In which Naranjo is a place and other things
No, seriously, there's a town here called Naranjo. There's also a Banano somewhere, I'm pretty sure. Here :
The problem with "modern conveniences" such as you know, electricity, is that in order to be convenient at all (which means -- so that you can afford them in the first place) they have to impose a significant visual cost on the environment, such that I can't take a picture of the god damned church without the fecal droppings of modernity insinuating themselves in the shot one way or another. This then necessarily drives the perception of futility -- why bother make a church that looks like anything other than a brutalisti pile of crap when you won't be able to enjoy it as anything but turd stew anyway ?
The necessary answer is, of course, "let the many suffer pain, hunger and premature death for the enjoyment of the few, the very precious few, teh band of brothers", but it might take a while. In that interim, we continue as best we can :
But let's move away from this ancient curse, this opium for the masses. Let's win the war on drugs [for the masses], and instead live in an utopia of the future! Here's how it goes :
The explanation under the empty, cubic foot sized church-replacement fashioned out of cardboard and whatever else was cheaply available reads "Biblioteca libreii, libros para intercambiar". I think we well understand each other.
Meanwhile, here's how modern poverty looks :
As the expression goes,
Knowing you was my fate, leaving you behind is my pleasure...
This isn't "good" or in any case promising, pregnant, productive poverty -- such as in, say, the modern Japanese. The sad patterns in the specific forms of insufficiency, of barren lack of perspective, of uncapitalized hopelessness aren't going to be repeated, with fractal, Riemann insistence into overpowering artwork that washes over the world. There's no and there's going to be no manga repeating the ridiculous wooden footwear for the ondulated sheet, for the spurious razor wire, for the little packaging material "houses" huddled precariously on a hillside. A land that nobody loved, because the local ruminants don't usually achieve the cognitive development required to develop a capacity for loving anything -- and if they do they immediately fly off. A land of helium, so to speak.
I suspect we understand each other, so let's move on.
Cuati!!!
———No, there's no such thing as "futurism", sorry. [↩]Free as in freedom, not as in beer, amirite ? [↩]
« Happy Mew Year's!
Tamara Drewe »
Category: La pas prin lume
Tuesday, 02 January, Year 10 d.Tr.
Imaginary questions nobody asked of me, an incomplete compendium.
Intro :
mircea_popescu: but since we're doing flavours, here's a bit of flavour : this certain slut's not been allowed to cum for a long time now, i won't get into the details. as i'm running out of unpleasant things to make her do to herself (btw, ever had a girl rub salt in her snatch ?), she got ordered to buy some nice thick candles ("you got candles ?" "you mean like tealights ?") and deepthroat them while dripping wax on her snatch and rubbing it out.
mircea_popescu: guess what happened ?
asciilifeform: lol!
mircea_popescu: you're supposed to guess what happened!
asciilifeform: http://btcbase.org/log/2017-01-03#1595615
Wednesday, 27 June, Year 10 d.Tr.
Iguanapost. I guanapost ? Igu an apost ? I guan a post!
So at about three this morning a choice presented itself before my weary eyes (I had been approving stamped tits all night, bear with me) : do I go to bed ? Or do we go to the beach ?
A shade past four we were flying at 120 over the esteemed Carretera Nacional Pacifica Fernandez, sandwiches safely packed in the icebox, muffins freshly baked and hot cafe con leche safely in the thermos etcetera. Do not ask "120 whats", it is better that way.
I am happy to report I didn't sprain any joints multiple times this time, nor at all, nor was I the suspected quarry of overflowing turkey vultures like last time ; but every muscle in my body is thoroughly dead, including the ischiocavernosus, because I spent hours wave-jumping the world's most fucking beautiful surf. Waves three, four meters tall delicately coming down to wrap my earthly coil in foam, and to throw the girls off their feet and tumble them and turn them upside down and grind all butts into the eager sand. Quoth the vixtim, "My ass is thoroughly polished now, it is a gem."
'Twas a beautiful time ; then on the way back we ran into yet another Kike : Kike's Rest.
"Did you see that ?"
"Kike's Rest ?"
"I should have snapped a picture."
"Do you want me to turn around ?"
"Nah."
"You know, this is our turnabout mecca. Remember that night..."
"I ain't turning around for no kike."
These words were thus spoken, to which I duly attest!
We did however stop at the famed Fruteria Kike, where we bought fresh ripe mangoes. About forty kilograms of them. There's no mango like the Costa Rican fresh ripe mango, and yet they're a quarter a pound here, do you realise that ? Anyway, the smell of mango permeates my entire house now, and wait till the girls get around to starting the boiling!
But let's digress. Here's a spurious shot of me having apple feet :
Here's a strange item spotted a few days back with no further explanation available :
Shop suey fucks the cowboy leg! Don't sue any shops if ye know what's good for ye.
And in closing, steak. Because that's the only proper fucking closing. The victim here, three pounds of the most delicately mouth-melting flesh any herbivore ever produced for the enjoyment of man (and his women) :
Au pervoir!
« Boboban
Front Page Woman »
Category: La pas prin lume
Wednesday, 11 April, Year 10 d.Tr.
Idle inquiry...
Let's read some old musty letters :
I, therefore, as I feel now so ill and perpetual nervous distress, feel that perhaps I may be adding to yours by a silence which I have kept on John Ruskin's conduct to me ever since I left your care, although I have lately and on my last visit home shown you how very unhappy I was...
I have therefore simply to tell you that I do not think I am John Ruskin's wife at all -- and I entreat you to assist me to get released from the unnatural position in which I stand to him.
To go back to the day of my marriage I went as you know away to the Highlands. I had never been told the duties of married persons to each other and knew little or nothing about their relations in the closest union on earth. For days John talked about this relation to me but avowed no intention of making me his Wife. He alleged various reasons, hatred to children, religious motives, a desire to preserve my beauty, and finally this last year told me his true reason (and this to me is as villainous as all the rest) that he had imagined women were quite different to what he saw I was, and that the reason he did not make me his Wife was because he was disgusted with my person the first evening...
Then he said he would marry me when I was twenty five. This last year we spoke about it, I did say what I thought in May -- he then said as I professed quite a dislike to him it would be SINFUL to enter into such a connection, as if I was not very wicked I was at least insane and the responsibility that I might have children was too great, as I was quite unfit to bring them up. These are some of the facts. You may imagine what I have gone through -- besides all this the temptations his neglect threw in the way of me. If only he had been kind, I might have lived and died in my maiden state, but in addition to his brutality his leaving me on every occasion -- His threats for the future of a wish to break my spirit...
I don't think, poor creature, he knows anything about human creatures -- but he is so gifted otherwise and so cold at the same time that he never thinks of people's feelings and yet with his eloquence will always command admiration.
Says a pretty 20year old to her father.
I married like a fool, because a girl's face pleased me. She married me for my money, breaking her faith to a poor lover.
Says Ruskin (and further he says old George, the father in question, was bankrupt ; and other things).
All this is of little interest, the girl went on to marry some other guy ; the guy claimed "incurable impotence" and went on to not marry some nine year old girl who died of unclear causes (anorexia-heartburn-dementia-whatever) two decades lateri, whatever period nonsense.
The question however is, what did the pedophile find he didn't exactly expect ?
Was the adult woman's snatch too hairy ?! Too leaky ? Were her lips too large, was the pigmentation distressingly maroon ? Did she have a remarkably large clit ? Or maybe zits, unutterably purulent infections form the poor hygiene not inconceivable at a time (especially in a girl that "had never been told the duties of married persons to each other") ? What, what was it exactly ?
You have my ear, go ahead...
———The whole thing's featured massively in Nabokov's wankfest. [↩]
« Surprised By Joy -- The shape of my early life. Adnotated.
Say Mr... why is your name Popescu ? »
Category: Cuvinte Sfiinte
Friday, 07 September, Year 10 d.Tr.
How to satisfyingly have sex with a girl under 12
This is not discussed anywhere else -- obviously then it shall be discussed on Trilema, for what else is Trilema for ?i
Obviously something like "first, sharpen a machete, then, decapitate the victim like you're makin' pipa fria, then, fuck the exposed larynx/vulva substitute as per usual" could be proposed. Yet this root-of-consumerism TO-CE-HD behaviour does not count as "satisfying" in these partsii -- and if this strikes you as a novel idea, please stop to consider you're mostly missing out on that entire sex business.
As to the item under discussion, which is to say the female, it bears pointing out that her relevant apparatus is a complex affair with far reaching outputs belabouring under divers constraints. It is, for instance, almost universally unsafe for her to give birth under the age of 12iii ; but in an example of natural perversity (as there can be found many) it is almost universally the case she can enjoyiv (moderately vigorousv) copulation by that age. Modern science & progressvi would then permit you to fuck 12 year olds forthwith, but here we shall dig deeper still.
Sometime around her third birthdayvii the innervation of her vulva changes so that she can process as sexually enjoyable what prior would have been processed as simply painful, or even distressinglyviii painful. Once this occurs, your little sex toy becomes actually capable of sexual usage, through the very simple avenue of (delicate!) masturbationix.
Add to this that she was perfectly capable of delivering a handjob since just about the day she was born, not to mention a perfectly acceptable blowjob (if not necessarily fully engulfing) since that day around eighteen months or so when she learned how to handle her deciduous teeth, and you have together all the makings of a perfectly complete diet, through the following procedure : have the little girl suck you off, while you delicately masturbate her as she may be deserving, with whatever breaks and tone-downs as may be in the field necessary. Then, as she is about to come, prop your glans on the very back of her throat, so it cuts air supply through the deglutition reflexx. Let her orgasm dry, and try your best not to splooge down her glotis while she does writhes in the agony of it.
There you go, perfectly satisfying sex with little girls! The act itself, as described, is so perfectly adult as to be practiced by yours truly this very day, even if it does lack a name. What should it be called, by the way ? Lolita's blowjob, maybe, to follow the nominal tradition ?
In any case, in the hope that I've entertained and educated, I remain your truly single link to the really very scary. A bientot!
———And obviously it will then become, suddenly and unexplainably, a "native" topic of conversation ailleurs, specifically in such ESL ailleurs as may "coincidentally" but necessarily "forget" to mention where they even discovered this may be a topic of conversation in the first place. Oy vey... [↩]Similarily in this same vein, "monogamy" understood as keeping as single wife as opposed to keeping innumerable (strictly, as the status is never clear enough to permit numeration) slavegirls, as well as nonsense of this type (ie, "breaking up", as fucking if), are NOT satisfying. [↩]Which is why the cutoff was chosen in the title -- a categorical discussion on how to enjoy women whose normal function may actually work fine is not here deemed interesting under the expectation that you'll just pick a precocious 14 yo, some ratkin who's fully fledged at that age (yes, of course they do exist, how else do you imagine the race survived), do the deeds with her and thereby imagine yourself some kind of edgelord. No such thing happened -- the only reason you successfully copulated with a girl "under age" was that your particular girl was not actually underage, no more.
The "dispute" among irrelevant pretend-sovereigns rages as to which exactly is the age at which no female can be damaged through the procreation process, with some picking the biologically factual 16 and others the more "properly" hallucinatory 18 (powered by the evident observation that a 16 year old girl given a family might end up not giving the slightest shit about the Great Inca, o noes!), but these considerations barely qualify as a footnote of a footnote (in fact, they only qualify as a footnote here owing to the all-encompassing quality of Trilema, as far as history is concerned they will not be remembered). [↩]For the record, this paragraph in my discussion of Butterfield 8 references exactly that : one young woman's struggle to cope with the fact that while she thoroughly enjoyed being sexually used at the age in question, nevertheless "everyone else" "seems to think" it was VERY VERY BAD.
The plain statement of just how perfectly natural it is should save some souls that might otherwise "need" ourdemocracy medication. [↩]And with white men. [↩]Speaking of this "ourdemocracy" bullshit : how do these great democrats manage to not notice that gang rapes are universally enjoyable for a majority of the participants ? What, eminent domain only works when the nigger's stealing something ? [↩]I happen to sit, blessed dragon of pure energy, upon an immense trove of personal knowledge on the topic through the following fortuitous happenstance : when I was about four, I was out visiting some girl's place with my parents. While they did whatever dumb adultry they were wont to do (and I have exactly 0 expectation it was in any way even remotely sexual -- socialist adults are dumb like that), we were to somehow amuse ourselves in her room. Whereupon we found a "doctor" set, a bunch of plastic copies of medical instruments as they used to make for kids but perhaps no longer do.
It was immediately evident that she is to undress completely and I am to examine her -- understand that no conception of sexuality in any manner entered our heads. I hadn't, and I'm sure she hadn't, ever perceived human copulation to any degree, we had no adult model to guide us whatsoever. It was just obviously the thing to do in the manner dream logic is obvious, and no more. It was simply self-evident, notwithstanding that neither of us either had, or ever heard, of anyone getting undressed for some kind of medical visit -- they had quit doing that for decades by that point, specifically so as "not to insult" "natural" pudicity, which is to say for the retrospectively evident, necessarily unspeakable (but also evidently misconstrued) notion that it may be such practices that lead children to precocious cvasi-sexual behaviours. Turns out -- 'twas not.
Through this process of examination, guided as the good doctor is always guided by the feedback loop the patient patiently provides, it became clear she has a very sensitive spot in a certain area of her midsection, a spot that is to be lightly touched, but if it is... In adult terminology she had one orgasm after the other until so thoroughly exhausted as to be too weak to stand, but so thoroughly loved the experience that she organised "doctor visits" for all her friends and relatives of the proper sex and age range for the remainder of kindergarten.
This infantile medical practice of mine provided me (other than with the lack of any desire to "become a doctor" -- what become, bitch ?!) with a very keen understanding of the workings of the infantile vulva (you know that independently of excitation they do not secrete at that age ?), based upon such a statistical sample as to make the usual fare of Nature blush the reddest purple, and which I thoroughly still remember. Because, I guess, it struck me as important at the time, more so than other pearls coming later on the string.
Note that throughout I had no notion whatsoever that any of this applies to me, nor did it occur to any other participant that the item may be of any interest to boys! Moreover, and to put infantile sexualization in its proper context : at about this same time I went to a kindergarten where (most) kids had to sleep after noon, it had tiny little cots coming out of the walls for the purpose. My parents almost never left me there that late, but in the few occasions where they did, what we did was that we shared a bed! I'd raise my top clothes all the way around my neck, and lower all my rest all around the ankles, and the girl did the same, so it seemed, to the average adult, that undercovers all is well. Meanwhile we basked in the delicious intimacy of shared body heat, which we did regularily, and with great selectivity, and thoroughly enjoyed although at no point was this deemed or in any way represented as sexual! It had no connection, you see, in our infantile brain, with that other thing, the doctor's examination. None whatsoever. How can this be ? That's exactly how children think, the compartimentalization on the brain on which you rely to sell yourself on patent nonsense such as "specialization" is nothing more than neoteny, infantile nonsense rescued from its proper, biological death by the needs of your enemy. Your one and only enemy. [↩]Not all pain is similarily distressful, have you noticed ? In very young girls the distress/pain factor is a great predictor of whether they'll turn out sluts, which is to say cool women we like to hang out with, or insufferable pantsuits. The latter like to call themselves "very sensitive", but it is a misnomer, they were just highly distressable. [↩]Extremely useful to me in that day was an item from my Lego set, I distinctly recall its sharp carmine color even as I don't exactly recall its intended adult simulacring function -- was it a walkie talkie or some sort of gun ? In either case, it had a body, a handle to the side for the lego guys to hold it in their beak like arms, and a plastic falange extending a coupla centimeters from the body and terminating in a perfectly spherical, coupla milimeter across ball. That ball poked just right, it turns out! I suspect the reason is that the aforementioned change happens in the way river melting in the Siberian Spring happens, from the tips towards the trunk, and consequently large movement involving the whole clitoral body is still perceived as unpleasant even as delicate touch on the ends is not anymore.
Alternatively you could use a thick painter's brush or something, my research is a good three decades old by this point but perhaps the entreprising minds in the audience may contribute the latest discoveries. [↩]Like with everything else in satisfying sex, let this not be a surprise to her. Inform, and simulate, and take your time, eh ? [↩]
« The saddest person in the world.
And another day dawns, or Multipicture Megapost »
Category: Trilenciclopedia
Thursday, 18 January, Year 10 d.Tr.
How to remove USG.Alphabet (usually called "google" by the jews & pantsuit) from your web experience.
You may think that this is "easy" to do. It isn't, and there will be collateral damage, because for instance
Website using this ip : 216.58.217.100
fourcoffeebeans.com
google.com.jo
jyiwg888.com
feiche28.com
afe698.com
bta601.com
It's a spam farm, what. The fact that it serves a particular criminal gang as opposed to any other changes nothing of practical interest. Banning google means you'll be banning all sorts of "innocents" who "just wanted to" and so forth.
Fuck them ; and moving on :
$ curl -s http://download.maxmind.com/download/geoip/database/asnum/GeoIPASNum2.zip | gunzip | cut -d"," -f3 | sed 's/"//g' | sort -u | grep "oogle"
> AS15169 Google LLC
> AS16591 Google Fiber Inc.
> AS19527 Google LLC
> AS36040 Google LLC
> AS36384 Google LLC
> AS36385 Google LLC
> AS36492 Google
> AS394699 Google Access LLC
> AS395973 Google LLC
> AS41264 Google Switzerland GmbH
> AS43515 Google Ireland Limited
Now it's time to recursively
$ curl https://www.robtex.com/as/AS15169.html >> robtex.txt
for all those AS values discovered before, and then
$ cat robtex.txt | tr "\n" " " | sed 's%</table><h3>%\n%g' | awk '{print $1}' | sort -u | grep -E "\b([0-9]{1,3}\.){3}[0-9]{1,3}\b" > googips.txt
Consolidated, that yields 7990784 IPs in 78 disjunct network blocks :
8.6.48.0/21
8.8.4.0/24
8.8.8.0/24
8.15.202.0/24
8.34.208.0/20
8.35.192.0/20
12.216.80.0/24
23.236.48.0/20
23.251.128.0/19
23.255.128.0/17
35.184.0.0/13
45.56.0.0/18
45.121.228.0/22
64.9.224.0/19
64.15.112.0/20
64.18.0.0/20
64.233.160.0/19
66.102.0.0/20
66.249.64.0/19
70.32.128.0/19
72.14.192.0/18
74.114.24.0/21
74.125.0.0/16
89.207.224.0/21
99.198.128.0/17
103.62.64.0/22
103.86.148.0/24
104.132.0.0/14
104.154.0.0/15
104.196.0.0/14
104.237.160.0/19
107.167.160.0/19
107.178.192.0/18
107.188.128.0/17
108.59.80.0/20
108.170.192.0/18
108.177.0.0/17
113.197.104.0/22
130.211.0.0/16
136.22.0.0/23
136.22.64.0/18
136.22.129.0/24
136.32.0.0/11
142.250.0.0/15
146.148.0.0/17
159.192.27.0/24
162.216.148.0/22
162.222.176.0/21
172.102.8.0/21
172.110.32.0/21
172.217.0.0/16
172.253.0.0/16
173.194.0.0/16
173.255.112.0/20
185.25.28.0/22
185.150.148.0/22
192.104.160.0/23
192.119.16.0/20
192.158.28.0/22
192.178.0.0/15
192.200.224.0/19
193.200.222.0/24
194.122.80.0/22
199.36.152.0/22
199.192.112.0/22
199.223.232.0/21
207.223.160.0/20
208.65.152.0/22
208.68.108.0/22
208.81.188.0/22
208.117.224.0/19
209.85.128.0/17
209.107.176.0/20
216.21.160.0/20
216.58.192.0/19
216.73.80.0/20
216.239.32.0/19
216.252.220.0/22
Now we're ready to get rid of Alphabet, and permanently :
sudo iptables -A INPUT -s $evilempire -j DROP
and
sudo iptables -A OUTPUT -d $evilempire -j DROP
Here's a handy script to do it for you (and restart the network) : fuck-the-evil-empire.sh. Drop it in all your terminals today, and enjoy knowing that you're part of the solution rather than part of the problem, and that under your hand old women will be either useful or quiet.
PS. Bear in mind this minimal step towards a hygienic web (and therefore world) is no substitute for OpSec. It's entirely possible (and from experience, likely) they're snooping through IPs they don't advertise the ownership of.
« Kumho
Imaginary questions nobody asked of me, an incomplete compendium. »
Category: Meta psihoza
Monday, 25 June, Year 10 d.Tr.
How to piss me the fuck off -- a guide
I. Failure to discriminate. That's whenever you see different things as the same thing. You can bet your last dime that I'm sitting there in the darkness, sharpening a small throwing knife every single time you do it. And one day, "when you least expect it" as the moron expression goes, groundless as it is because you totally should fucking expect it, one day "as far away as possible" that blade will plunge into your soft tissue.
PS. I don't mind waiting.
II. Spurious discrimination. That'd be whenever you see the same thing as different things. It's a common mistake of children, imagining the flying bug and the resting bug are different items, or of very simple minded people, going into a room with an elephant and coming out with "contradictory" stories of legs and trunks and whatnot. This almost never pisses me off by itself, but I also tend to readily recognize it in practice and consequently treat the other party to a tall plate of derision. They generally react idiotically, which generally thickens the derision into disdain, and in short order forces them into I above. All in all, a situation best avoided (though slavery provides some healthy recovery mechanisms).
III. Dynamic blindness. When two objects correctly perceived also share a relationship that is not perceived. This is the general state of ignorance, and the trampoline starting most educative discussions in my harem. It doesn't piss me off noticeably, though there's a particular slide that works as follows : failure to perceive a relationship prompts me to introduce a different set of elements that find themselves in the same relationship, to instruct by comparison. If the other party further lacks familiarity with the other set, I'm going to try more and more sets until the set of usable sets is exhausted, at which point I will say something more or less in the vein of "well, you're too ignorant to be taught this right now", which butthurts the (extremely ambitious, by the way, let alone extremely intelligent) girls that kneel for me something fierce. Fortunately it can be overcome with training & experience, but it's always and evermore an obnoxious thing to hear, I'm told.
If on the other hand the other party shows familiarity with the other set but nevertheless also fails to perceive the relationship in question I'ma go into mental health diagnosis mode, which can be emotionally traumatic (in the sense that it universally is, for retards).
This whole thing wouldn't figure here at all, except that stung morons tend to go to I above, and then...
IV. Hallucination. When a relationship is perceived between two objects correctly perceived that I'm not aware of. This mode is first and foremost my mode of learning, "wait, that hottie in Bound is the sister of that other hottie in the Psycho remake ?!" but it's also the mode of coffin liners and assorted mystagogy. This mildly pisses me off if I discover myself trapped in the situation whereby I thought I was talking to another person, but the actual substance on the other end is more in the vein of Eliza, and the responses to my lines came not out of an interpretation of their meaning but out of internal processes fundamentally meaningless. Nevertheless, it is an intellectual sort of displeasure, and doesn't generally produce rage, at most can climb up to nausea.
I. though, that can produce fucking rage. So in practical terms : think that discrimination is your only ticket to survival, and understand that "we don't discriminate here" is how "here" gets the napalm treatment.
« MiniGame (S.MG), November 2018 Statement
The stupidity ratchet »
Category: Gandesc, deci gandesc
Saturday, 08 December, Year 10 d.Tr.
How to html math ?
It started as things start, and it continues as things continue :
X
M
=
(
k
2
M
+
k mod M
2
M
)
Now let's go through the principles.
1. The fractional line is not rendered as a character, chiefly because it is not one! The fractional line is instead rendered as a bottom border on the logical cell it margins, which is exactly what it is. Really, nobody thought of this before ? Why not ? Is it really not evident the fractional line is not part of the alphabet ?
2. Peculiar symbols, such as here the parens but in general anything else, integral signs, sigma, what have you can be made any fucking size you wish. Why not ?
3. The fractional line vertical alignment (where all the = and fraction lines line up) is handled via correct description of the height of cells.i Note in the code how the k mod M portion is slightly smaller (24 px) whereas the 2 it exponents is slightly larger (32px) yet nevertheless the cell they go into is 112 px tall. Because all the logical "high" cells have the same height and all the logical "low" cells have also the same height (here the same throughout but this is not necessary) therefore the borders align.
4. Items under the fractional line are floated to the top ; items over the fractional line are floated to the bottom. You know which these are, because they're the cells that had a border in the first place!
5. The exponentiation spatiation is produced the logical way -- by creating a set of four cells, and filling the top right and the bottom left. Because that's the convention of exponent notation, isn't it, exactly : "cut the zone in four spaces, write the base bottom left and the exponent top right". So then ?
6. Localized fractional arrangements work exactly like the general! Within the context of that one particular cell of interest, the whole orchestra can be reproduced verbatim and to identical results.
———There's a slight misalignment in naive equal-size approaches because the single cell operand ends up slightly higher than the double cell fraction. This is an inherent limit of the poor quality of html itself. It can be mitigated by numeric skullduggery, but never perfectly (as different browsers viewports etc) and so I opt not to bother. [↩]
« The stupidity ratchet
Post Malone »
Category: Meta psihoza
Tuesday, 11 December, Year 10 d.Tr.
How things have changed!
This is the first part of our article
asciilifeform: possibly this is the root of disagreement -- asciilifeform takes mircea_popescu's old warning of 'just say no to any dealings with the malignantly stupid poor'(tm)(r) to heart, doesn't deal with the '50%', doesn't need them for anything whatsoever
The bit he references is a 2012 piece, Strategic superiority, a saga. It says, specifically,
Honest toil not so much, but honest cunning aplenty in this fabled subsection of the population, the offensively stupid poor. The costs of the strategic mistake of dealing with them are huge.
Up until recently it was practically impossible to become embroiled into any sort of dealing with the subgroup, their ownership being strictly assumed and their lives strictly subsumed by the corporations competent at dealing with the human cattle : fastfood providers, supermarkets, the government. Both as employers and providers these specialised bureaucracies have the necessary tools, including cattle prods (or whatever they're called now, non-lethal something or the other) to correctly handle them. They have the chemicals, they've done the research, know the behavioural patterns, have the walls all built to obstruct vision, living arrangements all thought through and everything.
Bitcoin suddenly opened the gate. It is a poisonous offering. You are grossly unequipped to interact straight with the refuse of Western society. Accepting investors with fortunes under a million dollars or whatever the limit was placed for US citizens may make sense. Accepting investors with fortunes under any arbitrary value and simultaneously wits under any arbitrary threshold is not a sound business plan but a strategic mistake.
Six years ago that was even correct ; but meanwhile consider
The second part of our article
LordMPofTMSR 37M Master 1w Not even kidding.
lady_von_luft The subject line of your message got cut off so I have no idea what you were trying to say.i
LordMPofTMSR Sucks being on the phone, huh.ii
lady_von_luft 24F sub Yeah. So you gonna tell me what it said or what?
LordMPofTMSR Nah. It also functions as a test of intelligence (which you failed) and of personality (which you failed in spades). Get lost, seriously.
LordMPofTMSR 37M 18h Not even kidding. Master Not even kidding.
Brat_Alice 23F Brat That's a nice way to greet a stranger
LordMPofTMSR I agree.iii
Brat_Alice So tell me the truth, how many people did you send this cut and paste message to?
LordMPofTMSR Every single female under 25 with a coupla pics in their profile.
Brat_Alice Okay, thanks for your honesty U+1F602iv
Brat_Alice But you've made me feel very unspecial
LordMPofTMSR You are very unspecial.v
LordMPofTMSR 37M Master 1d Not even kidding.
LittleMissSwaney 21F sub OK well I can't read the full message that you've put because you've put a message in the subject box. Great work on that one. Funnily enough though I know exactly what it says because I have multiple friends that have received this exact same message from you. So how about you drop whatever it is that YOU'RE doing and get a personality instead of copy pasting it. Not even kidding.
LordMPofTMSR You don't understand how the world works. See, there's so many of you ~worthless kiddos about, the only possible approach is statistical. When given the opportunity to speak, most fail ineptly. Some fail spectacularly, such as for instance you. A precious few succeed. That's pretty much all it is.
In conclusion
I'll break a tail just for you and see what it has to say to us. Here :
$ wc -l res4.txt
256235 res4.txt
That is quarter million this month.vi
That's roughly speaking the amount of sea churning it takes to produce one maybe-usable candidate to slavery bootcamp. Just one.vii
The fixed costs of this are, for the record, negligible -- electricity is still 0.006 or so ECu per Jouleviii, and there's a whole lot of work modern machinery's willing to do to get that sweet, sweet, delicious Joule. Machinery which, by the way, can be had for just about the asking, amortisation of capital goods costs even less than what the juice costs.
This doesn't account for the human factor, of course, and this is where the article comes together : yes my time is extremely valuable, being as I am the only me aroundix. But the reason my time is valuable, and the proof that I am the only me around comes from the circumstance that I created this environment wherein conversion from taxpayer to slavegirl can happen. That is why, and that's how we know!
We don't just go about claiming things in this here Republic (because, again, we don't tend to trade position for process, in this here Republic) ; but instead we make pudding-proofs. In fact, this is as fine a definition of La Serenissima as any can ever be had : a never ending, ever interlocking succession of pudding-proofs!
And this is what has changed since 2012. It's not just and simply "times have changed, please upgrade". It's that in the intervening six years the Republic itself has grown, and developed.
In the intervening six years the Republic has reached heights of legal, technical and cultural sophistication unmatched abroad!
Consider the legal aspect :
mircea_popescu: http://btcbase.org/log/2018-07-20#1836840
Tuesday, 24 July, Year 10 d.Tr.
"How do you like being a twerking wigger slave on my internet lulzcow farm ?"
First, some raw material :
And now, explanations!
The article title is the exact question I asked one of the participants. Because she's white, see, and I had her twerki earlier and so it all makes sense. Doesn't it ? Cuz "wanna-be nigger" and also wiggling the butt ? No ? A well. Maybe this joke's not for you.
The rabbit schmuck is "a bit of a walking contradiction", fancy that wonder! Presumably because not as much spunk (let alone piss&vinegar) available as'd allow the straight emo claim, that "he's a walking contradiction". No, gotta buy insurance for getting out of bed in the morning. He's a bit of one, or in George's immortal keywords, "she can't accuse me of not being comfortable...". He's also "in a relationship" with some deeply ugly British rose. And he's also directly accessible via fetlife.com/Evildom (provided you fix your referrer string), because fetlife's ever so secure and things.
The obvious point of reference being, of course, "Must suck to be one of you "average guy with a great sense of humor" losers, seriously now". Because very little ever changes, with frogs and boys alike.
What can you do ?
———Here :
Me btw, are you still all horny and totally desperate to cum ?
slut lol it's all i can think about, all day.
Me cool.
Me ima go watch a movie.
Me meanwhile you stuff the balls up your cunt and go practice twerking. find some competent negro whores on youtube or whatever to follow.
The balls are ben-wa balls, of course. She took a good hour+ of that like the great sport that she is. Can you ? [↩]
« Fuck Argentina.
How things have changed! »
Category: Meta psihoza
Saturday, 21 July, Year 10 d.Tr.
How Anthony Kiedis killed Louise Ciccone
slut love american style. jokes my folks never told me.i
Me ty!
slut the former apparently a tv series
slut "anthology comedy"
Me heh
Me cheapest of the cheap fodder, below even talkshows
slut 8.8gb torrent, coupla seeders
Me i don't want it.
Me "The Odd Couple, formally titled onscreen Neil Simon'sii The Odd Couple, is an American television situation comedy broadcast from September 24, 1970, to March 7, 1975, on ABC. It stars Tony Randall as Felix Unger and Jack Klugman as Oscar Madison, and was the first of several sitcoms developed by Garry Marshall for Paramount Television."
Me idiots.
slut can you picture how much it sucks?
Me yes. this guy's bioiii single handedly killed a whole swathe of post-rock rock for me.
Me not just his stupid fucking band, but any kind of intellectual respectability mtv might've built for the crowd.
Me eg these days i find it quite fucking impossible to not see madonna as the bimbo sees her, though at some point i thought she was moderately cool. and i can't think red hot chilli peppers and not think omfg elevator music
Me though at some point...iv and so following.
slut no idea why your opinion of madonna dropped.
Me what's she done ? if i had to answer this q, what do i say ?
Me "she was in that thing with that schmuck i can't stand" ?
slut she's made like forty fucking albums is what she's done, and photobooks with black on white girl shots, and so forth.
slut for her entire life. for until they forcibly remove her from it.
slut and it still doesn't sound like shit after 40+ years
Me and married guy ritchie, right
slut so the fuck what, she married him when he was good, she divorced him when he sucked.
Me so is the idea like count ? aerosmith also made 40+ albums in 40+ years of heavy drug use. and i similarily thought a lot of them, coupla decades ago
slut count is part, not all, of it.
Me but i can't find much meaning in any of it, looking now.
slut aerosmith sold out to ben affleck bs
slut madonna did not.
Me it's just... wank. "love in an elevator, loving it up till it's going down" ?
slut so never listen to anything but bach again, what can i tell you.
Me i have this humongo library of lyrics in my head, and it's all fucking terrible.
Me all the madonna shots with naomi have to be re-shot. have you seen them ?!
slut i'm sure i have. why do they have to be re-shot?
Me what am i looking at here ?
Me is this an advertisement for polka dots ?
Me or for bovine males in the background ?
slut so never listen to anything but bach again, what can i tell you.
Me what THE FUCK is he wearing ?
Me i can't even disprove the notion that the "wtf, how did you get that, killed a cheetah ?" joke in road trip isn't a disparaging reference.
slut i sure hope there's no lingering typo in your gpg contracts article.
slut lest future you be all "eh wtf i can't be arsed to even like that guy anymore, wtf daughter"v
Me do you think the same applies ?
Me in fairness outtakes way the fuck better than the published material.
slut i think a complaint against a prop's style of underwear in a picture depicting madonna fucking around with naomi campbell published at a time when the pictures themselves and especially their interracial content was "problematic" etc is akin to being hung up on a typo, yes.
slut maybe he had a disapointing cock and she's sparing you.
Me but see, this is the problem with context dependency. i am not saying that ~shouldn't have been big in the 70s~. i am saying, now that the 70s are dead and dust, i find nothing left there.
Me i find ~plenty~ in the, eg, 1870s "mothercountry" impressionist paintingvi.
slut when's the last time you actually listened to madonna?
Me current or vintage you mean ?
slut either
Me pretty sure we did a very brief cameo during one of the music fuckarounds we did.
Me not sure that's much "listening".
Me but then -- i've become painfully unmusical lately.
slut ! = actually listened, eh
slut yeah
slut well so naturally then!
Me tried leonard cohen.
Me thought he was fucking great, historically
slut no, i agree with you there.
Me terrible.vii
slut he's got 5 - 10 actually great songs. rest of his catalogue is like the long hard discordant road he had to take to get to them.
Me yes but i'm saying, in my mind it's a huge trend. i look about at what i thought was a large thing, maybe attackable in parts, but standing in general. like a bridge span,
Me "oh this brick's broken here". sure, it is. but the arch stands
Me i look back and i can't recognize any arch.
Me this was a big fucking deal. possibly only item that wouldn't need re-shooting, except for the part where it apparently disappeared.viii
slut well you may have actually looked back in cohen's case, but in the rest?
Me i tried to listen to various rest. iron maiden. aerosmith.
Me all sorts. they sound dumb.
slut why'd you listen to "love in an elevator" to look back at aerosmith? it's dream on, or crazy, for that, obviously.
Me for whom ?
Me fucking crazy. spurious bs. yes i get it, madonna-lite silverstone ass in teen breeches. w/e.ix
slut iron maiden's dreamchildx still sounded great the other day when you played it.
slut and i propose there is no "for whom", it's objective
Me well for me, elevator'd be the thing to look at.
slut there could be some b-side that you liked because i dunno, it hit the spot this one time in the car or whatever. but obviously that's fleeting.
slut there are objective besties.
Me because 25 years ago, it was the item that made me think, "hey, maybe these doods have more to say than meets the eye ?".
Me which i suspect is the original promise of music, "there's an enchanted land past the rainbow, alice."xi
slut i dunno. the bands i loved when i was a teenager i love still, even if i like whatever they made afterwards less. smashing pumpkins being a great example, i can't really even listen to whatever they've been doing for the past ten years, but the bridges are still very much intact.
Me but yes, dreamchild still sounded great, musically.
Me sort of thing makes one want a better sound system. which ~never happens to me as it is.
slut and i guarantee you "justify my love" and "lucky star" etc still sound great musically.
Me she was a pop shit, never had ~great musically~. was all image.
Me remember that stupid film with the blond "photographer" kid in london ?
slut unfortunately.
Me that's the madonna milieu. a sorta kinda wanna-be aristocracy of the early postmodern.xii
slut but i protest that she never had great musically.
Me i guarantee you that film'd have been the peak of cool in... 1990s ro.xiii but, today, it's just more beta wankage.
slut she was in that niche to be sure, but she actually sounded great.
Me lucky star ? srsly ?
slut yes
Me whole thing's a jew harp part time.xiv
Me of course, if it's not obvious, im not proposing anything hence is anywhere near. no fucking way. what, peyonce and bink and whatnot ? noty.
Me however, it's almost like a plane leaving -- yes the airport tower is closer than the hotel. but... what airport tower ?! where, down there ?!
slut so you don't like new wave, swap lucky star for bedtime story
Me why not sabrina then!xv
slut i could grant this argument all day long if you'd steeped in the actual product for a while but i'm telling you, absent the medium it's going to suck, necessarily.
Me srsly. it's a house beat. what's this, if not autotune ?
slut i can hear that. you're listening to a remix.
slut so yes.
Me jew. harp. part. time!
Me afaik it was a "departure from her r&b" bs, ie, THIS is what it was. madonna electronica.
slut are you really going to make me pull out like a virgin?
Me ie, her... first album ? yea ok. she was a promising 19yo.xvi
Me or wait, did she have a "madonna" album before that, like all the noobs ?
slut i dunno, not like i'm a madonna expert!
Me i'm telling you, she fucking ~ended cca 1992. and the highlights are dick tracy, that virgin album, the naomi pics and a come-back-from-retirement-to-lol-at-self vogue thing
Me and none of these can be defended. or if they can -- i don't know how.
Me "Throughout its run, The Odd Couple was juggled around ABC's programming schedule. The show struggled in the Nielsen ratings and was canceled at the end of every season. However, ABC renewed the show for each upcoming season because the ratings for the summer reruns were high."
Sunday, 07 October, Year 10 d.Tr.
Hey, women! Did you know that before the Pantsuited Hilarity gave you your civil rights, you were living in slavery ?
Me What's "the big town" nearby ?
Her Pullman has Washington State University. It's a little bit bigger, but since I've moved here, I've only been up to Spokane once. I've been to Boise, about 6 hours south pretty often though.
Me Ever go to Seattle ? Or Portland ?
Her I lived not far from Seattle in elementary school. I loved it. If I was to move around in the states again, I'd go there. Portland though, I can't remember the last time I'd gone. A loooong time ago though, I'm sure.
Me So, have you ever eaten in a restaurant ? I don't mean a sysco joint, TGI Tuesdays w/e. I mean a proper restaurant.
Her No time recently. I'll take myself out for gyros, sometimes. But it's a little hole in the wall sir.
Me I'm quite the pompous asshole, I go to $100 a steak places and whatnot.
Her What kind of steak costs 100 bucks a pop sir?!
Me A good one.
Her Kobe beef crusted in gold leif?
Me Lol.
Her You're sitting there thinking about all the things you've eaten that were covered in gold, arent you?
Me Actually, I'm quite curious what'll happen when I have them set a proper Porterhouse before you. I guess we're going. log/2018-01-16
Sunday, 28 January, Year 10 d.Tr.
Here's what hasn't changed
From: kibo@world.std.com (James "Kibo" Parry)
Subject: "Rona Jaffe's Mazes & Monsters"
Battlestar-Galactica-Date: 8121 centons, 98 microns, 0.003 abians
My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium
Organization: Stately Kibo Manor
So, am I the only one here who has seen this fine movie over one hundred times?
In one day?
And am I the only one here who likes to make believe he's Tom Hanks making believe he's Robbie making believe he's Pardu for weeks on end?
I am looking for people who are pretending to be the other three actors in "Rona Jaffe's Mazes & Monsters" so that we can play a game of Kibo's "Rona Jaffe's Mazes & Monsters".
Requirements are:
The three people must be unable to figure out that, in New York City, "The Two Towers" refers to the World Trade Center.
There has to be one guy who has a 190 I.Q. (verified by his mother, who decorates his room in solid white) and has a different funny hat in every scene to show that he's an eccentric genius just like Chuck Barris. Also he has to celebrate Brigette Bardot's birthday and go to Halloween parties dressed like Noel Coward just in case we don't already know that there's no difference between having a 190 I.Q. and being gay. Don't forget to have a "Casablanca" poster.
There has to be a young woman who wants to be a writer but has writer's block due to a lack of life experience.
And the other guy has to be the really good-looking, smart, well-liked, normal person nobody would possibly expect to go out of his way to play a stupid board game that makes you go permanently insane.
Oh, and someone has to bring a badly-dubbed talking bird that can dispense plot points repeatedly while we're ignoring it.
Anyway, I'm going to go wander around wailing "I THINK I KILLED SOMEBODY! WHY CAN'T I REMEMBER!" in Tom Hanks's voice until Lenny and Squiggy start chasing me around to steal my bag of spells and I run away from them like a big sissy who would grow up to play Forrest Gump running away from people like a big sissy.
Remember, if they catch us sneaking into Pequod Caverns, we'll be expelled!
-- K.
Also my favorite scene is where the
Jack Webb-like detective intones seriously,
"Mazes & Monsters is a 'far-out' game."
~ * ~
From: kibo@world.std.com (James "Kibo" Parry)
Subject: "Rona Jaffe's Mazes & Monsters" 2000
Battlestar-Galactica-Date: 8121 centons, 98 microns, 0.003 abiansi
My-Headers-No-Longer-Mention: Archimedes Plutonium
Organization: Stately Kibo Manor
I would just like to point out that I am the only person on the Internet who has figured out why "Rona Jaffe's Mazes & Monsters" is stupid.
But I haven't been able to segue into it because nobody posted any followups to my "Mazes & Monsters" article which were as BRAINY as my original, so I'm just going to start from scratch and say it here and yet you bask in the reflected glory of this post which is not a followup to any of you people.
Okay, here's my revelation.
Ready?
The movie's premise is that if you play a game where you pretend to be other people, because you're not good at pretending to be other people you'll base your game character's exploits on your real life, and this will blur the distinction between reality and fantasy, and you'll think you're playing Dungeons & Dragons in real life and go permanently insane and kill Lenny or Squiggy and then jump off the World Trade Center after strolling onto the roof through the locked door which you opened with one of your imaginary spells.
Now, the problem is...
Tom Hanks spent the entire shooting schedule of the movie PRETENDING TO BE A GUY WHO'S INSANE!!!
This means that if the "Dungeons & Dragons causes permanent total insanity because it involves pretending" theory is true, then Tom Hanks is now permanently insane, and indeed, all other actors are suffering permanent brain damage as we speak! James Earl Jones thinks he's Darth Vader! David Prowse also thinks he's Darth Vader! William Daniels thinks he's KITT! The guy who plays Barney thinks he wuvs you! Lucille Ball thinks she's an idiot! Joe Piscopo thinks he's a movie star!
Ha! I have destroyed Rona Jaffe's whole movie. I demand the Academy strike the movie's Best Picture Oscar from the records.
ALSO, NOW I DESERVE THE NOBEL PRIZE FOR DUNGEONS & DRAGONS!
-- K.
I want to know why characters in D&D
can't skip Experience Level 13
the way my building's elevator does.
(And I'm glad it does, because the
Secret Floor holds an evil ventrilo-
quist dummy that shoots tranquilizer
darts from its eye socket.)
Yeah, that's right : kibo's still better than whatever inane shit youii're spweing out, and you've had twenty years to do it.
What now ?
Shut down reddit and go read the originals, I guess, while they're still around. And remember : you've spent twenty years not producing any content, because what you produce is shit. Because you're shit.
And I hate you.
———Apparently he was too thick to have this auto-calculated on the basis of the system clock, like the d. Tr. thing works, because there's about a day ellapsed between these two. [↩]I'm not just looking at tards like Justin "I don't need words or manhood anymore, I'll just be a chick and chant" Hall or Charles "y'all bigots aite" Johnson. I am actually looking at you, the Times "man of the year" you. [↩]
« Here's what changed
Three on a match »
Category: Meta psihoza
Sunday, 01 April, Year 10 d.Tr.
Here's something you probably see more often than there's any need to
How about you drop whatever it is you're doing and dedicate your life to serving me ?
LordMPofTMSR Not even kidding.
sluti Mmmmmm, very tempting offer, my Lord. Respectfully, may I have
more specifics as to what seving you entails, Sir?
LordMPofTMSR Well at first you'd come over for a coupla weeks, see how well we fit. Have you ever visited Costa Rica ?
slut No, Sir, I haven't yet but I do happen to have a two year old
whom I can't leave for too long at a time. But I am definitely
in favor of seeing how we click, I've been needing a truly dominant master!
Do you allow your slaves to walk around nude in your presence, my Lord?
LordMPofTMSR I actually require them to. Here, have a sampler : trilema.com/meet-miss-piggy and I guess trilema.com/best-in-the-world.
The problem is that your already having a child strictly precludes your participation in any such relationship as is here contemplated.
slut I'm sorry, Sir
Women, and that boundless burden of theirs.
What can you do ?
And no, pretending like it ain't so doesn't do anything.
———21F. [↩]
« Here's something you don't see nearly often enough
Do you know what an unicorn is ? »
Category: Gandesc, deci gandesc
Monday, 12 November, Year 10 d.Tr.
Here's something you don't see nearly often enough
How about you drop whatever it is you're doing and dedicate your life to serving me ?
LordMPofTMSR Not even kidding.
Hodgojr94i How about Try being a gentleman
LordMPofTMSR Why would I empower your delusions of control ? Out of the fucking question, eh ?
Hodgojr94 because control is earned.
It's a privilege not a right. Pull your head out your ass.
LordMPofTMSR Earned my foot. Think for a minute, who the fuck would it be earned ~from~ii ?
Subbies earn. Earners are subbies. That's the whole story, now stop pestering me with your inept nonsense.
Hodgojr94 Wow. Grew up with a silver spoon hey. Got everything you
ever wanted now think you own everybody?! You're disgusting.
LordMPofTMSR You seem to be trying to imply my getting everything I ever want is some kind of coincidence or something. Let me disabuse you of that silly notion : it is the very substance of the world.
Some people, are, fundamentally, intractably and beyond human agency better than others.
I am one such, if any others do indeed exist, because ~that is what I am~. Your existence, such as you perceive it, is a minimal side effect of the foregoing, nothing more than that. In the strictest of senses : your perception of your own existence is merely the shimmering, distant reflection of a coupling between the world and me, that is in itself self-sufficient and has entirely no need of you.
In simpler terms : it is my world. You just live here.
Nobility, amirite ? It is a state of mind.
———23F sub, whatever. [↩]And yes, my arrangements, domestic and otherwise very much exist so as to diminish, not merely the reach of alternative pantsuitism in the world, but outright their theoretical possibility as a matter conceptual.
And no, Bitcoin is still not for you. [↩]
« Actual anthropology, yet another minor function of the functioning harem.
Here's something you probably see more often than there's any need to »
Category: Gandesc, deci gandesc
Sunday, 11 November, Year 10 d.Tr.
Here's how pantsuitism / christianity ruined civilisation, in both the Ancient and the Modern world.
Oh, you read a bunch of dreck about how christianity is fundamental to and stands at the basis of European civilisation ? And you ended up believing it, in the usual unexamined way you end up believing this kind of thing, have you ? Because "why not", right, "it was in the newspaper" ?
Well, bully for you, but it's nonsense nevertheless -- exactly, but I mean exactly the sheer and unmitigated, self-serving and offensive sort of bullshit the pantsuit can be relied on to come up with.
Consider the case of the Ancient world. The whole item, both Republic and Empire, ultimately rested upon the Roman legion. The Roman legion was, at its core, a large proportioni of crawliesii doing a hard jobiii. As the Roman world (correctly) believed in regressive taxation -- as a principle, not merely as an accounting fiction -- the hardest work was systematically piled up on the weakest members, until they either stopped being weakest or fucking died already. This is the correct way to do things, even if it also happens to be the only way to do things.
For a long timeiv this extra burden was applied upon the weak correctly -- which is to say spitefully, and derisively. It carried, plainly and explicitly, like contundent spikes on its cannonball surface, the disdain and the prejudice that must always be the lot in life for the inferior, for the insufficient, for the Eric Arthur Blairs and other bedwetters of this world.
Then the rot of christianity/pantsuitismv infected the Roman empire, and the result, the only important result, was that the drill sargeant of the legion felt ill at ease making it plain to the insufficient grunt. It could no longer be said, the bedwetter could no longer have his snotty nose rubbed in the stale, acrid product of his insufficiency, with excessive insistence and long after he had ceased producing it. The christian-pantsuit word for it was superby-arrogance (you see how little ever changes for the idiots ?), and a big nono, because "who's to say who's better than who", after all "we're all the dumb sons of the same father"vi bla bla.
Absent that seemingly "not needed" but in fact fundamental buttressvii, it became impossible for the elite kids in the century to distinguish hard work from the sign of personal inadequacy! Because if everyone has to do the hard work of walking under load, and digging up forts and standing guard and all the rest of the sweat in "war is won by the spade" except some get double time and a heapful of scorn on top it's one thing ; but if the scorn isn't there... well ? It's just what happens if you suck, right ? And the correct thing to do would be to... try and avoid it altogether, yes ?
In short order things degraded to
From the foundation of the city till the reign of the Emperor Gratian, the foot wore cuirasses and helmets. But negligence and sloth having by degrees introduced a total relaxation of discipline, the soldiers began to think their armor too heavy, as they seldom put it on. They first requested leave from the Emperor to lay aside the cuirass and afterwards the helmet. In consequence of this, our troops in their engagements with the Goths were often overwhelmed with their showers of arrows. Nor was the necessity of obliging the infantry to resume their cuirasses and helmets discovered, notwithstanding such repeated defeats, which brought on the destruction of so many great cities. Troops, defenseless and exposed to all the weapons of the enemy, are more disposed to fly than fight. What can be expected from a foot-archer without cuirass or helmet, who cannot hold at once his bow and shield; or from the ensigns whose bodies are naked, and who cannot at the same time carry a shield and the colors? The foot soldier finds the weight of a cuirass and even of a helmet intolerable. This is because he is so seldom exercised and rarely puts them on.
The reason it so decayed is that if the not-inferior kids in the century have no practical way to distinguish the inferiority of the inferior, they will simply allot it to "having to do work", and start skirting doing work, and in short order all the gold in the world can't produce you a legion of men that can stand up for half hour's drill.
Consider the case of the Modern world. I'll pass in silence over obvious examples available in the same vein, and instead limit myself to pointing out that as the publican lobbyviii permitted itself to be replaced by the pulpit lobbyix in the United States, the self-same United States went from Republic to shit. That "corruption" that "good men" (ie, officiously intermeddling old fucks and the dumb goose-women loudly flocking around them) "fought" happened to be the only pillar holding up the entire mess in the first place!
So no, "judeo-christian ideas" are no kind of solid foundation -- not for anything. The only thing they promise, indeed virtually guarantee, is the shocking, absurd and "inexplicable" demise of whatever they end up admixed into, much like the proverbial drop of sewage ruining otherwise fine barrels of old wine. Be it in the form of young female "modesty", or adult female "chastity", or business "legality" or whatever shape or form it may take -- "judeo-christian" gargle is always a standby for idiocy and naught else. Cancer, properly speaking, in that it will destroy you silently and you won't even know what hit you when it finally does -- as it always does : painfully -- hit you.
I hope we understand each other.
———There's a huge difference between "get me ten good men" and "get me ten percent good men" -- the former can be bruteforced in a way the latter can't be. Because of peculiar properties of perl byproducts distributions, how large a proportion is being contemplated actually matters a lot more than how high a standard is being imposed -- meaning that it's a lot easier to get one guy to run a minute mile than to get one percent of all the guys to run a mile at all. [↩]Things that came out of the perl mechanism : somewhere on the HeLa (also known as "African-American" in modern parlance) to Human (sometimes called "white" or "European", to somehow betoken its unassailable superiority) continuum. [↩]The job was, approximately, "walk twenty miles each day carrying twenty kilograms' worth of gear". I know it doesn't "sound like much", but then again I know you've never done a stitch of honest work in your life, certainly not in the proper sense of that term. [↩]It was said on Trilema,
Italienii, urmasii nevolnici ai unui popor viteaz si hotarat (va vine a crede ca oamenii astia ce n-au castigat un razboi de trei sute de ani nu pierdusera unul in trei sute de ani la un moment dat ?)
which in English comes to
The Italians, the worthless descendents of a courageous and decisive people (can you believe that these dweebs that haven't won a war in three centuries actually hadn't lost one in some different three centuries ?)
There was such a long time ; Italy wasn't always that joke of a wet noodle "country" that spent the 40s getting its ass handed to it by the fucking Greeks. "La meglio' gioventu" my left fucking foot! -- as Pasolini correctly intuits, the only place that shamelessly shameful song belongs is in a rape-brothel. [↩]The two are neither distinct nor distinguishable. [↩]This is why "racism" (peculiarly understood as any challenge to the single-father mental model) is such a paramount topic for the pantsuit (and for no one else) : "we" better all be sons of the same father, or else! [↩]It always works like this, you understand ? Indians selling their land for the beads imagine they're giving away something "not needed" too! And so do all the other indians in turn! [↩]At a point (back when there was still hope for America), the country was run from the bars, by the people running the bars. [↩]The concern trolls personified by say Dilworthy (who, amusingly, gets out-dilworthied by a dood called "Noble", because no, the pantsuit treadmill isn't in any sense new, it's part and parcel of the pantsuit trade). [↩]
« The "Rivers of Blood" article, or -- The Lordship list, fifth year.
The problem with christians »
Category: Cocietate si Sultura
Thursday, 01 March, Year 10 d.Tr.
Have you ever paid for sex ?!
Girly asked me this, you know, we were hanging out and she was trying to make conversation (which isn't so easy, you realise -- gotta say something, but what ?!) and "get to know each other better" and such delightful avatars of youth.
To her, evidently, the question carried some kind of meaning, and with that the possibility of being answered. It's a commonplace of pre-pantsutiani US discourse, you realise. It's a thing, there, like "are you racist" or "rape" etcetera.
The discussion went rapidly nowhere, over my dissolution of her unexamined categories. I paid girls to fuck on camera, does that count ? If you take a girl for a fuck to a bed you own in a room you own in a building you own in a town you own is this paying for sex ? I mean, it costs more than if you lived in the forrest and did it in the bushes, rite ? What if you tore her stockings and you buy her new ones ? If you didn't fuck you'd not have tore 'em, right ? What if you don't like the stockings she has on, and much prefer the ones in the window ? What if you make the girl strip naked as her mother brought her to this world in the middle of a gents' shoe store, all leather and oak panelling, that also sells stockings, because you're considering buying her a pair and want to see how they look on her first ? If you do buy the pair, have you paid for sex ? Whose, yours or the present gents' wives' that evening ?
We went on to talk of other things, but still in this same manner, of her trying and getting humiliated for the attempt. Then we ended up back at her cage, wherein I fucked her in the ass. This activity is pure torture (for her, I'm enjoying it, myself) : I say "bend over", and the next frame I'm stretching her painfully while she's trying to repress her squeals, and then it's pumping all the way homeii. Just like that, off from the street -- heck, for all she knows she's gonna have to do it in the street, next (and she will, too).
I don't mean she isn't enjoying it, necessarily. I'm sure she is. But it's an intellectual rather than a sensual enjoyment, she enjoys being hurt by me, and serving me. She enjoys it like she enjoys hearing "that's a good girl", not like she enjoys the mango icecream we make. Not that there's anything wrong with that!
After I was done, I fished out a bill from my wad -- with a gesture routine'd enough to suggest that perhaps it's not my first time. How the fuck is anything going to be my first time, I've been around for a long, long time and in the end isn't this the fucking point of life ? Trying things ? Anyway, it was a carmine red thousand colones bill, almost two dollars (though not really).
I gave it to her and I told her to buy herself something nice for it. She has no money, you realise, this girl. She's not seen as much as a paper dollar in weeks now, except for the ones in my hand. Then, with a smile, I added "See ? I pay for sex all the time!". I won't go into the layered cake of lolz referenced here, because everyone who socially interacted with her slavery immediately went to a mental space of money and contracts and we had a lot of fun deconstructing all that over the... well, scant few weeks we've known each other. But anyways!
A few days later I had her meet me walking (fabulous walks in Costa Rica, as the man said, "de lo que mis senderos son capaces, solo lo se yo ; quales los igualen, habra ; quales los exceda -- jamas!") and she showed up at the expected time past the expected bend, holding two... coconuts. Pipa fria, in local parlance, put the line in the coconut...
Anyway, 400 colones each. Girl's bought herself something nice for the hardwon-est thousand colones known to this land. That it coincidentally provided succor, delicious cool hydration on a dusty trail, for the most humble author, yours truly I... well, let's call that a coincidental benefit.
The sort of coincidental benefit everything's always about. Now tell me... why is it you don't pay for sex ?
———People don't simply wake up pantsuit. First they have to spend a while in the holding pens with nothing to do, and practice "handshakes" as if that's a legitimate activity of human adults, and discuss "their feelings" as if such matter. "How do you feel", are "transsexuals" really what they want to be or really what they were born to be ? "Oh Joe, I don't knoe, but the vague cloud of progressive nonsense I seem to have absorbed from no particular relationship to the elders and no particular insistence upon the books would seem to dictate that freedom means people get to be what they say not what they are!" "So you ever heard of chromosomes ?" "Nope, not really."
You gotta spend a lot of time in the idle, bitter far'niente of the marketing-driven welfare state, before you start having the sort of problems pantsuit have. [↩]In fairness, somethimes I don't manage to tear her seal on the first try, and then it's "here, suck on this [cock that was just in your ass], make it big and strong so it hurts you". And she does. Of course she does. What would you do ? [↩]
« This is not BDSM.
Qntra (S.QNTR) September 2018 Statement »
Category: Zsilnic
Wednesday, 03 October, Year 10 d.Tr.
Happy Mew Year's!
Sooo.... spent the New Year's over at the little secret beach, practically nobody there but us.
Fired the smaller rocketsi in between cakes, coffees, drinks and walks in the wake, with some incident (still not entirely clear why, but one of them decided to go curly and fucking bombard us, ended up blowing up literally two meters over my head sending incandescent metal debris everywhere around except nowhere anything sensitive stood) ; then once the bottle was emptyii tried to use it as a launchpad for the submarine sinker depicted above -- a whole pound of gunpowder if it was an ounce. I still have the fuse cap -- it's big enough to feel like a roadcone when going up that daintiest of a girl's holes, from what I hear.
Anyway, I abandoned that idea as the whole arrangement seemed suspiciously unsteady, and instead fired it as god intended, from the hand. The stick is long enough you actually need an artificing assistant, but eventually we got it going. I shot it very low, so it exploded right over the ocean lighting it up beautifully.
There were also blowjobs ; and reminescings. It turns out that with the possible exception of that one time I took the girls into the postapocalyptic bare concrete of the-secret-floor-under-the-garage-where-mysterious-machineries-are, this was the best New Year party ever.
Cheers!
———Depicted in the mantling of The Most Chauvinist Serene Order Of The Holes Gloriouses escutcheon (or at least I think that'd be the mantling). [↩]For some reason Veuve Cliquot (a good French wine) says Rich in red all over the label, don't look at me, I didn't come up with it. [↩]
« Messy
In which Naranjo is a place and other things »
Category: Zsilnic
Tuesday, 02 January, Year 10 d.Tr.
Getting your messages out of the shitpile called Fetlife.
This is a set of bash hacks allowing you to extract your inbox out of the clutches of the [current form] of Fetlife's horrifyingly ugly & utterly dysfunctional GUI.
It was made necessary by continual "improvements" (in the soviet sense of that term) the brigade of imbeciles in charge keep laying upon the (already miserable) Fetlife UX. These seem to occur every two to six weeks or so, and thoroughly break everything for no conceivable reason (though I suspect the whole carousel may be justified by the needs of the optic nerve of the cluckers -- if they grow familiar with a layout this raises $The_BAD signal in their peabrains, and well...)
First off, let's dump the whole inbox as-is.
for (( i=1; i convos.txt
>99% space saved thereby, you know ? Just sayin'.
Anyway, let's dump all the convos, as-they-are.
cat convos.txt | while read line; do curl -m 20 -k -A "Mozilla/5.0 (Windows NT 10.0; Win64; x64) AppleWebKit/537.36 (KHTML, like Gecko) Chrome/63.0.3239.132 Safari/537.36" --cookie "_fl_sessionid=???? ;guest_id=???? ;remember_user_token=???? ;language=en;_Fetlife_continuous_perving=on" --referer "https://fetlife.com/users/????" "$line/responsive#newest_message" >> convodump.html; sleep 2iii; done
Finally, let's reconstruct actual convos from that messy ball of yarn.
cat convodump.html | triv '\n' 'x' | sedv -e 's/]*>/kq/g' | sedvi -e 's/Mailkqkqkqkqkqkqkqkqkqkqkqkqkq/\n/g' | sedvii -e 's/enterkqkqorkqkqkqkqSay/\n/g' | sed -e "s/You can't respond to this conversation because/---=== blocked ===---\n/g" | sed -e 's/kqkqkqkqkqActionskqkqkqkqx/\n/g' | grepviii "^x kqkqxkqxkqkqkq" | sedix 's/ is typing... kqkqkqkqkqxkqkqkqkqkqkqkqctrl + /\n---===---\n/g' | sedx 's%kqkqkqkqkq%\n%g' | sedxi 's%kq% %g' | sed 's/ / /g' | sedxii 's/x x x /Subject: /g' | sedxiii 's/ x/\n/g' > convodump.txt
From now on I'm gonna call the work product of "web programmers" kqkqkqkq, in loving memory of ye olde barbarbar. Because that's what it fucking is, what!
Anyway, the crop delivered in convodump.txt is mostly readable ; there's some cruft left over and various beautifications are omittedxiv but at least it fits on MS-DOS hard-drivesxv and is amenable to human tools, you know ?
PS. My pile is over 1mn words, if you're curious (which I suspect you are). It includes such gems asxvi
thats awesome!! i need some coffee right about now lol and thank you for not linking me to a dick pic XD ibve had horrid luck with guys in this community lately
Do you understand what I'm saying ?
———This is a magic number ; to obtain it simply futz around on the site with https://fetlife.com/inbox?page=xx urls until you find the highest one that still lists something. Sorry, too lazy to elegantify this pile. [↩]You'll have to replace these with your own cookies, obviously. [↩]Probably being overnice, but whatever, I needed some time to type out this thing. [↩]Ditch the linebreaks originally provided, they're meaningless. [↩]Ditch the html tags originally provided, they're useless.
Are you seeing a pattern here ? Because I would dare propose that by the time the formatting provided, both in the form of the traditional text notation and in the form of the advanced "hypertext" notation are items "better lost than found" some fundamental failure is occuring. If the soldier had to discard his weapon and his rations, and find something else to use on his own we'd say army supply is failing the rank and file. If a library contained neither the physical objects known as books nor any kind of meaningful concatenations of strings we'd say it fails at being a library. What kind of memory hole do you need in order misrepresent the Marc&Paul shitpiles as websites ? [↩]We've identified the proper sequence initiatior. [↩]There's no proper sequence ender. This and the two next can end blocks, and perhaps there's more not yet encountered! Don't you just love approximative programming ? [↩]Remove all crud. [↩]Create the block separators (except for the case where we were blocked, that's created as part of handling that special case). [↩]Create adequate newlines. [↩]Fix some random bits of strange, this and next pass. [↩]Add label per block. [↩]Reconstruct the line structure of the original messages ; I hesitated to actually do this, because normies don't understand flow. [↩]Obviously enough one could linkify the names ; download and include user icons ; format the whole thing, perhaps as a html table ; and so on. [↩]No joke, the bulkiest file (convodump.html in this naming convention) threatened the 1GB mark! [↩]For gemology even-ness considerations :
You must be kidding because that is the MOST PATHETIC THING I have heard. Who the FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? WHAT MAKES DO FUCKING SPECIAL? When you find your dick let me know because you are THE BIGGEST FUCKING PUSSY IN THE WORLD. Grow the fuck up, man the fuck and talk to a real fucking lady like your fathers Mistress.
Angry little dishwasher, ain't she. [↩]
« Wood impregnated in oil, a metaphor.
The deathstar touched me on the dolly. »
Category: Meta psihoza
Friday, 22 June, Year 10 d.Tr.
Gay Bullshit : Matador, Laberinto de pasiones & Ley del deseo
They're all three "guion y direccion Pablo Almodovar" from his early period, back before we fixed sex. Back when he still sucked. Back in the 80s, the years de mierda.
They're all depicting a derpy if untalented twink you might know as the "sex symbol" Antonio Banderas. Because that's the sort of utterly ignare nobodies you are, picking your food off the dirty flooring of obscure porn industries.
They're all meani to a staggering, shocking degree, production values unseen in the cheapest pornos are a bridge too far for early Almodovar.
They're all utterly unwatchable.
They're all nonsensical, poorly written, worse acted, miserable miseries with no head or tail or much in betweenii, completely bereft of redeeming features whatsoever.
They're what exploitative attempts at cultural appropriation would look like if, instead of being driven by commercial interest and all the intelligence that usually chases money, they were driven by simple, decerebrated stupidity. Unreflective, structurally incapable of meaning, Almodovar's productions are cinematographic smegma -- it's not impossible for someone to like them, but such a circumstance would be descriptive of the liker's psychopathologies and not much more besides.
That's it.
———In the proper sense of that term : "of the common man, typical for the common man". Like poverty, like "cleverness" aka sheer stupidity, like body odour. Like something from Balzac, mean as opposed to grand. [↩]Occasional tidbits, such as the overcontrolling, overcatholic mother ; or such as the girl that refuses to file rape charges because the guy didn't even manage, but merely tried (came in between her legs, she says) and who the hell cares anyway, it's like the third time this year (her mother, present and aware, comments that "this isn't a plate of choice") ; or such as the little girl that confesses her love for the married, adult neighbour to her mother, who has no problem speaking of it to the neighbour in question, to the mortification of the loving little girl -- universally sound much better recounted than they work on film. It takes a special talent to turn good ideas into shitty VHS tape, and Almodovar's got just the very special talent needed. Oodles of it! [↩]
« The Symbolics discussion
The retard's handshake »
Category: Trilematograf
Tuesday, 15 May, Year 10 d.Tr.