BURRO PARA UM CARALEOOOOW
pois: reclamar do estado, até meus gatos conseguem. já eloquência e mais de dois neurônios... poucos.
parei em "o temer está no centro da elite aristocrática socialista do brasil." parei correndo pro banheiro de tanto rir, mas parei.
didn't know bout that one, hmmm
holy fkn shit, reply guy now replies, impulses, likes, comments and has no dick anymore. dystopia is here.
https://z-library.do/book/4731168/acc891 #bookstr #narcostr
well, I'm not. besides, you got pretty hands.
there's no such a thing as goodness, that's the point. as I told someone here a while ago, I'm way more doubtful and afraid of those who claim to be good than of those labeled as bad. as long as you are aware of the evil within, you're way ahead of most of us who refuse to admit there's nothing out there but a scale always to be balanced.
yin yang.
that's it. it's enough to make others believe, even that we're wicked. or that the others are. the eternal battle between good and evil is necessary as well.
I've been thinking about it a lot lately, tbh. I often say that i don't believe in anything beyond entropy since i had my first contact with quantum physics (via amit goswami) 25 years ago. the problem is: i don't need to believe in anything, as long as others do. ay?
"A beloved poet said to me recently, that "we are surviving empire." I don't know if I am, surviving, but I get up every day as an act of refusal, a way to decide who I will be and how I will live. Poetry allows me to translate myself despite the decaying conditions we are subjected to. When I am asked what I was doing while these nations died out slowly, I will say I was uninterested in craft but invested in commitment, in mobilization, in the aliveness of others. As a poet thinking about place, I have been unable to move these past months. Not from Al-Shifa Hospital, not from Darfur, not from the images, the screams, the distortions, or the destruction of homelands. Place is both a present and future existence, one that we must fight for."
https://scalawagmagazine.org/2024/09/love-letter-from-a-poet-under-empire/ #resistr
Kelly: So you have multinational global currency collapse, social friction and warfare both between the rich and the poor and within nations, and you have continentwide environmental disasters causing death and great migrations of people. All by the year 2020, yes? How certain are you about all this, what you call your optimism?
Sale: Well, I have spent the last 20 years looking into these problems, and I have suggested to my daughters, who are in their 20s, that it would be a mistake to have children.
Kelly: Would you be willing to bet on your view?
Sale: Sure.
Kelly: OK. [Pulls out a check.] Here's a check for a thousand dollars, made out to Bill Patrick, our mutual book editor. I bet you US$1,000 that in the year 2020, we're not even close to the kind of disaster you describe—a convergence of three disasters: global currency collapse, significant warfare between rich and poor, and environmental disasters of some significant size. We won't even be close. I'll bet on my optimism.
Sale: [Pauses. Then smiles.] OK. [Sales reaches over to checkbook on his desk and writes out a check. They shake hands.]
Kelly: Oh, boy, this is easy money! But you know, besides the money, I really hope I am right.
Sale: I hope you are right, too.