September 19, 2013
September 18, 2013
Just a quickie
So there I was, down the pub, discussing the new PC I was building, without willy waving it is pretty high end, Ivy Bridge on socket 2011, so some of the lads start talking components and manufacturer’s…
then “Ted” weighs in…
Ted asks me what mobo, I tell him Asus X79 WS, he don’t know what that is, but he says good, as long as it aint a Gigabyte, cos he has had two of them die on him in the past, and so he will never touch gigabyte again as long as he lives.
Ted asks me what HD’s, I tell him dual 512 gig OCZ Vector SSD, he don’t know what that is, but he says good, as long as it aint Seagate, cos he has had two of them die on him in the past, and so he will never touch seagate again as long as he lives.
That’s my policy, says Ted, fuck me over twice and that’s it, never again as long as I live will I go near your products.
I’ve had a few beers, I start laughing and make a comment, and it is one of those moments when you know that person ain’t never going to forget or forgive, fuck it and fuck him.
I laughed my ass off, and said “Ted, you’re on your third fucking marriage…….”
You could have heard a pin drop, I guess Ted will be making an exception in my case, I don’t have to fucking him over twice….lol
September 17, 2013
September 15, 2013
Dummies guide to what wimminz want.
The Dummies guides are reasonably good, if I read one dealing with a subject that I know something about in some depth, I find that they glide over everything and give a simplistic explanation and instruction that will usually achieve the desired result, but never educate the user as to why or how or what is going on under the bonnet as it were….
So think of this as the dummies guide to what wimminz want…
First thing you have to understand is wimminz never know what they want, that is not how they operate, they do however know what they DON’T want, and that is how they operate.
No keyboard detected. Press F1 to continue.
Those of you with any electronics knowledge will know the difference between an NPN transistor and a PNP transistor, and those of you with boolean logic knowledge will know about OR and NOR, and so on… none of them are very good examples, because they are all consistent and logical, whereas wimminz functioning when taken alone is an exercise in darwinism.
However, when you look at wimminz functioning in the natural evolutionary environment, which is the wild card input into men’s functioning, then it all starts to make sense.
Nevertheless, we are here today to talk about the wimminz side of the equation, and as we have seen, wimminz are real good at knowing not so much what they do not want, but when they do not want that particular thing…. they might well have been clamouring to get that thing, and they may well have been content to have that thing, but this is all just the DON’T WANT at work, they did not want that thing, rather they did not want to not have that thing…..
These are transient states.
But only once they have had and sampled that thing, rather like a baby who has screamed and fought for a slice of lemon, only then can the wimminz logic actually make a real decision, and IF that decision is made, or WHEN it is made, the wimminz decision mechanism only allows one decision to be made, and that decision is NOT WANT, and at that time that particular logic circuit for that particular thing lets out the magic smoke and becomes permanently fixed.
Once a wimminz decides that she has had enough of your skinny ass in her bad, that is it, game over, forever.
Of course, if you win the lottery she will let you back into her bed, but, to her that decision to NOT WANT you any more is still there, that neural pathway is fused in for life.
But, to a wimminz, “Bubba the ex” is “item 485,874”, and Bubba the ex and his lottery winnings is “item 486,735”, a completely new and separate thing, not item 485,874 + $5,000,000 in cash, but a completely separate thing.
However, once she realises that either the cash is gone, or she ain’t gonna get any of it no-how, then like a magic trick there is a puff of smoke and item 486,735 turns instantly into item 485,874.
If Item 485,874 is a really unlucky bastard, item 486,735 will not turn into item 485,874, but into item 487,658, and item 487,658 committed rape and DV against her, so all she has to do is call in da po-lice and collect all that lovely money, and at THAT point, when she gets her hands on the fucking money, item 487,658 turns into item 485,874.
You see where this is going…..
The most popular, painful, excruciating and exciting game shows for all wimminz everywhere are those that include the formula where there are a series of things, A, B, C, D etc
As the wimminz contestant works her way through the game she wins item B and throws away item A, then at the next correct play she wins item C and throws away item B, and so on, rinse and repeat.
If you want the bitches to wet their panties and freak with excitement as the hamster wheel does 14 squillion RPM, makes items A through M boxes that hold unknown prizes, each prize being an ever larger wad of cash, but randomly in there are three unknown boxes containing one red cent and a note saying “fuck off, loser”
To the wimminz this is working their way down a line of men, sampling each one that does not earn an instant DON’T WANT before it goes anywhere, until each guy does or fails to do something, and she wakes up and it’s DON’T WANT, on to the next.
And then one day they realise that the last 365 days have all been DON’T WANT, and guess what, they DON’T WANT that either, but being wired only for DON’T WANT, there is no way to fix this dilemma and accept the next half decent guy that comes along, some will try this strategy, but as soon as they have a man the DON’T WANT to not have a man is gone, so it is only a short time before they DON’T WANT that man.
Of course, we know where 100% of the fault, blame and responsibility for this situation lies, but since wimminz DON’T WANT to feel bad about themselves, well, it’s the fucking men’s fault innit.
If you want a wimminz to think “he is fucking dead to me”, all you as a man have to do is tell her to her face “I DON’T WANT YOU”, and that’s it, you are dead to her. Because she cannot conceive of a world in which DON’T WANT is anything other than a permanent state.
However, she *may* like item 485,874 above, decide to “change” herself, and then mebbe you’ll want her, so gastric band, liposuction, tit job, bingo.
One of the things wimminz DON’T WANT is being told CAN’T HAVE, and that is the basis for so called alpha male pulling power.
But, it isn’t kryptonite, because not all DON’T WANT’s are equal, as we have seen above, and as they get older, the DON’T WANT to end up alone and smelling of piss and cats starts to get REAL strong.
This starts ramping up big time in their thirties, and by the time they are in their fifties it is mainlining meth and PCP through their skulls 24/7.
I have had a couple of wimminz my age, just turned the corner into the half century, though their dating/swinging/fucking profiles claimed 41…lol… who would do ANYTHING I wanted sexually, and buy me beer, and so on and so forth, in an effot to trap me into a relationshit, starting by trying to get me to say I loved them, or trying to get me to give them an orgasm or lick their cunts… and then one day the penny drops, they realise they are NEVER gonna trap you, so not only are you an instant DON’T WANT, you are also an evil nasty mother-fucker who wasted three months of their lives, and when you are a 41 year old H^H^H^H^ 51 year old post wall wimminz, that feels like taking 20 bucks from a guy with 110 to his name, not only did you take a large chunk of what he had, what he has is now measures in two figures, not three, double plus ungood…lol
They DON’T WANT me so much it hurts.
And so dear readers, to conclude this brief introduction and dummies guide into what wimminz want, all you need to know is that there are two states to a wimminz logic.
- Schroedinger’s cat, almost, in that you simply do not know until you open the logic box if that cat is alive or dead.
- DON’T WANT, if the cat dies the box opens automatically, if you force the box open the cat dies automatically.
She will either be DON’T WANT, or DON’T KNOW, there are no other logic states, and don’t know is transient, while don’t want is permanent.
I’ll buy that for a dollar….
Of course it’s the line from Robocop, I fucking dread to think what the reboot will be like, the old movies were very tongue in cheek and slightly anarchic, having seen the trailer for the new one, it seems to be little more than an cgi explosion orgasm, with no doubt a few strong leading wimminz thrown in.
The point is though, the bald guy with glasses with a skank ho on each arm uttering that line in the film, yup, at 50c each they were “worth it”.
Winter is coming and I just bought another quartz electric fire for the kitchen in the mornings, I put in on for 30/45 minutes when I get up and before I go to work, I buy one every year because without fail at least one of the bars dies every year, and at around 20 bucks a pop they are essentially a disposable item, not something you would ever trust to leave on and walk away.
At 20 bucks a pop, they are “worth it”, same as the two skanks above, not because it is great value for money, but because it is cheap enough there is no hesitation or pain involved when it comes time to throw it in the trash.
Basically, there are three ways to meet wimminz;
- Directly in real life
- Virtually on-line
- Via the agency or actions of others
and each of those can be subdivided;
- Directly in real life
- Socially at a pub
- At work
- Randomly when shopping etc
- Virtually on-line
- pay per sites
- free sites
- Via the agency or actions of others
- set up dates by matchmaking friends
- invitations to events such as weddings
I have colour coded these, red text is never ever fucking do it, it always has the potential to cost you a LOT of money, purple is danger will robinson, your judgement is affected and you are spending money, green is I’ll buy that for a dollar.
Which brings us to several important points.
- If you are looking for something, you may as well set your stall out and state exactly what you are looking for, and exactly what you offer in exchange.
- If you treat making a sale, any sale, as a greater priority than making the exact sale you want, then, by definition, you are not going to be happy with the sale, so, by definition, you are deliberately setting yourself up for disappointment and dissatisfaction.
- If you allow others to “haggle” you to a difference price, then you are in the same boat as above.
- If you are quite content to sit there every day reading a book, and not making any sales or getting any kind of interest, you are golden.
Which brings us back to the various methods by which you can meet wimminz, the red text methods are all ways in which you are guaranteed to NOT be able to just set out your stall and sit back and chill.
The red text methods are all market trader methods, doing whatever it takes to make a sale.
Red Pill is a LIFESTYLE choice mother-fucker, if you are allowing mates to set you up on blind dates, if you are allowing wimminz at work to flirt with you, if you are paying agencies such as websites to get you in contact with wimminz, then you are not red pill, you are a blue pill niggerz.
Time to fucking man up bitch.
Stop investing ANYTHING of yourself or your time or your emotions or your money, over a dollar, on wimminz.
The purple text, well, it depends where you go, the pub I go to, when I go to a pub which isn’t that often any more (I used to practically live in the bastards, there at opening time and still there at chucking out, 7 days a week) is a red pill pub, chances are there will be not much more than a dozen guys there, all mature, all doing their own thing, no fucking wimminz, not even behind the bar. Red Pill.
If I went across the road to the student pub, which is heaving, it would be Blue Pill. Because I am making a conscious choice to occupy the same room as a bunch of skank ho entitlement pwincesses.
———————————————————–
Sure, lots of the “buy that for a dollar” wimminz I talk to flake and fade away, and what have I lost? So I don’t get a fuck I was never going to get, or I do get a fuck with crazy, there is no mileage whatsoever in thinking maybe if I message her, if the bitch was into you she will message you, if she does not message you she is not into you, and you messaging her ain’t gonna change that.
What it WILL fucking change is you, it makes you a market trader, desperate for a sale, a pussy begging mangina niggerz mother-fucker…. because you just invested more than that thing was ever worth, and not a guaranteed buy and get, but to con yourself you are still in the game.
Back in the 70’s I knew a couple of guys who used to travel around all the pubs and hotels doing auctions, they would promo it for 24 hours prior, do the auction, and literally skit to the next town and start the 24 hour promo.
They sold pens, they used to buy them for 50 pence and sell then for 4 pounds and 50 pence, a 900% markup making 4 quid profit.
If you went to their auctions, you would never ever know or realise they were selling pens, because they had a bunch of quite good stuff, surplus stock, all going cheap, cheap because it was surplus and not much markup, and it consisted of anything they could get. So you get ghetto blasters and stuff brand new for 49 quid instead of 110 and shit like that…
You get 100 people at a pub auction, and maybe 20 high value items going cheap, you’ll sell maybe 10 or 12 of them.
The stick was, the auction starter, he would go into the sales spiel, describe some of the high value items coming up, all genuinely quite tempting stuff, and then he would hit them with it, so I know you are all genuine buyer I am offering these fine quality metal cartridge ball point pens each one worth 9.99 at just 4.50 a pop, and only those who can bid by waving one of these pens at me can bid on these other luxury items and fantastic prices.
He’d sell 50 pens in the next 5 minutes…
He’d sell more pens in a day than a large stationers would sell in a week.
Bait and switch.
He’d never say he sold pens, or a bait and switch low ball cognitive dissonance merchant, he’d say he was an entrepreneur pulling in over a grand a week.
Same way blue bill mangina niggerz will never admit to being such a thing, they will tell you how many bitches they have on the go, and bear in mind, the pen guy was one of the few smart enough and hard working enough to actually pull it off.
Sure, he made a lot more than a dollar, but he invested a lot more than a dollar, way too much to walk away from with the casual disregard you will walk away from a half full dollar cup of coffee, and not give a second thought ever again to the half a cup of coffee left, or the 50c it cost you.
So the thing to do is avoid, completely, like the plague, all those things in red text, just don’t turn up for it, enforce it with your total absence from the game.
And the green text stuff, if it involves anything of any value from you, don’t do it.
How the fuck can you sit home alone in your man cave you fucking techno hermit, is the response, because the blue pill says alone = lonely and saddo, and the blue pill says you have to go out and meet wimminz to get any cunt, and the blue pill says a lot of other shit.
And it is like the punters at the pen sellers auction, they all think they are being smart and clever and are watching out for all the expected tricks on the high value items coming up, and none of them notices that every single one of them just got taken.
Shop like a man, whether it is groceries or cunt, go in with a list stating exactly what you want, look at and for nothing else, put that and nothing else in the trolley, and accept no substitutions or BOGOF deals of any kind, pay up, GTFO.
I go to one wal mart sized outlet near me, I buy the packs of 24 bog rolls if the price is right, and I buy the 1 Kg instant coffee tubs if the price is right, and I buy the proper coffee packets if the price is right, so sometimes I’ll buy one of those things, or two, or all three… sometimes I’ll walk out empty, and I never buy anything else…. I don’t go there very often, I don’t have to, I am a single man and I have 2 x 24 sealed packs of bog rolls stashed in the bathroom… cos they were a deal at 50c a roll.
I’ll buy that for a dollar.
September 14, 2013
Safe sex
This is a thing you’ll see used almost universally on profiles and discussions on swinging / fucking sites, what they are actually talking about is the guy wearing a condom while fucking the wimminz in the cunt or ass.
Blowjobs are not included, so of course there is wilful and deliberate ignorance (that gets very irate and very angry very fast if you dare to challenge it) about the relative risks of STD transmission via oral sex vs vaginal and anal sex.
Red pill alert.
What you are about to read is raw red pill, this may expose you to the fact that you have been blue pill thinking this, all the while thinking you were red pill all the way.
- If you actually study the subject, you’ll find that the term STD in its broadest sense can cover all sorts of things from the truly serious such as HIV all the way down to “I have an itch”, and in some case is even expanded to cover things that are not diseases, such as pubic lice.
- If you actually study the subject, two things leap out at you,
- Condoms, when treated as a preventative of STD transmission, have varying efficiencies depending on the disease in question, with rates ranging for a 60% reduction in risk up to a 99% reduction in risk, but, same as for pregnancy, condoms are not 100% effective
- In the cases of *some* STDs, condoms can actually *increase* the risk of transmission, vs bareback.
- Now, one of the things people really do not want to discuss is the *huge* disparity between transmission risk, depending on *direction*
Let’s take #3 first, on one side we have the “receptacle” which is what it says it is, INTERNAL flesh, be it mouth ass or cunt, on the other side we have the cock.
Transmission from receptacle to cock is much much much harder than transmission from cock to receptacle.
If you are a hetero guy (holds up hand) who *never* eats or licks cunt (holds up hand) you are way ahead of the game, because you have zero receptacles.
If you eat cunt you have one receptacle.
If you are a bi/gay guy you have two receptacles.
If you are a wimminz you have three receptacles.
Just as not all diseases are equal, not all receptacles are equal, some diseases prefer oral as an infection path, some prefer vaginal or anal.
And of course not all cunts or mouths are equal, different brands of soap, different diet, all kinds of things come in to play, so it is the same as not everyone in the office getting the cold bug that goes around.
So, the first part of this red pill on safe sex is that wimminz be most at risk of catching something, and guys like me be least at risk, and the risk *gap* between those two cases is fucking huge.
You simple CANNOT take transmission risks from cock to receptacle, and from receptacle to cock, and lump them all together in one big pile. It is dishonest.
I want to take a moment to talk about risk, if wearing a condom is “safe sex”, then you can simply pop one on, and fuck some skank with HIV, no problem, you’re protected…. right? no?
No, lets say condoms are 90% proof against HIV
Lets say as a man with HIV, fucking a wimminz who is “clean” gives you a 1 in 20 chance of infection, e.g. on average if you fuck her 20 times you can statistically / probability wise almost guarantee infection, fuck her 10 times is a 50/50 risk, fuck her once its a 1 in 20 (but, that first shot could also be on target..)
Add a prophylactic, with 90% reduction in risk, which is 9 outta 10
If it was 1 in 20 before, it’s now 1 in 200, so fuck her 200 times you can statistically / probability wise almost guarantee infection, but, that first shot might also do the job, depending on your luck.
In other words, when play with risks it is just a question of iteration, if you keep playing long enough you roll a six, add a bother dice and keep playing long enough and you’ll roll a double six, add another dice and keep playing long enough and you’ll roll a treble six.
This then is not “safe” anything, sure, it is safe-er, but that ain’t how it is marketed.
Russian roulette with a revolver with 1,000 chambers and 1 bullet is not safe Russian roulette, it is just safe-er than playing with a six gun, keep playing and you die, 100% guaranteed.
Nothing that is 100% guaranteed depending on the number of iterations is “safe”.
Less people die per air-plane mile than per auto-mobile mile, so it is safe-er, but, the flip-side is there are no fender benders that everyone walks away from completely uninjured when a plane crashes.
So to reiterate the first part of this red pill, while using condoms can REDUCE risk, it doesn’t eliminate it, and in any event it is a tiny bit like pregnancy in the sense that it is mainly a wimminz problem, and the more you fuck the more likely you’ll hit the jackpot.
The second part of this red pill is human nature, people driving clunkers with dodgy brakes drive a lot more carefully than that same person in a car with airbags / ABS / ESS / etc, it’s a known fact, we all have a safety comfort zone, this is too unsafe and dangerous, this is too safe and boring, this is just right, so if you alter things and give them a safer car, they drive more aggressively to get back into that comfort zone.
Hand anyone a bunch of condoms and talk about safe sex, and they will go out and fuck people that they would not fuck bareback.
Disagree with me all you like, I’m a 50+ year old man who has seen and done it all, and that is all I have ever seen. Take it as Gospel.
The third part of this red pill is symbolism, totems, and bullshit.
I’m gonna talk about the swinging community, and again as a 50+ year old man who has seen and done it all, let me tell you the difference between the swinging community and everyone else.
Swingers admit they fuck around.
Bit like the old joke about there being two types of men, those who admit to having a wank, and liars.
Swingers admit they fuck around, and often the condom, or lack of it, is used to make a distinction without a difference, a line in the sand, a way of differentiating one person they are fucking from the others, that’s it, a psychobabble prop.
To use the russian roulette analogy, this is like being presented with a selection of revolvers, the safe sex swingers / fuckbuddies which are 1,000 chamber jobs, and your regular partner / husband / wife, which is a six chamber job… and playing with all those revolvers.
To reiterate the first part of this red pill, being a hetero male who doesn’t eat cunt, ever, or kiss, ever, I am already a 10,000 chamber revolver.
And so we come to the last part of this red pill.
And while the blue pills in all of you can intellectually see all the sense in what I have said up until now, this is the bit of the red pill that is like the grainy sour grit in the bottom of a cup of medicine, the hardest to swallow, but, the bit with all the goodness… that first bit of the cup was just a prophylactic…lol
And here we go.
As a 50+ year old male (YMMV is you are 40’s, 30’s, 20’s, but not as much as you may think, not so much it puts you on a par with the wimminz) we have to examine what happens when the hammer does not drop on an empty chamber, but a full one.
I personally know some people who are HIV+, one I first met in 1993, she doesn’t know when or where or how she caught it, to look at her today you would never know, she looks and acts fine. I met her via I guy I know and knew, he met her, she disclosed she had HIV, me and everyone else told him to run the fuck away, he didn’t, they are still together 20 years later, for the first few years they were careful, protected sex only, then one night drunk he thought fuck it, then it happened again, then he thought fuck it and stopped bothering, still got tested every six months.
Eventually, after 12 years of fucking her bareback, he caught it, again you wouldn’t fucking know, it basically doesn’t affect his life as much as people I know with diabetes or people I who who are allergic to wasp stings.
Basically, for the man, if you get something that looks or feels nasty and painful, you go to the doctor and you can take some shit and the *symptoms* disappear.
Sure, the infection is still there, but the symptoms aren’t
It is a known fact, due to regular blood screening in hospitals, coupled with bizzarro rules about disclosure and privacy and so on, that a minimum of 250,000 people in England have Hep-C, with a population of 53 million that is one in 200
it is also a known fact that there were only 7,000 *reported* cases last year, the symptoms are indistinguishable from over indulgence in alcohol, which so many do nowadays.
That factual statistic, 250,000 known infections, v 7,000 reported cases last year, is a useful guesstimate for all other STD’s, only 1 in 35 is reported, because only 1 in 35 generated enough symptoms in the patient that they went to a doctor to get whatever it was seen to.
That and the other fact, and it ain’t patriarchy or misandry, just biology, that basically this shit just doesn’t affect men that much, but it really does affect wimminz, and more often that not that effect is manifested in their fertility, or lack of, or their menstrual cycle, and the discomfort of, or in the smell from their cunt, and the embarrassment of…
———————————————————————–
Now and again I counsel young men, I tell them the following;
- Risk is something you take, and you own, if you take a risk and it comes up snake eyes you have to own the consequences.
- If you want kids, well, STD’s can affect sperm production and quality, but the real deal is whether the mother has any.
- Going to a clinic regularly and using prophylactics does not make you safe, and if it comes up snake eyes, and then you infect someone, you are doing it knowingly, and that is a criminal offence, and being a man, you will get charged.
- A condom does not make someone fuckable, the way to reduce risk is to be discerning, wash your cock and balls immediately before and after fucking, and hydrate, so you can piss immediately after fucking and before washing.
- Do not eat or lick cunt
- Do not suck cock or take it up the ass.
- Lots of things and spots and minor damage can naturally occur to your cock, it doesn’t mean you have VD, you can damage it on wimminz cunt stubble for example, but until it heals, stay away from cunt…
- EVERYONE fucks bareback, just because they and you do not do it together, does not mean they or you are safe.
- If you don’t want kids, or are living alone, and you have no symptoms, it’s not your problem. Obviously it is FAR better to not have any health issues, but the same thing applies to smoking and drinking and eating well,we still do them.
- Just because something is communicable does not suddenly make it exclusively your problem, see point #1, you are responsible for YOUR health, own it, and expect everyone else to do the same.
- Unless you are a really unlucky sonofabitch, you could be a walking STD petri dish and not even know it, so why is it a problem, just because the infection is SEXUALLY transmitted, as opposed to something you get off a toilet seat or a dirty cup or food or by breathing?
- Buy a dictionary and read the definition of the word asymptomatic.
The red pill, STD’s are a wimminz issue, just like cunt cancers and tit cancers and all the rest, not my fucking problem, and won’t be until every hospital has a specialist MEN’S HEALTH department to go along with the fucking specialist wimminz health department.
Prophylactics are just wimminz way of countering the increased risk of the contraceptive pill, which allows all wimminz, not just the village bike and whore, to have a large cock count.
I make a point on swingers sites of saying my policy is bareback or fuck off, I’m just picky about who I fuck, I have to tell you two facts.
- I have yet to fuck a wimminz who did not have some variation of “no glove, no love” on their profile/advert.
- I have yet to have any of these wimminz even mention condoms when we fuck, bareback. No glove, but my cock went in all three receptacles, because that is another of the points I make on my advert, access all areas or fuck off.
To sum up, all sex involves some risk, my attitude is you use your brain to mitigate that risk, not a condom, which is just a way of deceiving yourself, and if you are a hetero male who doesn’t eat cunt or kiss, and who is hygienic and picky, you’re still at risk, but you are waaaay ahead of the crowd.
If you are a young wimminz, then your risk factors are astronomical, and a lifetime cock count of three is pushing your luck.
In closing, if you are young wimminz, one of the biggest problems you dramatically raise the risk of with a high cock count is cunt cancer, no fucker but me will tell you this, but give yourself another 40 years and you will see the empirical truths for yourself…. every wimminz I know with cunt cancer or even just a cunt cancer scare that was caught early and had medical intervention, had a cock count in three digits.
I shit you not.
September 13, 2013
September 12, 2013
It hurts, being a soldier, behind enemy lines.
In the postbag, stuff from guys toughing it out and swallowing red pills like ludes at a dead concert, yeah we know we are doing the right thing for our own survival, but why does it hurt so much?
In brief, it hurts because you are down behind enemy lines, on your own, it sucks, but it is better than being in the trenches outside Damascus.
It hurts, because not only the ones you correctly identified as your enemies are out to get you, but also those you formerly incorrectly identified as allies and colleagues.
It hurts, because it is lonely, you don’t have the faux comradeship and faux companionship you had before.
It hurts, because it is supposed to….
As for Damascus itself….
Well, in my day job, I turn up on site, after a bunch or resellers of resellers of resellers have resold a product, and outsourced parts of that product to four different suppliers at the end of four different reseller chains, of which I am but one.
The customer, the site, it is a major high street brand with over a thousand outlets in mainland England alone, you know the name, hell, you’ve probably spent money there yourself.
Fact is I could pull a couple of other equally large or larger jobs out of last weeks diary, the only reason I don’t is I couldn’t give *any* clues about who they are or what they do, or you would immediately know exactly who they were, but, the story is *exactly* the same.
So 5 site visits in a row to 5 different sites, and in every one, I cannot do the job I was there to do, and the reason I cannot do it is not;
- that someone else forgot to tell anyone to do x
- that someone wasn’t told by someone else to do x
- that x itself wasn’t documented and planned up the wazoo
you get the picture.
No, the problem in every case is that everyone prior to me in the process has played their part, but the process itself is specifically designed so that no one person has any knowledge or interest in what those following on are supposed to do.
So one guy will come alone and install a new cabinet over there next to the spare power sockets, and another guy will come along and install the dsl/pstn lines over there next to the existing phone sockets, and the distance between the two “there’s” exceeds the length of the RJ11 cable supplied to connect the two together.
And nobody has done anything wrong, and everyone, even me, who doesn’t do the job he turned up to do, can get his paperwork signed, and everyone goes home happy, except the customer.
When things *do* work out, it isn’t because everyone is working to IS0/BS/six sigma or any of that crap, or because everyone is a certified nintendo developer, or because the whole project is managed and documented so well.
It is because there are enough people in the system like me, with a spread of knowledge and experience much broader than my job description calls for, who can go the extra mile in some cases, and use their fucking brain in others, so that the next guy in the chain can do his bit and forge another link in the chain.
Not *because* of the system, but *despite* the system.
If you think the fields of politics or economics or war are any different, you’re in for a rude surprise…. especially if you find yourself in a trench outside Damascus.
So, enough time has passed I can tell you a true story.
Anyone who has been in the armed forces knows it moves on bullshit paperwork, just like the jobs I describe above, with the added pleasure of you yourself being a thing with a number, not an intelligent free agent like I am at work.
So, let’s call him Pete.
Pete is an army driver, he is given orders and papers, go to the motor pool, draw a truck and 30,000 litre trailer, go here and fill the truck with diesel, then go here and deliver that 30,000 litres of diesel, then bring the truck and trailer back.
So, all goes well until Pete gets to his destination with 30k litres of diesel, and he is told we got no room, the bunkers are full, go away.
Pete goes back to the fuel depot, told to go way, no paperwork for no 30k litre delivery.
Pete goes back to his base and the motor pool, told to go away, no paperwork for a truck and FULL 30k tanker trailer.
Pete goes to a pub down the road to ponder his dilemma, everyone has been scrupulous in doing their job, nobody has done anything wrong, in fact to fix this problem, someone would have to exceed their authority and do something wrong.
Pete sinks a couple more beers, pondering all this, and a friendly local farmer offer to solve his problem, he will buy the 30k litres of diesel, at a discounted price, of course.
Pete sells the farmer the diesel, returns to base with an empty truck, waved straight through, job done, paperwork filled, away you go brother.
Of course, sooner or later the missing 30k litres was flagged and Pete got dishonourably discharged, which in reality didn’t bother him a bit, saved him 5 more years in the green.
Ok, we all know Pete did the wrong thing, but the situation he found himself in was not one of his own making, and if he hadn’t had that exact same sort of shit every other day of his life, he might have done the right thing that day.
SNAFU
But things become slightly more likely to escalate out of control in totally unplanned directions that have no stop, pause or rewind buttons, when you are playing around in potential war zones.
And if excuse like “but I did everything my job sheet said, and I got it signed off” or “but I was unable through the actions of someone else to complete my job sheet, but it clearly wasn’t my fault, so I got it signed off” become ever so slightly more annoying when we are not talking about a customer whose site is hard down with no net connection, but when we are talking about a village and 5,000 inhabitants turned into grit and brown paint.
So, brothers, it may be unpleasant to find yourself down alone behind enemy lines, but it will get several orders of magnitude more unpleasant if you are dumb enough to stick your head up outta your foxhole and ask where the pussy has gone.
September 11, 2013
Michael Evil (sic)
So, after spending a year dishing dirt on the guy, the meedja now want to know what’s wrong with the fucking system… any old lies to sell more copies and ad impressions eh.
One the one hand, no evidence of any kind is sufficient to drag him into court, but no evidence of any kind is suddenly insufficient to drag his false rape accuser into court, funny that…
and now I want
to say something
VERY, VERY, VERY
fucking important.
Every single fucking time this happens, some cunt trots out the platitude that at the end of the day there are only two people who really know what happened, the accuser and the accused.
Speaking as one of the accused, allow me to clear that point up, the accused knows he didn’t fucking do it, or anything even remotely like it, but let me assure you of one thing, one of the truest and most profound things you can say about any many falsely accused of rape is not that he is one of two people on the planet who know what really happened, he is in fact the one person on the planet most in the dark and confused about what happened.
To this fucking day;
- I do not know what happened.
- I was one of the last to hear that the po-lice were not going to charge me
- I was only given sight of my lying psycho skank ho ex FRA’s actual testimony in court, in my case a seekrit family court, in mike evil’s case a criminal court
- I (like mike evil) was not permitted to see my accuser in court, the cunt hid behind a screen, everyone else could see her
- I was the one person on the planet not allowed to contact my accuser, or anyone who knew her, to ask WTF was going on
- etc
- you get the picture
I really do wish the guy all the best, as I say that as someone who couldn’t stand the soap he was in, or his character in it, or his acting, and on any other day I would have said he deserved 20 years for it, but that was all a bit tongue in cheek, what he went through was real, and it isn’t over.
On the contrary, the news is now filled with stories of the soap directors offering him a quarter of a million quid a year, so there is 250,000 reasons for more false accusations to come out of the woodwork.
He is however slightly better off than the other celebutards charged but awaiting trial, as his trial was such a fuck up there will be vastly increased pressure to get a conviction on one of them.
Comments Off on Michael Evil (sic)
September 8, 2013
Edumacashun
It really does bother me how widespread ignorance has become, it bothers me more how profound those levels of ignorance are. I don’t have to give examples here, you can all think of them, from lack of basic education in maths / science / history to genuine dumbass stuff.
But.
It is a mistake to equate lack of intellect and education with lack of cunning, and it is a truism that those with some intellect and education vastly under-estimate the efficacy of raw cunning, usually by claiming it is not applicable here.
I spent much of this weekend talking to, and listening to, some of the gutter yoof of today, mid to late teens stuff, and of course I was their age once, and I have a functioning memory, so I can see where a lot of their shit is coming from, but I can also see some remarkable shifts in degree, in many areas.
I spark up a cigarette, I know smokes aren’t a health food, but cancer is a possibility / probability some time down the line, it is not an immediate concern, immediate concerns are I want a smoke, a coffee and a blowjob…. these are things I want today, I’m not going to forgo those pleasures today, because there is no guarantee I get anything tomorrow, so I grab it when I can.
Discussions about Syria or the petrodollar or fiat currencies are discussions you can’t have, they don’t know and they don’t care, they care about what is in reach, right here, right now.
Discussions and plans for tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, those are for rich cunts, even paying the landlord at the end of the month, that’s a long way away, here and now ain’t.
Making a series of instant gratification choices as they are presented by opportunity doesn’t require any intellect, nor does knowing any of 200 or so “trigger phrases” that can be spurted out on demand to produce a pavlovian response in whoever they are said to, for immediate advantage to the sayer, whether it is how to get a “loan” out of the social security to how to bullshit the po-lice or the magistrate.
I haven’t done drugs for years, many years, but when I was young I did, and me being me, if it was worth doing, it was worth doing to excess.
To put it bluntly, I spent months at a time, with the odd very rough day interspersed when I was straight, and I was hanging out with, according to common knowledge, the most dangerous and despicable elements of society, and I am not stupid enough, even under a blogging pen name decades later, to put any of it down in writing in any detail, but I laughed real hard when I first read some of Hunter Thompson‘s stuff, hey bro.
During this period I was particularly fond of acid, and so I spent a lot of time totally whacked on the stuff, and came to understand dogs extremely well indeed, and by extension, people.
If you ever really wanted to know what it would be like to be a creature with a smaller brain, but still an intelligent creature, such as a dog, just do loads of acid and spend time with your dog, preferably out in the woods.
Life gets sliced up into lots of small things, and those things absorb your entire attention, until the next thing intrudes and pushes that moment away to make way for the next.
If I say “vinegar” you can taste and smell it, and if I think of one of those times out in the woods with the dog, I can smell not just that dog, but that breed of dog, and to this day I can recognise that breed of dog by how they smell, it’s a good smell, I had good times with my dog.
If you had been around in that area at that time (late seventies) you might on one occasion have seen a guy in leathers sat on a proper outlaw hardtail chop, one built to run and run fast and corner well, in a car park of one of the new supermarkets, high on acid and toking on a spliff with a sawed off shotgun casually leant against the sissy bar, while my bro was off in the supermarket in question, it was his gun, he left it with me to go in and take a bottle of scotch, I can’t remember your faces, or the exact town or supermarket, or the exact month or year, or what specific reason the guy was carrying for that day, I remember there was one, but can’t remember what it was, I can’t remember much about worrying about the po-lice, or anything else.
I can remember in very great detail the sunlight showing off the engraving on the stock, and noticing and marvelling at the similarities to the engraving on the sissy bar, and realising (duh) with a whoosh that REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED who did the engraving on the sissy bar for me was a gun smith too, and next thing I know my bro is back with the bottle of whiskey, “time to boogey” he says, and off we go.
I can remember later than day a veritable convoy of po-lice vehicles surrounding us, they were looking for a couple of bikers with guns, we didn’t have any, my bro had gone off and done whatever it was and returned, apparently without the gun, I didn’t know and never thought to ask until after the po-lice left us, we weren’t the ones they were looking for, we had no weapons, and all bad-ass bikers look alike to the straights, and it was all no big deal, over as soon as it was over.
Just one of many many many moments in a life lived moment to moment, thanks to the intervention of drugs in my case rather than any innate don’t give a fuck attitude, and yet I slid through it all relatively unharmed and unscathed, simple animal cunning was what did it.
I really do have to stress that point, whatever intellect and “what about tomorrow, and next week, and next month” smarts I had were suppressed, chemically in my case, but the method doesn’t matter, the results do.
Even functioning only on animal instinct, it is extraordinarily hard to truly fuck up, because said animal instinct is a *lot* smarter than we want to accept, intellectually, and yet, it is only there as a by product of millions of years of evolution, it SHOULD be good at this shit.
I had occasion to go back to that area some time ago, and bumped into some people who knew me, or knew of me, back then.
Much to my surprise, and disquiet, I apparently had an awesome reputation as a very mean, very dangerous, very badass individual.
“How the fuck can you possibly say that, I never hurt anyone or did anything to anyone!” was my reply.
“No,” the guy says, “you were way too cold and smart for that.”
“What the fuck are you on about?” I ask him, while noting that he is growing uncomfortable, he is thinking I am angry with him, thinking about my past, that he thinks he knows about.
He tells me, “I was sat right here, and you were sat right over there, and REDACTED who wasn’t exactly a big softie say something about ya missed me cos of beer coming out of a bottle, and you just jerked the bottle and it spurted out and hit him in the face and said no I didn’t”
Now that he mentioned it, I did sort of recall the incident in question, he continues..
“so REDACTED grabs the bottle from your hand, smashes it against the table and raises it to shove it in your face, and he freezes, and the whole fucking pub goes quiet watching, and there you are, as usual, no expression on your face, looking at him right in they eye, with that small smile of yours.. no reaction, no flinching, nothing, stone cold bastard, waiting to see what he would do, and after a few second he puts the bottle down and walks away”
I tell him, “dude, I was on acid 24/7, you don’t think, you don’t plan, you don’t analyse, you feel, you react, you experience.”
I could tell, he wasn’t buying it, and trotted out a couple more stories, to which I gave him the exact same answer, he still wasn’t buying it, but then, he had never done acid.
My dog was smarter than him, my dog would not have needed the explanation, yowf…
Heinlein kinda said it in his 1941 short story Logic of Empire
But it is intellectual mind defending itself by ascribing intellect and intent to actions by others that outwit it, because to accept otherwise is to accept that intellect does not trump everything else.
You got outwitted by a dumbass, dumbass.
Ouch
Any “education” that does not, as a priority, teach the student about the inherent dangers and weaknesses of that education, is itself suspect.
Back when I was being taught engineering, much of what I was taught was what engineering could not do, and the myriad ways in which things could go wrong, and leave you worse off than when you started.
A simple example is using plastic metal to “fix” a leaking compression fitting, the correct fix is strip the union, clean it up, new olives and maybe some PTFE tape, once you use plastic metal you have to cut the offending section of pipe out and make a new one.
Engineering is no longer taught this way.
Nor, it seems, is anything else, from economics through politics to sociology.
And it is these “last week I couldn’t even spell engineer, now I are one” types that rule the roost, they have an education, they know this because they have been told it is so, not by any empirical analysis.
And while I would not wish to praise the total lack of education of the yoof of today, and to a slightly lesser extent those in their twenties, and a slightly lesser extent those in their thirties, the less edumakayshum you are burdened with, the more chance there is for base animal cunning to come to the fore, hopelessly short sighted and amoral as it is.
They are not necessarly burdened by this lack of an edumakayshum, whereas they would all benefit from an education, but that has been systematically destroyed alongside the rise in feminazism and the rise of the state.
Comments Off on Edumacashun
