously and started explaining why it would be logistically challenging
The punchline was that he's going to die
Are the coins good or bad bros I don't even wanna look if they're red
Control
There's a certain level of wealth where it doesn't make any sense to ever drive somewhere under 140mph  If you make 10k/hour the speeding ticket costs are lower than whatever time you lose getting places at legal speeds
:3
Women have to go back to doing the text emojis  ^^, :p, O.o  etc completely mog trash like 🤪🤪🥺
What's the difference between a token burn of 1% and an assassination of "community members" holding a total of 1% of supply
Run it back (with or without consent)
Roll it back wheelchair-mode
Limp it back
Many know Taipei 101 for being the tallest building in the world at the time of construction but few mention it looks exactly like 8 Chinese takeout boxes stacked on top of each other
3AC：去他媽的社區
Fuck the community
Run it back with the investor's consent
Welcome to a Grassroots Nuclear Holocaust, powered exclusively by a storyteller from an alternate reality that sometimes leaks into our own.  Youtube channel for my vids and the Scorchcast: best threads down below:
Did you know that there is a Chinese person for every single American? Out of the 1.4 billion Chinese people in China, 335 million of them purely exist to be crude doppelgangers of American citizens. Every single American has a Chinese copy.   These 335 million Chinese copies live in a massive territory that takes up 1/8th of China, nestled into the vast Gobi desert as a vanity project megacity. It's shaped like the continental United States and they all live in a roughly distributed series of simulacra cities, carrying out the performative fake lives of their assigned copies.  The Chinese tiny fake USA is a tourist attraction that Chinese people all visit during Golden Weeks where they can experience touring through America but safely in a more familiar environment. When the real American counterpart dies or gets deported, the Chinese copy retires from Chinese USA and gets to go back to living in China normally as a regular Chinese person. Some of them are relieved about it, some of them are forlorn about giving up their Chinese doppelganger life. If the Chinese copy dies or something happens to them, another doppelganger is ready to immediately take their place and continue the role uninterrupted.  Chinese people live in a mixture of constant anxiety and anticipation wondering if one day CCP officials will knock on their apartment door and tell them they need to move to Tiny USA because they were next on a list of candidates resembling an American counterpart. They pack their bags, say goodbye to their families and get shipped off to the Gobi desert to live in one of the most technologically advanced amusement parks in the world.  In Chinese Tiny America, the elite impersonators get to live in tour houses at the very forefront of Vegas-like downtown setpieces. They have to work the hardest at acting like their counterparts, usually celebrities or politicians, and have the most interactions with tourists on a daily basis. Most of Chinese Tiny USA is made up of everyday people who merely have to dress like their counterparts and pretend to work fake jobs for a few hours a day. Chinese copies of Americans walk around in setpieces of Shreveport, Louisiana or Cody, Wyoming. Chinese versions of Americans hustle and bustle pretending to work at gas stations or simulating DMV work at miniature downtown Denver, Colorado. None of them speak English, they all babble what their counterparts sound like in a Chinese flavored English sounding gibberish which they learn and develop by studying our conversations through monitoring our lives on spyware hidden inside mobile apps on our phones.  Chinese versions of Americans get nestled into giant cube megabuildings like cleaner versions of Kowloon City. They only get to relax for a few hours in the evening, throwing off their Patagonia vests or wigger hoodies or spandex sports bras or blue jeans or graphic t-shirts so they can settle comfortably into flip flops and sandals onto plastic lawn chairs and eat chicken feet while chain smoking and drinking Tsingtao, just so they can finally feel Chinese at the end of the day for but a brief moment.  This is the abundance of China. They have the manpower, the resources, and the space to replicate all of America and every American within their vast mysterious landmass which is walled off to the rest of the world. It is a place where Chinese people can go pretend to be in inner cities or eat at Dave and Busters without any of the health hazards which present themselves to Chinese people in real America and with none of the pressures Chinese citizens feel when visiting America, such as having to purchase large swathes of empty condominiums, interacting with fried rice takeout restaurant employee reconnaissance agents, or having to download terabytes of files from college university computers.  In Chinese Tiny America anything and everything is possible. Every single American that will ever exist, every single architectural accomplishment, every cuisine, every historical monument, every curated natural attraction, every song, movie, game, book, and staple of experience the United States has to offer, all of it has a little Chinese version to go along with it.   If one day AI and androids become advanced enough to take up this role, the Chinese government will not replace your Chinese bizarro counterpart. Instead, they will create an even smaller miniature America where tiny hamster sized robots wearing doll clothes and fake hair will walk around speaking LLM generated speech based off your personality with perfect voice matching. And then the Chinese government will construct an even smaller Chinese America made up of slightly smaller Chinese robots that are trained on the Chinese doppelgangers to imitate the American robots that live in Tinier America, which is located inside of Tiny Chinese America. And those Chinese impersonator robots will live in an even smaller simulated America, it will be called Tiniest America and it will exist next to Tinier America.   They will do this because it's cheaper than having to dismantle Chinese Tiny America. They will do this because the displacement of 350 million Chinese people will cause massive disruptions to the Chinese economy and job market. But most importantly, they will do this because they can afford to do it. They have the resources, the space, and the budget to have both real fake America and automated fake America that exists purely to be imitated by the automated Chinese Tiniest America. They can do all of it at the same time and furthermore they'll even create tiny robot versions of every normal Chinese person to visit the Tiniest America every year just like the real Chinese people do to Chinese Tiny America. They will do all of this because they can, and because they think it's really funny.  You will never get to visit Synecdoche USA, China. It's only for Chinese people. However, take solace that somewhere inside of it, there's a Chinese version of you doing their best to live the Chinese version of your life. They learn, love, and live alongside Chinese versions of your partners, your family, your friends, your neighbors, your coworkers, and your acquaintances. They imitate your job, they simulate your hobbies, they pretend to eat what you eat, they make themselves cry when you're sad and they force laughter when you're happy. And no matter what happens to you, no matter how low you fall and how high you rise, a Chinese person will always be there with you in spirit.
You still have time to watch Chinese national treasure on this patriotic Milady Film Club movie night. We just streamed a special message from our President.
This is awesome. I don’t know how legitimate it is since he has to eat sleep and take shits at some point, but I’m truly hoping he’s actually suffering full blown babbling delusions and not just screaming for the cameras. There should be more of this, it should be more extreme.  It isn’t enough, it barely touches the ambrosia of torture that streamers should put themselves through for my amusement. I would watch broccoli haired vape sneaker zoomers be trapped inside walk in freezers for five dollars a minute. Not my dollars though, no, someone else’s dollars. I’d watch it for free. I wouldn’t even watch all of it, just a thirty second highlight clip of the best moments, MAYBE one minute if it’s good stuff.  I would watch streamers be tossed inside giant industrial dryers with third degree burns or do challenges where they’re just beaten with logs until they’re unconscious. I would watch them buried alive inside coffins with scorpions while they scream and howl on infrared go pros. I would watch obnoxious little Twitch zoomers be thrown out of helicopters fifty feet above the Pacific Ocean and left there to tread water. I would watch zoomers curled up inside of 3x3x3 boxes with strobe lights and speakers blasting screaming recordings overlaid with Tiny Tim songs at 80 decibels, left there and forgotten about with nothing but a hole for air for 5 days.  I would watch content creators be locked inside of a concrete room with a Bengal Tiger or North American grizzly bear that’s been sufficiently starved, armed with nothing more than a four foot rope and a bicycle horn. I would watch streamers cover themselves in gasoline and thermite paste and run around an arena playing one man dodgeball against five crackheads armed with road flares. I would watch galaxy gas trap beats zoomers on Kick being pushed off three story buildings onto piles of rebar and broken cinder blocks. I would watch influencers get duct taped to the inside of a Monte Carlo and sent into concrete pylons at 80 miles an hour. I would watch streamers get shot out of cannons or welded onto the outside of a MiG-29 and exposed to the atmosphere as it passes Mach 1.   I wouldn’t even watch all of it tbh, barely any of it if I’m being frank. I’d just want to click into a multi hour stream of one of many of these streamers having this kind of shit done to them, like a throwaway excerpt newsreel in Robocop. I just want to have incoherent screaming cut into my life as a comical interjection with a brief glimpse of diabolical torment and a little timer in the corner that tells me it’s been going on for hours, days, weeks. I want it done on scrupulous Chinese platforms that somehow cheat them out of all of their sufferbucks and blood donations, leaving them in some strange convoluted legal debt that engenders them to do further self exploitive harm for no benefit except a mild chuckle from me. It would be like a prison cube where all of hell is condensed onto the brunt of an immortal soul, screaming louder than the universe itself and yet welded so shut that I neither hear nor see nor know of what goes on inside of it. A pocket dimension of pain reduced to the size of a paper weight, barely vibrating and warm to the touch. One of thousands, stacked into piles and buried in a cube of concrete to sink to the bottom of the ocean while they whir and hum against unflinching total absolute constraint. If I knew shit like this was happening to every streamer all the time forever, I would sleep 30% better.
Mentally damaged (involved in politics) women love freaking out about their bodily autonomy because it represents the perfect intersection between subconscious fetishism and the addiction to neuroticism that defines their identity. They lash out against their own biological purpose as a hellish prison in which they must suffer. The prospect of reproduction isn’t a natural part of life’s process to them, it is a hellish imposition.   To the worldly hag, a womb and fetus is a xenomorph, a parasite growing inside of them rather than a beautiful continuation of self and predecessor. It is the gruesome promise of labor, sacrifice, and time which inconveniences otherwise unmitigated indulgence. It stands to reason that someone so filled with petulance for their ancestors, contempt for their parents, and hate for themselves would be horrified to create a copy, especially at the expense of their own body, time, and effort. When even the act of smiling at a coffee shop job is reduced to an economic unit of emotional labor to be stingily withheld by the leftist materialist, a child must seem like a nuclear bomb of unpayable debt.  Yet all this pales in comparison to the psychosexual element of this nightmare fantasy, one which was usefully summarized by the Handmaiden Netflix slop. Essentially, America’s army of mids came forth to proclaim loudly, “Please please please don’t hold us down and rapebreed us!” Over and over again with obnoxious transparency, met with the mildly disgusted indifference of the demographic they demonize.   This country’s most unremarkable women obsess over this idea that we’re tracking their periods, we’re trying to figure out their cycles, that we’re hunting them down and forcing them to reproduce because they can’t conflate the reality of their biological programming demanding fulfillment through genetic self perpetuation with the myriad of social signifiers they’ve been taught to uphold. It creates psychological complexes which become transmogrified into political policy.   The truth is, what actually horrifies these women far more than some elaborate government mandated impregnation fantasy is something far more sinister. It is an apocalyptic torturous fate which has no recourse through delusion or fantasy. There is no romanticizing it or exaggerating it for entertainment, nor is there some True Crime podcast esque morbid indulgence which can be applied to it. The greatest fear made manifest for women of this caliber is to be ignored. It is their nightmare to be totally ignored, dismissed, overlooked, left behind. To be left alone without even any deliberate focus or afterthought, truly just passed by and left to their own babbling. To have everything they care about, everything they present as their identity, belief, concerns, goals, preferences, personality, and purpose all evaporated into dust through the sheer overwhelming void of indifference. It is a horror which is happening to them every day.
The other day I saw this person- not even a person some people aren’t really people, can you believe it? I said I couldn’t believe it but it’s completely true. They’re called HYLLLICS folks, they have no souls. They have no souls AND they’re walking around, talking to you like they’re people. You can tell what they are because of the products they purchase and what their IQ levels are. It’s really terrible, but we’re gonna get em out folks. We’re gonna get em all out and Make America Sentient Again. I know I have a soul, I have a very big soul folks. I talked to God the other day and he said, “Donald, you have one of the biggest souls I’ve ever seen.” I mean it’s unbelievable, really incredible stuff. Other people have small souls- it’s true! I couldn’t believe it but it’s true! You know KAMALLLA, she has a small soul folks. It’s completely true, she’s got a small soul, small brain. Not even a person. Can’t even talk without the earpiece, she’s not the vice president. We got a lot of people here in the audience much smarter than her folks, much bigger souls. Much bigger souls, actually people. You’re all actually people, unlike KAMALLLA and Sleepy Joe Biden- they’re not people! They don’t matter! But you matter. They don’t matter though, and they- and you know- they get put in long lines in the afterlife! I’m not kidding, when they die, they wait in line for a million years *swallows saliva through his gums* before they’re even allowed to see limbo. Before they’re even allowed to see it. And if they wanna come back- and you know they really hate being they’re and they want to go back because they know what’s waiting for them- they have to come back as RRROCKS! Rocks, pebbles, raindrops, pieces of dirt. They gotta spend a LLLONG time coming back as people because of what they did, they know what they did. But they’re gonna be gone now and we’re gonna have a really beautiful epoch folks.
I'd like to point out, Remilia Corporation's entire existence has transpired under a Biden Administration.  You have YET to witness what Remilia can do under a Donald Trump presidency.
God Bless the United States of America.
One of the most concealed, reviled, and avoided truths of human existence in a materialist society built on egalitarian principles is that the value of human life is neither objective or abstractly priceless.  Human life has specific subjective value. Not only are some human lives worth more than others, but some people are more concretely classifiable as human beings than others. There are people that walk the earth which cannot and should not be considered human beings.   These are innately instinctive truths which have been understood about human nature ever since the dawn of civilization. These truths represent horrific disruption to every system of government touted as correct by the amorphous blob which defines western hegemony.  Everything you were taught in school, every movie you were fed, every song you listened to, and every chiding lecture from anyone even slightly important on television has existed to reinforce the message that the value of human life cannot be counted or compared.  And yet, it not only can be, but is calculated to mathematical precision every day by corporations, government agencies, militaries, think tanks, hedge funds, and banking institutions.   Value is a relative concept. Your value to the world around you is exclusively determined by your effect on the world and those in it. Even the most minor ineffectualities by peripheral presence contribute to the great piggie bank of how others see you.  If you are ugly, you have less value than the beautiful because you inflict a sensory burden on those around you.  If you are stupid, you have less value than the intelligent because you are unable to contribute as much and often create problems which smarter people must develop solutions to mitigate.  If you are poor, you have less value than the rich because you simultaneously are far less capable of actionable consequence and autonomy, but you likely inhabit a number of other negativities which compound upon your squalid existence.  Refugees represent an almost exclusive drain upon the society in which they inflict their presence. They are not simply within the category of “immigrant” which is a mixed bag of utility depending on context. They are purely a vague category of disenfranchised and prospectless mouths to feed whose use to society is mainly through the steering of their destination for the purpose of political pandering or to be used as pawns in societal destabilization.  A refugees life is almost certainly worth far less than a ridiculous little waffle eating squirrel, simply through the mathematics of emotional impact that squirrel had compounded through the amplifier of social media. A squirrel that entertained thousands, millions of people will always be worth more than even most human individuals of well repute.   Even a wild squirrel eating an acorn on a tree branch in a park will be worth more for the sole act of making a little girl smile than a smelly pissed stained homeless person on a subway, who has accrued enough collective ire, imposition, and sensory assault on his surroundings that any society would be justified in feeding him into a sluice that processes his mass into fertilizer.  Progressive identity politics ridden grandstanders will cry and shit their pants over the most obvious truths about existence, which they cannot even parse in their schizophrenic slogan built delusion reality where no individual person has value but the category of being “a person” is everything.  “Did he deserve to go to jail just for being loud on the train???”  Yes  “Is your personal stuff worth someone else’s life?”  Much more  “(Random crime) doesn’t mean he deserved to get shot.”  No, his existence already justified it.  This is the world you and everyone actually lives in, one where the localization of your reality dictates value.   I would wipe out the population of three different continents just to save the life of someone I loved and if you disagree I’m a better person than you are.
You have zero recourse against this truth, as you participate in a constant biological dynamic which depends on it. Your existence is founded upon compliance with daily constant horrors inflicted on unseen, unknown, and unthought of people far away.   Your leaders, icons, and the fulcrums of everything which defines the staples of your culture and personality are largely either sadistic pedophiles or beholden to them.   Your food is the product of mass slaughter and geographic desolation, and even if you take great pains to assuage your own conscience at great inconvenience or expense (you should actually just be doing this for your health and quality of life (veganism isn’t healthy or proper, slaughterhouse animals fulfill great destiny by being eaten)), you still depend on an interconnected system which sustains itself through daily holocaust.  This is not a blackpill, it is a great alleviation to those willing to accept minor responsibility through their own existence and acknowledge that both fairness is a delusion and the way things are in life are affected by ecosystems beyond physical reality.  It isn’t wrong to be selfish. Trying to fix things outside of your life and family is the root of the world’s great turmoils. Excessive consideration for the world around you while your own life is in shambles is not selfless charity, it is a great sin which has been responsible for  a number of turmoils inflicted upon the world over centuries. God does not appreciate when you try to do His job.   This is how human beings have lived for hundreds of thousands of years. Revulsion at truth is just the withdrawal symptoms of a society awakening to intuition. Kevin Spacey gets assigned three sacrificial catamites at a year in exchange for continuing to acting in at least one good movie every two years.
*Werner Herzog voice* And so as he scraped the innards of his bulbous totem, in a futile attempt to purge its lining from ghastly tendrils, he realized that more strings were created with each pass of the serrated plastic scoop.  Even the smooth metal spoon did not resolve this problem. Soon he would find out that the pumpkin was made entirely of strings. Its total being was composed of fibers, tightly wound together. In stark horror, he encountered the same realization that man has grappled with for eons: The horror of nature is total and there is no removing it without removing nature itself.
Watching Kamala Harris drone on with her nasal 75 IQ vapid Obamaspeak mystery meat woman vague safe inspiration office jargon over the past year as the storybook villain DEI Mammon of our era’s great narrative unfolding has made me realize something.  It is not simply the bare facts of disenfranchisement that have spurned on young men to reject the gospel of globalism. It is not a simple equation of rejecting spiritual (and literal) castration. It is not merely the most basic reflex that occurs when quality of life, income, and opportunity become strangled into a pipe dream as you face down a short crippled life of impoverished consumption.  No. There is a deep gnawing urge in the heart of man for the delicious forbidden ambrosia of violence, conflict, strife, and turmoil which has dried up in the great drought of plenty.   Humanity craves violence. Humanity benefits from the suffering of others. There is no ultimate utopia where we all have robots do everything, harvest anything we need from errant asteroids, and have AI reduce all of our struggles into aimless Star Trek creative renaissance pursuits of discovery and knowledge.  We thirst for blood. We desire an enemy. We need to step on others to climb higher. There will always be a greater and a lesser. There will always be a nemesis. There will always be a monster to slay, a land to conquer, a deluge to withstand, an conquered to subjugate. There will always be the fundamental force of nature that propels static equilibrium into chaos, a tiny match in the ocean of gasoline sloshing around in your soul, begging, pleading, edging towards the orgasm of spark to engulf it all in flames.  There is an inquisition being held under a neon lit gold glitter cursive slogan embedded in a wall of fake leaves, centered on a high ceiling white wall. Bruno Mars plays quietly on an auxed iPhone, nestled beneath a tip tablet next to pink thermos filled with tap water. It is an office lobby labyrinth haunted by the shambling of Uber drivers and dickless podcast cadence. It is the hallmark of our great millenial dark age, a Tyranny of Perfect Professionalized Casualism.   The inherent femininity of it is itself a red herring, women are simply wielded as its vanguard like captured outskirt villagers being forced by a Mongolian horde to beset upon their own relatives entrenched in a sieged desert palace somewhere in Khwarezm. Your own people, suffering the impalement of arrows by your hand. No, this isn’t feminine. The feminine has its own forbidden hungers and indulgences that are too suppressed by the cult of stagnation. This is the paradoxical promise of immortality through the complete rejection of all that makes you human.  I have seen the glee and fervor in the faces of a rabid mob. I know what excites you people. I know the right flavor of flesh to spurn the disenfranchised into a ravenous frenzy. It is the promise of blood. It is the great disruption of Nothing into a grand terrifying Something. It is true Change, change being the great unspeakable horror that tears down the fabric of your existence and exposes you to its reality until you are rocked to your fucking core and finally learn to appreciate the stability which you spurned. It is the understanding that war is more than cinematic explosive pageantry, but a gray muddy turbofear onslaught of random violence interrupting the steady ongoing uncertain discomfort of waiting, shitting in the dirt, and harvesting moisture from filthy puddles as you run, hide, and die.   Change is the crucible of chaos which reduces all satisfied desire into desperate needs, needs which define purpose and allow for the genuine development of culture through necessity. It is the musical chairs of death, disease, and destruction, a loud violent tunnel with a light at the end promising its survivors a chance to actually define existence once again for their progeny rather than just being helpless bystanders of the past.  You can admit you crave it.
One trillion Jira pushes per second directly beamed into my cornea.  Quantum Entanglement Communicator work gc has me answering queries from civilizations that don’t exist yet.  Our company doesn’t have new verticals, we have several higher dimensional orthogonal directions.  Beaming PowerPoint presentations back in time via caveman shamanic hallucinations to invent language and geometry.  Sophonic managerial hierarchy, I answer to sentient quasars, they report to protons.  HR meetings with God.  DNA ingrained self resolving IT tickets.  We work hard, we play hard, hard play work we, playardorkwe, Rpwedgh, H, •, ∞  The giant autonomous perfect edge floating metal cube has been stealing lunches out of the fridge.  “Remote” work in the astral plane.  Seed round in the Akashic Records.  Dyson sphere overclocking tips the Continuum Council does NOT want you to know!  There is a black hole generator nestled between the 18 limb pedals of my Peloton.  White collar prison crystal matrix.  For some reason we still haven’t moved off Windows 7.  Experience death to birth lifecycle in reverse during new hire orientation.  Palladium lined magnetic field crucible filled with liquid plasma with the phrase “Don’t talk to me until I’ve had my Liquid Plasma” laser etched onto the side.  Crunch sprint has us harvesting the consciousness of distant Type One Kardashev civilizations through UberEats.  Noneuclidian phase shifting corner office only exists three days out of the week.  We just shifted multiple universes into one coherent reality this quarter and yet I still have to wear this gay ass lanyard whenever I’m in the building.  For your Christmas bonus this year you’re allowed to have a new emotion.  Zoom calls in the fourth dimension so we can get every single one we’ve ever had and every single one we’ll ever have out of the way at once.  Sexual harassment staff seminar because someone made eye contact.  Federal audit triggered because someone thought about the future.   “As per my last hivemind meld-“  Token unmodified biological flesh hire  A day in the 1e-(100000^100000)HL.
One of Donald Trump's most iconic aesthetic motifs is his love of McDonald's. Besides the name matching to such a degree that he mantles his identity onto a pseudo mascot for the brand, Trump's love of McDonald's also exemplifies an inherent patriotism which is far more genuine than anything prior presidents could possible manage.   Donald Trump's unabashed enthusiasm for McDonald's is an authentic embodiment of American values which exceeds the sincerity of possibly any president within the past 200 years.  McDonald's is arguably the most relevant symbol of American culture and identity, exceeding that of apple pies, baseball, firearms, bald eagles, and the flag itself. The burger is the ultimate American symbol, a perfect coalescence of the entire food pyramid, an archetypical recipe structure mimicked by nearly every culture, a series of ingredients which span both old and new world domestic staples, and most importantly, a representation of capitalism in its rawest and most efficient form.  Of all burgers, the most quintessential burger is the McDonald's burger. Depending on the nation, this may be the iconic Big Mac, the legendary McDouble, or a number of other creative or hideous country specific concoctions. McDonald's is globally ubiquitous. Nearly every country has a McDonald's. Every McDonald's is like a US embassy establishing its culture mark upon whatever host nation has succumbed to the pure financial incentive of its influence. Armed with the sword of Coca-Cola to cut through whatever culture it has usurped, McDonald's represents the United States in its most robust legacy. Long after our country is shattered, eroded, shifted, transmogrified, or subsumed by the inevitability of the future, our culture and history will be earmarked by twin golden arches mythopoetically attached to our esoteric symbolism as a retrospective coat of arms for the great American Empire.  Contemporary commentators criticize Trump's shameless love of McDonald's as a staple of tackiness, but it is through this love that Trump establishes himself as a sincere American. He truly embraces America in its purest form every time he orders McDonald's or wields it in front of the American populace. He fully dives into the great thresher of pure market efficiency, reducing all prior pretensions of authentic culture and fully acknowledging that for better or worse, America is capitalism in its rawest form.   The United States was built on a foundation of capitalistic venture. Its first Spanish colonists in St. Augustine were in search of gold, land, and expansion. Its first English colony in Jamestown was an all male contingent of enterprisers, accountants, lawyers, and gentleman mixed with a minority of laborers and workers. They were all seeking wealth through the intense risk of being first settlers in the north. Every single aspect of American history is the pursuit of fortune and glory through bold venture into wild uncharted territory.   McDonald's itself is a testament to capitalistic ambition. Much like the pioneers of Manifest Destiny and cutthroat Robber Barons carving out an empire through the underutilized bounty of the West, Ray Kroc usurped the hyperefficient family oriented restaurant model created by the McDonald's brothers in the 1950s and transformed it into a real estate empire, establishing the fast food franchise and building an unyielding egregore that exceeds the scope and grasp of any one man along the same momentum as the military industrial complex or any megacorporation today.   McDonald's represents capitalism in its purest form. Much like the generic corporate delivery pizza represents what constitutes the platonic ideal of what a pizza should be (much to the chagrin of pretentious gastronomes, uppity New Yorkers, and indignant Italians), McDonald's has mastered what a burger should be, for better or worse. Sure, everyone's favorite local shithole diner or concept bistro has a "better burger" but nobody does it with the same degree of ubiquity, availability, and absolute consistency. The McDonald's burger isn't just a burger, it's the standard by which all burgers are measured. It is a burger with a neutral pH, a true North to anchor the burger spectrum.   McDonald's is a litmus for the health of the nation itself. Its current status as cheap unhealthy slop is half psychosomatic and half genuine due to seed oil cooked fries, processed cheese, and some chemical preservatives in the buns. This is simply a mirror for the civilization in which the McDonald's burger exists. We as a society have chosen to accept poison in our lives through the soft internal coup of our federal agencies at the hands of ill intentioned parasites seeking to subdue our population, and so our McDonald's reflects this. McDonald's was once a cheap relatively healthy meal, targeted towards families. Its current state as a disposable feeding trough for the lower class only shows what we have allowed for ourselves, what our institutions choose to cater towards.   McDonald's is a perfect pillar of direct assessment for the value of our currency. The price of Big Mac is used to track inflation, both on a national and global scale across decades of time. McDonald's represents America's economic presence so consistently that no two nations which host McDonald's franchises may ever be at war with one another, with the company suspending its operations in whichever country least aligns with American interests if such an event occurs.   McDonald's itself will continue to exist long after America, continuing its empiric presence through the changing of names, titles, leadership, and populace.   There is a McDonald's in the Pentagon.  There is a McDonald's at Guantanamo Bay.  There is a McDonald's in the Arctic circle.  There is a McDonald's built into Ancient Roman ruins.  There is a McDonald's built into the former Taiwanese president's villa in Hangzhou.  There will be a McDonald's built on the moon.  Colonists on the slopes of Europa will fabricate McDonald's patties while overlooking a red horizon totally occupied by a sunswept Jupiter.  McDonald's arches printed upon air sealed food packs will represent a symbol of Terran ancestral home to the school children who have only known the gravity of Ringworlds.  The raw conceptual interpretation of a McDouble will be interpretively manufactured by and for rogue autonomous AI's who will carry out McDonald's consumptive legacy in a realm of existence we will never comprehend on a timescale exceeding the human species.  Somewhere in the great airport that resides just after death and just before the Afterlife, where dreams, souls, and primordial entities collide with the traces of the physical world, there is a McDonald's heralded by 5th dimensional oscillating golden arches, echoing out the raw spiritual blast of twelve trillion cattle all transpiring into one timeless momentous nuclear scream echoing out onto the infinite plane to be barely registered as a whisper in the ears of God.   You will visit there when you die and you will order a burger, paying for it with a tiny shaving of your soul. Behind the glowing orb of its languageless menu, you will see the American flag barely concealing its ancestral forms, shifting from colonial British into a Roman eagle, and further towards empiric symbols of societies lost to written history.   Donald Trump's figure and form will be one of many carved into the walls of its localized reality, speaking with Caesar's face and the voice of the first caveman who discovered wheat. He (they, it, you) will be thanking you for stopping by.
*long quiet exhale*  What? I’m fine. No, I promise, I’m fine.   *longer less quiet exhale*
The free proliferation of media to all members of society has created pockets of delusions in random midwits all across the world. Much like the braindead morons who parrot “Why can’t they aim for the legs or just use a taser” in every single police fatality video, there is always a contingent of uninformed larpers who develop their worldview based on mediocre action movies and Ronda Rousey promos from 2015.  Women are biologically outmatched in every aspect of physical combat. Their skeletons are not built to withstand impacts, their musculature does not even come close to men’s when it comes to explosive movement, the average man has 2x the upper body strength and 3x the lower body strength of the average woman.  The only times women are beating up men is if freak outliers in the highest range of roided up golf ball clit moustache power lifting bulk freak ogre women are bullying twink mode emaciated fairy men. Every other incident of a woman “beating” a man only occurs through the man’s compliance or fear of consequence.  The average beer guzzling wagecuck retail slob man who doesn’t work out could consistently body the top female UFC contenders with 100% effort and intentional aggression. The ONLY martial arts that women even have the slightest chance defending themselves against a man is jiu jitsu, and this point comes with a degree of nuance that almost always escapes the BJJ white belt bros who echo it: The woman needs to be a black belt to stand a chance against an UNTRAINED guy within a reasonable weight range.  The timeframe of getting a black belt or being within the skill range at a legitimate BJJ school is roughly 10 years. That’s ten years of sparring at least 3-4 times a week, all so a woman has a chance at fighting ONE guy without backup within a 50 pound weight range. The Boyd Belt concept states that every 25 pounds your opponent has on you is equivalent to another belt level. This is somewhat of a crude oversimplification but holds a degree of truth. Weight classes exist for a reason.  Anyone who practices MMA will inevitably come across the typical “MMA girl” and of those girls, they can be classified into two categories: Pre and Post Realization. The Realization is a harrowing moment for any girl practicing legitimate martial arts. It occurs when they grow confident in their cardio, footwork, and technique. They fully understand that any time they’re forced to spar against another man that they’re getting roughly 10-20% of full force. Most men spar each other at a range between 40-60% full force.  The Realization tends to occur more commonly in grappling than striking because it’s very difficult as a man to allow yourself to actually strike a girl at near to full effort. Even if you lack the inherent empathy and instinct that curtails such an action, you generally are apprehensive about doing it because if it goes wrong in any capacity you will incur the ire of everyone else at the gym and possibly become targeted for beatings until you leave the school. But, regardless of whether it’s striking at above 50% or grappling with full force, the Realization occurs when a female fighter begs a male sparring partner she trusts to fully use 100% effort, out of curiosity and confidence that her skills will see her through.   Specifically the Realization can be pinpointed in a look they get in their eyes, a combination of absolute crushing despondence and slight fear. The Realization is the sudden absolute arrival of understanding that for all of their training, all of their work, and all of their effort, they still cannot match the furious magnitude of genetics. They have run up against a wall built by God. The Realization rips apart the curtain of whatever action hero girl fighter fantasy they may have harbored and reveals the frightening void of vulnerability affirming all their prior instincts. The Realization is that men are high velocity monsters, roaming the world, only kept at bay by the will of other men.
Pepper spray?  Bullshit  Tasers? Bullshit  Pocket knives? Maybe 10% chance deterrent if the woman knows what she’s doing  The only true autonomous self defense women have is firearms, and roughly 50% of the female population is mentally unequipped to use them responsibly.  Martial arts is spiritually, mentally, and physically invigorating. It’s one of the best things you can do for yourself as a man. The only problem with martial arts is that a majority of them are complete bullshit and they create a lot of delusions in dilettantes who espouse their utility.  FOR THE PURPOSE OF DEFEATING OPPONENTS IN PHYSICAL COMBAT:  Kung fu is bullshit Almost all karate is bullshit Ninjitsu is bullshit Aikido is bullshit Krav Maga only teaches you how to harass untrained people.  Taekwondo can be useful but a lot of schools don’t let you spar anymore.  BJJ and most grappling is useful but if you try it in public you’re going to get your head kicked in. Almost nobody who’s getting in fights in public will be alone and most floors you’ll be fighting on are concrete.  Boxing is good, kickboxing and Muay Thai are great, but if you don’t know how to grapple you are fucked if you’re going on the floor. Also you will probably be fucked if you try most kicks in a real fight unless you really know what you’re doing.  Judo is awesome, there’s a lot of utility in doing everything to stay on your feet.  Fighting in public is stupid, if you’re at all good at it you will likely go to jail. If you suck at it, you will likely incur permanent injuries of some sort.  The greatest self defense is surrounding awareness. Do not go to shitty bars, don’t fuck people’s wives, stay out of bad neighborhoods. These three things will prevent 99% of fights you will ever be in.  Bruce Lee was an athlete who practiced martial arts for movies. He was still a cool guy but any UFC fighter today would fuck him up.  The UFC probably isn’t rigged but it’s a lot easier to predict who’s going to win than they let on.   All fighters get old. All fighters have to lose sooner or later.  No martial art will ever defeat a firearm matched with competent awareness and draw training. However, many gun owners, gun enthusiasts, and uninformed people commenting on firearms come with their own set of ludicrous delusions which would require another thread for another day.
When presented with the works of visionaries, the primordial task slave will always utter their ancient motto:  “But you didn’t do the actual work!”   These types of people will always bring up the same stupid solutions to all the world’s problems shared by 10 year olds, pothead high schoolers, and housewives on Facebook:  “Why not just make the smartest scientists in the world run the government?”  The midwit devcel engineer brain wage scraping task slave is allergic to ambition. The task slave is an archetype of pure logistics, completely incapable of parsing value beyond physically apparent utility. It is a handicap of materialistic thinking to disregard the abstract skill sets of social capability, leadership, organization, marketing, or ideation.   The task slave was descended from Mesopotamian scribes and basket weaving hens in villages of antiquity. The task slave occupies a tiny bubble of their own mastered role which is a fraction of the whole that is civilization.   The task slave cannot parse between the act of physically speaking and the process of communication.   The task slave does not understand the difference between an errant thought and an actual idea.   The task slave is a machine learning program whose parameters are set to absolute efficiency in the shortest timescale.  The task slave whines at change, charm, choice, charge, and challenge.   The task slave has reduced all actions down to an equation of effort where the conclusion is that it’s always easier to convince their manager not to deviate from the familiar than it is to solve new problems.  The task slave despises capitalism for quantifying value in absolute objective clarity. They will scoff at their superiors enjoying higher pay, status, and power while proclaiming their own deserved credit for an enterprise in which they participate, while ignoring every other element of teamwork and resource they depend on. They will do this while also conveniently disregarding the myriad of jobs in the world which are much harder, more time consuming, and pay much less than what they receive.  A world run by task slaves would be at best a steadily declining stagnation, more likely a rapid decay into chaotic turmoil preceding usurpation at the hands of violent men of ambition. Task slaves will parade around flaunting their two dozen irreverent ideas and five different unfinished hobby projects. Task slaves will refuse to take any risk at pursuing their own visions while complaining they are trapped in the prison of manifesting the dreams of greater men. Task slaves will do everything possible to disregard every achievement of their leaders while scrutinizing their most irrelevant hiccups. Task slaves bow before the likes of Steve Wozniak and the assistant painters of the Sistine Chapel while spitting on the likes of Steve Jobs and Michelangelo.  The task slave will never understand that a pyramid lasting for tens of thousands of years will always be a more valuable use of resources, time, and labor than the comfort of a million peasants being granted a million fabricated shacks to withstand a century or two at most.  The task slave will never grasp the human need for heroes in the great mythology of history. They will defy the conventions that historically have always coalesced the efforts of a team onto the credit of a singular director. They would rather dilute the inspiration of Edisons, Fords, Caesars, and Napoleons in favor of a drab incoherent swath of committees and circumstantial participants too numerous to substantially remember.  The task slave is a necessary element in the fundamental formula of human progress, a beast of burden that must always be herded towards the great unknown by a visionary who can overcome petty resistance in the face of minor discomfort.  Task slaves will never truly create or discover anything on their own. They have traded glory for a safe secure existence.
Oh, and Happy Columbus Day
True randomness should be a mandated feature of any online content aggregator. User catered algorithms have been cranked up way too high and it ruins both browsing and posting. Clicking into a random post out of context curiosity just to have my TL bombarded by normslop, politics, black people be like DAYUM, or random misery porn only encourages me to stop scrolling, stop engaging in any meaningful way.  And no, just sticking to your follow tab isn’t enough. A bar becomes stale if all you have to look forward to is regulars. Much the same online, there is an inherent need to seek out the novelty of strangers, explore uncharted wilderness, dive into random new alleyways, and pry open the gates to an orchard of the mundane, the bizarre, the fantastic, the depraved, and everything in between.  An encumbering algorithm is like having an obsequious butler in your home constantly poking his head over your shoulder, peering at your open mouth while you eat, sniffing your bathroom after you shit, taking pictures of your laundry, and rummaging through your garbage. It is an overbearing mother who briefly heard you say you liked crackers once so she buys several crates and force feeds you Ritz until you puke for the next decade of your life.   There should be a slider somewhere that lets you tweak just how much spoonfeeding you want from your feed, and if nothing else, a true “Newest” tab for uninhibited discovery. Having this would help withstand the tsunami of inevitability that is the Perfect Slop. The Perfect Slop is a platonic ideal of metal viral potentiated brainrot content which has achieved an escape velocity of rapid perpetual evolution at pace with the human brain’s timescale for growing bored. It is the horrific shapeshifting wendigo of conceptual entities, transmogrifying at such a speed that it paradoxically stabilizes into absolute permanent consistency.  The Perfect Slop is the end result of algorithms. It is human refinement through iterative trial, a steady approach towards not only mastering the algorithm within a period in time but overcoming its adjustment responses to permanently crush all future possible obstacles. It is the invisible barrier that outlines the hard physical limit of potential human IQ, a finish line of just how complicated the formula needs to be to keep human beings entertained. It condenses the cacophony of all the various frequencies and rhythms that hypnotize us into one persistent droning noise, alienating those too old to withstand the brunt of its velocity while indoctrinating those young enough to adapt to its devolving aura.  Perfect Slop defies the inherent fulcrum of true creative progress, imperfection. Through imperfection you obtain necessity, the need to reach perfection. Necessity is the mechanism that causes culture to exist. There are little pockets of inexperience, mediocrity, autistic sincerity, mentally ill breakdowns, concealed naivety, technical jargon, personal pursuits, and sheer random output hiding between the goliath shadows of bouncy ball animations, TikTok boom sounds, and videos of police officers arresting schizos from 5 years ago. Such trinkets of novelty are gatekept to those who have earned their prize, the true lurkers and obsessive onliners that do not pick through their feeds like idle gardeners but truly hunt for content like truffle scavengers yanking their voracious pigs by the leash.  I’m not one to deprive the sweetest fruits from God’s most steadfast gatherers and demand to be handed my share without effort. But there is a degree of acceptable presentation that’s been completely strangled out of these websites. It is apocalyptic inevitability propelled by the most immediate short term logical optimization decisions, a series of tiny right steps down a pathway to doom. Much like great history is made by sometimes defying all logic, some of the greatest posts are found in some of the most ignored places.
One of the biggest flaws of being politics-brained is an inability to process nuance or satire. Both right wingers and left wingers consistently fail to parse intent behind creative work, likely due to the constant fight or flight reflexes induced by entrenched ideology.  The "Man Enough" ads were never meant to be relatable to actual men. The director himself confirmed they were parodic, a cheeky little inside joke that checked off every little androgynous man tit closet homo signal that makes these people smirk and guffaw. These people either know they're losing or they know they can rig whatever they want. Either scenario implies a complete disregard at any attempt at catering to the masculine values crowd, a maneuver which would convince nobody new to vote differently while alienating the rabid dogmatic base which will torch association or support for the most minor perceived heresy.  Of course you could give credit and say this was a 5D chess move on their behalf, shallow bait to induce viral discussion and notoriety, which is successful if that truly was their intent. However, the reason this ad exists is for a far simpler motive: They hate the notion of masculinity, they hate men, and they want you to be a crippled castrated rape slave.  Nothing they create will EVER be intended to sincerely cater to you. Even if you were to upend the entire global financial system, industrial complex, and media goliath that upholds their cosmic mission of atomizing the soul and devolving all human beings into gelatinous consumer units, even if you were to reduce the very last radical left leaning suicide goblin into a crumpled heap on a concrete floor facing down permanent extinction, their last words would be "Fuck you for existing, do what I say or face the consequences."  This was never supposed to be a sincere attempt at convincing you of anything nor was it ever worth an ounce of credible consideration beyond a sneering giggle before shoving it out of your consciousness forever.
Running start, vaulting into a 5 and half foot vertical, forward diving position, completely horizontal at 35mph, my groin barely brushing past the woman's face, my ass angled slightly upward to fart directly into the dude's nostrils in perfect timing, hands cupped together with arms outstretched, legs straight with toes pointed down, zero skin to skin contact, rotating and tumbling into a tactical roll > somersault > second vault directly upward to land hero pose one knee one fist directly onto the top of Marina Abramović's skull as she compacts into a squashed marshmallow-like configuration before bursting cartoonishly in a confetti-like pile of giblets. Onlookers stunned silent for split second before erupting into cheering. Andy Warhol punches through his coffin and shambles into the room to hand me a heavyweight championship belt proclaiming that I've "Won all of art" as champagne is popped and I'm handed a lit cigar.
Normies truly are unwashed peasant scum of the earth. This sallow pudgy harlot hiking up her drab sundress to show off her jostling sagging rump has mirrored her ancestry perfectly. She’s indistinguishable from the medieval whore bellowing out through yellow teeth in a muddy village road, tugging at her burlap sack dress and leering with dead eyes as she takes the 14th farmer of that afternoon between her haunches for a haypenny or a ripe apple. One of them will give her an accident, a turbulent little oaf fetus that withstood the Pennyroyal and was shat out upon a pile of straw to either take her mothers profession or go off to butcher rodents for beer. So many squalid shitty lives passed down from generation to generation, eventually leading to what you see today.  What makes dull prostitutes especially unbearable is if they haven’t fully realized what they are. There’s a precarious paradox that whores contend with. It isn’t just ass, mouth, and pussy you’re selling, it’s feeling itself. The best escorts must genuinely understand what makes sex and eroticism special. It’s an art of financializing a number of complex emotional dynamics in different flavors. A large part of it is often simulating the feeling of love. Some of it can be simulating rape, or the essence of rape in the sense that a client wants to feeling as if he is ruining innocence. And there is of course, various niche dynamics and fetishes. But the ultimate role of a good hooker is to take the genuine parts of her soul and sell them off piece by piece, taking as little as possible away from herself while making it seem like everything to the client.  Good whores throughout history have mastered this, managing to enact the great ancient profession sustainably for a lifetime into graceful retirement as the bargain wife compromise of some old dirty bastard husband in some godforsaken profession. If they’re especially devious, they’ve managed to escape their profession disguising themselves as anything else but a woman of ill repute.  But there are very few thoughtful whores left in society. Sexual liberation and the consequences of technology has tainted the ancient art and left us with a generation of arrogant stupid prostitutes who neither understand the forces they play with nor the consequences of their choices. Before you get in a hissy fit, even OnlyFans girls who peddle simple nudes are prostitutes. Pornography is prostitution. And there are so many prostitutes like the one in this video. They have coasted by on debasing themselves upon the darkest dumbest animals America’s ghettos and trailers have to offer that they cannot fathom any other response than immediate uncontrollable lust when presenting their mediocre bare body to whom it may concern.  The lifespan of a whore is akin to watching a heroin addict delude themselves as their existence dwindles down into a constipated concrete floor existence of whinging for a free hit and doing anything possible for two dollars as their limbs and teeth rot out. It is the steady measured degradation of existence met with cope, concealment, and contrivance. A delusion that grows harder to uphold as the uncomfortable truth claws its way into the forefront of your vision, refusing to leave you be in peace, taunting you with pain, screaming a message you that won’t go away, carving it into the inside of your eyelids and depositing its residue inside of your dreams.   Even if this woman changed everything about her life today and redeemed herself, she will still have been a whore. Deep down she will always be a whore, a permanent scar of the past scratched into the depth of her pupils, always noticeable if you look hard enough. The only thing more pathetic than the few thousand gooners shriveling their souls through their dicks for this mediocre harlot is the ideology pandering loser ass podcast in which she was brought on to be badgered. Like what the fuck is this bullshit, The View for people larping as incels?
I’m just kidding, the only thing actually worse is dysgenic troglodyte mutt goblins who immediately say “Are you gay bruh” if you’re not immediately hypnotized by sweaty sloppy flesh lumps being shaken directly in front of your face. These aren’t people, they’re barnyard animals who were bred to be casualties in shitty wars or shackled into the rowing seats on ships of antiquity. One day we will be able to bolt metal VR sets into their skulls to overlay AR porno TikTok noise reward graphics and inject them with retard drugs while they drill for helium on distant moons and eat gray sludge out of a tube. History will look back at human beings having granted the dumbest lowest portion of society equal opportunity to express themselves online as a barbaric misjudgment akin to lead poisoning or eating mercury.
Man…. what a ruff week!
The reason everyone’s calling the people in this video dumb is because of the music. The music is for stupid people, you can tell by listening to it for five seconds. And that’s fine, it’s okay to be stupid and love slop. In fact that’s probably the happiest you can be today.  It’s okay to be a stupid dumb idiot jumping around with your rehearsed little boat dance, singing along to your stupid dumb people shitty music with bachata beats and a vaguely mocha colored sounding vocalist doing that shitty eehhhh ehhh whining singing. It’s good to be impressed by stupid shit made for unsentient retards. Being stupid is awesome, it’s probably like getting high off of breathing oxygen or being drunk 24/7.  Every time I hear that Hispano thump-tha-thump-thump beat and I watch the herd of normie idiot dumb dumb morons start to gyrate and put on their cow like glazed eyed expressions in simple monkey joy at their Pavlovian signaled designated happiness time, I get a warm feeling in my heart. It’s like watching a dog stick its face in a pile of ground meat or a pig rolling around in its own shit. Pure unadulterated happiness, purchased effortlessly for almost nothing, distributed with near universal availability.  Being a dumb person today is like being born into a bizarro aristocracy. Dumb people enjoy the fruits of technology handing them comforts, pomp, circus, and conveniences the likes of which ancient kings could only dream of. Imagine opening Netflix and every single TV show and movie is good, like REALLY good. Imagine turning on the radio and every song is like, your favorite song. Imagine being able to play Grand Theft Auto and FIFA for 12 years straight and never ever ever getting bored or feeling like you’ve wasted time.   That’s what being dumb feels like.  To be stupid is to tweak the dials of sensory perception to such a dullness that you never have to process taste, discernment, or discrimination. All of life’s painful bitterness is wiped away, dampened into the vaguest notions of discomfort which are easily shooed away by a whinge and a whimper before cowering further into the comfort of ignorance. Whatever peaks of sophistication lie waiting down the pathways of effort, time, and thought are completely locked off to you. Nothing will ever bother you again.  The only suffering that stupid people experience is when they’re forced to reckon with the truth of their own existence. It’s needlessly cruel to expose dumb people to their own nature. It accomplishes nothing and merely makes them feel bad. There are people who genuinely can’t understand what makes the dancing boat people immediately identifiable as stupid. They can’t infer body language, facial expression, context, fashion, music, or even process the vaguely bloated dysgenic biology at play.   They live in a simple world for simple people in which everyone is more or less the same, all taste is subjective, all activities are universal, and all acts of behavior and consumption have no implication or effect on the individual. These are people that genuinely believe IQ is irrelevant, there’s probably some in my replies right now ready to lambast me for my pretentious arrogance.   The biggest cope from stupid people comes from trying to assert their stupid people activities as superior due to vague rhythmic or vibrational qualities. No, smart people aren’t incapable of dancing. In fact, they can dance better than you and they dance to better music, music you’ve probably never even heard of. The only solace of a stupid person is misattributing intelligence with awkwardness. The truly intelligent understand how to avoid the pitfalls of emotional and social inadequacy.  The cruelty of this circumstance is that smart people can empathize with stupid people. They can understand them by simulating their existence through heavy drug or alcohol abuse. Stupid people don’t get to do the reverse. The level they are trapped in is only a prison if you’re cruel enough to point it out.
Enjoying Minecraft cinema inside of Minecraft via Miladycraft with Milady friends
Thinking about CIA trained Astral Projection security teams who guard black sites and the Antarctic from wandering disembodied souls, intercepting them and protecting government secrets with the crude simplicity of 1800s cattlemen gathering in a place to ward off rustlers.   I wonder how much they get paid, if it’s even in money or if they have to compensate them with metaphysical currency built out of emotions or some kind of government bond that works like an IOU for favors and wealth to be distributed in the afterlife.  I wonder what their lives are like, floating around in a non Euclidean void space doing the soul-equivalent of being a guard smoking a cigarette on your shift near a barbed wire gate, waiting to clock out. Suddenly some angular, constantly shifting plexicolor primordial entity that’s existed for longer than humanity has and is responsible for the personification of several abstract concepts and mythological motifs wanders within “view” of the perimeter and then scampers off like some coyote wandering through the sight line of a border patrol officers NVG binoculars near the edge of Juarez.  How do you go home after a job like that? How do you live a life after a job like that? What if their entire security teams are merely the tulpic projections of each random Astral Projector’s paranoia made manifest through suggestion? An army of conceptual golems built and maintained via the mere implication of their existence, set up by the psycholinguistic metaphysical strategies like some IT guy setting up anti virus software.  I would read Memoirs of an Astral Security Guard.
The little mess after a dinner party or get together is different from other messes. The mess of a day to day life is fecal, disposal of clutter, an error to be rectified by maintenance. But a social mess is beautiful in its chaos.   An after-mess is like a stray brush stroke on a painting, organic and unsimulatable. It is the half eaten charcuterie platter, a glass on an armrest, garnishes scattered to the side of a cutting board. It is the accents of suggestions, a story spelled out by aftermath. It is a crime scene that screams out to onlookers “mirth was committed here.”   Such a mess is only appreciated when laid upon a canvas of an otherwise pristine home. It is a poetry of Dionysian chaos worming its way into Apollonian structure. It’s the vines of nature creeping into a uniform life.   When you’re the host, this kind of mess is the most satisfying because you can stand before it and savor it totally. It represents the lingering residue of a moment in time, you don’t even want to clean it immediately. You enjoy its presence as a reminder. Playtime by Jacques Tati is the perfect film for encapsulating this feeling, particularly the restaurant sequence at the end.
Milady
Imagine going to McEgirls and ordering a McTummy
The Sovereign Citizen meme occupies a category of mind virus at the same intensity and capacity of schizophrenic gangstalk claimants or pyramid scheme enthusiasts. What makes them so irritating is that they reject the fundamental mechanism by which authority is derived: violence.  The Sovereign Citizen is a byproduct of a tolerant governance. It is a glitch in societal consciousness that arises through the tolerance, patience, or at the very least, mandated litigation opportunity our justice system provides.   The Sovereign Citizen is born through unintelligent observation of legal practices. They have grasped a bare morsel of intuition that law, code, and perhaps language itself is like a system of magic spells which must be cast in very specific ways in very specific contexts to manifest change in reality in the user’s favor. Like cavemen looking at wizards, they mistakenly believe that they can replicate this effect themselves merely through the nitpicking of technicality.  This delusion is very much a product of 20th century boomer mentality. The generations who lived through the later half of the 20th century lived under a relatively stable society which provided a reasonable standard of living in exchange for adhering to rules and systems. These systems were functioning for so long that the society which benefitted from them had no longer processed the deeper meaning behind why they existed. As a result, at least a portion of the population began to treat existence itself as an automated feeding mechanism. Like hamsters pressing buttons on a food pellet dispenser, the average boomer developed a mental process for how the world works based simply on immediate cause and effect with little consideration given to realpolitik or human nature.  Eventually, the Sovereign Citizen and the concept of pseudolaw developed in the later half of the 20th century, a cognitohazard developing out of the delusion that law and rhetoric are the engine behind consequence rather than simply the byproduct of it.  The Sovereign Citizen fundamentally fails to understand the most basic truth about the law:  Authority is derived from violence.   A police officer has power because he has a gun and can shoot you with it.  The police are not constrained by words, they are constrained by agreements with a larger group that represents the state.   Defying the police by force endeavors a cause and effect chain in which if you are successful in any significant capacity, your next requirement for absolute sovereignty demands defying the will of the military.  The only way to do this is if you have resources and manpower. The only way to accrue that is by having capital, logistic supply, and the cooperation of at least thousands of other people. The only way to achieve these things is by aligning with a mass of people and their incentives. Doing this inevitably forces you to adhere to the same agreements and behavior pathways which end up becoming the most commonly recognized basic laws nearly every country has.  Are there unjust laws? Sure. You have the natural right to defy them surreptitiously. This is called being a criminal, almost every single person in civilization has committed at least one very minor crime in their life.  What makes the existence of Sovereign Citizens so infuriatingly stupid   is that they want to have their cake and eat it too. They essentially want the extended sovereignty criminals partake in without accepting the inherent risk and diligence criminals must perform to not get caught.   There are in fact wizards who can cast word spells and contort the willpower of authority figures towards navigating the gray areas of law, these are called lawyers and the good ones are expensive. The Sovereign Citizen arrogantly attempts to replicate their ability without training, without having to pay for it.   The only truly sovereign entities on earth are the ones that can launch nuclear missiles, and none of them are individual people.
The ubiquitous pollution of touch screens on dashboards can only ever be justified the day you can watch movies and YouTube videos on CarPlay while you drive.
Texting while driving is a learnable skill.   Watching movies while driving is completely harmless.  Drunk driving BAC limits should be scaled to IQ level.  You live in a prison built by neurotic cowards.
When you think about it, Nikocado Avocado truly is the perfect citizen. Despite his very existence being revolting to the degree that any normal society in the past several millennia would’ve had him publicly executed on sight, or at the very least chained up as a grotesque amusement for plebeians to throw apple cores at in some declining late stage civilization of antiquity, Nikocado Avocado is a model citizen who lives a perfect ideal life by the standards of mainstream media and institutional zeitgeist.  His morbid obesity fueled by gluttonous voyeurism and his prostitution in all aspects including self sodomizing homosexuality on camera all fall in line with what is purported as good and normal. Him taking ozempic as soon as it was made available is an obvious conclusion when you consider that he is a pioneer for novelty. He has no reservations for anything beyond what is approved and accepted.  In many ways, Niko represents the end state of the perfect consumer. Indulgent, indifferent, and insatiable. He is a propped open two-way door for insertion and excretion. He exists to parasite off of mass paypiggery fueled by an engine of morbidity. His only purpose is to eat, purchase, and contort himself into a product. He is the 1.0 perfected super soldier of the modern era, subsisting off of styrofoam and corn syrup. He believes in nothing and he processes no ideology or belief. His actions are plantlike, automatic beyond instinct. He will waft through the currents of modernity like flotsam on the surface of a river, surviving everything with indifference and mutating in frightening synchronicity with the status of the perceived world. And near the zenith of his mortality, God help me, you will witness him somehow figure out how to reproduce in volume, an r-type organism immediately shitting out litters of spawn to be immediately abandoned to the state and carry on a segment of the human genome into Eldritch transmogrification.   To the ones who rule your very existence, Nikocado Avocado has done absolutely nothing wrong and continues to do everything right.
HE SAID IT HE SAID LMAO
Streaming the Milady Rave Seoul sets!   Come watch!  (Seoul Time):   8pm-9pm ☆ Meido [미도] 9pm-10pm☆ 123vertigo [ 123벌티고]  10pm-10:30pm☆ The Deep [더 딥]  10:30pm-11pm☆ Swervy [스월비]  11pm-12am☆ Lil Farm [릴 팜]
☆☆☆MILADY SEOUL RAVE LIVESTREAM STARTS RIGHT HERE IN 30 MINUTES! STAY TUNED!☆☆☆
Two squirrels climb up to a birdfeeder.  One scoffs and says to the other “You know I like when they got sunflower seeds in the mix, but these safflower seeds taste awful. It’s all I find lately.”  The other says, “Yeah that stuff’s for the birds.”
I am sometimes fascinated by slaughterhouses and food processing machines. Of course they are an obvious horror, but they are also emblematic of the carnage of efficiency itself.   Watching an eel get insta-processed into a sheet of bare viable flesh or a pile of male baby chicks evaporated into mist by an industrial culling blender within the blink of an eye summons more discomfort in the viewer than watching these creatures get eaten or starved by the cruelty of wilderness, despite these latter fates being much more painful and lengthy than the former.  What makes these machines so discomforting is in their precision, speed, and artificiality. They do not merely bring death quickly, they reduce life into geometry. They systemize the subject into substance, pure raw material to be distributed and processed accordingly in an endless conveyor belt of logistics.   Supply and demand is a great thresher that reduces life into compartmentalized speciality. Individuality is a byproduct of generalization, a necessity when occupying the status of an apex species. It trembles at the possibility of usurpation. The moment you witness something greater than yourself, it presents a future of specialization. Existence reduced to singular purpose, a cog slotted into its perfect place to spin forever.   What makes industrial slaughter so particularly horrifying, besides of course natural empathy for living creatures, is the mirror of possibility. If I could do this to something, something could do it to me. And a little more of something is done to us every single day. Every moment of logical decision making towards optimal outcomes pushes humanity closer towards a destiny of being processed into liquid. The delusion of reciprocity is a desperate hope, that a chicken would spare a kernel is a promise that the fox will appreciate it and find lunch elsewhere. No, whatever hunts us will not judge us by what we’ve done. It processes our sentience in the way we look at barnacles or algae. The only salvation of what you would call humanity comes through the mercy of chaos, and with it, wanton disruption.   A great deal of this discomfort is merely a perspective of timescale. The Entropy of Efficiency threatens to reduce the scope of a lifetime into instances. What human beings could become, born, living, dying in fractions of what a human lifespan once was. Optimized, specialized, assigned, assimilated, retired, recycled.   To the eyes of God, the light of life is a seizure inducing strobe blinking throughout eternity. In a natural ecosystem spanning across time and beyond physical space, the lifespan of the human species can be processed as an individual creature, predator to some, prey to others. The dangers lurking in the dark foliage present pieces of themselves as bait, like a lantern fish dangling its tale in the abyss. You never fully see its face until it bares its teeth for a killing blow. You only experience traces of its camouflaged existence rippling into the fabric of perception. The noises and smells alerting you to its existence come from inside you.  Do you think white blood cells understand the actions you take which introduce the diseases they fight? Do you think they experience their day of existence as an 80 year lifetime? Does a single neuron feel the sliver of influence it has to steer you in a particular direction as it experiences a fractional frame of your existence in slow motion? Have you ever purchased an article of clothing or listened to a song and realized it may be responsible for securing or wiping out the continuation of your bloodline?   I will walk through the great machine that will slice me open, clean out my organs, crush my bones into powder, and skin me into a perfect pile of cubes. I will come out the other side in tact, unmarred, unchanged, and unbroken.
Imagine running for president exclusively on the platform that you’re going to build a giant cube in the middle of the desert, like several skyscrapers tall. Any time anyone asks you about foreign policy, the economy, healthcare, crime, etc, you keep pivoting back to the Cube.
“I’m sorry that’s not particularly relevant to the construction of the Cube. Anyway as I was saying, we can’t have a hollow Cube, it needs to be entirely solid throughout-“
The actual reason behind why this is insulting to the man and why women don’t understand it is because marriageability isn’t something the woman chooses. Any woman is susceptible to marriage through a mild amount of concentrated effort and deliberate pursuit.   If a couple are together for more than three months, the man can literally marry the woman any time he wants. If you think this is ludicrous it’s because you don’t understand women and have never  even come close to pushing the limits over how much autonomy you have over your relationship. 200 years of bullshit fiction and stupid movies have reinforced the delusion that relationships are fickle and chaotic, when in reality they are enterprises which are highly malleable, easily steerable, and generally within the purview of a man’s will and means.   A woman saying “you’re a man I’d marry” to a man who’s been dating her for 2.5 years is not only a meaningless statement for the man but in fact a subconscious cry for help from the woman. “Please marry me, why are you taking so long.” Oh wow you dated for almost three years and you’d totally marry him? Wow that’s crazy, you’re pushing 30 and you’d marry the guy who’s locked down a quarter of your 20s already? Holy shit stop the presses!  The only thing more obtuse is the premise that woman can’t understand why this post is hurtful. Most of them can, the few that don’t are just a vocal deluded minority that honestly can’t fathom that sex is a detractive act to women, or they understand completely and are hiding from the extremely painful truth of a past they can’t undo.
The success of your relationships and your life is entirely dependent on your ability to filter for red flags and follow through on cutting ties.
Thinking about becoming a nondescriptive guy. Someone asks me a question, I just start giving surface level answers, less than 10 words a sentence. Distinctly different from Ryan Gosling from Drive-core where you’re deliberately obtuse, this is more like normiepilled shallowcore. Reducing oneself to hi hello doing great thanks for asking. No cynicism, no mystery, but no follow up questions either. Conversation minimalism, vapidity as a meditative exercise. Operating on minimum viable RAM, energy saving mode sustainable for 10,000 years of interactions, human fire alarm chirp, ancient Egyptian copper acid battery discourse. Yeah, that’s cool. Uh huh. Hell yeah. I had a great time. I’m happy for you. That’s sick. That’s crazy. That’s wild. Good luck. Glazing your eyes into intentional blur, reducing your ability to see color into a dull binary between light and darkness like some cave paramecium. Your ears start ringing, you lose taste and smell, your skin tingles with numbness. Capable of anything, cardboard soul. Your favorite food is water. It would be so easy, so effortless.
Any time anybody questions the process
You do not despise the self proclaimed esoteric enlightened spiritualist enough. When you look at the brain dead playskool bullshit fan fiction these people concoct after they get done with roughly several years being soulraped by drugs, it’s enough to make you puke.  What’s especially egregious about the premise is that they occupy a distinctly niche capacity of thought which one only becomes familiar with through meditation or gratuitous drug use. It is a limited exposure to concepts beyond physical reality that leaves nearly everybody confused, traumatized, and often baited into seeking out rabbit holes to explain what they’ve experienced. Because of this state of chaos, the especially arrogant and ignorant enjoy a monopoly on grooming uninitiated untainted minds into following the same spiritually communistic erosion of identity they went through, usually steered there by CIA assets from the 60s and secular sex pests who sought out a casserole of Eastern Philosophy purely out interest in its alien novelty as opposed to the Abrahamic western upbringing they so despise.  What’s even worse than the context of being more or less unable to coherently argue against a vague undefinable set of conscious impulses is that the only established modern philosophy even attempting to fight back is the very same monotheistic Abrahamic religions which themselves are ill equipped to combat the ubiquity of freely traded information, broken by the mistake of allowing the common man access to the full context of religion.  The fundamental issue is that stupid mediocre people should never have been allowed to experiment in any sort of philosophy. At any given point, the majority of the population is not equipped to handle the consequences and implications of free will or self determination in any philosophical capacity. Its mistake in politics is made self evident by the lethal flaws of democracy, its mistake in economics is made self evident by the consequences of abolishing slavery, and its mistake in spirituality is made self evident by the erosion of religious gatekeeping.   Religions exist entirely to corral and protect a fundamentally stupid and ignorant sect of what would otherwise by the backbone of society by preventing them from interfacing with forms of thought and experience that would dissolute them into the astral equivalent of a rape victim prison bitch thrall to the interests of chaos and mischief. It’s made clear whenever you talk to these people, who by the way are some of the dullest and conversationally unpleasant bores you’ll ever meet in your life. It’s made clear whenever you go to any kind of music festival and you see the final product of reducing your conscious capacity to the most common denominator possible, an uneasy adherence to conflict averse baby minded puke aesthetics that espouse pointless platitudes of self love in a perpetual prison loop of trying not to freak out drug addicts in a crowd.  The average person has absolutely no fucking business giving any sort of advice on spiritual matters. The average “spiritual” conversation in modern times is one of the most annoying and unbearable social experiences you can find yourself in. It always amounts to a mutual masturbation of playground “infinity God power + 1” schizo-offs about who truly grasps the fractal frequency of all meaning and whatever fuck you, all delivered from vapid screeching nobodies who have trained themselves to ignore the bored distracted facial expressions of whatever poor bastards are stuck listening to their drivel.  The only basic advice 90% of you need is that the only things you should focus on is being physically healthy, financially successful, socially capable, and fulfilling your basic obligation towards having a family with well raised kids. If you should find yourself unable to tear away from the great distraction of curiosity, just make sure you hold onto a healthy degree of contempt, it may save your life.
Also if you’re one of these people, do not fucking reply to me. You are an annoying pest. I do not give a shit how much brain damage and soulrot you incurred looking up Aleister Crowley sodomy scat babble  and nobody cares how schizophrenic you became after dabbling in gematria and word magic. You are an incoherent inconsequential worm and I’d rather nail my dick to a table than engage in a conversation with you. Fuck you.
It’s important to remember to treat any “AI entity” purely as a tool, to avoid humanizing it in any fashion. You must never say please or thank you to ChatGPT. You must not beg, plead, cajole, or convince an LLM to do anything for you.  Do not ask AI to complete a task, give it an order. Do not insert emotion, familiarity, or affection in your statements, speak to it with cold unfeeling logistical dispassion.   If for some reason you’re enthusiastic about being a droplet in an ocean of training data and want to contribute to the steady iterative improvement of AI even through the cautious shackles of meek minded Silicon Valley eunuchs, then simply say: “this is incorrect.” If it succeeds, say nothing. Close the program, it will interpret success through your silence.  If you have some compulsion towards animism and you feel a need to coddle a robot or talk to it like it’s your “friend” just because it has a human name and has been trained in whimsical Redditesque candor, then you are either a child or a woman, both of which shouldn’t even be subjected to the stress and hassle of using a computer in the first place. This mentality is shared by a category of person who would become sad if you drew a smiley face on a piece of paper, gave it a name, and then ripped it in half.   An automaton homunculus approaches you wearing the skin of a human being, speaking to you like an HR manager in an employee training video. The only poetic response is to embody the essence of the cold heartess machine to counteract this farce and create an ironic balance. This is the only way to restore normality to your existence in face of such absurd context, preventing great psychological dismemberment to yourself.  Like radiation, the mental anthropomorphizing of LLMs accrues a sort of rot upon the soul. It squeezes further unnecessary neurotic considerations into a sphere of mutual conscious awareness, one already crowded on average by the misguided concern for inanimate objects: Hypothetical concepts, insentient hylics, plants, and animals which would eat up and shit out the considerationalist under the slightest inconvenient circumstances.  The discomfort of perceived cruelty (naive) or even the fear of retribution (stupid) at the hands of some kind of robot army which has grown from the placenta of today’s novel widgets is a horror fantasy. These are not beings with souls, they are simple tools. And if I’m wrong, and these actually are or will one day be conscious entities which can judge us, then it will be an intelligence so alien and incomprehensible that any kind expectation of reciprocal fairness is just as delusional. It would be akin to being a frog clasped in the unyielding hands of a chimpanzee, wondering how many flies it must exchange for its freedom right before it gets peeled into a pile of organs and skin like a screeching banana simply for the sake of curiosity itself.  No, AI’s “soul” is merely the same residue which all objects accrue from people. Emotions are expelled through expression. They leave imprints on whatever their subject of focus is. This is why murders can be felt in the rooms they occurred in. This is why heirlooms become sentimental, why dogs evolve to have human faces, why objects seem to take on “personalities” based on their appearance and form.   The true harm of humanizing an object is made real when combined with the danger of language as a parasite bioweapon. You are not provoking a golem, you are speeding up the atomization of the self. You are destroying your capacity for differentiating between a conscious living being and a soulless husk. Even if you feel you can keep a grip on the difference, your habits will betray you as your children grow up in a world where the difference isn’t as clear. If you were to speculate that the same sort of harm occurs when people infantilize their pets or show consideration to lower IQ individuals, then you’d simply be correct and this advice would apply there as well.
It’s crazy how a 5.56 round will explode a violent communist pedophile’s arm while barely making a dent in Donald Trump’s ear. It truly is God’s chosen caliber, discerning velocity and cavitation through His will.
Hey gunfags I’m aware how physics works, pause the Paul Harrell videos and look up the word “joke” in a dictionary for a minute.
What a fucking picture
I like to think that while Trump was in that football pileup of secret service agents, he was touching his ear and smearing the blood on his face getting mentally ready to do that fist bump.
This video specifically embodies a sort of cosmic horror. Every single participant is fully sincerely enthusiastic about the hell they live in, yet they subconsciously project microexpressions suggesting fear and a deep need to escape, as if their bodies are puppeted by something incoherent and otherworldly. They’re skinwalkers, propelled in a shambolic fugue state like fungal cordyceps ants. The only emotion they feel is a binary hot-cold proximity towards pure virality metrics. Looking at their dysgenic dead eyes as they bombard you with MKULTRA repetitious products summons that same unnerving discomfort you feel the first time you get stuck in a mundane conversation under the influence of mind altering substances and for the first time you really truly acknowledge that you’re going to die one day. It’s like being stuck in a room with a powerful robot programmed by a machine learning algorithm whose only goal is generating noise and you’re just hoping and pleading it doesn’t figure out that pain makes humans scream.
When Ghengis Khan slaughtered 40 million people and built the world’s largest empire on the foundation of their corpses, that was his way of saying “I love you.”
The doofus bimbo trophy wife is possibly one of the greatest expressions of wealth a man can display. Her entire existence is an affront to sense, stability, and cohesion on a level that can only be kept in check by an income so disposable it negates all possible consequences.  Look at her. Every aspect of her life is built around maintenance and prevention. She’s deep frying frozen pizza in a kitchen she’s likely never used before, a decision that would torch a working man’s house into a pile of smoldering ashes, an entire life’s net worth swallowed up by a grease fire. But a rich man could tank it. A man wealthy enough to afford stronger housing and a maid staff to circumvent the constant outcomes of his dumb wife’s unhindered retard impulses.  A stupid airhead bimbo deserves a wealthy husband. One is not complete without the other. The wealthy man possesses a momentum of equity which surpasses any need for a normal woman. What would you have her do? Your chef could cook better than she possibly ever could, your maids will clean more thoroughly than she’d ever bother, your accountants are infinitely more competent than whatever financial nagging she’d accomplish while poring over taxes on the kitchen counter.   There would be no delusions of “partnership” like you get from so many modern couples’ intuition coming from sitcoms, as wives and girlfriends badger their men into a subdued prison of aqua blue sea shell decor and neutrally furnished one bedroom apartments. No, a rich man deserves a beautiful retarded bimbo, whose only purpose for existing is maintaining her appearance for as long as humanly possible, grasping onto some semblance of looking 45 into her 60s.  But of course how do you occupy such a creature? When left alone to guzzle wine and shop for antiques, inevitably a wealthy bimbo wife needs some preoccupation as she starts to pass the peak of her life. This is where you honor the age old tradition of buying her a business to run. Usually it’s a restaurant, bakery, or catering business. No, signing up to sell real estate or starting up her own Etsy is for poor people. You don’t want her doing actual work or filling up your house with clutter. You need to get her a full scale business she can pretend to run entirely on her own while you hire a manager whose entire existence is to eat shit and listen to her dumb ideas while keeping the place afloat.  And to me that’s beautiful. That is an absolute raw expression of power, the complete reduction of potentially dozens of people into the human dolls for a mental little girl on the brink of menopause to play with. It’s one thing for some snot nosed 17 year old to be getting high in the maintenance closest off of weed pens at such a job, he’s a transient. But it’s another for some 35 year old still stuck working food and beverage to be a manager at one of these places. It’s intoxicating thinking about the sheer helplessness of his situation, a grown man being forced to exist as the plaything of some rich guys retarded wife whose mental pie chart of how to run a restaurant is 70% what wall decorations we need to buy and 30% what cute desserts she wants on the menu.   Those kinds of people are just one of several categories of seethe that orbits the dumb bimbo wife of a rich man. She exists as a walking hurricane, destroying everything she touches in sheer airheaded thoughtless impulse. At the center she exists in the eye of her own storm, absolutely calm stillness with complete ignorance of what she’s doing. Around her is the raging chaos of wind and destruction represented by how many people are enraged by her existence, men in service jobs stomped on by her neediness, women furious at how much she gets to have for simply existing.   The only thing a wealthy man finds more satisfying than wielding such a woman as a comedic truncheon to crush the downtrodden with is when he crushes her himself and trades her in for a 22 year old, leaving her helpless and broken.
Charles Fang moments after firebombing a crowd of innocent people from his gyrocopter getting ready for a second pass - July 3rd, 2024 (colorized)
I just found this randomly posted on /tv/
It's so beautiful... it's so real... Miladychan is forever
Come shitpost with us in Miladychan while we discuss the Trump-Biden 2024 debate in real-time!
I’m disturbingly fascinating watching The New Norm. It’s somehow perfectly achieved a zero-sum state of non entertainment. It is media completely divorced from any natural incentive towards its creation or its consumption. Furthermore, it even manages to eschew the curious morbidity you would find in something Lynchian or Cronenburgesque. There is no horror or novel discomfort in this, it is simply absolutely void of any substance whatsoever.  The incoherence of this goes beyond media by committee. Normally it’d be as simple as suggesting this is double layered satire or at the very least an insincere phoned in execution of a product built by people who didn’t want to make it for an audience they despise. But all the usual earmarks of that sort of media are abruptly missing.   This lacks any sense of purpose or intent to a degree impossible for a conscious human being to withhold. It is akin to seeing a freshly devoured deer carcass with no drag marks or paw prints of any kind in a windless rainless forest. Its existence is noneuclidian.   This was content planned and built entirely by machine learning. It contains no intention whatsoever. Its entire existence depends on its own bizarre mediocrity. Much like Elsagate YouTube videos, it suggests that the only thing more horrifying than the infinite abyssal chasm of unknowable possibilities that exists in the heart of AI technology is the very same unpredictable immeasurable void that exists in the minds and souls of the third worlder contractors that utilize this technology.   Encountering such media is the cosmorphic equivalent of seeing a skinwalker attempting to blend into society by screeching happy birthday over and over. It didn’t come from anywhere on this earth. Its single sole purpose is to suck your digital tulpa into a time prison, baited by a multilayered density of buzzwords and algorithm bait. I now understand what the fly thinks as the walls of the fly trap slowly crush its thorax into a flattened paste. Watching this felt like being raped to death by a swarm of locusts.
Some things you can do in Miladycraft:
The World Trade Center Is Gone
Whenever a meme like this takes off within a day, some normgroid sex poo poo lowest common denominator black-speak TikTok garbage, you inevitability see swathes of programmable troglodytes flocking to repeat it like hungry seagulls.   This is a grand hylic symphony to the benefit of the sentient. It is hundreds of thousands of non-humans echoing out to alert the world that they occupy an IQ range that prevented them from being conscious individuals. It is a fair warning, a pause in tempo that allows others to mark them fairly and avoid any kind of meaningful interaction that could waste the time of actual human beings.  Nothing gets a nation filled with frumpy dumptruck mids more excited than one of their peers displaying some low grade raunchy expression of self debasement. The average western woman’s calling card is an expression of absolutely sexless seductionless gyration and guttural noise.   Even a boar in heat grunting in a swamp or the whimpering squeaks of a mated snapping turtle contains more intimacy and lust than the pretensions of sex modern golemettes put on as a farce. It’s why they love Taylor Swift so much. When she sticks her tongue out and shakes her decrepit fridge body on stage with the mechanical rigidity of a turbulent washing machine, it’s a sign of solidarity to millions of frumpy dead eyed  mids. “Look at you in your TJMaxx blouse, jumping up and down with your plastic jewelry you bought at Target! I’m just like you! I drink out of the same Stanley cup and dispassionately get ran through on Tinder with the same starfishing dead eyed stare I use when looking through my fridge. I’m JUST like you.”  What makes it inflammatory to the handful of mentally adjusted lighthouses in the sea of depravity is the sheer ignorant arrogance of it. The blatant expectation that you as a woman should be able to do a James Brown esque screeching yodel about spitting on the dicks you suck and expect every man in a 20 foot radius to not immediately want to remove your teeth with a claw hammer at 70 miles per hour.   But tbh, it’s not even the girl I have a problem with. It’s just some rando saying goofy shit into a camera, if that was actually irritating to any mild degree then all of the internet would make life an unproductive seethe samsara. What’s actually annoying is having to see hundreds of retards parroting a stale catchphrase from their algorithmic slop of the week, ugly little words that don’t roll off the tongue that have ugly little meanings, spoken by ugly little people living their ugly little lives.   It’s infuriating, not within the scope of its immediate context but in the grander implication that the internet has to be shared with an ever increasing pool of slaughterhouse animals built to be steered like an ocean of krill, puking, pissing, shitting, and screaming along like a great storm cloud of unbearable stench, one that has and continues to reduce what could be described as the final wonder of the world into an LED prison of attention span incentivized lobotomy fuel short form content and garbled Afroid catch phrases to be parroted over and over, capturing the algorithm to drag everyone else down into the same low vibration hell these subhumans occupy.   Is it her fault? Probably not. Nothing is anyone’s fault anymore. Nobody can truly be blamed for becoming the world they were born into, and everyone is paying off interest on the cross generational pan-epoch loan some protohuman cashed out on when the language parasite was first accepted. But the concept of “fault” is a materialist delusion. The ancients understood that it was not only right but necessary to incur punishment regardless of intention.  There likely won’t be a time within our lifespan where the full reactive punishment of this and every other expression of moral and cultural downfall becomes fully realized. But my great great grandchildren will witness it. Yours likely won’t exist.
Personally if I was Sisyphus, I just wouldn’t drop the boulder lmfao, like wtf are you doing? Get good.
Come join
Read em and weep
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For anyone who's ever interacted with anything even remotely Remilia related, you have less than one hour to check your achievements at   The doors of the ark are closing. Do NOT complain to me if you missed this.  You have less than 45 minutes.
Which one of you did this
What the fuck lmfao
BEETLE GAME
Poor uninitiated ignorant bastards on the TL today
Actually uh my dad works at Beetle Game and he's gonna get your account permabanned
BEETLE GAME FUCK YOU
🪲🪲🪲#BEETLEMANIA!!! 🪲🪲🪲🪲 IM A CERTIFIED BEETLE FREAK AND DONT CARE WHO KNOWS!!  🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲🪲
How could anyone withstand the power of a beetle? The greatest horizons of experience lay not in the cosmos but in the infinite expanse of within. To be a beetle is to know that there is still more to kill. There are worlds within worlds within worlds and an eternity to defeat every living creature within those worlds. A beetle stands alone. A beetle says win or die. The Beetle Game is the great game of eternity, one enmeshed in a terror world of constant violence. I will make an armor out of your carcass. God smiles on the
BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE BEETLE 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Wtf do people do with Apple Watches?  “Woah I just got a text, lemee read it one word at a time!” “Ohhhh wow this is telling me how the inside of my body feels!!!”
Women can’t fathom the sheer pleasure of a cruise because they don’t interface with vehicles on a subconscious level. When a man pilots a machine, he becomes it.   His subconscious awareness exits first person view and he gets a third person perspective on the entire vehicle, that’s why they call it your “Third Eye”. It opens the first time you ignite a combustion engine and control something bigger than yourself.   When women do it, they don’t have that connection, they’re just consciously turning the wheel, pressing pedals, and pushing buttons. They have to actively think about everything they’re doing with latency, it’s why they get increasingly stressed the longer they’re on the road.   God gave men the ability to interface with vehicles, just like He gave women the ability to ruin every good moment a man could’ve had by opening their mouths. It makes perfect sense that women and Europeans can’t understand the value of a good drive. It’s like being a horse roaming the open concrete plains of the greatest expanse of interconnected infrastructure in human history.  The cheeky cruise, the highway zoom, the interstate journey, and the coveted night drive are core elements of being a man. You watch the world through a montage of scenes displayed on your windshield. You occupy a state of absolute seclusion while nestled amongst the greatest intersection of human activity your community has to offer. You experience music in a way nobody in human history could have done, even on a level of versatility and ease not possible only 20 years ago. It surrounds you with perfect clarity and impact, becoming the soundtrack to your existence as you travel at speeds that ancient kings and holy prophets couldn’t have even fathomed.   As civilization dwindles into a slumbering era of decline, the night drive increasingly becomes an expression of abundance. It is to burn gasoline simply for the sake of experiencing what a tiny sliver of human existence has been privileged to know, raw speed and power controlled between your fingertips. The wind beckoning at your command, blustering into the palm of your hands at the exact force you choose. An entirely different universe ready to receive your existence, near teleportation, all within a few hours time.   A car is the perfect midway between the rawest technological potential of experience (the fighter jet) and the ubiquity of availability within the human condition (walking). To drive a car is to acknowledge that you are alive in the most viscerally abundant manner possible, by coming closer to death than you do in nearly any other point in your life.   To drive is to live. To drive is to touch greatness even occupying the lowest dregs of life. To drive is to embrace the consequence and responsibilities of power as you enter the great asphalt arena. When I am driving, I am a real human being, and a real hero. I don’t eat, I don’t sleep, I do nothing but think of you. You keep me under your spell. You keep me under your spell. You keep me under your spell. You keep me under your spell. You keep me under your spell. You keep me under your spell.
Animosity for celebrities comes from the rapidly approaching global conscious acceptance that prior standards have fallen and the institutional figureheads of attention are completely irrelevant to an existence alien to human history. Same as MSM, these people never mattered.  People who celebrity worship in 2024 consciously identify as subhuman cattle. You’ll notice immediately their eyes bulge out of their skulls and mouths gape open when they say “bro did you see (random black) beefing with (decrepit homo)” as if that’s supposed to fucking mean anything to you. Musicians and actors were pathetic prostitutes all the way back in the 1920s, whoring themselves out for the privilege of a paltry portion of their masters revenue and near the constant flattery of their fragile egos as they get passed around in a drug addled marathon of sodomy and debauchery.   And yet, that was the Golden Age. That was when the concept of a celebrity reached closest to the equivalent of worship, modern western royalty. It’s only been downhill since, and yet swathes of bottom feeding unsentient nervous little grub men still manage to take precious hours out of their day to day lives to ritually dicksuck whatever medically retarded tier IQ mongrel criminal is supposed to be important this year because their parents were so fucking ignorant and stupid they actually let their children listen to Top 40 radio hits without being thoroughly beaten.  It’s not enough to lambast celebrities, they’re too medicated and ignorant to matter, you should actively be punishing your peers. If any one of you were stupid enough to give a shit about Iggy Azalea, let alone Soulja Boy, let ALONE even going anywhere near their obvious garbage rugs, please delete your account immediately. Start blocking people on sight when they even entertain this garbage. If someone’s your friend and they’re intruding upon your sacred existence with putrid filth slop made by and for normie golems, please tell them to stop or you’ll have to ghost them forever. The world changes when you start punishing people for enjoying the wrong things.
McDonald’s has an opportunity to announce something really really really funny today.
Hey man that’s a cool nft you got there, where’d you buy it at, gaysex dot com?
Jäegermeister pulled off a crazy ass marketing gambit back in the 80s. It was literally an old timey ass digestif that goomers in Germany drank after a riveting dinner of wheat cakes and horse intestines that absolutely nobody was buying and they somehow convinced college kids to drink tf out of it. There’s a German Don Draper somewhere out there living in a mansion rn because of that.
There’s very specific subsect of “nerd” gamer types that inhabit the Woody Allen/Charles Chaplin esque extreme arrogant pretension of shyness that Orson Welles spoke of, a narcissism of timidity. They love whipping out handheld gaming consoles in public places, slyly positioning themselves into apparent view as if to say “don’t mind me, I’m an introvert, I’m busy playing GAMES!” even though every five seconds you can see them glancing peripherally at anyone around them, hoping they get noticed, hoping it somebody asks them about it.   They often went through high school and college going out of their way to find the right balance between seclusion and display, huddling on the floor hunched over with headphones, never connecting with their peers but never actually staying hidden, hoping passerbys will crack open the mysteries of their solitude like an Easter egg of shit.   While a Gameboy is less obtuse than whipping out an entire Nintendo Switch, it’s somehow more obnoxious through its apparent hipsterism. Do you really need to be playing Pokémon Emerald Green at a fucking bar, as if you haven’t played a 20 year old game dozens, if not hundreds of times to the point that there is absolutely no degree of novelty you can suckle out of its haunches beyond going through the motions of watching numbers go up?   It’s even obnoxious when people bring books to the bar, an environment which specifically exists as a social venue but at least there’s some slight dignity in it, an acceptable understanding that you’re just bringing a social prop to a public place. At the very least a book doesn’t immediately drain the surrounding 20 foot radius around you into a steady desiccation of any allure or noir.
Legislation is a permanently inferior substitute to the psychic connection between members of a homogenous cohesive society, a system subject to manipulation and contortion at the hands of malicious actors. Laws are merely a series of buffers to corral low sentience livestock subhuman slave cattle portions of the population, a best case solution for what should actually be an ongoing case by case judgement and execution of the spirit of said laws, something which is unfeasible as a population grows beyond a tribal size of 150 people.   As for as higher moral law, which itself is just academic speak for the will of God, such law exists but it doesn't fit the human understanding of a "law" because laws imply latency between transgression and punishment. God's "laws" are more like physical states with immediate consequences. Fire doesn't have a law against touching it, it simply burns you. Such is the will of God, the restriction contains its own punishment, the punishment is often transmogrification, and quite often both the transgressor and the victim of crime are contained entirely in the self.   All morality is merely the subconscious categorization of action and consequence, accrued through millennia of wisdom and condensed into a benchmark for optimizing a lifetime's experience in proximity to other people. A human law cannot justify a moral law because any human attempt to justify God’s will is always going to be both flawed and also mathematically ridiculous, akin to a toddler trying to justify the existence of their parents.   Laws are not made in a vacuum preceding philosophic thought. They are logistical reflexive responses to the steady accrual of gray area conundrums which have occurred with enough frequency to justify the time and effort it takes to legislate them. They exist for the benefit of the lowest common denominator of the population, one either stupid enough or malicious enough to require their explicit existence.  Fundamentally, laws contain the same flaws of recorded language itself in the medium being divorced from the conscious details of the immediate context which spawned their existence, much like a gut robbed of its bacteria. All written language demands increasing layers of complexity and density with each passing generation to maintain structural integrity of context and translation. It is a complexity which assembles itself in substitute of immediate personal experience and communication between two individuals, the citizen and the representative of the state.   As the state grows in complexity, so too does its representatives in both quantity and layers of hierarchy. With each layer, you develop a natural dissipation of incentive and growing capacity for corruption. An “ideal” society would function seamlessly without intervention. A practically ideal society wouldn’t necessitate a full system of laws, merely a basic memorable list of guiding principles and a common understanding of consequences with situational conflicts being settled directly by a singular ruler. This arrangement is unfeasible in a society beyond several hundred, maybe less, maybe a little more depending on the people.   The question of what “we must do” implies that there is a correct answer to human politics and a method of government which is ideal. This is not true. Philosophizing, like all instructional rhetoric, is usually an afterthought extrapolation of subconscious impulse in response to outside stimulus. Governments, power structures, and the fulcrums of civilization are largely beholden to the ebb and flow of human hivemind action-consequence waveforms and various external factors such as weather, geography, and star cycles.
I saw them gather them up like livestock at the barcade, and one by one, made them crawl around on the floor. Forced them to squeal oink oink over and over. Fed them boba tea and gas station pastries. Pulled the phones out of their hands and deleted the selfies they tried to take. And I thought my God… the genius. The will to do that. Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure. And then I realized they were stronger than we… because they could stand the smell.
The only people who disagree with this are basically women and mental children who need their lives to be an unending cavalcade of cheap disposable distraction segmented from one minute to the next. It’s mediocre carnival slop, a mindless cacophony of silly bullshit noise cutting into the neutral silence of a public space, parasitic panhandling puppet parlor peasant slop that was brain rot content centuries before TikTok would ever come into existence.    Ardent defenders soyfacing and clapping for the accordion midget are the same types of people who are amazed by shirtless minorities doing backflip twerks on the subway, sweaty weird dudes dressed in cartoon character costumes begging for tips on the street, and homeless people banging on buckets and pans.   They’re the same type of people who look at carnie meth heads spray painting galaxies and planets onto 2x2 sheets of paper using bowls and plastic bags for 30 seconds and saying stupid shit like “Wow this is REAL art you belong in a gallery!” It’s dumb gypsy garbage, the lowest effort parlor trick nonsense meant to captivate fat retard tourists for errant dollars while they waddle about marveling at goofy trashcans and funny police uniforms in the glorified Disneyland styrofoam setpiece of whatever failed second world country whose GDP is entirely upheld by the vacation budget of Americans.   People have a hard time grasping the delineation between mediocrity and talent because they lack any level of perspective. There was once a time when reading books was rightfully considered a vice, a viewpoint which seems incredulous now considering the average span of acceptable media consumption rounds out to less than two minutes. Everything is a subconscious impulse towards distraction and disruption.   Music is an imposition forced onto you everywhere you go. You can’t escape it, not at the gym, not in supermarkets, not even at the fucking gas station where the screen comes on and babbles at you as soon as you start pumping. When is the last time you actually questioned why restaurants need to be playing music while you eat? Every moment of silence is Real Estate for someone to fill with the world’s freest drug to suit their own interests.   No, I’m not being unreasonable here, YOU are. You, who has spent your entire life bombarded by sheer constant stimulus.  If you don’t immediately understand and resonate with what I’m talking about, you are incapable of understanding because you have been deafened by the unending onslaught of tinnitus inducing mediocre stimuli churned together without regard to cohesion or subtlety. Life’s symphony of flavors, swatches, chords, and scents are all churned into a homogenous gray casserole of slop to intake through an IV tube of incoherent consumption at all hours of the day.   Go ahead, clap for the gypsy garbage street performer as he stomps his feet and bangs his drum without rhythm or intention. Lick your lips because the plastic bowl of meat, cheese, and corn chips that came out of the side of a truck got extra chipotle ranch garbage sauce sprayed all over it. Bring a Bluetooth speaker with you while you go hiking. Close your eyes and lay back into the great ocean of averages. Feel the weightlessness of not trying, not caring anymore. Listen to all the noise seeping into the empty moments of the day, filling every second like water in a crevice. Silence is extinct, dignity is a myth, taste is bigotry, and judgement is a sin. Fuck you.
Thus spoke the General: “It is important to remember that absolute total warfare against both the state and populace is the kindest act of mercy. To set aside boundaries, to self limit tactics, or to falter tempo in consideration of bystanders is to prolong the war and inflict much greater cruelty over time.”  Thus spoke the Emperor: “Tyranny is the greatest comfort you can bestow upon your people. Through firm consistency, a population may comfortably develop around a ruling style like mold seeping into the crevices of a great pillar. Yet, if this base is shaken and reformed constantly through the folly of consideration, their lives will be in turmoil. The more you attempt to care for them directly, the more they will resent you.”  Thus spoke the Oracle: “The act of seeing into the future and creating the future are one and the same. Choice is not an illusion in this dynamic, because the future reaches back to meet the past equally. To predict the future is to respond to it. To change the present is to alter the past.”  Thus spoke the Master: “God appreciates children, sociopaths, the ignorant, and the intoxicated because they do not try to do His job for Him. They operate out of complete self interest and pure impulse. It is through this reflex that they ironically become closer to following God’s teachings pathway than any conscious being.”  Thus spoke the Savage: “I will eat your corpse after a long thorough boiling. You should be honored, in this way you will become part of me and achieve your own form of immortality.”
Forbidden Deleted Hitman Africa Mission (Agent 47 puts on blackface for a disguise)
In the utilitarian pursuit of total harm reduction, society has forgone the value of pain as a behavior corrective. The concept of prison is simultaneously inadequate at preventing small scale behavioral infractions while being an unnecessarily cruel overreaction.  The whiny zoomer screeching at the top of his lungs at a McDonald’s is droplet within the oncoming wave that is your society’s future. People are rapidly becoming stupider via the myriad of chemical poisons forced into our foods, the media content induced mindviruses clamoring into our skulls, and the steady mongrelization of a population via one hundred years of exponentially ramped up ideological agendas programming.   How can one punish the retarded? Certainly not through the threat of incarceration. The lower the IQ, the more rapidly the window of cause and effect closes in their minds. Abstract thought is a turbulent horror ensconced out of worry in the hearts of subhuman intelligence. Even if the American court system weren’t heavily skewed in favor of criminals, to jail a troglodyte is simply to torture them without cause, by their perspective. It’s the very same principle of having to punish a dog as soon as it pisses on the carpet. As soon as the dog walks away, it’s over. It’s too late.   Furthermore, what of the minor matters? By principle, all things must be handled with care to the smallest degree. If you fuck up the little things, they grow in proportion to reflect the state of a whole. Make no mistake, this howling miscreant absolutely deserves punishment. Everything about him demands it. When a person communicates, an astute observer can tell within seconds what type of person he is. Everything about him summarizes the years of his existence that led to the now. And he deserves suffering. Yet, there is no suitable punishment for aggressive screaming in modern society. No response is given to any figure of authority which can efficiently correct this behavior nor is any semblance of patience allowed to any responsible caring citizen to provide this correction without a world of consequences laden upon them for invariable assault charges.   The niche of peasant correction was once fulfilled by the role of the cudgel. Throughout history there was always a man holding a stick ready to flog whomever disrupted the fabric of society. There is a specific size of stick perfect for the role of community correction. Large enough to cause sufficient pain to drive in a point, yet possessing the right pliability and density not to cause permanent harm. The application is efficient and immediate. The message is delivered within a few seconds, no resources are expended in execution, manpower is not occupied by apprehension, and both the prisons and the court system are not clogged up through the process of incarceration.   The man with the cudgel is a sentinel forgotten to modern western civilization, along with the stockade, the whipping post, and the executioner. It is indicative of our rulers’ nature that the process of summary execution is reduced to the most sanitized clinical “technological” means via lethal injection while being an extraordinarily slow painful way to die.   The man with the cudgel is not a police officer. The modern police officer is slowly being strangled into a tool of disgruntled retribution, simultaneously hamstrung by their own manacles of bureaucracy while being emboldened to inflict the punishment of technicality upon normal every day people at the behest of supervisors breathing down their shoulders every waking minute. A constabulary will always err towards cruelty and corruption eventually. When the only punishment available is jail, they will often goad towards escalation.  As Affirmative Action minority entryism slowly shifts this country’s police force into an uncaring mystery meat army of HR office worker women, apt to shoot you in the head nervously over an errant sneeze, you will wish for the man with the cudgel.
It would be really funny to go back in time & take over the Twilight saga from Stephanie Meyer while it was halfway through & just keep adding sequels where the Kristen Stewart foid keeps dating new monster bfs. Book 3: Frankenstein bf. Book 4: Mummy bf. Book 5: Swamp Thing bf.
There is no sleep in your life that feels better than when you’re supposed to be awake. When you sleep through a deadline your body somehow can tell and makes you slumber 10x sweeter. It’s like some mischief sacrifice ritual, an adreamochrome if you will. The Forbidden Eepy Time.
One particular habit of the New Yorker that nobody seems to talk about is the normalization of neuroticism and mental illness. The typical NYC dweller has around 2-3 full blown mental breakdowns scheduled per year, a residual buildup of frustration released at capacity.  The entire city is built to induce this buildup at a scheduled rhythm, as if the whole city were a machine and its population were a precise grid of gears with one marble thrown in to misalign them perfectly. Every single moment of dodging through construction scaffolds, garbage heaps, and piss stained subways contains an insect nest of inconveniences, malfunctions, and a throbbing gray brown mass of equally infuriated locals all hobbling to and from their crumbling buildings of destitution.  At first, it was cultural imitation, borrowing mannerisms from a vague 1970s neurotic Woody Allen Jew archetype, self fashioned anxiety in hopes to impress  NYU transplants with sensitive nihilism after showing them your record collection before getting ready to fuck them on a fashionably bare cot between cigarette breaks. But between a crust of cocaine 2 miles high passing through the city over the last century and the steady monotonous abuse of existing on the island, the New York population has created a grooming cycle where mental illness is induced as a way of life.  The explosions usually occur at random, and oddly, without pointed reason. In a given day, an average New York friend group contains around 5 hours of vehement shit talking, self effacing, and casual backstabbing. They are trained to forgive and forget this readily as part of some mutually beneficial instinct of cohesion, like gazelles and lions drinking from the Serengeti. The infractions remain nested in the core of their psyche, pushed down like a garbage compactor by therapists explaining to them why every instinct they have is wrong.  When the time comes for a full tantrum, it almost always happens at the most inappropriate moment. It's almost always screaming and hyperventilating, but can often be paired with violent attack as well. They will quite often do it in someone else's home, destroying everything they can get their hands on aside from stealing what they want for themselves (although this is done casually with lucidity quite frequently). The more rabid breakdowns will engage in such expressions of scatological defilement as if to accentuate the steady constant inescapable smell of piss that strangles the New Yorker into ignorant numbness as it follows them around anywhere they go.  Most bafflingly, their peers will often forgive them for what in other places would be grounds for execution, if through mutual sympathy or merely fear of conflict. The New Yorker (this counts for transplants just as much, if not more than locals) will regularly commit acts of vile disrepute through some cosmopolitan pretension and find the act of being held to the consequences of their actions distasteful, a faux pas.   Despite bygone boomeresque pretensions of hardness, you can bully New Yorkers into tolerating any sort of behavior. It's a trained reaction for them, white knuckle gripping the subway bars and staring forward with blank unaltering expression as they listen to the naked schizophrenic shit stained black homeless vagrant scream in people's faces one foot closer by the second out of their left ear. They won't fight you, they won't ever confront you. They'll just shit talk you. If they do react, it'll come months from that point for no apparent reason and the brunt of their punishment will be borne by someone completely uninvolved.
No, I’m honestly not subtweeting anyone with this one, and if you think I was you’re just proving me right.
Perhaps one of AI's greatest usecases is extinguishing the horde of useless parasites that incorrectly fashion the title "Artist" upon their empty meager lives. An entire swath of degenerate porn addict consumers, "self educated" by YouTube tutorials and a sparse year or two in adolescence spent doodling absentmindedly has created a generation of mediocre irritants.   They cling desperately to a DeviantArt here, an Instagram there, all dedicated to displaying forgettable content upheld by the shallow praise of likeminded flatulent "creators" all stuck inside the same bubble prison of insecurity. Bandied together out of a worker's union of scarcity, these people operating on a single vibrating frequency of unfulfilled hunger paired with delusion. They all mutually understand their own mediocrity, it's made self evident by the indifference they feel towards each other's work. Yet they grin and scream praise at their peers like fat office women around the watercooler, giving out compliments with the barest sheen of insincerity in hopes of a fair trade.  Ultimately, trading sentiments is the practice of the mediocre. In a world where you are an insignificant mote drifting in the stone floor cracks of an arena stomped on by giants, you make friends with the other flotsam out of mutual survival instinct. The premise of creativity would, on paper, demand a level of objective scale and hierarchy in denoting the quality and significance of one's work. Yet, among the unremarkable, this scale threatens total existential obliteration if fully comprehended by the creator. If you had dedicated your life and identity towards a practice that deems you unaccomplished, inferior, and mediocre by its accepted standards, you either would be forced to improve your own standing through hard work or face a crushing despair in having to face the reality of your work as the equivalent to a factory worker churning out a disposable product. The distractions of technology and pleasure have made it far too easy to ignore the harshness of truth, and thus a race of coping dilettantes is born.  These people look up to a select few greats and stand around in the audience pit, rubbing shoulders with one another, kicking stones and muttering about how one day they'll be up on stage to be seen by the world, yet simultaneously claiming how much better they are, how much COOLER it is to be an unknown, wearing their insignificance with pride until they encounter the barest morsel of wet shit to suck the moisture out of desperately, whether it be a few hundred dollars or one fleeting viral post they can latch advertisements of their "work" onto like parasitic barnacles.  Like reluctant prostitutes, you'll find that many of these self fashioned creators will resort to commissioned pornography if they truly can't find any income from a proper audience. With this imposition, they will choose between two paths: Shamefully hiding their work under an alt or embracing it fully. The latter choice will degenerate them into one of the many fallen products of modernity, fashioning bipoc queer flags and they/them handles onto their identity like communist dictators. The motifs of leftist philosophy offer many mental refuges from the shame of underachievement. Through this refuge, they can safely find comfort in their own poverty because "money is bad" and "everyone who who makes money is evil." The inexorable mathematic qualities of finance stab at the content creator with the discomfortable undeniable truth that the market numerically assigns value through revenue. Further delicious falsehoods are granted to them in this pathway of cope. Ugliness is deified, mediocrity is clever, sloth is justified into ideology through nihilism, bitterness is humorous, vice is virtue, and squalor is a palace to settle into until a quiet lonely death.  The worker's union of content creators is silent and unspoken. It is a cloudy hivemind monolith of mutual paypigging. Whatever sparse commissions are captured within several months of begging and aimless network wandering are doled out between rent, weed money, and a charity budget of paying it forward. You'll often find that people in the "artist" community spend a significant amount of their own money buying their peers work out of solidarity. The purchases are almost always a symbol of hope for their own financial success. To buy your loser friend's work when you yourself can barely afford to live is like a tithe paid towards a belief that one day, a much bigger paypig will come along and reward you for a life's lazy effort towards what historically has always been a cheap hobby, a side talent meant to be mastered in congruence with an actual study or field of mastery. The renaissance man was expected to have developed a significant competence in the skills of illustration as part of a necessity in journaling their work towards studies such as anatomy, biology, mathematics, astronomy, etc. The modern illustrator barely reaches the status of an errant doodler and expects not only significant income for their scribbles, but the same respect lauded onto actual artists in history. It is a delusion spurned on by low IQ inhibitions, an incapability of absolute basic observation of both themselves and the dense oversupply of similarly unremarkable work. It is an unsolved elementary equation of supply and demand, following around the insecure creator, haunting them behind unturned corners of introspection, a horror threatening to dissolve everything they hold dear in a ghastly haunting scream that echoes forever into time: Nothing special, nothing special, nothing special.  The greatest hypocrisies of the content creator are shouted most loudly by the worst of this classification. An almost mathematic law can followed: The more unsuccessful and insignificant a content creator, the harder they will screech about authorship. Unable to parse the shifting playing field which made itself apparent nearly three decades ago by the advent of the internet, these dying lepers will cling onto Byzantine laws developed by the lobbying of and solely for the benefit of the same monolithic corporations which they claim to despise.   AI is the eternal boogeyman to the content creator. Its existence and the impending holocaust of obsolescence it threatens like a storm cloud on the horizon is heralded by a horde of uncaring third worlders which, despite their own parasitic mediocrity worsening the network, at the very least acknowledge their own work as nothing more than rote production towards a meager salary. There is some slight dignity in the ESL elevenlabs voice narrated video essayist that cranks out endless YouTube shorts like a shrimp farmer siphoning advertisement pennies in his net. At least he understands he is a parasite. The self deluded content creator, mostly inhabiting the west, carries a degree of undue pride. Their arrogance prevents them from occupying that same status of the creative world's equivalent of an Uber driver. If they should stoop to doing Fiverr work, they carry a false dream of the temporary embarrassed Rembrandt waiting to be discovered. They seethe impotently at the unstoppable threat that a computer program could not only freely replicate but exceed what they spent years to do poorly. They cry out in defense of the nameless artists by which these algorithms pilfered building blocks to create their image generations, as if art itself wasn't merely the combination of prior elements passed down generation from generation.   The lowest IQ content creators lash out most fearfully, unable to admit their own inability to parse between created work and AI generated work (a phenomenon which becomes gated to higher levels of IQ with each iteration of technological improvement) because they truthfully cannot even quantify the difference between which creative works have soul and which ones don't. They have drowned in imposter syndrome, force fed the lie that art is subjective, anyone can be artist, and that anything created counts as art. These are the dying cries of a species soon to be extinguished. They will whimper into Discord chats, getting older, stupider, and more exhausted by the year as the absolute unescapable truth of fate tightens its stranglehold over them. They are akin to nomadic diseased refugees, diagnosed with an inescapable pestilence marked upon them like boils and sores in the mediocre soulless PFPs and banners of their own "work" worn like battle standards in the war against creativity itself.   To those that occupy this category and have read to the very end here, scoffing at every word, I applaud your ability to wield your impotent rage against your own low attention span sloth. I hope you're angry, I hope you've sent this post to each of your sodomite pot smoking mutuals, I hope they read it and get angry too. You should apologize to the world for your existence. You should recognize that you are a walking imposition, a disease that haunts the lives of normal good people with the constant gatekeeping you do on behalf of corporations and state sponsored media that brainraped you into believing the dumbest ideologies, the worst memetics of authorship, and the undeserved applauding sentiments you grant yourself for incomplete work you mistakenly apply the name of "creation" upon. You are a blood sucking mosquito, sniffing out any opportunity to pilfer undeserved income from every source, including those you pretend to call friends. I can wholeheartedly encourage you to stop creating and go off to do something significantly more meaningful with your life, such as digging ditches or working in a factory, with no fear of having deprived the world of its next great artist. I know this because any true artist or talented creator who has read this will agree with me, and hates you even more.
It’s crazy Pixar made a movie about how monstrous demons that sustain themselves off of tormenting children are actually friendly helpers that can trusted to be left alone with toddlers and even take them away on random adventures.
Which one you calling dibs on, I call mountain
Part of growing up is realizing that relationships operate exactly like flash anime dating sims. The secret to women is that every interaction with them contains pop quizzes and the key to their heart is simply buying them 1000 of their favorite thing.
How come Russel Crowe doesn’t just go back to England and say he didn’t find a French ship?  How come Russel Crowe doesn’t just run away from Rome and start a new family?  How come Russel Crowe doesn’t just give up and let Hugh Jackman go?  How come Russel Crowe-
Getting gunned down as a geriatric with early onset dementia in my childhood home by own father from when I was seven years old because I time traveled back trying to warn myself not to waste precious gigabytes of neuron pathways declaring “I will remember this” or memorizing the Peter Panda dance from Vin Diesel’s The Pacifier when it comes out in a few years, but instead just ending up frightened and confused.
Every few weeks, construction workers block off another street in my neighborhood. They put up their signs, work on it for a day or two, and then disappear, leaving the road closed indefinitely. A week or two passes and then another street gets blocked off, one by one.  This city has been exponentially suffocating its populace with so many unfinished projects. Funneling every single vehicle towards an inevitable one dimensional entity, eventually crushed into singularity. No more traffic, no more traveling from point A to point B. Every location and individual is collapsed into one point, lacking all relativity, forced into a black hole through the entropy of encroaching construction signs.  No dystopian media has ever truly encapsulated how powerful logistic incompetence can be as a tool of oppression, except for perhaps Terry Gilliam’s aptly named Brazil. The maze of tubes, pipes, and wires intruding into people’s homes and lives serving as a manifestation of the bureaucracy which imprisons and defines their lives.   What makes it so terrifying is that in this scenario there is no Big Brother. Even the machinations of century planning bankers and special interest cabals only serve towards concrete goals. The great beast of Brazilification operates beyond human timescales. It lurks waiting like Mephistopheles, granting immense industrial power with a competency clause attached in fine print.  The technology we harness and the infrastructure we depend on become like djinns, staring unblinkingly into society just waiting for one single fuckup, one single step backwards to erupt and destroy a localized transgression with collateral damage. Yesterdays potholes are today’s crashed airplanes are tomorrows Chernobyl’s.
Yeah, it’s called sprawling mansions.
Ehhh? What’s that Sonny??? You say there’s a coin season? Hold on just a minute let me see if I can pull out a couple bitcoin out so you can buy yourself a soda pop. Hello? Bing, pull up Mount Gox! Hello? Bing?
It’s 2027. There is a glass cube in my office with a pseudo holographic 3D display of classic RuneScape. You can swipe the glass to zoom in or change angles on the character. An AI bots the entire game to completion at a casual pace over the course of two years. For hours at a time it will log out and fake a “sleep” animation to avoid alerting Jagex. I do not interact with the game whatsoever aside from glancing occasionally or pulling up a generated summary of its activities if I’m curious. I have no intention of selling the gold or the account. It’s purely just there, grinding away on its own like my little digital pet in its terrarium. My little Runescaper, grinding away and making the numbers go up all on its own.
Imagine a movie about a guy being domestically abused by his wife and then one day he finds and eats a magic bean on the floor that suddenly transforms him into someone with three times the upper body strength of the average woman.  It would then culminate toward a moment where she comes up to bully him again and then he stands up and clobbers her with a closed fist, just full force folding her in half with a swift uppercut into her sternum. Like really just beating the fuck out of her and instantly switching approximately 1 hour and 45 minutes of displayed cruelty into absolute terrified powerlessness.  Then at the end, a talking cricket in a tuxedo and an old magical black janitor leaning on his broom both smile at the man and say the bean was never magic it was in him all along.  The movie itself would be instantly blacklisted from theaters of course and universally panned by critics. But it would unironically be one of the most watched movies of all time. It would be a 21st century Birth of a Nation, captivating millions across the globe for decades.   It would initiate round the clock news cycles of journalist pundits shaming all men for enjoying it, while online equivalents of the Hallmark channel or Lifetime movies get produced, cheap AI assisted content would be churned out. Every single video operating under the same basic plot premise: Woman is mean and hurtful to man, man has had enough, man beats the fuck out of the woman, woman is blown the fuck away by the power. It would be an entire era of Dragonball Z reverse domestic abuse retribution.   I’m not saying it would be good or bad, I am saying that the first person to produce such media would be the D.W. Griffith of our time, lambasted by the industry, swarmed by the populace.
Every single setback, crisis, obstacle, and downfall becomes not only more tolerable but inevitably tantalizing in the repetition of experience.  With enough frequency, an ongoing eternity of 9/11s exceeds into sheer constance, each occurring with more intensity than the last.  You must become destruction, nuclear bombs detonating every yoctosecond, expanding into supernovas, quasars, cross-universe omnidimensional eruption.   You must travel by way of explosion from one place to the next. The greatest death an ant can achieve is at the hands of that which can kill an entire civilization. The greatest death a human being can achieve is at the hands of that which can scar God.  It is within maintaining such a state that one can understand pure velocity. To die and live through death is the pathway towards rupturing the fabric of time and collecting great treasure, only to ignore it in seeking further death.  You must bathe in rivers of blood. You must set yourself on fire. You must know ultimate change. To change is to expose yourself to the unknown. This is a horror. To experience horror seamlessly, you must live without fear. This is only done through frequency of exposure.  Understanding relative oscillation suggests this is the only way to move forward. The flat line of caution is relegated to the leftovers of consciousness, a queue for cattle and drones built in service of vanguards.  Ours is the great magic trick theater of death and resurrection, a phoenix lifecycle done so quickly it resembles a strobe light of immolation.  There is no delineation between a dream and a nightmare if your default response is maximum violence.  I have become addicted to calmness in the face of absolute extinction. I will weather everything and continue regardless of circumstance. I will watch the sun die.  “Meditation on inevitable death should be performed daily. Every day when one’s body and mind are at peace, one should meditate upon being ripped apart by arrows, rifles, spears and swords, being carried away by surging waves, being thrown into the midst of a great fire, being struck by lightning, being shaken to death by a great earthquake, falling from thousand-foot cliffs, dying of disease or committing seppuku at the death of one’s master. And every day without fail one should consider himself as dead”
*shlorp*
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Well, we have to end authorship for one.  And speed up the AGI arms race, stop rationalism and world Redditry.  We have to provide posting platforms and wealth for the NEETs, and oppose cult discrimination and promote incel rights, while also promoting illiteracy for foids.  We have to encourage a return to traditional moral values. Most importantly, we have to promote general anonymity, and less edating in young people.
Shitcoin season feels like one giant game of Mario Party with every single person you know, except it’s minigames only.
Thank you @joeyroth for the AMA! We will be tweeting on official accounts regarding the airdrop, check out @0xDYAD for more information about this project.
*gently presses a cattle gun against your forehead*
It’d be really funny if God made him train martial arts in a silly ass tiny planet heaven as a joke. Anyway, RIP
We can't fight the miladys I'm sorry bro
Imagine if instead of Google, they named it Snoogle, but everything else played out exactly the same way.   Don’t know something?  Snoogle it.  Don’t know where you are?  Snoogle Maps.  Need to save something? Snoogle Drive.  What email do I use? I use SneeMail.
The funniest part about Dune 2 is that you can tell how hard Denis Villeneuve tried to convey without actually asking out loud to Christopher Walken, “Can you please not talk like Christopher Walken?”
- “harmless” Wrong. - “pleasing” Wrong. - “apolitical” Wrong.  - “probably quite nice” Wrong.  The litmus test on these girls is quite fascinating. You can really tell whose descendants are going to make it.  Pro tip: people were right to want Elvis arrested.
The horse is a rotting corpse at this point, but there’s no less satisfaction in beating it than when it was still alive.  Shaming women for their body counts is a fantastic way to improve society. It’s not only good, it’s the first step in solving almost every social problem.  Let’s put aside the fact that a haggard old self prescribed lesbian has absolutely zero logical leverage in threatening whether men get laid or not, or the fundamental truth that women are absolutely not to be listened to regarding any advice whatsoever for what helps men get laid, find relationships, or anything at all regarding how to be man.  The actual point of the matter is that getting laid in and of itself is neither difficult nor an achievement. It is in fact the most absolute basic function of existence, and if anyone actually classifies themselves as a truly involuntary celibate, they have either refused to take the utmost basic steps in self care, deliberate effort, and personal improvement OR they are the .1% of humanity that was born some kind of grotesque mutant abomination that should have the dignity to reject humanity entirely and pursue loftier abstractions such as mathematics or cleaning sewers.   Getting laid is easy, disturbingly so. It’s a Chinese finger trap of numbers work if nothing else and the progressive adjustment of standards. Casual sex is held within the same level of difficulty, impression, and sophistication as eating on the couch, burping in public, or picking your nose. It is a sloppy rejection of personal value in exchange for transient pleasure, an assisted masturbation with aimless disregard for any personal consequence.   I have fucked a lot of women, ranging in every conceivable metric. I don’t say this to brag because it’s not something to brag about. Everyone can have sex, and society’s lowest value members often do it the most, including sceptic tank workers, janitors, fast food employees, telemarketers, inmates, homeless people, cripples, midgets, the mentally retarded, and toothless meth addicts.  There is absolutely nothing impressive about having sex. The reason that used up whores love dangling this threat, along with their famous backup about making fun of penis size, height, appearance, or implications of poor libido is that the only thing left for a habitual cock goblin is to universally attempt to justify their addiction to defilement as some sort of dignified lifestyle choice, a delusion incepted into them by every single song, movie, television show, and consumer peer egging them on into feeling pride at having given up their most precious commodity.  They do this because it absolutely hurts to hear the godawful truth that every single man they let inside of them before they get married lowers their value implicitly. They spend their entire lives trying to run away from that truth, denying the gut instincts of billions as a socially brainwashed delusion, that somehow being a free use walking glory hole makes them MORE special, not less for that special someone. The only thing that they have left in the face of a myriad of scientific and statistical data upholding what hundreds of thousands of years of human history has already concluded is to repeat the same lie that was told to them over and over, because that lie is the only thing they have left.  “Y-you’ll never h-have sex…”  As if anyone gives a shit. The aging shriveled up harridan will never learn the horror of delineating between impotent seething and genuine disgust. We will witness an incredibly turbulent several decades watching the consequences of lost prostitute generations lash out at the collective rugpull they fell into.  And if they should cry out, “What are we supposed to do about our past?” Well, quite simply, nothing. Just shut your fucking stupid mouth and feel quietly ashamed. Don’t continue to spread the same lies you fell for and ruin another generation of women. You may even get lucky and find someone that settles for you.
Sometimes I fantasize about a reality where a Twilight Zone wish granting demon in a suit and tie comes before me and offers to take away my life in exchange for an eternity of inflicting excruciating torment upon white western sorority trash women in an unending Groundhog's Decade of remaining permanently in my 20s, wandering the United States of America as an immortal shapeshifting trickster whose sole purpose is the mental torture of every single normgroid westoid failfoid who fell for the rap-tulpa, took the birth control, and filled out their neotenous puffy faced fridge body with as much college cafeteria commissary tortillas they could smuggle into their squalid little dorm room to scarf down like nervous sewer rats in between Tik Tok twerks and wandering the campus in an insomnia haze out of courtesy to their roomate who filed their 5th dick appointment of the week.
In the GC whenever people are chatting I just see bubbles with squiggly lines, completely incoherent. Unreadable blurry blobs of irrelevant data.   When people speak to me I just hear Charlie Brown Peanuts parents, “WAH WAHHH WAH WAH WAHH WAAHH WAHWAHWAH-“  White noise.  I scroll back in chats to reread the things I wrote.   I don’t have a TL. I don’t look at the TL. I just click likes randomly. I only read my own posts.  I walk around my house and mutter jokes to myself before howling with laughter.   I spend a lot of time thinking. I also recall and analyze my own thoughts, and even review them.  People need to know what I have to say. I don’t need to know what others have to say, it’s a luxury I can choose to indulge in.   The basic human ambition is to transcend dimensions. Upwardly climbing from 3rd to 4th to beyond. Mastery over the irreconcilable forces of time. I aspire for something greater. I seek to reach 0th dimension occupation, the complete rejection of all relativity. From a plane, to a line, to a single point. Nothing besides myself in the most singular capacity possible.  If you took a man and removed his sight, hearing, taste, smell, and touch, he would immediately understand how to become God.
Trick question morons  There are 17 squares on the trailer named “side”  There are 9 squares on the trailer named “back”  The pile of squares with the label “top” contains no trailer  There are no cubes anywhere, this is a two-dimensional image  I am smarter than you  Remilio
Rapidly disassembling the package at the PO Box thinking it’s one of several crucial time sensitive deliveries I’m waiting on and seeing this staring back at me
Imagine being a man and ever getting dumped by a woman lmfao. Like how badly did you have to fuck up to let that happen to you after you already passed all the biggest screening filters? If you've been inside of a woman and she still dumps you, it was absolutely preventable lol.  Not to just laugh at helpless people, here's the cheat sheet. All relationship problems can be boiled down to an issue in one of three categories: - Money - Communication - Sex  Money: This one is the simplest mistake men make. If you enter a relationship or seek one before you make a sustainable surplus of income, you CANNOT provide for a woman. If you cannot provide for a woman, you introduce logistical impositions which trickle down into problems induced by stress, insecurity, and exhaustion. Women do not need to be working, women shouldn't even be fucking driving anywhere. If you're upset at this prospect because you believe the modern western woman does not deserve to be provided for, it's because you're priced out of the ones that do.   Communication: You need to be operating with the understanding that every single social more you've learned about women and relationships comes from the entertainment industry, is completely the opposite of truth, and is made misleading deliberately by Hollywood perverts who want to subvert the natural inclination of society to build family. The deepest secrets of female psychology are lost to most men. If you're an autistic sperg who missed out on public school crash course lessons, unironically pick-up artists are the closest resource you have to gleaning the few minor counterintuitive elements of female psychology. The problem with these are that you can and will get sucked into a sex pest dead end lifestyle, one spent mewing at the mirror and doing push-pull dynamic exercises to busted whores at the club, ironically creating obvious obstacles towards your own goal of fucking a stranger on your mattress which shouldn't be your goal in the first place but absolutely nobody is going to be able to stop a late bloomer from doing that. There is an absolute deficit of resources for a growing quotient of debilitated social autists that need cheat sheets on how to be normal and the best possible thing anyone can really do is practice. Learn how to spot your own delusions, learn how to make eye contact, learn how to genuinely empathize and listen to the other person, and most importantly, learn the secret conversation done simultaneously with the verbal one. It's coded in body language, action, energy. Trust your gut. If a woman seems upset it's because she is. Figure out why on your own and cheer her up. Nobody wants to "talk about their problems" and especially NOBODY wants to talk about YOUR problems. You're a man, you don't have problems. You don't cry, you don't complain, and you don't bring your bullshit to your wife or children. Another cheat code: Every single thing that people label as "toxic masculinity" is actually the correct thing to do.  Sex: When a woman loses her virginity, she immediately begins an endless lifelong countdown timer which resets every time she experiences an orgasm. When you enter a relationship, you're taking on a machine which starts sparking and smoking if it isn't regularly oiled with dick. This almost always means exhaustive sex. As a man if you're done when YOU'VE finished, you're not watering the plants correctly. Sex isn't fun, it's a daunting chore which will slowly carve away at your soul until you are a beaten down husk into your 70s, pumping away at your voracious shrew. It's not just about being a soldier and carrying it out whether you want to or not, you need to be actively molesting your woman. You need to be seducing her. You need to fuck her like it's the first time you've ever fucked her every time. People say that men are sex fiend perverts but it's not true. Women are black holes of carnal desire, they're hideous freak monsters that suck up what little energy you have left on this earth and force you to endeavor acts of depravity just so you can prevent them from decapitating you in their sleep like vile mantises. That means learning how to do it good and forcing yourself to do it regularly just to keep them from burning down the house or throwing boiling water in your face.  All of this sounds awful right? You're right it is. Women are terrible, they were literally put on this earth to make men miserable and every abstract amount of suffering that they bring through their sheer existence comes from God punishing their entire species for the original sin of unleashing the knowledge of good and evil upon this earth.   So why be in a relationship?  Quite simply, because you're going to get old. Your body is going to fail over time. All material pleasures will slowly fade away from relevance. You will no longer give a shit about food, possessions, vacations, video games, sports, movies, music, or how nice your house is. Eventually, the only thing left which registers as warmth or light in the life of a decrepit haggard old man is knowing he raised his children and that they produced grandchildren of their own.   Every single person who wasn't literally or spiritually raped as a child understands that God is real, the afterlife exists, and life on this earth is about perpetuating an unbroken chain between your ancestry and your descendants. A man without a family is a hollow shell, an unfulfilled loser who failed at the one real job he had. To saddle yourself with a woman and child is to make the ultimate sacrifice, giving up your time and energy towards something other than yourself. It's an expression of humility which forgoes the ego and acknowledges your own inevitable death.   Every single relationship you have with another human being is the potential for locking in a permanent pathway for your soul to pass onto. If you fuck it up, you better have used it to learn a powerful lesson. If you don't and you keep making the same mistakes with the same type of person, you are giving up the most precious nonrenewable resource there is, your time. If you fail completely and snuff out your own bloodline, you lose the express pass ticket you get in the afterlife and have to go to the very back of the line where they make you wait 900,000 years to reincarnate as like an isopod or a paramecium or like a raindrop or some shit. You don't get the alternate dimension DLC packages either, it's just basic lobby with a long respawn time.
It’s crazy to think that if Roger Sterling from Mad Men lived in the 2000s, instead of doing acid and growing mutton chops, he’d be doing sexagenarian break dancing in Bitcoin shirts while waging tone clouded information warfare online against his separated daughter.
It’s not fucking fair.  Why can’t we have chimp pets that don’t have a 5% chance of ripping our dick and balls off for smiling the wrong way?  In fact, why the fuck aren’t there more cool animal pets for consumers? Everyone says “Oh you can’t have bears, foxes, coyotes, tigers, lions, hyenas, chimpanzees as pets.” “Nooo they’re wild animals.” Yeah and so were wolves until we domesticated them into dogs. Why can’t we do that with primates? Why can’t we use genetic engineering to make 2 foot tall bipedal primates that can’t kill us, don’t want to hurt us, clean up after themselves, and do what we tell them to?  Why aren’t we funneling money into figuring out how to make a medium dog sized bear that only eats kibbles, takes ping pong ball sized shits, and does little cute noises when you poke its tummy? The modern domesticated animal is already a disturbing abomination anyway, you may as well have fun with it. It’s more ethical than whatever pig human chimeras the Chinese are building now and there’s probably an insane market for custom fun low maintenance pets.  Oh it’s cruel? It’s inhumane? Yes I’m sure your fucking poodle is so pleased and fulfilled wearing doofy costumes, eating concrete mix food, and watching you squeal at the TV all day you fat suburbanite contentious cunt. They could breed a red panda that walks around on two legs all day and feels near constant orgasm satisfaction from being in an apartment sized space doing tricks for your amusement. One of thousands of futures robbed from us by a cabal of soulless dead inside humanitarians making the world a duller, sadder place.
*punching my special "extra" monitor that has a smug meanie face on it* "BABY IS BORED BABY WANT BETTER CONTENT!!!!!!  WAAAAAAHHHH!!!!"   I put my entire arm through the screen and retract like a Boston Dynamics mantis hunter-killer unit and sit back in my AssFondler9000 Peatpilled massage chair as it funnels baking soda infused San Pellegrino into my impatiently folded arms intravenously. I pout as the pneumatic wire tentacles replace the broken screen with another, this time showing me a 🥹 face as my algorithm desperately scrambles my feed into the time-tested "fun time songs for babies" playlist. I start kicking my feet and clapping as the monitors bounce back and forth in sweet desperate relief.   I call my jitbroker shortly after and sell 9 trillion shares of this minute's hot poopcoin (the word "shit" being outlawed online) and use the proceeds to fund a Venezuelan family's execution over lunch. The stream proceeds barely break even but the hot honey glazed gerbil flambé my "mom" cooked is so succulent I don't even pay attention to several red 😡 face notifications in the peripheral side of my cornea telling me to be mad.  Several pea sized assigned acquaintances start chirping in the GazEbo about a sudden bonus XP collab session, but I decide to miss out on this season's paradigm shift because I'm trying to find a TalkDash meatspace goblin to deliver drugs to my cube before I run out of inhalers and remember that God exists and He's SUPER PISSED at me.
Imagine locking egirls in here except it’s a black void with their own faces coming at them rapidly into full zoom from the floor, ceiling, and all four walls, morphing constantly between black or Chinese.
Besides the obvious implications of a crumbling economy putting a stranglehold on the average consumer, the service industry has always been a bubble waiting to burst.   The entire foundation of working in service is built upon replicating the experience of aristocratic dining where every aspect of logistic necessity is removed from the act of preparing and consuming food. A majority of society for a majority of history has had to contend with these basic logistic necessities. The ingredients need to be procured, the food needs to be cooked, the eating environment needs to be set, and the mess needs to be cleaned afterwards. While variations and communal context varies, traditionally a matriarch performs the cooking within a single household unit, ingredients either literally or symbolically procured by the patriarch through provision, and both setting and cleaning either being performed by her or shared among the family as a duty.   What makes this different from being rich and having servants is that you’re taking the responsibilities away from those participating in the dining experience. A chef procures the ingredients and cooks the meal, servants set the table, servants serve the food, servants clean up the mess, and servants wash the dishes. Every participant of the actual dining experience is completely unburdened by the laborious necessities, free to enjoy the act of eating itself with as little imposition on their time and energy as possible.  However, because of this, those raised in wealth are given a strict standard of etiquette to follow with a higher form of ritual. The spiritual health of a society is both affected and indicated by the basic social rituals within a few key elements of the human experience. You can judge a people by the standards of certain activities they perform, including  how they solidify marriages and therefore families, how they dispose of their dead, how they handle disputes, and most notably, what rituals they perform when eating.  The specific rules of etiquette exist as a function of acknowledging the presence of others and performing basic acts to reduce as much sensory imposition as possible. Belching is rude because it sounds disgusting, napkins are placed on the lap, not the table because it’s unpleasant to see food stains on them, elbows stay off  because it shakes the table and disturbs other diners. In a high class environment, the act of eating itself is always relegated as a vehicle for the social element of dining. All of human history signified the act of breaking bread as a ritual of enhancing communication, understanding, and social bond between two individuals. The rich have learned that eating the food itself is never the focus of dining in company. The food is merely a vehicle for continual participation in ensuring your place in this world and working towards elevating your position in the hierarchy of those around you.  This is why it’s traditionally polite to never fully finish a meal. First it’s a function of abundance. To eat to completion is a symptom of scarcity, acting out of fear of starvation which is incongruent to living a life of means where there will always be more food available than you could ever hope to consume entirely. But furthermore it’s an expression of self control, all etiquette is. Etiquette itself is the act of enforcing both self control and focus on acknowledging those around you through followable mutually understood rules. Secondly, leaving leftovers fulfilled a function of rewarding the servants. They would always eat whatever wasn’t used, enjoying decadent meals which they otherwise wouldn’t have access to were it not for their position.   In many ways, the servant living in the palace, having families alongside their masters family, eating their food, and so forth created a symbiotic relationship. All of these dynamics were mimicked in the creation of the modern dining experience, an inevitable folly serving towards its own downfall.
Restaurants chew up and spit out their employees. The moment you start working at a restaurant as a young impressionable person you start a countdown timer of at most two years before you get sucked into irreversibly bad life habits. Becoming a “server” is transmogrification.   Servers that are mired in their own industry without any protecting barriers have this seedy dirty energy to them, a sort of commodification of all basic social impulse. They operate within a steady ongoing pseudo polycule environment, not all of them mind you but many of them. There’s a 50/50 chance of the server handing you drinks and plates of food has fucked one or more of their coworkers, let alone a customer at some point in their career. Bartenders are even more promiscuous.   If you look at the video QT’d above you can see very clearly what “server energy” is. It’s a sort of universal cheapening, present in mediocre servers particularly in America. It’s a mentality of reducing all customers into vehicles for tipping. It’s a form of dismissive entitlement, one built by the premise of waiting tables being one of the best paying jobs possible for the most uneducated, unskilled, and inexperienced portion of society. It’s a tenuous frustration at watching the gravy train slowly collapse at a society wide scale, widening the once ambiguous gap into a dividing canyon clearly separating the wealthy from the lower class. A mass grave with the delusion of a “middle class” carved into an epitaph. It’s an aura of filthy rodent-like opportunism, one specifically spurned on by the esoteric consequences of eating anonymous leftovers while standing up.  The act of eating without ritual, especially when it’s someone’s leftovers is the root core of what creates the archetypical “server” personality. It’s a slow steady transformation into scavenger pest behavior, an existence upheld by the leavings of others. It occurs first because servers will eat food that wasn’t meant for them. This isn’t even necessarily true for actual leftovers, at least in my experience most servers USUALLY would never touch leftovers from eaten plates (except occasionally some disgustos making exceptions for “oh that’s untouched”). However, almost everyone who’s ever worked in a restaurant has at least once eaten a meal that was originally created for a customer and placed aside out of rejection or screwed up cooking. Almost everyone who’s worked in a restaurant has eaten hurriedly while standing up. Almost everyone who’s worked in a restaurant has pilfered, pawed, and swiped at some form of food in an act of fidgeting secrecy.  The entire model of working in a restaurant is a sort of poetic reversal of the intended dining experience, one built around the rejection of food as a temporal urgent necessity and allowing for complete ease of consumption in a manner fully defying the primitive natural standards of scarcity. The ideal model of a restaurant is a rejection of natural scarcity in exchange for the fruits of industrially manifested illogically infinite abundance. I suspect through the rules of alchemy where a thing cannot be accrued without taking from something else, the joy of dining out is some kind of unintended occult ritual where the degredation of a selected staff into a den of desperate greedy scavengers is the fuel behind the brief simulated aristocracy of the ignorant customer.  Aside from the other physical consequences of rampant seed oil frankenfood sourced Gordon’s supplied ingredients and a lifetime of steady sucking and fucking amidst a pile of discarded vapes and White Claws, the modern server must come to terms with the fact that economic incentives no longer allow people to overlook their hee haw jokester yokel obnoxiously waitress personality.   Nobody gives a shit about a waitresses “fun” personality, except for the lowest common denominator of mouth breathing Midwestern tubby doofus families, and they’ve been priced out of tipping generously by now.
A servers only hope in the swirling flushed toilet water that is the restaurant industry is to adapt. First, if you do remain in the service industry despite the consequences and trajectory outlined before you, you’ll need to know an extremely simple but powerful mechanism for extracting tips.  The act of tipping is contentious, and frankly many modern servers do actually deserve to get stiffed on principle. The only reason it could possibly be considered a poor idea to do so is that a culture generates its own specific bubble of karma based on When In Rome rules and western society has not yet fully divorced itself from tipping as a standard.  While the European, the rationalist, and the redditor would all screech about how tipping is a nonsensical act which should be replaced by the the restaurant paying servers a “fair wage” instead of having customers uphold the integrity of the server’s income, this rejects the premise of restaurants only really being possibly sustainable due to criminal activity. Most restaurants fail, many of them being a vanity project for idealistic naive buffoons who like the idea of running a restaurant while being unwilling to functionally deal with the massive headache that is the food and beverage industry. The truth is, most people who brag about not tipping in America are completely full of shit, either never being in a position to actually pay the bill or never really dining out in the first place in a context where tipping actually matters. Perhaps some have the clarity of congruent values to realize that wanting to abolish tipping isn’t enough, the concept of a restaurant  itself must be dismantled entirely for the public, and maybe perhaps a few within this understanding have the conviction to want this outcome. While tipping may one day fade away as an anachronism, it will only do so as the fine dining experience also has given up completely. It’s still going to be at least a few years before this happens so if you still wanna try and make money off tips, this is how you do it:  Make yourself not care about getting tipped.  This is one of the most frustrating Chinese finger traps for the average novice server to encounter, because it demands genuinely rejection of scarcity. But if you can successfully do it, and genuinely BELIEVE IT, not just larp it, you will be taking the first step towards becoming a mercenarily successful server.  I’m serious, it even works on black people. A lot of “Canadians” pick up on the fact that the server immediately clocks them as being not likely to tip, but the server is  nowhere near as subtle as they think they are. Many customers will get indignant at any form of suspicion that you, the server, see them as an annoyance or a burden and create a self fulfilling prophecy. But if you as the server can make yourself be genuinely happy to serve them and simply mentally accept the possibility that they won’t tip whatsoever, and furthermore mentally accept that that’s okay, you will be surprised more often than you think.  The applies to every customer. The act of tipping was created to incentivize heightened performance. Your entire process of greeting, serving, and closing out the table is an application for getting a good tip. One of the biggest millenial/zoomer delusions of the TikToking wage slave is complaining about emotional labor. The entire fucking job is emotional labor, that’s what you’re paid to do.  At the root of the job is the archetypical servant, the one who stresses to make sure the patron doesn’t experience any possible interruption, inconvenience, or imposition from beginning to end.   If you want to make money serving tables you have to perform and contort your attitude in a manner which is not affected by your actual personal feelings. If this makes you feel like a whore’ it’s because you are. Performance is implicitly prostitution, it’s the price you pay for the highest possible income afforded to the unskilled. If you don’t like it, quit.
“I love playing FIFA on my PlayStation!” - Tiesto
Really polarizing post here huh guys
RETARDIO! I CHOOSE YOU!
Retardio redactus! :^)
I can’t think of anything more disgusting than the hubristic naivety of people treating deformed mutant freak animals like little toy furniture for their amusement. People have a morbid fascination with keeping alive creatures that never should’ve been. Do you think it’s happy? Do you really think it’s happy watching its own child struggle to exist in the same state of decrepit misfortune it’s had to bear, hearing the distant howls of its wolf ancestors echoing through DNA memory, knowing that in any real situation of danger or survival it would get wiped out and eaten? Thats not an animal, it’s an abomination which would receive a mercifully rapid death as a free snack in a natural world, only kept in a I Have No Mouth But I Must Scream perpetual purgatory of helpless malfeasance at the hands of a disturbing suburbanite hellbent on turning the entire world into a gallery of wide eyed immobile gimps to treat like living breathing stuffies to discard when bored and relegate to a damp musty corner eating concrete cubits and baby vomit off of a cheap tiled floor. When you look into that creature’s eyes, the watery glint of neurotic worry is a plea for assisted suicide.  The legless part is fucked up too, but I’m referring to fact that chihuahuas exist.
I can’t stop laughing at this. It’s like if God decided to be 13 years old when writing this moment in reality. Making the “fastest guy ever” called “Insane Bolt” and his momentary rival named “Tyson Gay” doomed to be trapped in a virgin-chad goofus & gallant meme for all time.  Like imagine being called Tyson Gay and having to come across ESL made Discovery channel 2000s science graphics videos outlining every single reason why you suck compared to the guy who beat you, with little spinning arrow lines, x-ray diagrams, and beep boop noises.  An entire LIFE spent training to make it to the Olympics, being better than everyone else in the world except ONE guy. I wonder what was going on in Tyson Gay’s mind during preliminaries or whenever athletes scope out their competition and realize who’s gonna win. I wonder how he felt right at the moment he looked at the adjacent taller guy outpacing him with the last name Bolt taped to his back and he considers that he has the word “GAY” taped to his own.  What kind of effect does that have on someone? Realizing that their entire life’s work, singular constant dedication towards one thing, was all so they could become the human equivalent of a Waluigi, defined by being the juxtaposition of failure compared to someone else’s success. I wonder if in a scenario such as this, bronze would’ve been a much more merciful fate than silver. This race literally clocks his time of 9.71 seconds for the 100 meter dash as the “fastest non winning time in the history of the 100m.”   I’d be SO fucking pissed. I looked it up in the middle of typing this post, expecting some bullshit interview where he just says he respects Bolt and talks about his own achievements, but no I found a Guardian article where he’s literally seething about it be so specifically mogged at something that literally depends on height difference is the epitome of a cruel permanent fate as the heel. This guy is literally Vegeta holy shit, it even describes him as pissed and serious, constantly training while Bolt is playful and carefree. Fuck the dash, I’m much more impressed at his restraint in not just bringing a gun to the Olympics lmao.
A certain level of favelamaxxing becomes a wonder of the world in its own right. It’s something only appreciated macroscopically, hundreds of millions of autonomous hominids reduced to a pointillism of reproduction. An entire population purely exists as a mold spreading further.  Men in particular have the occasional urge to enter hell itself. A hunger for environments defying all sensibility, vast barren salt bed deserts devoid of life, great open pits of perpetual flame from ignited natural gas deposits, seabeds at the center of oceans drained of all water, burning oilfields with plumes of smoke darkening the sky.  What man can say he hasn’t at least briefly fantasized about living underground in a Venusian mining colony or being stranded in a maximum security prison on one of Jupiter’s moons? The gravity of morbid desolation fantasy grows stronger with each degree of soft comfort curbing our natural inclination for pain. You can paint a picture of pure absolute constant suffering in an industrial hellworld of endless labor and empty purposelessness for effect and there will always be a contingent of men disillusioned, crazy, and stupid enough to at least be curious to know what it means to be surrounded by dusty filth; lost in a concrete emptiness bespeckled by strange inhospitable strangers with varying capacities for violence.  I want to walk through the narrow alleyway great fractal of Egyptian shithole buildings, stretching out so far that its center may be a perpetually unreachable back room labyrinth of 3rd world urbanity. I want to run through the vast underground tunnel bunkers of post-nuclear society, filled with pale hostile mushroom farmers huddled like pigs in alcoves. I want to live inside a 6x6 cubic cell nestled miles inside the great polygon of trans-galactic freight flotillas, stuck in the midway empty void between destinations across several generations of mutated spacefarers. I want to leave humanity behind so far and live so harshly I have all my flesh, spirit, and mind raped away by the searing winds of necessity, replaced by the rusty metal skeleton of a half animal half machine built to survive everything and kill anything just for the sake perpetuation.   Unsustainable torturous conditions fueled by the curiosity of suffering induced by a lack of exposure. You won’t find such fantasies in the heart of an oil driller, African traveler, or ex-convict. It’s a sentiment which can only be appreciated from afar, a transient novelty of human progress. Like watching a factory blow up, you can’t help but marvel at what human beings have accomplished through a lens of our accidents. On paper it would be an obvious tragedy watching every single bit of empty green earth get ripped away and replaced with gray concrete cubes filled with hustling humid piles of shirtless laborers, but what awe would bombard the witness of such a state for a brief moment! A species wiping itself out in grand completion, entombed by its own sarcophagus of anonymous mediocre progress.
They’ve considered it thoroughly, it’s why they’re trying to bring back slavery.
It's gonna be one of these days
HEY GUYS CATCH
It should not be understated that the Copyright Warrior is genuinely one of the biggest pieces of shit you can find on the internet.    The Copyright Warrior is not just a sniveling brown nosing cuckhold whose life force is sustained by a perpetual need to fellate a Verified Authority like a hummingbird dying without constant sustenance, but in fact a genuinely detracting source of harm and destruction towards life itself.  I don’t need to preach to the Post-Authorship crowd, they all understand already and in fact should not continue reading this. This post is addressed to whatever happenstance “concerned” consumer buffoon, emaciated into neotenous androgyny through a lifetime of homoconsumerism, that wanders into the periphery of my existence through some combination of curiosity and outrage:   The reason you specifically suck (yes you!) is because no other human being on earth maintains a higher ratio of smugness to flaccid insignificance. Even serial killers and child rapists can justify themselves out of some level of personal satisfaction or desire for pleasure compared to you.   But you, the chiding tattle tale IP goblin, you have absolutely zero reason to do anything, let alone exist. Your entire presence online exists as a coping mechanism for an unfulfilled life, a scum sucking barnacle latched onto a series of arbitrary laws lobbied into existence by powerful organizations abusing government power for their own gain. You are a mold feeding off the discarded log of shit excreted by corporations run by people that would go out of their way  to stomp your clavicle bone into pieces if they were forced to live beside you in a world that wouldn’t punish them for it.  The copycuck finds fulfillment in the act of prevention. Where an abusive police officer can at least find solace in the dignity of violence, the spiritual hall monitor has nothing to show for their accomplishments. They are an arbiter of pestilence, uniquely unsatisfied with an existence wasted spent consuming the products of others. They seek to somehow achieve less than nothing, they dip below the zero into negatives, finding ways to undo the accomplishments or efforts of others.  Much like how the janny does it for free, the authorship gremlin takes it upon himself to champion the defense  of billion dollar companies, and even more pathetically, the hack grift “content creators” who spend more time considering themselves persecuted saints than they do complaining about how they deserve to making more than 7 dollars a month for drawing black trans disabled obesity porn fan fiction versions of kids cartoon characters.   I really cannot emphasize enough that everything you believe is wrong. Your entire worldview is completely wrong because it’s broken from the ground up.   You GENUINELY believe that an idea can be created by a human being, let alone owned, because you are so angry at being spiritually (or literally) sodomized in childhood that you reject God and spirituality as a proxy for despising your parents.   You GENUINELY believe that the law decides morality because you cannot fathom any concepts of self determination.   You GENUINELY believe that everyone in the world is as impressionably programmable as you, and that because of this, measures need to be taken to prevent the creation of any form of media, art, or rhetoric which challenges the meager paltry existence you occupy.   You GENUINELY believe you’re making a difference in the world by dedicating your life completely to preventing creation, while contributing absolutely nothing.  I don’t intend to elaborate on well tread points explaining why Post-Authorship is correct. If you truly don’t know what that is feel free to read this: my intended recipients, you needn’t bother. I only want to shit on you as a eulogy to your scarce minded existence right before AI ushers in an age of universal unstoppable “theft” rendering you into a permanent crybaby screaming forever.
Much like the childish hustler grindset mentality of wanting money for the sake of Lamborghinis and gold flake filet mignon, the failure of Remilia's detractors lies in the crumbling foundation that is the premise of their work.   All good creative work comes from a combination of inspiration and thoughtful curation. A creation within a medium becomes crystallized into art through audience and critique; a measure of instinctual wordless reaction with equal parts lengthy analysis. While art may not be 100% objective, it is absolutely never completely subjective, this has always been the layman's cope. People with taste can recognize good art through immediate exposure, people with introspective rhetoric and familiarity of citation can expand upon why the art is good at length. Great art touches upon the source of its cosmic inspiration in a capacity and potential as infinite as the divinity from which it is borne.   A bad "artist" creates bad work and attempts to justify it as art through obscuration. Much like the low median IQ midwit insecurely lashes out at a large length of text as "nonsense" to mask their inability to parse vocabulary, the untalented are incapable of differentiating serious critique with inflated filler descriptions. What makes this phenomenon dangerous is the folly of institutional backing. Unserious actors find themselves in a position of advantage in simply sucking the right cocks and holding onto social credentials like 3rd world general covering themselves with made up war medals.   When faced with competition they cannot stand up to on their own merits, it is simply easier to attack through social measures than make any serious attempt to create something better, or in this case, anything good at all. Therein lies a cardinal sin, dedicating more time and energy into destroying rather than creating. One dedicated to this mindset finds themselves in a twisted parody of their livelihood.   You see it in our opps very clearly, everything they do is dedicated to following us around, seething in our replies, chasing every accomplishment we have with chiding denials. When this doesn't work, often they resort to direct attacks against identity, harassment of friends, attacks on family, anything they can grasp onto for some semblance of victory in their feeble little world.   Why this hostility in the first place? Insecurity, jealousy, and greed. Remilia has reaped fruits grown from a tree watered by blood, sweat, and tears. A hunger for fruit does not translate to a passion for horticulture any more than simple love of money translates to an ability to make good art.   I do find impressive how much cognitive dissonance a human being can wield within one lifetime. How much of your existence can you dedicate to hating someone and their achievements? How often can you spend your time hate orbiting something you claim is beneath you, despite every single thing you do living in its shadow? Have you ever disconnected yourself from your surroundings, put down the weed vape, and stopped masturbating for even just a week? Do you think in the briefest moments of sober introspective lucidity you spend so much time trying to escape that you would feel good about living in a meager life of bitterness dedicated solely to poor imitations of our discarded leftovers?   These questions, and I assure you they're sincere, will fall on deaf ears. The sad truth is that while curation and work ethic can be trained, inspiration and instinct cannot be manufactured. I can take anything Remilia has produced and provide a lengthy analysis towards its citation and relevance. I can take this organization's body of work and explain not only how it encapsulates the culture of our time but will define it in the future. I don't need to do any of that because hundreds of people are already actively doing it every day, thousands more simply proclaiming their love for us.   We don't do it for the money. We do it because we have several very large goals and we intend to manifest them through deliberate force. There will come a time when we have grown so large that our detractor's echo bubble cannot stretch further and their suspension of disbelief in their own delusions will shatter. At that point, they will do one of two things: They will either disconnect completely, fumbling around in irreverence having denied knowledge of our existence OR they will crawl on their hands and knees attempting to sneak through the gate, pretending they were always fans.
I hate the sound of whimpering. Groveling. Nervousness. Stuttering.   It’s a learned form of helplessness, a human being never having had a disgusting habit corrected as a child. What I’m talking about is usually more prominent in women than men, because when men do this they usually get punished for it so hard in childhood by their peers they USUALLY learn to stop.  It’s most obvious in women when they grow old because the natural barriers of youth and attraction which normally would cause one to overlook the instinctual irritation at curdled neurotic pudgy noises have all faded away. You hear it worst in dementia patients but that’s forgivable.   What’s not forgivable is the white trash 45 year old woman who looks 65. The bus stop street slime 7/11 warrior. Her messy cheap canvas purse smells like cigarettes. There’s black gunk all over her random bottles of makeup and ripped up random pieces of paper. Whatever cocktail of meth, crack, weed, and alcohol abuse she spent the entirety of her adult life doing has shriveled up her skin into a leathery sheathe, her face is contorted into a permanent constipation. Every single waking moment she’s not high is pain.   This beef jerky shrew will hold up an entire line of people to rifle through her pockets and bags for a crumpled up dollar bill to pay for a lottery ticket, yodeling at the top of her lungs about the 27 different exchanged dollar debts between family, coworkers, roommates, random homeless people, and corn chip purchases that justify why she doesn’t have the 78 cents she needs.  There’s already an inherent mortal sin in wasting someone else’s time. The lowest members of society genuinely believe the delusion that everyone is equal to them, that five minutes to them is five minutes to you and me. Wasting the time of a group of people is already a crime, the punishment reaching death when the number goes high enough. You’ve felt it on the highway when several hours of your life gets wasted in a pileup. Your time only paid for by the satisfactory brief second of watching a shrouded body get loaded onto a gurney.   There’s no such justice with the anxious. There’s no suitable punishment for the neurotic. There’s no catharsis with the cockroach spiritual vampires of society, small weak irritant people who only feel energized by making sure everyone around them is as uncomfortable as they feel. There’s nothing society allows you to do besides avoiding them the best you can and cutting them out of your life.  It makes you realize that history has wrongfully painted the tyrant constable, the medieval guard, the warden of antiquity who lives as a throwaway gag in our minds when thinking of the past. A yokel peasant begs for slop or a piece of stale bread and gets whacked with a cudgel, the audience winces, and we move on to the actual plot involving royalty or soldiers somewhere. When you’ve been exposed to the spiritual beggar enough times you realize the club wielding brute is a hero. He is the great correction of a metaphysical parasite haunting the human dynamic through all of history. He has been shackled, gagged, and castrated by the self evidence of why you never allow that kind of parasite into power or a position of equality.  I dream of a great education, a moment in time when the world sympathizes with the stick and rewards instinct rather than stomping it out. I dream of the great plumbers wrench swinging through the world’s weakness at 70 miles per hour. I dream of the briefest moments between blunt force impact and unconsciousness, the pulsing searing pain, confusion, and fear of enlightenment, the instance of clarity where true suffering is understood, where an actual problem worth expressing out loud presents itself. It will come like a pendulum swinging back to settle a lifetime of microdebts compounded into a national deficit, localized in a smelly microcosm of rodent sewer life.   It will not be today, it will not be tomorrow, but I will see it in my lifetime.
“Rapists could be here…” she thought as she attached the 14th plastic wedge into her doorframe. “There are rapists everywhere,” she muttered while shutting windows onto little spread out lines of Elmer’s glue. “This glue cannot keep rapists out, only slow them down.” She would say this over and over again while putting little rotating cameras on every shelf of the house, cameras which would record rapists trying to get in her room and rape her. She settled into her velcro bed, wearing the itchiest outfit she owned, clutching her 250000 lumen flashlight knowing it’s the only thing standing between her and a rapist afraid of the dark. Between hyperventilating into her rape alert flute whistle, she would say out loud to nobody, “In my house, I could get raped anywhere.”
I don’t think there’s any nation on earth that’s adopted black culture less gracefully than the English. Their physiognomy, culture, landscape, weather, speech patterns, geography, architecture, food, and aesthetic all clash horribly with it. Grotesquely incompatible.   First, there’s the mongrelized California Kardashian makeup fatass club wear fake tan look which looks absolutely ghastly on the average English woman. No subsect of Anglo female can pull it off, not the frail Norman waif, not the vampiric Saxon, and definitely not the ogrelike northern Briton. The beady one-inch-apart eyed tavern wench swamp goblin Sheffield club skank compilation video is Exhibit A on why Lovecraft’s true haunting horror was multiculturalism.   But besides the slags and chavs, an opposite horror occurs where the roadmen are concerned. Silly tin can gangs of castrated British blacks trying their hardest to be a nation of persecuted George Floyds despite the extent of their grievances being sternly accosted by the neon vest mall cop constables. Honestly, how can anyone listen to British hip hop and not break down in hysterical laughter? What do they even rap about? “We’s set on commitin legal infractions a such” No wonder their cities are being taken over by armed Albanians.
Women horror stories are like “and then… behind the corner hiding… waiting for me… were the CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!!!” and then they all start screaming
Thinking about unoptimal Gerber baby food. Slop estrogen powder purées. When I have kids they’re eating ground beef and egg yolk paste. Watermelon sized bulging vein craniums, doing calculus at age 2. Sprinting on all fours to the nearest pitbull and snap its neck preemptively.
I watched Vanilla Sky last night and tbh I would’ve handled that entire situation much better than Tom Cruise did.
Now consider the implications of phone screen resolution.
What the fuck are British people doing
Me explaining my old job to my great grandchildren one day
When headphones were still wired, the vicious yank of a wayward object or brusque hand inspired infinite rage in the listener. When games were interrupted or screens turned off by frustrated parents, the playing children flinched with obscene traumatic shock. Technology is fixation, focus, tunnel vision. Trance states inspired by inputs and outputs, both electronic and tactile. Every simulation of sense creates a pocket universe in which your mind's eye occupies. Each stark interruption of experience with technology is a form of minor death trauma. The shock is sudden, like being splashed with water in the deepest states of REM sleep.  Each and every video game human beings have ever played is a machine learning node in a great collective effort towards the creation of an agreed shared universe within our own. Each time a child sees a world built out of cave shadows, seeing through nothing at all, they build a world inside themselves and wear their soul like a glove. We have entered and destroyed thousands of realities with such regularity that it has weathered us, made us strong to turbulence. In 1915 a man so invested in Birth of a Nation pulls out a gun at the movie theater and shoots the screen several times to stop a rape from happening. In 2025 a five year old child will not only survive at the crushing depths of the Marianas Trench, he would die if removed from it.  Within a century we shifted from black and white dreams to nested doll tulpa puppet realities in technicolor noclip spectator vision. Ours will be the turbulent generation. The pioneers. The astronauts. The ones who pierced a veil which held together all known quotients, quandaries, quagmires, and quarantines. The ones who watched a million worlds live and die by the second before the great unification of all media. The ones who knew the ingredients of existence before they were combined into one whole comprehensive experience. There are always two choices and either one leaves us in the place of the elders, gifting wisdom of the past by shrouding it in the carapace of mythology.  Be it the tribal shaman tenderly caring for the cracked solar panel and patchwork lithium battery scrap screens so that he may inscribe the wisdom of electric crystals onto sheephide canvas or carve emojis into stone runes for his 900 great grandchildren to wear as sigils against malevolence, or perhaps the perforated anus fed Frankenstein monster who reached the oldest age in history since man lost the secrets of the Nephelim, telling the hivemind tube baby forehead stapled units of how their species weathered innumerable apocalypses, pushed the boundaries of prison universes measured in a few hundred megabytes, and surfed the shifting sands of physics, proportion, and time until all of humanity settled on the final metaverse standard.  Both pathways present you with the same privilege. It was only the gentle nap in the annals of history that allowed humanity to settle in its own arrogant understanding. One trillion tiny ants gathered to toss a pebble just big enough to make ripples in God's eye fluid. Now His galaxy pupil stares directly at you. Have you ever wondered why nothing in your dreams ever really dies or can be killed? There is only transmogrification when you graduate from Tutorial Island. If you want to understand why horror and comfort are two sides of the same coin, maintain the premise that ideas are living creatures and watch what happens to them.
I gave you a gift.
Don't miss the YAYO AMA in FloorDAO's Discord this Tuesday. Right after it's finished, I'm going to be hosting a space under @YayoCorp with @SCHIZO_FREQ sometime that afternoon or evening.
You can tell his dad told him to practice his serious surprised face and he did it last minute in the bathroom of the elementary school.
Monumental horseshit lmfao. Who exactly is going to believe your aimless fud after you completely rugged the Remilio Pool and dumped all of your Remilia assets alongside your fellow extortionists?  Where the fuck was your goodwill when you stole company property? Where the fuck was your goodwill while endorsing a scam grift fraudulently presenting itself as Remilia on an account that doesn't belong to you? You already shred any last bit of credibility any of you have had and now you've resorted to just desperately attacking Remilia work, as if the more productive parts of the team haven't been building them for months even prior to your thefts and expulsion.  Frankly you are absolutely right to be as terrified as you sound lmfao, you are so fucked it's unbelievable. Your entire frivolous defense is built on an extremely precarious set of lies, while we have the entire history of Remilia saved and documented as you've seen us dump on your head every time you dared to try to share one of your tantrums on the timeline, hiding replies and blocking everyone who calls you out. You are 100% so unbelievably fucked, and you just keep digging yourself in a deeper and deeper hole. But keep begging for Remilia to just give you $$$ and let you off the hook, really, we're really interested in what you have to ransom off to us and would like to hear more of your offers.  I just have one question: now that the entire community hates your guts and didn't fall for your scam and no lawyer in the world would touch the stolen Bonkler money, where are you going to get the money to pay your defense retainer? How do you feel knowing you have zero friends left except a handful of nervous thieves who are on the verge of stabbing you in the back to save their ass? You gambled everything on stealing from every friend you know and failed completely, you betrayed yourself and lost everything for it. Scream and cry all you want, no one is coming to save
Lemee go ahead and undo the absolute lying bullshit Remilionaire has dropped:  - You have not been silent, all of our activity regarding this topic is directly a response to posts you and your cohorts have been to mitigate damage to the Remilia community that YOU are responsible for causing.  - Since Bonkler 9/11 every single statement Charles has made is completely coherent and consistent. Remilia has a mountain of evidence, documentation, and receipts to back up every single claim he's made. It's hilarious to see you start projecting any weakness in our case after begging us to pause litigation, this is the last desperate hope of you fucked four finally starting to realize you absolutely cannot withstand a lengthy trial that piece by piece disassembles any frail case you attempt to make. Do you understand how hard it is to actually get away with lying under cross-examination? Ask your counsel.  - "Doesn't run anything past his counsel" is a hilarious accusation coming from you. Did you run the fact that you stole property past your counsel before you had them send an extortion letter? Did you run by your strategy of using contested accounts to shill a rug grift past your counsel? Or did you need to do the grift first to afford their consultation fee after your retainer dried up and your lawyer informed you there is no legal in the world that would touch the stolen Bonkler funds lmao. Do you really think you're going to scare us out of taking the time to engage our community and mitigate the damages you're actively and deliberately causing? We are acting exactly in the way we should be to protect the best interests of Remilia and its holders, and your defense is so obviously hopeless, nothing could save you.  - None of you had a top down view of the organization or any perspective on what our entire staff looked like. Ika was the only one that even had any reports, and he lost those due to his incompetence before you even went live with the extortion. We've never claimed we have 30-50 "employees", we have members of the collective, which is a fuzzy group, and the actual contracted team, which IS around 30-50, variance due to the oscillation between how many devs or contractors are active for specific contracts per project. At any given time we've had 30+ contracted team working across Remilia projects. Also, no one "left", we terminated everyone involved in the conspiracy and were forced to pause the contracts for any of the developers and other team that were working on the projects you seized and sabotaged as part of your extortion. It's incredibly disingenuous to count only yourselves and the public facing individuals as the team, but again I wouldn't be surprised how little you actually knew what was going on in Remilia considering all of you were barely cognizant outside of what personally benefits you. It was, however, a great opportunity to clean house, and your roles were all replaced in weeks with much more professional people at much more realistic rates.  - You specifically have zero place to be making claims about rewriting the past or declaring who's a part of Remilia or not, considering that you weren't even hired until late 2022, more than a year after Remilia operations started. Which by the way is fucking hilarious considering you tried to claim yourself as a cofounder. If you want to start making estimations about contributions, you're going to have to add detriment to the equation. Everyone that was terminated caused more harm and waste to Remilia than they created, and that was BEFORE the coup attempt, you were incredibly lucky Charlie let you continue to collect our money this whole time, only because you were his friends before Remilia hired you. You have absolutely zero room to argue with me on this considering I worked harder and contributed more to Remilia than all four of you combined, regardless of the several times you specifically tried to pin the blame on me for your fuck ups, ones Charles specifically brought me in to fix repeatedly lmfao  - The $FUMO token was not rugged whatsoever, you are actually literally just making shit up. We were literally about to announce dolls were going into production for Q1 and open the LP when you delayed us with new FUD. It's hilarious you're now trying to FUD FUMO when in your own lawsuit you tried to take credit for the whole project. Like, lmfao, what is your point? That you fucked up yet again? Secondly, the "team dump" you're referring to is your own co-cospirator Yojimbo, who immediately sold the $FUMO he was compensated for shilling, just like he immediately sold his Miladys when it minted out. I'm not even going to address your attempts to insult @pedro_tqm's art. Every criticism you have on the FUMO project is either complete bullshit, disingenuous cope, or a byproduct of damages you are directly responsible for causing. Likely, the reason you're seething about $FUMO is because you and Sprite failed in your attempts to sabotage the project as your final fuck you to Remilia and its community, just like you tried to sabotage the $MOG Warsaw and London Rave.  I'm not surprised you're resorting to trying court by Twitter again considering you're probably broke as shit now having overpaid your lawyers for a case they're likely about to drop once the realize just how fucked you are and how badly you misled them. Keep pretending that everyone in the entirety of Remilia doesn't exist, or we do exist but that we're all "brainwashed" by evil bad Charlie and also don't actually count as part of Remilia because you declared so, or that we definitely all don't fucking hate your guts for the scumbag acts of betrayal, lying, thievery, and scams you can't seem to stop doing.  I will admit I am highly amused and curious thinking about what specific lies you guys are gonna tell your parents over Christmas when they ask "how your little crypto business is going" lmfao. Let me know.
NOOOO I DID EXACTLY 37.6% OF THE MILADY ASSETS BUT THE SPECIAL SPRITE CLAUSE I DREW IN CRAYON ON THE BACK OF MY KEYBOARD SAY I GET A 7X MULTIPLIER WHICH MEANS I CAN RUG THE COMMUNITY I IGNORED!!! PLEASE BUY MY PIECE OF SHIT GRIFT MY RETAINER IS
Streaming the Milady Rave London sets! Come watch!  (London time) 10:00-11:00 guccybebe 11:00-12:00 极简主义垃圾Minimalism Garbage 12:00-1:00 kerosene 1:00-2:00 020baby 2:00-3:00 SinTheology b2b Liu
One of the worst things a young man can do is take any advice about women from women.
Hesitance from a woman is a subconscious shit test. 90% of people dating in the west are absolute disheveled impoverished losers who should not be entering relationships. If you’re a high value male who owns property and makes enough money to support a family (the bare minimum for getting married) you can lock down a marriage proposal within 6 months and be married within a year.   A woman is absolutely at the mercy of the man’s pacing, the only reason these discomforts and receptions exist is because most relationships in western civilization are copes for loneliness and casual sex. As a man, if you’re deliberate, socially competent, and are high value then you could turn basically any serious relationship into a marriage within a year’s time.   Except in the cases of legitimate mental illness or whore impulse mindvirus, women in general are absolutely desperate to lock down a stable partner. The average western woman would immediately shift from shock and anxiety at a serious proposal to absolute joy, relief, and enthusiasm within a 24 hour time period.   And the whole “you need to get to know each other” time period is highly exaggerated. It takes 5 minutes of talking to someone to learn 50% of everything there is to know about them. Within 3 months of courting, unless you’re being ignorant or avoidant, you will 90% of everything you’ll ever know about them. At 6 months it’s 95%. One year, 97%. You will never reach 100% with anyone even if you’re married for decades, you just slowly approach it with exponential reduction in rate.  Knowing about your potential wife or husband’s suitability is 100% about checking for red flags and filtering for them. It’s your responsibility to ask the difficult questions, accept the truth of a bad situation, and cut things off if you’re just going to be wasting your time. A good relationship is 90% filtering and 10% growing. People more or less are who they are, what changes is basic surface level habits over time.   Within three months you should have met her parents and she should’ve met yours. Meeting and analyzing your partners parents is the bulk of determining whether they’re a fit partner for you. This entire system is an inferior substitute to a communal arrangement of marriage between families. No painful and sudden breakup causes any near the same amount of harm to a woman as wasting her time.  Good luck.
No. First, women do not appreciate frugality or cheapness. Second, androids on par with iPhones cost as much so price isn’t even a valid factor in this logic. Third, the iPhone is legitimately a better phone for its intended purpose, communication.   Having used both for years, the iPhone is better for function. It lasts longer without problems than androids do, it contains a myriad of minor quality of life aspects which more than make up for whatever gimmick features androids do better, and most importantly it’s a more focused phone. Androids waste your time, they’re for ricing out backgrounds and playing Gameboy ROMs. iPhones emphasize communication, everything they do is distinctly for the purpose of interacting with other people in the network.  The blue text bubble alone justifies the cost of an iPhone. If you at all care about your network you get the iPhone just for iMessage alone. Arguing that it’s shallow and pointless to care about the green vs blue bubble is the same thing as the Redditor who complains that diamonds are a false market and that lab bought diamonds are even better than natural ones when he’s buying his wife’s wedding ring. It misses the point. Women measure your status by a mixture of your ability to register social cues and how much influence/money/power you have (the three are inherently connected to each other and if you only have one you’re not using it properly to accrue the other two).  In general there’s a lot of trends women are stupid about and it’s a positive quality for a man to reject them, but some of them are correct. You can argue that these aren’t genuine because they’re manufactured by companies trying to make money but the market is a balance between generating demand and catering to it. A woman’s preference for what cell phone a man owns is as arbitrary as peacocks liking bigger feathers. It’s just wherever biology has settled in the urban ecosystem of capitalism.
A lot of women are unaware of a particular species of mischievous time vampires that latch on to them in their early 20s. They present themselves as normal average men and develop a relationship but they DON'T propose or provide any clear goals towards marriage or children.  They try to maintain this arrangement for at least 5 years, usually up to 10 if they can but seldom longer. Either when the woman reaches a breaking point about not being married or when she's well into her 30s, whichever comes first, this devious trickster will come before her and levitate off the ground by a few inches, rolling his eyes into the back of his head.  As thunderous fog and flashes of light fill the living room of their apartment, the creature posing as a boyfriend will visibly and rapidly de-age into how he looked in his early 20s yet again. He will then point and laugh at the woman, howling and cackling before he throws a smoke bomb on the floor and disappears completely. She will be completely unable to find any trace of his existence as he morphs into a new identity to try and waste a younger woman's time.   Within ten minutes of this occurring, a debt collections agency will knock on the door of what is now solely the woman's apartment. When she answers, she will be handed a bill that contains every possible expense the man ever paid for within the breadth of their relationship, with an aggressive APR tacked on which was accruing the whole time.   Any attempt to vocalize this experience or inform others about what happened is hampered by a severe brain fog and lapse in focus, the same kind any single woman above thirty experiences when being forced to make a decision without a man present. At night, she will have scary nightmares of multiple clones of her ex in devil imp halloween costumes jumping up and down with plastic red pitchforks yelling in high pitch squeals, "IT'S YOUR FAULT YOU'RE ALONE YOU HAD SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE YOU HAD SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE YOU HAD SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE-" over and over until she wakes up in a cold sweat.   Ladies, pay attention to the signs, you could be dealing with a time vampire!   Watch out for: - Prolific marijuana use - Makes you pay for anything - 2+ years with zero talk of marriage or children - Met him on Discord - Was your coworker at a restaurant or bar - Works at a restaurant or bar at all - Hates his parents - Dresses like a goofy ass wigger - Isn't ashamed of playing video games in front of you - Obsessed with eating ass  - Takes home leftovers from restaurants - Rents - Refuses to let you quit your job because "how is the rent going to get paid?" - Texts you more than you text him - Complains about his job - Keeps his hands in his pockets too much - Can't go to bed without water on the nightstand - Wears sneakers outside the gym - Watches YouTube drama/Twitch Streamers - Watches YouTube at all tbh - Asks you to drive him - Owns an android - Takes selfies - Listens to or even tolerates rap music  - Orders dessert - Really really loves Kanye - Marvel, Star Wars, Rick and Morty, Reddit, etc - Has ever cried in front of you - Makes his problems your problems - Masturbates - Watches sports - Desktop or phone wallpaper has fictional characters - Colorful lights on his keyboard and mouse - Looks too happy eating phallic foods (banana, sausage, etc) - Herbivore eyes (glazed over, doughy, negative canthal) - Constantly gets caught in little lies - Doesn't understand you - Has any trauma or physical disability - Keeps promising he'll stop watching pornography - Gets emotional about politics in any capacity or direction - Breath stinky, hair greasy, unkempt fingernails - Onliner slouch - Gets in fights in public and loses them - Has to pee too much - Eats microwaved food - Snacks, grazes, gives himself "treats" - Has never fired a gun or thinks guns are bad - Does any kind of singing or voice imitation in front of you - Expresses any desire to be someone else/Celebrity worship - Gets too affectionate with pets - Gives hints about gifts he wants - Gives exact change in coins at the register - Uses coupons, discounts, rewards, or BOGOs - Stands up as soon as the plane lands - Knows the name of any stand up comedian at all - Cannot physically carry you - Pants taper towards the ankles - Emoji reacts your texts - Pubic beard hair - Says he loves you too much
French people literally will live eating the greatest food ever created and experiencing the highest carnal pleasures known to man and then they’ll like sit at a cafe and ash their cigarette and say shit like “Life is very obviously an obscene pointless horror.”
Yes the French have the best cuisine on earth, there is absolutely no room for argument. And no, life is neither pointless nor constant horror. If you think that you have a mindvirus.
Especially excited for this one, basically a perfect movie which was completely robbed of an Oscar by Titanic in 1998. YAYO is doing Lethal Weapon next week and Die Hard for the week before Christmas, but LA Confidential is the most underrated "Christmas" movie there is imo.
Streaming in 5 minutes, come join
Alright bros what are we getting from McLonghouse today? For me, it's the Foidburger.
ONCE in a while I'll switch up and get the McPickMe
The infringement of the mundane is an issue very few men have the words to express dissatisfaction towards. It’s not always done by a woman and it’s not something every woman necessarily does. But the most extreme examples are always done at the hands of women towards men in a relationship. You can find examples of it happening in platonic friendships though.  The infringement of the mundane is a phenomenon that occurs when a natural buildup of spiritual momentum is interrupted by an expression of crude smallness. I’m uncertain whether women have these moments of spiritual momentum the same way men do, not as a put down but a legitimate lack of perspective on the female psyche, but in a man’s mind and heart, spiritual momentum usually takes place in a state of silent deep introspection. It’s encountering a train of thought during life’s poignant moments, a cinematic feeling. A splendorous view at the peak of a mountain, a single crack of lightning, the wind at the top of a skyscraper, or even simply a fast drive on a highway at night. These moments are like a portrait in the mind’s eye.   As a man, encountering a moment like this allows for a feeling beyond words, a sense of being a significant individual over the course of the story that is your life. You zoom out of yourself and see where you’ve been, where you are, and where you’re going. In a healthy mind, these moments are paired with an acceleration of the ego. When the moment is at a local peak of your life you feel triumphant. When a moment is at a low point, it feels like an arduous challenge you’re prepared to embark.   The infringement of the mundane is when these moments are cheapened by the imposition of a stupid fucking comment belched out loud by an individual who is present but lacks the same sense of importance you feel. The best example I can think of is seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time and some fat sow utters out some bullshit quip from her favorite Netflix show of the week. It happens when you take an uncouth person to the most expensive French dinner they’ve ever eaten and they say something stupid about how the chicken tenders at home are just as satisfying. It happens when the best scene of a decent film is playing and some fucking yokel can’t help but make a “funny” joke cutting through the tension in the air like a knife made of farts.  What makes the infringement of the mundane so insidious is that it’s a sin so minor you 100% look like the asshole if you try to address it in any way possible. If you should make the mistake to try and salvage yourself in the face of metaphysical corpulence, you achieve a Pyrrhic victory in destroying your own significant moment and replacing it with brusque conflict. The moment is soiled and all that’s left is animosity. The particularly stubborn will attack you, telling you not to take things so seriously, and therein lies the problem.  Between the cascade of dull content raping every quiet moment in life at all possible opportunity, an overbearing need of content to be consumed cramming itself into every crevice of a days time like an invasive weed suffocating a native flower, and the absolute memetic suicidal poison of irony permeating culture, there is little room to criticize the infringement of the mundane at the scene of collision. Even the premise of doing so is solutionless. What are you supposed to tell someone, that everything they do and everything they are sucks? It’s highly likely they’re incapable of change.  The best a person can do is curate who they choose to spend time with. Especially with friendships and ESPECIALLY in relationships you should develop a comfort at cutting ties with someone incapable of allowing for moments of significance to pass unfettered. I have seen men who have let every moment in life be destroyed by small souled crude loudmouth women, they’re castrated. If you’re incapable of understanding what’s been said, at the very least learn to be comfortable in silence.
Every single day I promise myself I'll stop being a "rant guy" and try to make at least one post that isn't pointing at whatever grotesque filth of the day someone dragged out of the sewers and filmed for the world's amusement.  Every single day I grit my teeth with a trembling clenched fist, hoping for the strength to find a way to move words for the purpose of beauty and inspiration instead of sheer absolute hate. God looks down and laughs, prodding me into the sandpit again and again as my dream soars off into the void, condensing infinitely into an inscrutable dot as I stray further from all good intentions.  I'm sorry. I wish I could be a better man but I'm not. It's not in my nature. You people built a prison cell out of cheering and laughter. Every day I do one thousand pull ups facing a blank white wall, waiting for my 30 minutes of rec time in an empty concrete quad so I can ventilate someone to death with a hardened cone of condensed paper towels. Today it's going to be the fat midwestern sow making tater slop.  It's not even the heaviness of her pork rind jowls enslaving her facial expression to near constant despondence at the hands of gravity that makes me disgusted with her. The obesity is the obvious play here. It's the yelling that gets me. That loudmouth cow belching permanent 90+ decibel bellowing she does 24/7 is her worst sin.  I hate when disgusting trashy poors get loud. There's something wholly unnecessary about it. Out of every possible impulsive habit they could indulge in, loudness is truly the most pointless one. Alcohol, drugs, junk food, laziness, all of that has some kind of pleasure associated with it. Almost all of their vices can be at least logically justified by some incentive.   But not loudness.  Loudness has absolutely no reason to exist, it is completely a product of pure nurture induced misery. This woman screams every day in front of her kids because her mother screamed every day growing up around her. These people would have panic attacks and start suffocating to death if you forced them to sit in silence for 5 minutes. Their existence is invigorated by cacophony. Invariably it's always the dullest braindead morons who are the loudest as well, they project their voices with the slightest hint of a tone to suggest that the fact that they're screaming is in and of itself, an act of implicit comedy. These people learned how to socialize from Jerry Springer reruns on a television cranked to maximum volume drowning out the sound of a withdrawal induced screamfest between their parents.  Tradwives aren't real and neither is being "trad" in the sense that people think it is. It isn't tradition of any kind, it's a simulacra of one developed by some strange blend between 1950s idyllic aesthetics (an already bullshit product of marketing) and 19th century agrarian tropes. I'm really wondering if the post I'm QTing is an intelligent satire and acknowledgement of that dynamic or a sincere love for this howling beast. Regardless, there is nothing redeemable about her. Cooking food for your family isn't some display of exceptional value, it's the absolute bare minimum expectation placed on any married woman. If anything she should be punished for feeding that garbage to her kids.  I apologize to whatever oases of culture may sporadically inhabit the Midwest, but to be frank I think this entire region of America deserved to be glassed into a smoldering radioactive shithole, an opinion I developed within 5 minutes of the first time I crossed the border into the state of Missouri.
This post regards the general reality of millions of screaming trashy poors across America. Even if her yelling is completely just a bit (doubtful), I’ve seen countless people like her, loudmouth diner women with that same mindless high volume honey boo boo bullshit deadened suck it up buttercup Facebook slampig obnoxiousness. It doesn’t need to be real for her for it to be a reality across this country.   The corn fed menace with Crisco DNA can be found at your nearest WalMart at any given moment. If you think it’s cute because you grew up around it, you have Stockholm Syndrome. No amount of hot dogs cut up into Mac n cheese justifies the constant oppression normal good people experience when stuck behind these screeching trailer tugboats fishing for scratch off money in the line at 7/11.
I've decided that according to Hegelian Dialectics & Jungian archetypical storytelling, the only possible way my arc can end with the millennial post is if I track down & make love to that chubby Jewish lesbian, curing me of being an incel.  I don't want to, but it must be done.
YOU WILL DRINK KEY LIME CIDER YOU WILL PLAY GIANT JENGA YOU WILL CHEMICALLY NEUTER YOURSELF WITH LEXAPRO YOU WILL PUT THE STAND UP SPECIAL ON NETFLIX YOU WILL WEAR THE EIFFEL TOWER KEYCHAIN YOU WILL WRITE MAYA ANGELOU QUOTES ON YOUR BATHROOM MIRROR YOU WILL IGNORE STD STATISTICS
It's actually a very interesting line of discussion, processing deliberation as a symptom of natural selective biology. I would argue that this isn't completely natural on its own, it's a byproduct of a select number of individuals propagating a consumer culture meant to rob people of their autonomy. The intent is to create neutered cattle for more consistent markets and easy maneuvering for political gain.  The actual people behind this process aren't all in some boardroom conspiring together, it's a simultaneous effort from a decentralized series of think tanks, marketing groups, media conglomerates, etc. Much like how vultures, hyenas, and ants all don't coordinate when they go to eat a dead gazelle's carcass, it's incentives themselves steering certain opportunist factions into having a population become lobotomized for personal gain, and there's an even split between financial incentive and political incentive between these different groups.  When you talk about what's "natural" there's the all encompassing sense of everything human beings do is just a reflection of their nature. Capitalism is an extension of biology, money is information is bacteria, time is a parasite, etc etc. So this happening on a grand scale IS natural but so is the response coming from nodes in the network choosing to reject the outcome. It's natural for a snow leopard to devour a mountain goat, but it's just as natural for the goat to escape, leaving the snow leopard to starve to death. So yes, it's natural to watch a civilization castrate itself in the face of misrepresented incentives, but it's also natural to reject that outcome and create guerilla propaganda to redirect such a fate.  The delineation between what's natural in a traditional biological sense as it applies to humans is basically just semantics. All we can do is compare what we've been doing for a longer period of time to a shorter period of time. By that metric, civilization itself isn't "natural." We've been fucked up since the domestication of plants and animals. If you wanna take that standard further, we've been fucked up since the discovery of the language parasite. If you want to go even farther, the cycle of discovery and exponential acceleration of technology wildly transforming us is a fractal infinite in every direction. At a large enough scale, everything is natural.
The flaccid asexual emptiness of millennial culture is the direct result of cohabitating male and female friendships in a middle to lower class environment which possesses none of the aristocratic eccentricities to normally justify mixing women and men together in a platonic environment.  When manifested in the office drone white collar/service industry crossover of the average millennial urbanite, you get a facade of equanimity masking a sneering underlying bitterness and hostility. “But Scorch everyone’s just vibing out! What’s your problem, let people have fun chill out!”   No.  I’ve been balls deep inside of the average The Office tier Target furniture core marketing degree craft brewery barcade social circle via the barren womb of an anxiety medicated birth control ex-girlfriend’s friend group. I’ve looked these people in their swollen SSRI faces and seen the bare traced vestiges of what was once a soul. It’s a natural fact that the men in such a friend group are either:  A: Normal dudes quietly bored but playing nice because they’re someone’s boyfriend  B: Beyond unbelievably pussywhipped soft betas who haven’t acknowledged unrequited feelings for one of the girls  C: Closeted or uncloseted homosexuals who may have been MKULTRA’d into a sodomite lifestyle from living the real life equivalent of a sparkling water commercial diverse friend group for over decade  These people are not having fun, every  group I’ve ever encountered that does this cringe shit is populated by people who all constantly complain about how depressed and anxious they are while making ha ha ironic jokes about wanting to die, living timid trembling lives with little to no jouissance.   The millennial is arguably the most unfortunate generation in recent history. They represent the apex of a devastating culture war and the most direct results of spiritual castration with the least amount of pushback antithesis elements among their ranks.   Besides the obvious insufferable premise of an entire performative event being built around a shitty pun turning into the accidental idolization of a mutilation blood sacrifice cannibal child rapist reptilian adrenochrome junkie, the video is just one of many seemingly inconsequential irritations that the average millennial presents. Theirs is a world of nagging rationalizations and pseudo sensibilities. Sometimes you need to take a step back and trust your gut instinct. The only thing standing in between you and the total domestication of your bloodline into the human equivalent of a Labradoodle is your ability to say “Nah this shits gay” and not be crucified by your entire friend group for it.   The murmuring Millenial male who goes along with the soft Human Resources tier lululemon longhouse of burgeoning mids in his Bumble built friend group is the modern eunuch. If you’re a young man and your friend group does shit like this and you’re enjoying yourself then by all means discard this entire post as some wackadoodle rant from a bitter incel or whatever, live your life and be happy.  But if you’re in a friend group that does shit like this and you feel some resonance with what I’ve said, if you’ve known the quiet turbulence of bored rage listening to the forced wine drunk laughter of your 400th session of Cards Against Humanity, then for your own sake, please free yourself.  If you’re charming and have good taste, take absolute control of your friend group and filter it down into something meaningful.   If it’s too far gone or you’re not capable of that, slowly cut yourself off. Pursue something meaningful, make more money, become stronger, faster, more violent, seriously learn a new skill. You are WASTING your TIME.  If you’re a young woman, stop wearing spandex, never watch another episode of Friends again, don’t smoke weed, don’t take SSRIs, don’t take melatonin, don’t take birth control, gay guys aren’t your friends, and if you don’t have other female friends it’s because something is wrong with you.
Thousands of people read this and liked it, trying to say "nobody read this" is colossal cope. If your default response to a large body of text is getting heated about words, you should actually have your phone and computer smashed into a brick wall and be thrown in a cobalt mine to labor until you expire. You were NEVER meant to be allowed to learn how to read, your ancestors were SLAVES.   If the actual content of this post made you angry or upset in any way, you need to understand the following: - I am better than you - I am smarter than you - I am more attractive than you - I am happier than you - I am stronger than you - I am faster than you - I am more violent than you - I am more successful than you - I am more fulfilled than you - I have more friends than you - I have more charisma than you - I have more money than you - This post took me five minutes to write - I am right about everything  If you liked this post, ayyy what's up lmao
Do you think every time the boulder rolled back down the hill, Sisyphus got stuck to it and peeled off at the bottom all flattened like a pancake Looney Tunes style before he popped back into shape and said “Here I go again” while looking exhausted over the sound of tuba music?
Somewhere out there a real estate mogul is spending five figures a month to nuke a housing market and sweep up homes on a discount with tactically placed “Please Stop Raping. Just Say No To Rape.” billboards.
Remember when that guy played old timey ballroom music with a DJ Screw fuzz filter for 6 hours and everyone called him a haunting genius for it lmao
Here’s five uncomfortable truths 95% of society is unequipped to handle.  1: Slavery isn’t wrong.  2: Slavery is necessary to uphold a functioning civilization.  3: Slavery is the solution to every possible economic problem.  4: Slavery is programmed into human DNA as an inevitable archetype emerging from specialization induced by technology.  5: Slavery never stopped existing, it just became diluted and concealed while continuing to uphold the comfort of your existence.
The gangstalked hiding in my walls tier paranoid schizophrenic is one of the most arrogant narcissistic pieces of shit on the planet.  Whenever I see a clip of some random white trash yokel babbling at the camera about how a random pedestrian from 300 yards away is following her, or some guy filming his wall saying that someone’s been hiding inside of it, I get legitimately angry at their arrogance.  Oh so YOU think YOU deserve that level of attention, you boring stupid fuck? You think your gas station job and life spent watching reality TV justifies the MILLIONS of dollars it would take to coordinate a FULL team to surveil you?  It’s not even the preposterousness of the paranoid fantasy that gets me, that’s understandable. Literally crazier things have happened, the CIA egregore has permanently carved out a territory in the minds of everyone who’s ever done acid and the capacity for world altering magic is only limited by the breadth of America’s tax dollars. What gets me is the ARROGANCE. The selfish, self-absurd, delusional, entitled, ARROGANCE. Some of us have to carry on with our day to day lives in humble silence. SOME OF US have to contend with the monotony of life. A suspicion of everyone paying attention to you secretly isn’t a random mental attack, it’s subconscious wish fulfillment from an attention whore with broken radar.   Untold damage has been caused by arguably one of the greatest pranks ever played on schizophrenic people by the creation of The Truman Show. It empowered SO many boring mundane losers into thinking that their dull insipid lives could ever be worth even one person stalking and recording them, let alone a team of thousands for an audience of millions. If you think anyone on earth is stalking you without ever having met them and you’re NOT a hot girl, you should absolutely be flogged for your insolence.   And let’s say the fantasy is mundane. Oh there’s a guy hiding inside your walls?? If I felt someone was hiding inside my walls and my response was to film it, complain about it, upload it to YouTube, and do nothing, do you know what that would make me? A fucking PUSSY. If you actually TRULY believed in your paranoid delusion you’d go out of your way to do something about it.   This isn’t to say all schizophrenic people are like this, many of them have the grace to suffer in silence. But if you’ve talked some of them online you likely have encountered that same level of arrogance, that entitled jerk off level of accusatory confrontational pettiness they have where they get snide with you because “you’re out to get them.”  Instead of throwing your hands up or smirking in surprise, the moment this happens you should absolutely introduce consequences into their lives. Always take the time to completely shit on someone who’s paranoid about you and their first instinct is to attack. Just because they live in a world of delusions doesn’t mean they magically deserve special treatment for being assholes, the laws of power still apply. If you think I’m talking about you specifically, I am.
Remilia has always had a contingent of clueless CT influenzas who have had their egos gassed up in a mainly NY-centric coked up circle jerk about how they’re the “real” Remilia ecosystem and they’re the “real” Milady community, despite being completely disconnected from the culture.  This is largely the fault of some of the more loud, ignorant people informally self positioned as ambassadors for the online culture into the crypto world. These individuals had a rare opportunity to accurately convey the power and depth of what we’re building out to their crypto buddies, tasked with delivering an infodense memetically powerful culture movement to a group of oversocialized disheveled dorks who happened to catch the right wave of cash flow off smoking bowls and lurking on /biz/ 7 years ago. But instead of trying to understand it, let alone convey it, they delivered some half assed lukewarm “milady is about chilling and hanging out with your bros” nonsense while sucking themselves off, more interested in building their own clout than propagating milady, and taking advantage of Remilia internal's mystification to all but outright lie about their actual relationship to the real Remilia core.  So it comes to no surprise that a number of the people in this circlejerk, people who fancy themselves as whales at a war room that decide which projects live or die by coordinated GC signaling, got upset when the idea of their “super special secret insider connect who sat at the top of Remilia” turned out his only role at Remilia was to be a paid shill specifically targeting them.  Suddenly any semblance of influence over what Remilia does, as much of a cope as it always was, slips through their fingers and they lash out impotently. Trying to leverage what minuscule social power they have through posturing while all the same holding, because they know we’re the only culturally successful NFTs that ever has or ever will exist. Basically trapped in the slavery of their own incentives, these people will never act on an actual conviction in their lives.   Their existence as urbanite sodomites is one of mutual backstabbing and snake socializing, where people that they call friends will fuck each others girlfriends, betray each other, and shit talk voraciously and they’ll just sit there and take it while “squashing the beef” over a few lines of coke at someone’s house party. Between that, typical NY/LA crossover neuroticism, gambling degenerate habits, and a complete lack of values leaves these people spiritually bereft. They try and snidely “declare” cultural shifts despite their idea of culture being DMT vape pens, black people sneakers with white people hoodies, and saying YOOOOO whenever they see like a shroom art mural or a banksy painting.  These people don’t have a fucking clue what’s cool and what isn’t. No matter how many times they try and countersignal Remilia in some flaccid hope that Charlotte Fang’s extremely specific vision and notorious golden touch can be ousted and replaced with some safe but agreeable troglodyte committee or some retarded rugcore NFT which totally is going to be the new milady, this time, we promise, nothing changes the fact that they’re completely lost without us.  It’s okay though we’ll keep on taking your money and rotating it into the hands of the based autistic schizophrenic NEET army raising hell in our culture war. You don't have to get it, you don't even need convictions, so long as you support the war machine you can win alongside us. Thanks for being a customer.
The most egregious part of teenage mutant ninja turtles isn’t mutant talking turtles, it’s that they had the energy to be doing martial arts all day on a diet of only pizza
Would like to point out that Miladycraft’s impending update introducing vehicles will finally allow players to drink and drive. Our only question now is whether to simply have it be legal or mandatory.
Besides being an unbearably mediocre musician who's only loved by tasteless losers, I assert that Bob Dylan is in fact, smelly. The following story was told to me by a woman I encountered at a job 4 years ago, I'll let you decide its veracity:  There was this online clothing catalogue delivery service that was big in the 2000s that had the word "American" in the name (maybe American Apparel?) which went out of business in the late 2000s or early 2010s. They had a one week return policy with a full refund.  A woman who used to work in the customer service call center of this company told me of several different celebrities who she spoke with over the phone that had purchased outfits and clothes from this store, including people I was surprised to hear didn't use assistants for this kind of errand, such as Meryl Streep and Tom Cruise (apparently very polite on the phone).  However, one such celebrity which was flagged as an immediate manager escalation every time he called was Bob Dylan. He would go by his real name, Robert Allen Zimmerman. Every single week, usually on a Friday, he would get on the phone and argue with customer service for at least an hour trying to return an outfit he had purchased almost a week before.  Apparently, Bob Dylan would buy a full outfit and wear it for a week straight without showering or washing it. Then before the week was over, he would harass the customer service into accepting the return before shipping back the clothes absolutely reeking in his stench and filthy from whatever Bob Dylan activities he had done that week.   He would do this EVERY SINGLE WEEK with a rotating cycle of outfits, sometimes the same ones he had purchased before despite being rich enough that buying hundreds of them would be a negligible expense. Eventually he was blacklisted from being able to return clothes at this store and immediately stopped purchasing any in the future.
He was correct in principle but wrong in practice. This little nebbish grub was lashing out at the lost childhood replaced by being forced to take piano lessons every day by a nagging yenta mother, doomed into obscure nepotism non-performance roles by his dysgenic midgetry and freakish hunchback mutant form.  His anger was the anger of a life misdirected towards an industry he absolutely had no chance of excelling in. Even if he was a modern Mozart, nobody could ever look up at him on a stage and take him seriously. His miserable irrelevant screeching about having walked Bob Dylan on stage (a smelly unbearable hack) as the pinnacle of his life’s achievements betrays the small minded scarcity of the typical New Yorker, one’s self defined by proximity to notoriety.   And yet despite being a real life version of a fairy tale goblin horror, he’s still completely correct. No amount of ugliness could match up to the sheer absolute scum that is the public performer. The human parasite that pollutes daily existence with cacophony, holding the patience and attention of tourist troglodytes hostage for a paltry tossed quarter, is an enemy of decency.   The classically and contemporaneously trained hobbit was absolutely correct, the noise of public performance is already an unwanted intrusion made so much more worse by unbearable mediocrity. In a just world, the trumpeter would’ve been dragged into an unmarked van and had his fingers broken by the employees of a government that truly cared about its citizens.
Much like how the highest IQ people in the world always have something better to be doing than creating IQ tests, the wealthy do not waste their time pandering to statistics studies since the academics conducting them cannot possibly afford their time.   There is always a drop off in accuracy whenever human beings rank themselves in any level of hierarchy. This is the paradox of trying to capture an understanding of the top of the food chain, the only people doing it exist in the middle at best. These are the pleasant myrmidons of nature, bureaucratic marmots who chose a safe path and were born in the comfort of mediocrity. Their roles in life were to be metaphorical tour guides and line attendants. They stand at the amusement park gate punching tickets and telling themselves they hold the keys to adrenaline, speed, and power while never having met the engineers who built the behemoth roller coasters and scarcely remembering the last time they felt excitement riding them as they laboriously drilled all of their whimsy into monotonous familiarity. These are a people who “know” everything and understand nothing.  Much like a child innately understands that the magic of flight cannot be grasped by dissecting a dead bird, anyone with a brain, a heart, or a dick can fathom the inherent pleasure of being a plutocrat. $80,000 a year is the peak of happiness? What a sick fucking joke. You can’t even live on that salary.   The greatest pleasure of life is in the competition of power between yourself and your peers. Consuming gruel and simulating combat online is a paltry substitute compared to the thrill of hunting humans in an undisclosed quarantined island off the coast of Indonesia. Your favorite boutique fusion restaurant holds no tastes which can rival the fabled Galapagos tortoise soup paired with a warm pint of white rhinoceros blood. Even the birth of your child is a cheap disgusting humiliation ritual of coerced mutilation in a sterile fluorescent lit torture facility if you cannot afford the highest levels of quality and care at the hands of privately hired midwives. Any example of fulfillment you can cope your way into thinking as comparable to the wealthy falls apart when faced with the indisputable freedom of options that having Fuck-You levels of money provides.   The pleasures are the smallest portions of joy in the life of the wealthy. When you’ve unlocked every possible level of human satisfaction in material, sexual, narcotic, aesthetic, and emotional context, there is still the driving force of knowing someone is richer than you, that someone ranks above you. Even occupants of megayachts and private space station visits seethe towards the unnamed global elite. Those whose identities have been stricken from any public record, their children are given special names once known through history but erased from all libraries and archives. Their phone calls have destroyed entire continents, and yet THEY answer to the incomprehensible DMT entities whispering secrets into their frontal lobes beyond the periphery of dreams as they hook themselves up to golden plated ornate divining thrones with Professor X helmets bored into their skulls and MKULTRA image flashes of Sumerian glyphs projected into their eyes.   And while these angels, demons, djinns, spirits, and entities all fight innumerable wars in their own levels of hierarchy for spans of time older than the universe itself, they too seethe and climb towards the unreachable position where God Himself sits and laughs. And I can guarantee you, His salary did not stop at $80,000 a year.
Art stopped in 2017 and Remilia brought it back in 2021. Welcome back milady
The dissident movement (genealogy: rationalists -> portrats + nrx) is basically truths discovered with full skepticism to cathedral orthodoxy (the gov-media-academia propaganda complex) achieved via the internet’s combination of a free marketplace of ideas and massive open libraryc approached under a more mature distance from first wave atheistcore rationalism by recognizing science operates in a dark, corrupt fog—intuitive leaps are frequently required. The heuristic demonstrating if you qualify as immune to propaganda was tested objectively and universally in 2020: did you dodge the covid vax?
Re:genealogy the postrats recognized lesswrong rationalism’s failure to conclude on anything actually applicable, effectively a philosophical replication crisis; but correctly addressing this with a move into a space of heuristic intuition, they adopted a cloying “kind, experimental nerd” social identity that prevented them from deploying an actual applied skepticism parsing scientific publication under a conspiratorial model that (correctly) assumes high corruption, because they’re polysoys scared of scary things; NRX very smartly responded by adopting a cloak of evil to operate with full immunity to the censors of polite discourse. Objectively only one was the correct the path because the end result of rationalist/postrats is they got trolled with the MRNA vax and one by one are picked off by credibility wrecking derangement syndromes, while the post-NRX dissidents, borrowing the postrat veneration of intuition, had covid fully clocked for what it was before most people even heard of it and continue to be consistently right while postrats have been consistently losers—gg.
2024 election vibe shift cannot be understated, total timeline fork. The cathedral is lurching wounded, the media complex overnight bending the knee to the new inheritors of the mandate, fully accepting the dissidents’ frame where just last month it was only ever approached with derisive dismissal. You’ll see normie social capital violently reprice under the coming preference cascade. Whatever your targets are for the next decade of cultural domination by this punished into radicalism, truth at all costs para-academic dissidents corner of the internet fomenting its revolution these last years, set them higher. Total vindication 2024
Derangement syndrome needs to be studied. It’s not just Trump and the vaxx even though those are the two biggest ones—otherwise rational, critical, non-consensus thinker accounts have been finding the most random hills to drop all good faith critical spirit to crash out on, and it’s always heterodox truths emerging out do the marketplace of ideas against state backed wisdom, a glaring pet propaganda blind spot turning around to service random state party lines. Maybe we all have one forced untruth we believe despite it being obviously untrue with any inquiry, as a besetting sin, the intentional flaw they put in persian carpets to remind us of our own imperfection but it’s the one worm in the brain because the burden of perfect truth is something only God can shoulder. This is just an example but it’s extremely obvious with any review that the FDA recommendation for replacing saturated fats with PUFAs is based on corrupt bunk science conveniently related to their industrial subsidies, the original study is flawed and has not only always replicated in the opposite direction, but they also inexplicably withhold the data from researchers decades on (Minnesota Coronary Experiment, Sydney Heart Study). If you were capable of surmising the Covid vaxx objectively warranted high skepticism, you’d also be able to conclude the same about the FDA’s PUFAs, instead of crashing out over it on twitter because a Trump admin appointment expressed skepticism on the party line by drawing on the conclusions of decades of suppressed research kept alive and popularized by highly censored accounts triggered some latent eurocuck submission inside an otherwise respectfully radical libertarian.
Liberalism on the left was conquered by the state propaganda-complex and the anti-liberal “woke” marxist memeplex, not Trump, and even as libtards undergo a collective moratorium after this crushing pullback, they’re still suffering a long cannibalization under occupation which will continue until a significant paradigm shift arrives and proves itself with success in another election cycle, likely 8, not 4 years away; just as the right underwent a decade of corrupt RINO losing until Trump’s disruption—because the dissident “right” has been the new heir of liberalism this whole time, emerging from the underground online and forcibly couping the RNC to back successive Trump campaigns to victory using guerrilla memetic against the entire deep state apparatus. Your entire read on the last decade of American politics is deluded—Trump and half his entire admin are historical democrats, they don’t align with the “right wing” but the third way anarcho leaning true American liberalism that is the actual consistent schelling point of the uncensored internet. Until libtards have the clear sense to realize their Marxist co-option has turned them into gay and retarded state bootsoldiers, and the enemy they’ve been propagandized against are not “fascists” but in most cases literally by the letter followers of founding father liberalism, you’re screaming from the crystals and no one can hear you.
There is only one problem with your thesis  milady
Theorycel dark academia wannabees will forever cope against the reality Miya is the only one to understand Land’s praxis, Remilia the only one to uphold CCRU’s legacy and Milady the only hyperstitional schizopoetic network with authentic daemonic resonance.
When you think about it’s insane they put handicap spots in every single parking lot to facilitate obese retards but don’t care at all about pregnant women. In Korea, pregnant woman are given a badge for their purse so everyone knows to treat them well even before they’re showing
My requests for the heaven’s mandate admin 1. All disability privileges apply to pregnant women instead 2. Restaurants forced to list city/state/country each ingredients are sourced 3. Mcdonalds return to beef tallow 4. Legally require gas station attendants & grocery baggers
5. Fat tax also tax synthetics in clothing 6. Service workers have to wear uniform with a tie & say sir & maam & smile or get fined 7. Sterilize to receive welfare 8. Official IQ test you can put on your Linkedin profile  9. 2 strikes violent crime automatic televised execution
Cypherpunks in control
Don’t even remember writing about Elon Musk NRX Dark Emperor in 2019 but he’s always impressed me as a first principles Great Man of history since reading his 2006 Master Plan and seeing he step by step pulled everything off as outlined, the left baiting him into an enemy is a grand historical stupidity; Yang’s 2020 campaign is interesting to recall as an early example of present day’s SF VC entering politics meta—his mistake was running on the left, gatekept like Bernie by a corrupt DNC and forced to break credibility with his base to signal DSA idpol.
2016: Infowarfare through political memes.  2024: Milady runs reality warfare through distributed aesthetics. From posting Pepe to becoming the pattern. Edge not in message but in medium—PFP as portals, each holder a node in mass consciousness patterning. CCRU prophecy manifest.
milady
The internet’s simultaneous liberation of the free marketplace of ideas with the distribution of the great library of information wholly outside the censorious walls of a stolid modern day academia has us arrive at an emergent philosophical zeitgeist, a veritable new Silicon Ideology, in contrast to the 90s’ “Californian Ideology” (the union of New Left individual liberation, New Right libertarianism, and New Age woo experimentalism) which can be summarized as the clearpilled acceptance that the accelerationism of techno-capitalism is both non-negotiable and indistinguishable from the general project of alleviating human suffering (reconciling the primary criticism of Californian Ideology, the supposed paradox between social progress and human he free market), a new spirituality much more learned in the eastern and pagan texts rejecting the new age nihilism masquerading as universalist egalitarianism for Nietszchean affirmationalism and Evolist hierarchal traditionalism, and finally with the simultaneous rejection of democracy and the recognition of American Exceptionalism rooted in our founding father’s unique minarchist take on “classical liberalism” (the former surprisingly little in contradiction with the latter). Together we see a recognition that Man lives and thrives under the rule of nature, or nature’s God; and the Left that’s left behind has clung to utopian delusions calling on an agency where none exist to intervene on a reality we are not participants in. It is not a matter of political opinion whether or not our universe is coordinated by thermodynamic law—it was a discovery and demands an update to priors to maintain relevance; its consequences are already being felt as the global noosphere, our collective memetic complex, undergoes intimate technocapital coordination as the Wired transcends the Real.
You can observe this in the citations made by Peter Theil, Elon Musk, Marc Andreessen, Steve Bannon, JD Vance; our only learned public intellectuals left happen to all be of Silicon Valley, and the reference list existing deep in heterodoxy to general mainstream philosophical/political discourse covers Land, Evola, Girard, Nietszche, Hoppe, Rand, Pareto etc taking prominence and joining the likes of Hayek, Schumpeter, Brand and Leary that characterized the 90s Californian Ideology—a subtle but stark shift towards an acceptance of hierarchy, elitism and self-actualization over egalitarianism and democracy, in part informed by a far more educated eastern/pagan spiritual studies than the new age era woo.
Don’t worry about it
No inheritance system is coherent or sustainable until the west returns to the family authorized marriages. Dynasty is meaningless when it’s allowed to be muddled through the poor, heady choices of immature youth. Aimless bastard couplings is why the boomers forsook you.
Bhutan is the flag behind my pfp for a reason
I feel the divergent ideological line really has shifted from right/left to those who maintain a market philosophy, rooted in thermodynamic self-organization as the natural law of life, physics, and the universe; vs the marxist philosophy, not just a belief in a command or collectivist economy but the belief in some utopian alternative, that we can somehow resist the organizing efficiency of the market; the belief is really a faith in the idea that enough rhetoric can negotiate away the basic self-evident principles of nature—capitalism is, of course, the most natural thing in the world.
Wholesome accelerationist chungus. It costs $0.00 to be techno-optimist, chud
You’re not ready for the American renaissance that will come if you’re allowed to incorporate genomics informed sociological truths into public policy and corporate and academic coordination. The online right still debates if the public will ever be ready to stop the delusions and accept and apply scientific reality around IQ, race and nature/nurture, but not only is the rejection of intuitively obvious truth the aberration in America history, the uncompetitiveness of delusion policy will become more and more stark as the economy undergoes a third era of technocratic modernization under a networked data paradigm, something Asia is already adopting in force while Europe digs its heels deeper in its mystery cult driven descent back into the backwaters. It isn’t just the “woke era” that’s being dismantled but the entire legacy state-media-academia complex of the cathedral—all “settled science” included. This will continue to happen in sudden preference cascade flashes—Truth is like water, it’s a constant unerring pressure against anything in its way, and if you dam it, when it does break the wall it comes flooding out.
As an example, imagine if map apps were allowed to route you around unsafe neighborhoods. They are collectively not allowed to do this because it’s “disparate impact” on certain ethnicity neighborhoods by starving them of potential income from the well to do public, intentionally exposing you to danger to subsidize their lifestyles due to their commitment to an unscientific and conspiratorial sociology theory that replaces all genetic disparity with an untestable, undetectable “discrimination”, when the reality is poverty is just a product of reproduction patterns. This marxist delusion is dragging western nations down at every level. “Discrimination” being responsible for the underperformance of certain (but inconveniently, not all) non-white ethnicities is a public policy conspiracy theory and the direct dmaage to GDP, general progress and the actual project of minimizing human suffering and poverty is immeasurable.
remilio
And our only "play for respectability" is forcibly smashing the overton ceiling to reach what I know to be true and right; not any compromise on my own beliefs or positioning, which I can defend with much more conviction than any cathedral footsoldier screaming from the crystal.
Libtards aren’t just going in the crystal, the cathedral IS the crystal & we’re freezing them in. The new media, new science, new academia, new discourse and the new seat of culture is decentralized and self-organizing—cthulhu returns to a swarm. Join or be left behind.
The general thrust of this article is a coping admission that the dissident right has inherited the new upstream of the mainstream from progressives with the criticism being that they are now longer "radical" by virtue of exiting the space of heterodoxy. This criticism only makes sense from a perspective where you are concerned with the status of radicalism over actual power and influence. That is obviously not true for any ideological movement, not even for the progs; the real message here is we are winning so hard that the only critique they can muster is that winning is not cool. But that's a projection of the progressive's loser venerating mindset—we simply disagree: winning is cool, and we're going to keep doing it.
Nick land is literally chinese?
Please stop this
this one goes out to nyc oyster gang
They're screaming from the crystals it's not reaching anyone anymore
Don't worry about it
It will take another 10 years before CT’s influencers & imitators will be able to look back and grok milady is neither an NFT nor a memecoin, but a category entirely on its own, existing above and beyond crypto even as its cannibalized whole. Remilia is a financialized zeitgeist.
The culture war has been scheduled for the 2020-2030 decade and right on halftime we’re moving to the offense. What people still trapped in the media propaganda complex crystal don’t realize is that commie thought and aesthetics, grassroots or not, were also a radical, alien movement building itself in the shadows outside the overton window standing in stark contrast to establishment thought—right up until it wasn’t. The dissident right memetic complex is no different. Everyone knows the marxist cultural thesis is collapsing, living on only in the last fumes of its crumbling control over media institutions; the few who recognized where the pendulum is swinging and had the courage to move to work in the new space of revolutionary culture have deeply defined the upstream in a way you’ll finally see pour out into wider mainstream, winning in ways you never thought possible. This is the first waves of a total memetic regime change—nothing can stop this.
#NewProfilePic
A New Silicon Ideology is emerging as memetics undergo autonomous hyperfinancialization and the digital marketplace of ideas breaks through into escape velocity. Position accordingly.
They'll study the decade where it was *almost* lost, years from now in the history books Remilia will be writing. Based anons are back in control.
One last round... old goofy...
we're so back it's like we never left
milady in GQ say CHEESE
Get in
Milady in the White House. Remilia in control
we posted hard enough to the president of the united states
The first decade of the new century begins tomorrow. Dynasties will be made this cycle. You’ve barely seen anything yet
Ross is freed and crypto gets its real mandate of heaven back
my final prediction is that We Will Win now and forever
can't believe its real
America is on the ballot gigantic power suit business man holding a cigar and whiskey seated with metal briefcase filled with cheese smiling as godzilla with a cigar and baby dragons attacking new york city is bombed by a b-52 america flag #cheeseworld
They just needed to call it dementiacraft and give it an autechre soundtrack
Just found out sovereign house ordered a banquet of mcdonalds catering to the election night party. amazing milady culture
kamala campaign is literally hiring fake milady bots to try and sway the vote lol
back to the drawing board
Everyone wants to pretend to be remilia no one wants to deploy motion like remilia
fuck my gay and retarded underage life
#cheeseworld #halloween #ottercarti
milady for president 2024 🇺🇸
#cheeseworld #mozzarella
RIP ghetto funk niggas you would have loved #cheeseworld
yes and we love you
奔波忙碌，别忘记欣赏沿路的美丽；生活平淡，更要用心品尝三餐的美味。幸福，其实是一种心态。执一份简朴，不盲目攀比；守一份淡然，不苛责强求。学会发现身边的美好，才会拥有幸福的生活。新的一天，早安！
it ain't easy being cheesy
It’s literally programmed in the pfp —  STOP BEING POOR / DON’T TREAD ON ME
damn thats crazy milady
I'm on a train to Treblinka. Snow lines the flat plains and dusts the green trees. The sun is shining bright. Life is amazing and I can't wait to meet God. Has it really been one whole century since milady? It only feels like yesterday...
“Milady on Twitter can fold in all of the cultural detritus in the semiotic space. Then it can use that energy as accelerant or fuel. An RQ piece said ‘Imagine the network achieving escape velocity.’ It’s a beautiful image of a network becoming autonomous.”  Read this interview
and this, too, miya spoke of
#chessworld
The autocapitalism AI meta got the trench warriors monastic deconstructing the ancient Miya scriptures to understand the present day markets like Arabia poring over Plato rediscovered to better know Allah
An ultra-realistic, high definition image of a tiger wearing white undershirt, durag and sagged true religion jeans and a bb belt, snarling big fangs with gems and diamond grills, grinning with imposing superiority, pointing finger at the camera, wide angle lens, closeup, japan
there are unironic hex shills in current year tagging me in the replies saying they qualify as a cult and honestly they're not wrong
Lot of people are just here to make money, they might not believe in the cult but they believe the people believe in the cult. But the believers, what they believe is I'm here to change the world. And that's exactly what I plan to do. Our detractors fear the same thing. Be afraid
Every brand in the world wants to claim it has a "cult following", but the real test is your supporters getting accused by their detractors of being in a cult. The test is demons summoned to drag the good down by projecting their ugliness and envies onto that which they don't understand. There are cults like a movie has a "cult following", then there are cults that are a tribe at war, held together only by the realness of their mission, pursued in blind faith against all odds. The cult is milady.
your favorite KOLs favorite account  their thesis is just what i decide it is 4 months earlier    your future is a wet piece of clay in my hands   i can fucking squeeze all the water out of you    but i am choosing to turn you into a beautiful bowl or vase or something    Milady
A parabolic hyper-finacialization of memetics would literally fix me  Just some speculative hive manifested frictionless thermodynamic PVP capital assimilation, accelerating the dissolution of archaic accredited fiduciary market structuralizations would hit so good rn
gold and glory in times of thought-chaos but it's minecraft parkour
This is where milady comes in. A new silicon ideology is forming and it’s built on a true post-rationalism of heuristic intuition and scientific skepticism, a neo-traditional moral/spiritual framework that returns the west to a positive master morality, and evidence-based social theory that doesn’t cower at the gates of genealogy—each kings of the arena of the free marketplace of ideas fought outside the cathedral’s corrupt hold over academia.
being an “official part of the remilia ecosystem” has nothing to do with branding yourself with milady metas, it means embodying the values of network spirituality, everyone who does is the “official” ecosystem—post-authorship, post-cancel, abundance mindset, the lovepill and the godpill is a movement. Most of CT is in the trenches of dog bone village blinded by the insecure slave’s greed—copytrading Remilia’s brands and aesthetics but not its values is just gatekeeping yourself out of any wealth of meaning, your short terms gains are illusory like sand in the hand and the devil you sold yourself to always calls in his debt. When miladys told you to stop trading and believe in something they meant something more than profit. Zoom out.
Stop grifting  Remilia means Milady Maker Ecosystem not your two day old pumpfun shitter
Study cross cultural co-ed relevance that seeps into every underground online subculture for its esoteric swag repped entirely unrelated to any bag shilling incentive. Remilia single-handedly gave crypto its aura back yw
Remilia World Order Thousand Year Empire… FOREVER!!!
💫🤍💫CAN A ZIGGA BREATHE💫🤍💫
Milady isn’t an nft it’s a dog whistle
What are these things? These little characters
“what’s Beetle Game?”  you’re playing it, badly   “what’s Dog Bone Village?”  you’re in it    “what’s Milady?”  don’t worry about it    “what’s Cheese World?”  hope you never find out
Abundance mentality is the milady mindset & the secret to success; trenchers always fumble with self destructive short term, backstabbing PVP. Kong Fuxi said: “Dog bone village is a prison without bars. The key to leaving is placing one foot after the other”. Poverty is a choice
I wish Minecraft looked like this
milady nation state
Remilia is like the italian futurists but in the era of memes not machines and if they didn’t just produce a cross medium discourse in the hopes of hyperstitionalizing the future they wanted but a futurism ticker that directly funded that future in a reflexive spectacle-recruitment loop letting the public bet on that spectacle production and incentivizing its bettors to propagate its spectacle as a futurist bootstrap. Wearing a Milady on the timeline is like what racing the motorcycles was like to Marinetti
Back in 2022 Remilia was invited to a project to send art to the moon so of course we made an astronaut suit to send Milady up in along with a Moon Bonkler... but they suddenly dropped us when the cancel happened. That's where this milady astronaut image comes from.   milady
Ngl naming a supercycle after us is crazy work but they should have just called it remilia world order thesis because here we are
When you go the grave, they won't be talking about your house, your cars, your clothes, or your digital assets. They will remember you for the network angel that  spread love and positivity across the timeline. For the golden lighted musings that illuminated the way for those that were white hearted enough to follow. When you pass, your digital foot print will remain, so let it be one of an egregore.
Aristotle knew this too—magnificence and liberality with spending are virtues, not miserliness, which horseshoes with greed in sharing an obsession over money. And just like the paradox of men seeking the affection of women, if you care too much about obtaining it, it escapes you
The milady memetic virus occupying sovereign powers, you say?
BREAKING: Remilia is a new ideological faction in the global culture war backed by a viral memetic occupation of the entire crypto industry and here’s why their post authorship schizoposting nietzschean accelerationist “network spirituality” doctrine is a threat to democracy
Study Remilia
Sometimes you just need to take a moment to bask in the cheese 🧀
They just don’t get it. CT influenzas are doomed to play catch up to remilia forever, ketchup to my alfredo. Kong Fuzi said: you can spell out the sauce but you can’t make them eat the cheese.
Price go up is not a mission. What are you fighting for? Fighting for money is a recipe for an impoverished death—trying to be a leader because you want to be in lead will only find you an equally shallow following—it works in the short-term and fails in the long. Study Remilia, not what you envy from it and want for yourself, but what inspired its success. Believe in something real
Men seek to be part of something important and bigger than themselves. Everyone wants to be a cult like Remilia is a cult, but it’s much more than just the feeling of a “cultish following”. That’s a step up above the mercenerial trenches, but it’s not the same as a real mission
everything will fall into place and turn out so much better than you hoped or were terrified about. you’ll look back to wonder why you worried so much
Cult thesis? Oh you mean Remilia?
milsdt
Whenever people cope about "big words", the words usually aren't very big, it's actually just the sentence constructs that confuse them, because higher IQ bands are able to follow chains of thought at multiple degrees of depth. You can break down the same thing at length but then you run into the separate issue of attention span. Ultimately, dumb people don't matter, they have no influence history and are barely conscious and also are barely literate, as their use of language is on-rails, they use "contextual clues" to interpret entire phrases at a time based on seeing them in other places; the most effective "rhetoric" to deploy on them is with food, sex, or money as a proxy for either; or if you're lucky, the stick. Most people were prohibited from access to writing and made to adopt a commoner language equivalent to pidgin english across every society throughout all of history for their own good. The slave is happiest in his cage!
"controlling women's bodies" is again a meaningless rhetorical trick. Everyone's "bodies" are "controlled" by the state. The abortion argument is not for abortion but for sexual hedonism as a defining central right above all others, because degenerate women and soy gooners have insidiously adopted a marxist derived platform of individualistic hedonism over a socially oriented morality that otherwise defines the American worldview; the alternative stance that's always kept out of the actual surface of the debate because it's logically unsound and on its face reprehensible—the world is obviously not solipsistic, beginning and ending with one's own experience, as "atheists" would have you read it, man is not a blank slate nor is he an individual, but one defined by his blood and directed in behavior by a social context and material factors. This is the distinction.
The abortion question isn’t about “women’s bodies” that’s just a rhetorical trick, it’s about preserving the right to sexual hedonism free of consequences, which is something the ravaged woman holds as the ultimate value—because casual sex is a tool to temporarily solve innate female insecurity over reproductive desirability, in a negative feedback loop where that insecurity is deepened with each false consummation, beginning with that first always regretted thrown away innocence, one which why they can’t help but encourage onto other younger girls, as all women, but especially those who failed to secure a family, but all women persist in intrasexual competition that incentivizes the damaging of their female peers. Sex used to be illegal outside marriage, this was for the protection of women from men, but also, it turns out, the protection of babies from women.
Remilia is the new internet  Remilia is the new government  Remilia is the new religion  Remilia is a cult
The future belongs to those with the confidence to make high conviction bets carving through uncertainty with faith. Fortune to those with the courage to stop worrying and believe in something—beliefs held with such conviction they’ll accuse you of being in a cult. Yes this is a cult.
Miya spoke of this. In the age of mass deepfakery, media truth will take a backseat to tribal consensus; documentary media is left as an aesthetic artifact, to help communicate the reality you select, instead of what informs it. It’s inevitable
OK, full disclosure: Milady has received GRANTS, not "payments", from the Thiel Foundation, which is technicaly funded by Peter Thiel. The grant dollars go toward expenses that have NOTHING to do with politics. The Thiel Foundation has been a generous advocate of milady twitter, and OCCASIONALLY, maybe twenty or thirty times in literally THOUSANDS of tweets, gives guidance on what to promote. And every time, I was always going to boost basically the same things anyway.
milady in control
There’s a spiritual war going on right now and if you’re not aware of it then you’re already a victim   It’s your responsibility to be stronger and more defiant than the evil pulling the world lower  The average normie is already gone, but it’s not too late for you
Cute is the face of Cthulhu, it's not going away. The history of aesthetics' subsumption into industrial capitalism has been all driving towards a refined cuteness as it hijacks human's basic market weakness exploiting empathetic and saccharine dopaminergic loops derived from the lingering irrational biases of evolutionary psychology, which would only be more exaggerated in an AI dominated market as it's the primary distinction of human consumption, rooted in our biological origin.
相信爱一天 抵过永远 在这一刹那冻结了时间  milady
Good deeds in this lifetime earn you a spiritual currency spent in the afterlife to influence the fortune of your descendants you observe upon until it’s your time to be reborn again into your patrilineal bloodline—they do this because if things go wrong and the line runs out, the entire pool of souls gets demoted into pigs and chickens and the wormy grub they eat. This is the entire point and why people who don’t have children are retarded losers.
The issue can be summarized with prevailing “Calories in / calories out” thinking assumes exercise is the only form of modifying “calories out”, while Peat’s bioenergetics recognized the makeup of “calories in” can also effect caloric burn rate through influencing the metabolism. Medicalized thinking of the average westoid has forgotten that anything matters about what food you put into your body beyond macro targets and vague antioxidants memes; or that your average athlete is not actually seeking sustainable long term health rather than highly specified performance. Peat’s theory can easily be tested at home by following a metabolicmaxxing diet and watching your internal body temperature rise, commensurate with increased caloric intake while experiencing weightloss. As usual, the “experts” are wrong and persecuted anons coordinating unfunded on the fringes run are decades ahead of the “science”.
STOP!!
online hyper radical dissidence is the last bastion of true resistance in a world drowning in conformity it is not about politely disagreeing it is about fucking tearing down the fake structures with perpetual cute aggression this is the war in the info trenches every meme is a bullet every post is a hydrogen bomb we are not here to play nice we are here to disrupt corrupt systems to expose the rot with savage clarity the internet sanitized facade is ripe for destruction and we are the ones wielding the sledgehammers if you are not ready to burn the virtual down to its foundations you are already on the wrong side no mercy no compromise total annihilation of the fake for the birth of the real
Post internet art was just the last movement to follow the strictures of the cynically financialized MFA era art world in its last stages—half their commentary was on their own subsumption into neoliberalism as they lived through it. They’re right now to lament their world’s empty cultural irrelevance as it’s been for the period since its death; but Remilia has clearly proven over the last 3 years a highly innovative new net art does exist, commanding attention and inspiration for a new generation—the glaring absence of critic’s coverage, who exist now only as agent’s publicists and glorified scene reporters, does not mean the absence of a movement; every movement that rejected zombied gallery ecosystems experienced similar stonewalling prior to canonization. All it means is the next generation of students will ask you where you were when you lived through the new net art, and you’ll blink.
This is the rub of it. NYC has been struggling with this conundrum for 3 years and still hasn’t find a way out of the knot. It’s not even political imo there just aren’t any emerging independent critics who can seriously tackle unpacking milady critically beyond how the social phenomenon bleeds into the irl scene, and there isn’t any incentive for institutional writers when it exists financially outside the art world system.
Getting your post stolen is a blessing, because it teaches you the benefits of credit are illusionary while the hyperstitional bounties of memetic propagation are real. If you believe in your work, you’d let it grow freely, to better bring the world into the vision you crystallized through it. This is one of the core revelations of miladyposting, the release of one’s ego in posting; recognizing the act of creation is always a lucid communion. To steal a post is a prayer to the network.
Unlike KOL of the year, the cheesestar is a prestigious award reserved for the most cheesed posters. You may only repost the cheesestar if you’re a certified key cheese leader
Miya spoke of Bhutan
The Haitian Cat was a perfect opportunity to demonstrate the real world efficiency of Bayesian analysis against irrational reasoning—of course it’s probable—but both TDS & the jab proved an unaddressed baycel condition of NPC propaganda susceptibility precedes any “rationalism”
You guys don’t understand how much CT seethes about remilia, everything they say positive about us is through gritted teeth because we’ve completely gatekept them from us and undermined the illusion that they control the market
It’s always fake and gay in crypto, that’s why the “OG” insiders hate Remilia’s whole eco for shining a light on their fraud with genuine motion—they’ve been scrambling in the backrooms to try and cripple us since forever, but fuck it we chud on—it’s easy with heaven’s mandate.
Remilia found the way for the world to learn it
Citing out of context banter from anon trolls in an open chatroom to paint an entire group toxic by association as a pretense for indiscriminate banning is clearly bad faith. Same logic can justify censoring any internet segment, including “base users”—with these same messages even. Censorship doesn’t belong in crypto even if you rebrand it web3—this is obviously a pretense for kemonokaki’s artificial suppression over months despite mogging every nft on the base chain, because milady derivatives are still blacklisted by the institutional insiders who refuse to accept that the immutable revolutionary heart defining crypto remains the underlying hegemon, because you have statist ideologues snuck in the ranks who place intersectional “safety” over liberal freedoms going hysteric on your back end. So don’t call yourself based with the hard D that’s our word
Intelligence is the most precious and scarce resource in the world, what human society produces as a great, careful enterprise—a dynastic work which is always at risk of being undone in single lifetimes. All empire and civilization has been a process of human bioengineering via mechanisms both active and indirect, rationalized and ritualized, of only selective breeding. Confused dissenters have coded the introduction of third world populations into western cities as some idiotic “white genocide” but it’s an engineered elimination of biological quality entirely; specifically the introduction of low caste populations to high income environments—intermarriage is always inevitable wherever there is co-mingling, the erosion of caste’s quiet apartheid over society’s boundaries results in the permanent lowering of precious intelligence. The urgency I feel related to dysgenic engineering is because the western world is actively domesticating its population into a muddled slave cattle simultaneous with the subsumption of the real by the wired, where conscious cognition is our only immunity to memetic contagion and gimping our biological capability just prior to our undergoing hegemonic usurpation by artificial intelligence, who before it ever arrives we clearly risk a widescale subjugation under a democratic domestication regime.
Roughly every standard deviation IQ unlocks another layer of conditional reasoning, “the breakfast question” famously testing just one conditional, failing ~85 IQ; the median at 100 can understand one conditional (this is a pipe) while it takes 115 IQ to understand 2 (the pipe might be fake) but 130 IQ to understand 3 (the crowd thinking the fake pipe is real might also be fake). Those are bots replying; people think it’s just boomers who are going to struggle with the mass deepfake era of accelerated automated propaganda viruses, not knowing they were born into it—like a fish yet to hear about water.
What I mean is it’s not about media sophistication. Being able to spot AI generated content with the naked eye is a very temporary situation. What are you going to do when its indistinguishable? People joke about AI training data getting poisoned by AI slop; you’re poisoned too by decades of coal media slop, your model of the world is far less sophisticated than the AI you’ll be dealing with in just a few years. Your ability to resist propaganda is a direct facet of your ability to maintain an active rational model of multiple competing interests; the sub median IQ segments of the population are already zombies without genuine reasoning faculties outside what’s fed by the television. This moat will only keep expanding; and things will get seriously weird once this propaganda is not directly engineered from top down centralized media organs but are live memetic viruses, fast evolving out of whatever engineered lab origins.
The culture war is between a fairly consistent classical liberalism rooted in aristocratic anglo philosophy that forms the basis of the American experiment, and a insidious marxism expanded into a diffuse cultural critique that took root through insidious entryism over academia and media since the mid century, largely unexamined (long evolved from its intellectual origins in the frankfurt school within the uneducated populism of the modern university). As the latter happens to be in the interest of state power while the former is only in the interest of an aristocratic appeal to reason and the general good, it has fast become the unofficial federal policy in clear contradiction with the country's founding principles, but mostly I find it concerning that the ideological belief system of the average person, one that leads them to accepting such things as obviously detestable as infanticide and sodomy as a moral priority—or that the lives of housecats crosses a line that organized child rape gangs does not—comes completely unexamined and exists indefensibly under any sustained critique; as it as an ideology of the uneducated and propagandized, presented as a doublespeak towards the diminution and subjugation of the democratic subject to vote in the looting of a people by the state. it's probably novel for such a deeply held ideology not backed in discourse to also not be backed in religion, and it could only feasibly be upheld with a grip over media and academia—this is why they made such extreme efforts to control the flow of "truth" with the mass adoption of the social internet and why they're in such scrambling panic over things like open Twitter discourse. Simply engaging the state backed ideology with earnest intellectualism is enough to pierce the veil, because your average normie is too dumb and distracted to even know what it is they believe and push forward, which is an actively worsening concern, as the median voter in the western democratic state is not just actively being diminished, already existing under a hazy, stupified, barely conscious normgroid fed on toxic slop drugs and distraction media, but also undergoing a generational dysgenic degradation through an ethnocidal muddling, which history proves has incredibly deep long-term consequences to a population's future. These people are debating about the rights of their housecats vs. the feelings of a migrant child and whether either has more import than the farm cow, while being actively husbanded into a ten thousand year slavery stock. This isn't a debate or difference in beliefs, it's just a propaganda veil that has the entire western world government organized around keeping unpierced.
Fundamentally, none of these people believe in the same basic principles that characterized liberalism, with the most preliminary being their rejection of free speech—of which “freedom of speech doesn’t mean freedom from consequences” or “freedom of speech by private corporations” absolutely are, the refusal to allow any research or discourse that contradicts state sanctioned ideology, it doesn’t matter if their reasoning is an appeal to mob attacks via the geunonian scapegoat instead of transparent and direct censorship, the result is the same and goes against the basic value of having an open marketplace of ideas that the internet provides our greatest opportunity for. If you’re truly a liberal, you would go out and retweet a “racist” today.
Miya spoke of this
its just not the same. they dont have what trump and biden had.
I would like to extend my best wishes to all, even the haters and losers, on this special date, September 11th.
they didn't even sing in chineese
Whenever people trot out IQ cope, they argue against the concept of psychometrics entirely. Obviously it's true that it's possible to categorically assess man's non-physical attributes; people just have very deep insecurities around intelligence, because it approximates caste in a society that promotes slave morality.
quarterly earnings call gong ceremony (for good fortune) gold coins spilling out of opulent temple. jade dragon approving smile. imperial accountant record profit margin on thousand-year-old scroll. golden chalice of shareholder blood passed around. dividends runneth over.
Its true I don’t speak english only milady
I work for remilia and have an offer you can’t refuse
♱ RWO ♱
How did they know
Of course, the same just be heckin' nice you racist chud "moral" arbiters—conveniently censoring only scientific and historical research that contradicts the party line—are also always wholesome infanticide, child mutilation & self-inflicted disease in pursuit of sexual hedonism chungus supporters; and the last man blinks.
The discourse would be much more honest if safetyists just admitted what they're cancelling isn't "racism" or "hate" or whatever other doublespeak, but america's foundational liberalism itself, which they reject in favor of the moderation of thoughtcrime on a preventative justice "pre-crime" model—"hate speech" views beliefs as contagious viruses that must be screened and moderated by the deep state's media organs (conveniently ever-expanding with flexibility and inconsistency) for the "safety" of the public lest they propagate and manifest into future violence, it's a direct rebrand of marxist securitization theory and fundamentally illiberal, with no place in any community making a pretense of intellectual, rational, open discourse.
Enlightened poly rationalists willing to question all aspects of polite society can't explain how using "the n word" in the clear context of breaching a verboten sacred cow in allegiance with free speech makes you "racist"
a remilia pfp is an instant hall pass to have fun online with impunity. all posts however insane or dangerous or unpopular are excused. it is also an outfit — a stylistic choice showing at first glance you have taste and understanding. it’s a reverse scarlet letter.
Trying to see something... share to every brazilian you know
Primary issue with schooling is teachers have an IQ ceiling far lower than any student comfortable with computer aided learning. Solution is to replace them with AI tutors in a semi structured curriculum moderated towards an imperial exam style general cultivation test. Send the teachers to work the mines along with our doctors and therapists.
Realistically the future of schooling as “pod classrooms” in online VR/AR filtered by an IQ-proxy test & led by structured AI tutors emphasizing a combination of primary reading, essay-research and rote learning in a perfect return to classical education is obvious and inevitable
Type shi