So naturally enough I start talking about relationshits and how people aren’t haaapy… I sometimes pull out the android smartphone and treat them to a rendition of It’ll be lonely this Christmas by Mud, fuck it, here you go.
Thing is, 2012 is a very different planet from as recently as 2002, a mere ten years ago.
In 2002 you could pretty much guarantee than no average 13 year old on up had 24/7 access to mobile comms, hell in 2002 not that many people had “broadband” at home, for values of broadband that meant 512/128 kbit ADSL, but they did have landline phones and post addresses for snail mail, that was pretty ubiquitious.
Fast forwards to late 2012 and I can get 5 mbit up and down on my android smartphone, uncapped, for less than 30 quid a month, and in addition to SMS and MMS messaging it monitors 5 separate email accounts and whatsapp and a couple of sex/dating accounts/sites.
I am accessible 24/7, and every wimminz of fuckable age in this country is accessible 24/7 because they are also carrying around smartphones.
If anyone wants anything, from train times to the weather to the car breakdown guy, they whip out the smartphone and 60 seconds later they are in contact.
It really is as simple as that, anyone can contact anyone else they want within 60 seconds.
Which means if you haven’t been contacted by that person, it’s because they don’t want to contact you right now… if they haven’t contacted you for 24 hours, then they haven’t wanted to contact you for 24 hours, if they haven’t contacted you for a week, then they haven’t wanted to contact you for a week…
The ONLY exceptions to this are those where you are given an advance warning, as in I’m going on holiday for two weeks starting tomorrow.
So this guy’s girlfriend has an iphone with his number on it, a crackberry with his number on it, a laptop with his personal on it, and she has stayed over at his place and has a car so she knows where he is, in addition she knows who he works for and what his employers website is and that he can be contacted via this company website.
It don’t matter what she says when he is with her, if he don’t hear from her, not a peep, for 48 hours straight the only possible explanations are that she is dead, or she hasn’t wanted to contact him for 48 hours.
He’s rubbing his head with the palm of his hand, and asks me does this happen to me, do wimminz not contact me for hours or days at a time?
Fuck yeah, of COURSE they do, it is in their nature, which is why I don’t plan my life around the bitches, and more importantly, why I always keep a background search on for jane48, jane49, jane50 etc while I am “with” jane47, because sure as god made little green apples, jane47 is going to have periods where she doesn’t contact me, and the only possible reasons are I AM NOT A FUCKING PRIORITY TO HER.
Bitch can SAY anything she wants to deny that, the FACT is she probably looked at her smartphone at least once an hour, but did not take 15 seconds to send you an SMS saying “Hi babes missin’ u xxxxx“… that’s a fucking FACT Jack.
Fuck what she says or claims, what she DOES or DOES NOT DO trumps words and claims every fucking time.
But, he blubbers, she is supposed to be my GIRLFRIEND….
Fuck that, she is a fucking fuckbuddy, no strings attached.
Girlfriend is the conjunction of two words, Girl + Friend.
Neither of these words implies 24/7 joined at the hip ping pong “luv u hunni” texting, and while it is nice to think that while she does not have your cock in her, she is thinking about your cock and you, that ain’t the way wimminz work…..
“out of sight, out of mind“ is a phrase that is tailor made to describe how wimminz minds work.
When the bitch wants something, she will be in touch, bet your ass on that one.
Which means you gotta be like the car breakdown guy, you can’t sit there 24/7 hoping your one potential customer will call…. you got to have a fucking customer base….
If the bitch phones the car breakdown guy, and he is already out on a call, well she can fucking join the queue…
A quote from a comment made by 8oxer to the last article
“When I would talk to the hardcore MGTOW brothers, back in the day, I got the business constantly. It is as though some people believe that a redpill life is equivalent to joining a monastery, never having sex nor anything to do with wimminz again, and anyone who does not share their vow of celibacy is deluded, a fool, or a mangina white knight dog who is not true to the brotherhood. Such polar thinking does nothing to me. With that sort of black/white thinking one may as well just drop out completely, go live in the woods as a hermit, cut off his nose to spite his face, cut off his cock right after, and never talk to anyone again.”
There is no shortage of people such as Bruce Perens who talk about security theatre, screening all passengers at London Heathrow airport for box cutters / stanley knives to prevent another “raghead muslim terrorist atrocity” is no more than security theatre, not real security, because Heathrow airport is only a couple of miles from several large indigenous raghead muslim enclaves, where lo and behold most of the airport and aircraft cleaning staff are hired from, at low wages, and they aren’t routinely screened and they could leave box cutters and anything else hidden on an aircraft for an accomplice “passenger” to find and exploit.
The airport body scanners are therefore no more than theatre, and jobs for the boys of course.
It may make ya feel safer, but it doesn’t actually make you one iota safer in fact.
Which brings us to 8oxer’s comment, dropping out completely, living in the woods as a hermit, and cutting off your nose and your cock may make ya feel safer from the tentacles of the feminazi state, but it don’t actually make you one iota safer.
If anything, it makes you MORE at risk, because your false sense of security will cause you to dismiss shit that would otherwise trigger an alert in you, after all, all the other passengers were screened JUST LIKE YOU, so they can’t have gotten anything on the plane…. right?… right??
Unbeknownst to you, some skank ho who doesn’t even know you exist, in need of an explanation for staying out late and having a threesome, tells her darling beta male she was raped by some freaky hermit guy as she was waiting for a bus down by the woods.
When the po-lice find your hermit hideout, you are going down for 15 years for a rape you didn’t commit, what’s that? No penis? Well clearly you’re nuts and used a sex toy to compensate, after all we can’t expect the poor rape victim to check for a real penis vs a fake one while you hold a knife to her throat etc… have an extra 10 years for being nuts…
The yanks just pulled a guy out from halfway around the world, for allegedly not paying alimony to a wimminz, which is why I said yesterday;
I can never change the bit on my birth certificate that says “male”
I can never change the law.
I can never escape from all interaction with wimminz.
All I can do is indulge in security theatre, which basically is sleepwalking into an even more vulnerable state, or I can do something to address my security, which is what this blog has always been about, and why those links are always there on the right.
As 8oxer has seen, you have to differentiate between a dogma and a strategy.
I happen to like fucking, which makes me one of the fortunate ones because I can combine my need to empty my balls into some slut with a constant search for the “camouflage jane” of the day, week, month or year, all of which makes me safer than the hermit in the woods, or the guy who runs away half way around the planet…
A dogma is lazy, I followed instructions and went to the woods and built a shack, job done, I am now safe from wimminz.
A strategy is dynamic, that shit I did last week with jane47 I need to do again this week with jane47, fresh, not just cookie cutter.
Fuck, I have to breathe, not like I didn’t breathe yesterday, or eat yesterday, or take a shit yesterday, or exercise yesterday, or sleep / rest yesterday, the stuff I talk about here, smartphone and archiving everything to the cloud, it’s just more of the same man, shit you have to do every fucking day until the day you die in order to live / survive.
If you’re a yank, you’ve probably been “protected” from having to read this.
Arguably it is a moot point whether kids or dogs in afdiggastan most need to fear death from the skies with no warning from Brandon Bryant’s replacement killers, the only thing not up for discussion is whether the kids and dogs in afdiggastan are paranoid, the x-box killers ARE out to fucking kill them… HEAD SHOT…. collateral damage… re spawning in 3…2…1…
If you are a kid or a dog in afdiggastan, or a man in the western world, there is no re-spawning, no saved games, no pause button, no exit button, you may just be collateral damage and virtual shit to some other wimminz or niggerz, not an actual intended target, but it makes no odds, the shit is still 100% real to you, and your belief in security theatre over actual security strategy is only going to contribute greatly to your grave situation.
Like I said above, I’m lucky, I like cunt, could be a lot worse, I could be a fag like Mr Donovan who would presumably find courting a wimminz for camouflage repulsive, or a 30’s Hollywood actor, needing a sham marriage to a wimminz for camouflage… just as the drones in afdiggastan kill kids and dogs as easily as crazed raghead terr’rists, the feminazi drones in western society fuck up the lives of fags and hermits and negroes as easy as white heterosexual males….
======================================
Bryant saw a flash on the screen: the explosion. Parts of the building collapsed. The child had disappeared. Bryant had a sick feeling in his stomach. “Did we just kill a kid?” he asked the man sitting next to him. “Yeah, I guess that was a kid,” the pilot replied. “Was that a kid?” they wrote into a chat window on the monitor. Then, someone they didn’t know answered, someone sitting in a military command center somewhere in the world who had observed their attack. “No. That was a dog,” the person wrote. They reviewed the scene on video. A dog on two legs?
I often get a lot of emails and stuff, and recent posts seem to have suggested to certain sectors of my readership that I have an new and special wimminz in my life, and am about to renounce AWALT in favour of NAWALT.
I meet all kinds of wimminz, from the outrageous sluts / skanks / psychos through all the variations and hamster wheel rationalisations in a form of pyramid where the better the quality the wimminz, the rarer she is.
Yes, it is true to say that currently there is a wimminz in my sphere that is in many ways pretty fucking exceptional, exceptional enough for me to respect somewhat and care for somewhat.
For the purposes of this post we will call her “Jane”
Does this make her NAWALT?
Does it fuck…
It is not even this exceptionally good wimminz own personal qualities and attributes that determines whether or not she is a NAWALT, she is, sadly, an AWALT, because this is the only sane response, because in every way that matters she is the same as the depths of the slutty skanky psycho skank ho pool.
Fact is, as a human being, this particular wimminz is about as far removed from my FRA wielding psycho skank ho ex as you can get and still have tits and a cunt.
Fact is, in law, and therefore status with respect to me, this particular wimminz is absolutely identical in every way to my FRA wielding psycho skank ho ex.
The ONLY FUCKING THING THAT MATTERS is what it says on her birth certificate and mine in the bit where it lists the sex of the baby, if it says “female” then it trumps “male” in the law, every time, every area, no exceptions.
But wait, it gets worse.
The only changes I can make to the relative status of myself, and ANY wimminz, is to marry the bitch, and the only changes that makes are negative ones for me…
She gets power of attorney, ownership of all my shit (and you will know what that shit feels like when you come home one day and find your darling wife tried to sell your harley while you were away, and only your mate prevented it by being smart enough to claim he was owed 50% of the value of the bike in work and so had a prior lien) priority (over me) access to all my shit, and in return I get liability for all debts and mortgages and loans in her name, even if they were taken out by her before I ever met the bitch.
Speaking frankly, if there were ANY justice in the law, any man marrying a wimminz would be excluded for all of the above by way of insanity, but the law plays it the other way and deems the man insane and therefore the wimminz should be placed in charge of all of his shit, and his future earning and reproductive capacity, and his life and liberty.
It’s not the brand new showroom jaguar with delivery miles that will get ya, it’s the 200k mile clunker that is what you get when you split up, and she decides allegations of DV / FRA is an easy way to get custody. They ALL turn into 200,000 mile clunkers the instant you split.
However, there are three vital things you need to grasp;
I can never change the bit on my birth certificate that says “male”
I can never change the law.
I can never escape from all interaction with wimminz.
I might as well complain about gravity of the orbit of the earth, tilting at windmills…
So what is left?
What is left is dealing with reality.
I treat “Jane” in exactly the same way I treat the skankiest pump and dump cumslut that I will voluntarily interact with for kinky sex, I still archive all my SMS messages with her to the cloud, I still archive all my emails with her to the cloud, I still archive my location (Smartphone with GPS and Google Latitude / Location history) to the cloud, and google calendar, to the cloud, I just turn all that shit up to 11.
I make sure everything is littered with exculpatory evidence should there ever be a future allegation of DV or more… see point #3 above, and stories of random men being selected by wimminz as their alleged rapist…. “jane” is my fucking alibi, both against any putative future allegations by her, and against any putative future allegations by any other wimminz.
Single men be “creepy”
“Jane” is camouflage.
The only thing that astonished me is that this shit is not so obvious to so many readers who felt compelled to either tell me that I was not a real MRA any more or trying to warn me about the pussy trap or falling for NAWALT.
My bro back in the day was smarter than that when the wife (now ex of course) turned up with the guy she had sold my harley to, zero advance warning and he knew the only fucker taking my bike away from where I left it was me, and if he just said no she would call the po-lice to get “her” property.
I was smarter than that when I knew I was going away for a bit, so didn’t leave my only valuable possession of my own at “home” in her “care”
I wasn’t dumber when I hooked up with the psycho skank ho ex (not the same as the harley incident ex) it is just that the technology wasn’t fucking around then.
… by a friend, to explain exactly what is going on with a current FWB
(I should explain, in the spirit of full disclosure, there is a reason for his question, this FWB has come a lot closer to my affections than the usual pump and dump material, for the purpose of this post we will call her “Julie”)
“uuuh, it’s a wimminz, innit…” was my reply.
He laughed and said you don’t get off that easy, I want you to be charitable and play devils advocate and argue in her favour.
“You mean blue pill?” I say
“Nope, I mean red pill, but on an individual level, like you’re a cunt because the wimminz have taught you that is what they want and how to survive them, so do the same for her, on an individual level, who taught her to be what she is?” he says
As always happens, we soon drifted off topic, but I woke up this morning and found myself still thinking about it.
The fact is, it was a good question, and it is a good question because it is a hard question, and it is a hard question because to answer it honestly, I will be forced to examine some of my own armour and learned reactions to the wimminz….
Imagine if you will a man living alone out in he wilderness, and imagine a wild dog floating around the man’s camp, sniffing for scraps, there are a few possible scanarios;
Group 1
Man shoots dog
Man chases dog away
Man stays in camp, dog stays outside camp 100 yards away
Man entices dog into camp.
Dog decides to walk into camp.
Dog decides to attack man
From options 4 and 5 above some further options pop up;
Group 1 option 1 is Jonathan Vass, as discussed yesterday, Group 1 option 6 is of course the FRA
Group 1 options 2 & 3 is the MGTOW theme…. I’m sure you can work out the rest.
Group 1 options 4 & 5 are the interesting ones though, because they involve contact between man and dog, and either option 4 or 5 can lead to any of the options in Group 2, and I’m sure you don’t need me to point out which is an analogy to what when it comes to men and wimminz…
But, if I am going to be truly honest with myself, which is where my friends question comes in, Group 2 option 3 is what we all seek, the dog bonding to us, always assuming it is a dog we like the look of in the first place… the love of a dog for his master.
The unquestioning love of a dog for his master.
To be fair, this is the kind of love men want to give wimminz, until they get the shit kicked out of them for their troubles, so we end up either cowed and tails between our legs niggerz or fuck it growl at everything and bite first chew later post wimminz men….
Which is my friends question, but it was sneaky, because it did not allow me to generalise all wimminz, but asked me instead to look closely at one individual dog, and judge that dog on its individual merits.
It’s doubly sneaky because it invokes the nostalgia and yearning for Group 2, Option 3, that thing we all seek, the companionship and love of a good dog.
It’s trebly sneaky because it makes me choose between actually coming up with a considered answer to his question, or simply chucking out a stock answer, AWALT, end of discussion.
It’s quadruply sneaky because it is not a challenge to AWALT, this individual wimminz is still AWALT, the question is, how did she come to be that way, and is it by choice, or was she as much a made thing as I am?
Notably, it is a man, and not a wimminz or a niggerz that poses such a question.
I realise that much of my though processes with wimminz involves a negative check-list or weighted score, quantity and quality of tramp stamp skank ho tats, check, she’s a skank ho.
I realise that much of the “slack” I give the more favoured long term FWB is simply no more than the absence of certain of these check-list items, wow, this bitch only has 84 of the 100 possible flaws, and only 6 of the 10 most serious red flags…
I realise that somewhere in my sub-concious, with this particular FWB, as well as a reasonably low score on the negative check-list, there are actually some things about her that I like and approve of…
So group 1 option 3 dog attempts to domesticate man, man looks at dog and grins, it’s a mangy cur of a mongrel bitch with plenty of bad habits and fleas, but… it makes the man grin.
The man’s friend sees this, and asks the man, why does this individual dog make you grin, it shares more in common with the other curs roaming around your camp than it has to set it apart from them… and what caused this individual dog to be the way it is.
It is a bloody good question.
It is a bloody good question because I cannot answer it without also answering the same question about myself, and not in a superficial way that I have, because I got accused of wanting to fuck my own kids up the ass by my psycho skank ho ex who also made an FRA against me for good measure… but in detail, what sort of man ignored the red flags with the psycho skank ho ex, and why, and how was HE made, and so on back in time….
All the way back to the pre-pubescent me who just knew various things, the sun rises in the east, water is wet, and one day you will grow up and fall in love and get married and have a family of your own and boys who will call you daddy.
I have been making a serious, possibly fatal in the longer term, mistake.
Take a 5 gallon pail of water and tip it out at the top of a slope, watch how it runs downhill, how obstacles and other things change the flow, you can never get the same effect twice, if you think so you ain’t looking close enough, that flow is life, my psycho skank ho ex is a large rock downhill of where I was tipped out into this world, and my serious and possibly fatal flaw was looking at where I am now, the pattern I have made so far, and assuming that that is pretty much it, this form has basically been determined.
I am the pinnacle of my evolution.
The flaw is that change only stops with death, so I must continue to flow downhill into the future and find new patterns and channels and obstacles, or I can die.
I did not HAVE to allow my psycho skank ho ex to do what she did, at the first touch of that obstacle in my life I could have rebounded and found another path, one that cut around her instead of one that washed over her.
I face the same choices in the future.
“Julie” the mongrel cur faces these same choices in the future, and the future starts now.
The man in the camp grins at “Julie” the mongrel cur, because she chose to do what 99% of the other mongrel curs who walked into camp did, but with variations.
The man’s friend asked the question, and the man is forced to conclude that some of those minor variations are that in this mongrel’s history are that it chose to rebound and find another path when it met certain obstacles…. unlike the man, who just assumed he was smart enough and tough enough to overcome… the cur yelped and ran away… who was smarter?
In 1988 I knew an alcoholic, nobody had any time for him, but he had respect for my father so I would talk to him and buy him the occasional beer.
He was an alky because he fucked up, married into a banking family, and blew it by drinking too much and becoming an asshole.
He said one thing to me that I have never forgotten, and the older I get, the smarter it seems.
“When I was 20, I knew everything and my dad knew fuck all, when I was 30, I knew a fair bit, and my dad wasn’t as stupid as I thought, when I was 40, my dad knew a damn sight more than I thought he did.”
“Julie” the mongrel who has wandered into my camp?
Well, I’m sitting here laughing to myself, remembering my dad pissing himself at a scene in a Pink Panther film.
Sellers / Clouseau is harassing an organ grinder outside a bank, of course he completely missed the fact that the bank is being robbed, as he fixates on the organ grinder, does he have a permit etc…
Sellers “Do you have a li-cence for ze minky (monkey)?”
Organ grinder “Listen mate, I don’t take his money, and he doesn’t tell me what to play.”
That’s kind of the deal with the man in his camp and the mongrel.
But there is a story doing the rounds based on a TV dramatisation of a “true” story.
The “true” story is wimminz accuses man of repeatedly raping her, WHEN THEY SPLIT UP, so again historical allegations, man is remanded in custody awaiting trial for alleged rapes, man appeals and get released on bail, you can google him, Jonathon Vass if you like, he is now convicted of murdering her, but the alleged rape allegations lie on file and were not laid against him in court because it was deemed “Not in the public interest”
Given the eagerness with which historical claims of rape are pursued, this is odd.
As an ex FRA myself whose ex also only decided she had been raped repeatedly in the past at the point which she sought a separation and sole custody of our kids, you can guess my first thoughts on, this, and I say this merely in the spirit of full disclosure, I am biased against any automatic belief in any rape allegation, but even so, I am aware of that bias, but what I find REALLY interesting is this;
In here diary the ALLEGED victim, one Jane Clough, states, “I do not think Johnny will just lie back and let a jury find him guilty.” and later “I am worried about Johnny coming to find me and kill me when he is released from his sentence.”
I put it to you, dear reader, that these are not the words a woman who had ACTUALLY been raped would use in a private journal… remember, everything you think and write is based upon what you ACTUALLY recall and know to be true, not what you claim to be others to be true but which you actually recall to be completely false.
“LIE BACK AND LET A JURY FIND HIM GUILTY”
She has an actual first person recollection of events, actual events, I put it to you, dear reader, that if she had an actual first person recollection of being raped, she would see Mr Vass as being guilty, game over, and her worries would be over the jury finding the “right” verdict, or “seeing through” his denials, or “protecting other women” by taking him off the street….
I cannot conceive of any mental scenario where she would state that she was worried that the accused man would not simply lie back passively and LET a jury find him guilty, rather than mounting a strong and robust defence.
Similarly, I put it to you dear reader that if she had an actual first person recollection of being raped, Mr Vass being imprisoned would be seen as a just act, and she would have little of no concerns about him seeking her out “.. AND KILL ME WHEN HE IS RELEASED FROM HIS SENTENCE..”
On the contrary, these statements lend credence to my initial scepticism, that Mr Vass, like so many men, was simply falsely accused of rape and DV by an ex (now a pre-requisite for full legal aid to be awarded to the wimminz) and realising that his life was over decided he had nothing whatsoever to lose for killing her, for him the choice is going to prison for a crime he did not commit, or going to prison for a crime he did commit.
Clough herself claims Vass was “always” violent, yet despite the paper mentioning that he was banging two other wimminz while banging Clough (yet ANOTHER reason to suspect an FRA, revenge and spite by the cheated on wimminz Clough) neither of these other wimminz, nor any other wimminz in Vass’s life have come forward to corroborate this, and you KNOW they would have, and you KNOW po-lice went to them all and asked them this.
Which brings us back to the decision NOT to prosecute him for these alleged rapes, AFTER he is convicted on his own confession for murder, on the basis of it not being in the public interest.
The only “not in the public interest” scenario that I can come up with that is even remotely plausible is that there was not a snowball’s chance hell of convicting him, which brings about the interesting scenario where he did indeed commit a murder, but only after being falsely accused of rape and DV by his ex, and we can all see how THAT would play, not in the public interest indeed.
We must also remember that Vass, on his initial arrest for these alleged violent rapes, was remanded in custody, yet when he appealed this he WAS RELEASED ON BAIL, and there is ZERO fucking chance of that happening if there is even the merest fucking hint of any kind of violence in your history…. ZERO…. FUCKING…. CHANCE….
The only scenario that adequately answers ALL the questions posed here is that Vass saw himself being railroaded for a crime he did not commit further to an FRA by Clough, sees, as I did, that the po-lice and everyone else involved have no interest in the truth or justice or who really did what, certainly not prosecuting someone for the heinous and vile crime of making an FRA, and so he decided he had sweet fuck all to lose and took justice into his own hands.
This indeed is something that would not “be in the public interest” were it disclosed in court, because Vass would then be playing the justifiable homicide in self defence when the po-lice and state singularly failed to protect HIM from the malicious actions of another criminal, Clough…
Obviously, only Vass and Clough know the truth because only they were there, Clough is now dead and Vass is incognito behind bars, and any hope of any release at all is based upon him keeping his mouth shut and NOT proclaiming innocence.
Again, reading what is actually written, this wimminz was convicted of rape, because while the age of consent is 16, if there is any relationship of influence such as teacher, parole officer or step parent / girlfriend of the kids father, then the age of consent is 18.
Again, she was placed on the sex offender’s register.
And yet, the story is full of excuses for her, she “fell in love” it was a “sexual fling” when it was none of these things, it was fucking RAPE which is why she is convicted of rape and on the sex offenders register, but then we do need to tone it down to explain just why this convicted rapist and sex offender was given a SIX FUCKING MONTHS SUSPENDED SENTENCE….
You contrast this with the Vass / Clough story above and ask about the “pussy pass” and misandry in sentencing…
The most significant changes in anything usually happen in the final moments of the event in question in a catastrophic manner, think ships sinking or runs on a bank or the slide into war or even a business going bust… 99% of the action takes place in the last 1% of the time.
Nature itself and therefore humanity abhor both a vacuum and stasis, nature likes change and churn.
25 kWh per person per day is the breadline for a modern technological civilisation in a temperate climate, that includes food accoms heat transport tech the works… it also presumes you have already in place the appropriate physical stuff to supply that energy budget to… a 220 volt AC supply won’t keep you warm and alive unless you have an enclosure to bring it to and an electric fire to put inside that enclosure… this isn’t a theoretical availability in market terms, this is what 99.999% of the society have to have actual access to as a fucking minimum… think stall speed in an aircraft, fall below it and everyone on board takes the plunge.
There are no new lessons to learn, only old and forgotten lessons to re-learn.
You cannot un-ring a bell, or take scrambled egg and convert it back to eggs and milk and butter, once a new technology becomes intertwined with society, it costs more to separate it out again than it does to keep it going.
It is tempting to point at my car and say “we cannot go backwards”, but it would be wrong, because there is an implicit assumption that “my car” = “internal combustion engine” when the reality is “my car” = “personal transport module”
In reality I could give up “my car” and replace it with an electric vehicle, there are 86 currently available on Ebay UK, and 77 of them are either hybrids or toy racing cars put in the wrong category, so it is down to buying a brand new Smart ED for £18k or one of the new japanese jobbies such as a Leaf for £30+k… not really a valid proposition.
Then there is charging it, currently (sic) I’d have to open a window in the house, run an extension lead outside and across the pavement and plug it in that way, health and safety from the local council would be down on me like a ton of bricks.
So the problems to electric car adoption are the up front capital costs, which means £18k or £30k, which in real PRACTICAL terms means at £1.40 a litre for diesel means 2,800 (imperial) gallons of diesel for the smart or 4,700 (imperial) gallons of diesel for a Leaf, my current shed gets around 4/5 gallons per fill up and unless I am doing a run it gets filled up once a week, and since electric cars do not have the range to do a run… so 2,800 / 5 = 560 weeks motoring, which takes us to 2025 AD, or 4,700 / 5 = 940 weeks motoring, which takes us to 2031 AD.
Even this ludicrous proposition assumes that;
either of these cars will still be running and in once piece in 2025/2031
the batteries supplied will still be working in 2025/2031
no other technologies come on line by 2025/2031 to supercede them (batacitors etc)
I somehow surmount the running an extension cable across the pavement to charge and do not have to move house to get a driveway, or pay extra for an overnight parking / charging slot.
and all of these are VAST and very unsafe assumptions to make…
This is electric cars, but it gives is the CORRECT mindset for some futurology.
Back when I was a boy, there was an expression, “Hong Kong punya” which basically meant cheap crap made in Hong kong.
SOME early japansese stuff was quality, the Sony Tapecorder 500 thermionic valve reel to reel tape recorder (which I still have and which still works) and the Hitachi transistor radio with 14 transistors (itsaid this on the front) which ever survived going over the side of the boat into the south china seas at a beach… that and the early Minolta 35mm camera
Apart from that you bought Grundig, Rollei, Roberts, Quad, and t’were all fucking expensive kit. I still have a 1960’s era Rolex in stainless, and it carries more credibility than a 2012 patek phillipe, because back when it was new it really was something special.. and that air of true quality still holds to it, rather like a 1930’s Bentley parked alongside a 2012 one, sure, the 2o12 one does everything a lot better, but the 1930’s one oozes class and style.
We are back in those days, where the market has been saturated with cheap crap, there is nobody else to sell to and nowhere else to go for cheaper labour.
Given that the current social and economic models are based upon the “Hong Kong punya” method of commerce, we are in an end game, again, where lots of the huge brands that exported worldwide will come crashing down and factories will close, taking with them everyone in the supply chain, and the only things that will sell are genuine value and genuine quality.
When it comes to monetary shifts I have seen and lived through a few, I have seen currencies broken away from the gold standard, I have seen decimalisation here in the UK, I have seen the transition from one currency to another in various places, not just the Peseta and Franc and Lire and Drachma to Euro, and I have seen currencies rapidly devalued against others, by rapidly I mean by 40% overnight, and when that happens all work and contracts in progress stop.. dead.
I have seen the devaluation of currencies.
I can remember Roses Lime Marmalade going from 1 shilling and 6 pence, or 18 pence in old money, which is 7.5 pence in new money, to 9 pence in new money literally overnight with the change to new money.
I have seen the loss of Manufacturer’s Recommended Retail Price which meant that the 1lb jar of marmalade in the corner shop was no longer the same price in the supermarket down in the town… and look what that did for the tesco’s and the corner shops.
I have have lived off the grid, no mains power or running water or telephones.
I have seen the introduction of the STD trunk dialling phone system (all operator placed calls for long distance before that), and tone dialling, and the introduction of the microprocessor, transistor and indeed electronics.
I have seen the change from the right to be paid in cash every Friday, the change where having a chequeing bank account actually said something about you, the change from the maximum mortgage being 3.5 times your gross annual salary…
I have seen enough of people and politicians and businessmen and military types to appreciate that when the Prime Minister of Luxembourg, the longest standing democratically elected politician in the world, Jean Claude Juncker says “We all know what to do, we just don’t know how to get re-elected after we have done it.” he is stating a fundamental truism and problem with the modern western world.
So, predictions for 2013 and onwards.
2013 will be the start of the change, when we come to the stark realisation that in many areas what was true yesterday simply will not work tomorrow, and suddenly we will have to start working with what we actually have that is still working, and not some esoteric models of what should be working.
Essentially unlimited access to the latest greatest newest hong kong punya via the mechanism of essentially unlimited personal credit of one form or another (pay nothing but a monthly fee and a new phone every two years is credit by any other name) is going to just stop working.
Essentially unlimited access to housing credit (20+ year interest only mortgages and liar loans plus 8x earning multiples etc) is going to just stop working.
The present financial system and the present value of the banknote in your pocket has to change, not in an incremental way, but a large step change, we have absolutely no alternative but to go from here, to a place where;
The working man has a realistic prospect of paying off a mortgage in 20 years…
The bulk of the kWh value of every product cannot be tied up in the energy required to ship it from the point of manufacture to the point of consumption.. eg hong kong punya clothes and food and trinkets…
The current status quo regarding resource wars etc shifts to the new steady state.
The overburden of parasitic state workers is reduced by 75% or more, which means MASSIVE swings in the employment landscape.
The cost of transporting meat to and from work every day is eliminated for all non essential roles, the plumber has to travel, the worker sat at a computer does not.
The costs of producing and distributing both energy and data are addressed, we need to double or treble national grid baseline generation and distribution capacity to make things like electric cars viable, and we have to bite the bullet and call symmetric 25 mbit/sec (not “up to”, but actual) a fucking minimum standard for every household, or at least for 99% of all households.
We have to address efficiency across the board, from the thermal efficiency of our homes through the electrical efficiency of our lights and computers to the efficiency of transport.
We have to abandon, utterly, short term solutions, whether it being a company abandoning R&D in favour of shareholder dividends, or the stock market itself, if you buy stocks in anything you should be forced to KEEP them for a minimum of 5 years before you are allowed to sell them.
At one extreme we have the old Russian model, where toothbrush manufacture, down the the smallest design and manufacturing detail, was controlled by the state, at the other extreme we have algorithm driven high frequency trading where a piece of software can literally wipe out a company, an industry, a resource or a region as fast as the human eye can blink (Enron etc)
In our disdain for the Soviet model, we have gone to the other extreme.
It is not time for A reset, it is time for many thousands of things that together make up our modern western society, all of which are interlinked, to reset.
2013 is when these rests start, and like all dynamic processes, it starts so slow almost nobody notices, then it escalates and escalates and 99% of the apparent change happens in the last 1% of time.
2013 is not, for my money, where we will see that 1% peak activity, my bet is 2013 is the lower slopes of that hockey stick curve, 2014 or maybe 2015 will be the cusp, but then I could easily be wrong, it could come before summer 2013.
It is not if, but when.
The “when” will be when the Juncker’s in politics and finance and industry and military are no longer saying things like;
“We all know what to do, we just don’t know how to get re-elected after we have done it.”
but are instead saying
“We all know what to do, we just don’t know how to get re-elected if we do not do it fast enough and well enough.”
The problem is, the gap in perception between those two statements is vast, and everything I have said above fits in that gap, with room to spare.
“So take the morning after pill bitchez, not interested, not my problem, now, are you going to bounce up and down on my cock or what…”
This is one reality, once you wise up and reject the fiat currency capitalism and work ethic, you render yourself legally and financially immune to the whole child support racket… hell, I have a very good friend, a fellow FRA victim, who said fuck it and goes to the doctor once every three months to get a sick note for stress and anxiety caused by the FRA, he’s been doing it four, getting on five years now, living off the state, doesn’t work a lick, he says his is the only sane response to a state that amongst other things punishes men and fathers and rewards FRA’s and skank ho single mommies.
Here in Cornholeville, if you know where to look, you can tell that despite all the bluster and bullshit the ill winds of financial collapse are finally making themselves felt at the highest levels of the local state teat, the council and councillors.
Naturally with all these people the response is the same, shades of the two leased german executive saloons on the driveway being the last thing to go, while the fridge is empty, have to keep up the appearances of success at all costs.
And so it is that all the high profile very visible and very expensive stuff is all ring-fenced and untouchable, while on my regular evening drive to visit and check on an elderly relative what I first assumed was a dead street light has evolved into patches of urban darkness, the street lights near shops and junctions remain on, the other are going dark as early as 6pm
To be sure, each 400 watt sodium light turned off is a saving of say ten hours @ 400 watts = 4 kWh of electricity, which at current domestic prices = 4 x 14 = £0.56p
From the Cornholeville PR blurb about this, we have some 72,000 street lights costing some £3 million in electric every year, so perhaps a 10% reduction in this is £300k per year…. these are best case scenario numbers.
At £2 million a year each, the police helicopter would make a far greater saving, you just don’t need a fucking helicopter to catch burglars and twocers, it is a fucking scandalously profligate waste of resources.
You can ALWAYS do this, create a list of the shit that REALLY matters, road surfaces, signs, and furniture in good order, regular rubbish collection, maintenance of public lands and pathways, enforcement of local civil and planning regulations, some basic public services such as a library and you’re good to go, not much else that is important to the community, and lo and behold you just accounted for a 5% slice of the pie chart of local government expenditure, assuming you are allowed to see the actual figures that is….
The other 95%, that’s all shit, ring-fenced shit.
Wimminz be like this, tell em something has to give and they always start looking at the 5% of basic essential stuff, while the 95% of non-essential bullshit is ringfenced and simply not up for negotiation.
For X amount of money I can either go out and buy an iPhone5, or a separate washing machine and tumble dryer, hell, I can walk into my local bike shop and buy a brand new 2013 Triumph Bonneville (assuming I was daft enough to want one) for £99 a month, I know one wimminz paying that for a fucking Sky subscription, and another wimminz paying that for an iPhone5 + iPad on network subscription….
My washing machine and tumble dryer means all my clothes and bedding and towels and everything are always clean and fresh and dry, it has UTILITY.
For all its faults, a new bonnie would make me mobile and give me transport and allow me to commute Auf Viedersehn Pet style from the UK to Germany Monday to Friday to work, it has UTILITY.
To be fair, these are tough choices in some ways, I can sit at home with clean and dry clothes and a bonnie to get me to work, and no toys to entertain me or distract me or pass the time, but nevertheless this is life, you have to make choices, and the choices are not always as easy as these, and the future consequences not as easy to predict.
I faced such a choice when my own psycho skank ho he went nuclear and dropped an FRA on me to steal my kids away, suddenly all the “right” and “best” options were taken off the table, the only choices left sucked donkey balls and had impossible to predict future consequences.
God, Allah and Fate willing, my sons will reach the age of 16 and no longer be subject to the whims of the secret family courts, that is one of the more concrete future milestones in my life, between here and there everything is hazy and obscured and unknown, so making choices is tough.
Of course WHEN they reach 16 they will have their own agenda’s, and it is quite possible that psycho skank ho mummy has managed to instil a belief in a dead beat abusive dad who never gave a fuck about them and who they are better off without. Nothing I can do about that.
On the other hand, it is also possible they will decide to find this “daddy” and see for themselves what the fuck it is all about.
In THAT scenario it doesn’t take much brains to work out that there is a world of difference between them finding some broken down loser who has taken it up the ass from the skank ho and the state and cried in his beer, and them finding a man who when faced with a harsh choice decided that his sons would find a MAN, a man who could still be some use to them, teach them shit, hopefully help them catch up a little on the essential knowledge and skills they have missed out on.
But……………
I WILL NOT EVER LIE TO MY SONS, neither will I ever say anything other than this, no matter what the incentive, to anyone.
The above paragraph alone means that I will never seen my sons before the age of 16 (or maybe ever) because until that age those in control of their lives, psycho skank ho mummy and the secret family courts etc, will ensure that I do not…
“Mummy says you hurt her and you don’t love us and you left us all alone”
Should I be given or offered any hope whatsoever of seeing my sons, it will be on condition that I do not do anything but meekly accept such statements as fact, which means if I went along with the bullshit and effectively condoned the actions of psycho skank ho and the secret family courts et al, the person the boys might eventually be allowed to meet might well be their biological father, but he would not be a man, or anyone they could respect, or anyone ever able to help them… nor would his word be worth a damn when he did say “I love you Son”
Tough fucking choices for a man and a father in 2012 AD, and I am only one of hundreds of new men each fucking day drawn into the machine and faced with these choices.
While I am not incarcerated, my doors have locks but I hold they keys, my rooms have light switches on the inside, and I can come and go as I please, I have much in common with the wrongly convicted prisoner serving a very long sentence for a crime he did not commit.
I can continue to refuse to accept my guilt, and do the whole 16 years of hard time, or I can go along with what the machine wants, accept my guilt and get out on parole in three years with good behaviour.
In the latter case a man went into prison, and died there, and what came out was not a man.
I said above, I will not lie to my sons.
That means that when they are 16 they may walk up to me and say the following;
“So dad, what you are saying to me is that in order to preserve yourself, you basically abandoned me and my brother to mum and the courts.”
and I will have to say “Yes Son, because it is not a battle I could have won, I would have lost and gone to prison and made every lie they told about me true, and you and your brother would STILL be a ward of the courts and property of your mother.”
Do I feel good about that? Do I feel proud of it? Do I feel I have done my duty as a father? Do I feel that I have shown my love for my sons? etc etc… fuck no.
It’s a gamble, your mother and the state pointed a loaded gun at my head, so I had to make a tough choice, and the tough choice is to give up all hope of being a father to you, ever, in the hope that in doing so I could at least teach you something worthwhile, how to be a man.
I don’t hope that you boys will ever love me, or ever like me, or ever want to spend time in my company, I haven’t earned any of that, and I am not going to give you any whiny shit about I wasn’t allowed to by your psycho skank ho mummy or the state.
I DO hope that you boys will see how a man acts when presented with truly horrible choices, and learn from that, and perhaps in time respect me a little for it.
I DO hope that you boys will grow up to say their dad was a cunt, but at least he was a man… and maybe feel a little pride that that same strength rests within you boys too.
Chances are, if it, whatever it is, makes you angry, it is a shit test.
Chances are, if your responses upon feeling that anger are to express your anger, calmly, quietly, verbally, and then walk away, you just aced that shit test, by doing the exact last thing they hoped you would do.
Having a slow fuse is pretty much essential for beating shit tests.
Having a stiff neck too, because this prevents you turning your head while walking away so you can go back and check on the results.
It’s pretty much baa baa black sheep time, you have to deliver your response and walk away, you can’t lead a horse to water.
This is all relevant stuff, because as you get older you accumulate experiences, and these experiences reflect back upon your demeanour and attitudes….
If your dad died on the 17th December 2000, your son died on the 18th December 2001, your best friend died on the 19th December 2002, your wife ran out on you on the 20th December 2003, and your dog died on the 21st December 2004 then right about this time of year you are not in a good frame of mind.
Any shit test life throws at you now is likely to unleash additional anger, above and beyond what the shit test itself incurs, and this is important, because you must only respond with the appropriate level of disgust that the shit test alone warrants, go over the top and you go at a stroke from aceing the shit test to failing it, abysmally…
Yesterday I talked about knowing what to do, but having to sacrifice something and not be able to keep it in order to actually do that thing, today I am talking about shit tests, and I want to round this off with a third thing, a quote attributed to St Francis of Assisi;
“Lord, grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change, he courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
And so as it happens late last night / early this morning today I am granted another shit test in life, this time from a wimminz with a cunt full of my cum.
In the knowing what to do and being prepared to sacrifice it, it is a case of telling her that her shit test was insulting and demeaning and angered me, and walking out, and not keeping my access to a total slut bod with monster tits and a tight cunt.
In the shit test sense it is a case of allowing my righteous anger to flare, controlling it so it never gets past my eyes and tone of voice, and listening to that red pill that is the righteous anger in response to unjust treatment, and reacting accordingly, but with dignity and justice and maintaining the moral high ground.
In the St Francis sense it is knowing that I cannot change the nature of the wimminz, having the courage to walk away from the poon, and being smart enough to know which one is useless wheel-spin burning up my tyres, and which one gets me outta there lickety split.
As I tell my wimminz who hope to graduate from pump and dumpone night stands to FWB to long term FWB, being with me is an IQ test, if you aren’t smart enough to want, of your own volition and by your own efforts, to be with me, then you failed the fucking IQ test and you are no use to me.
Me trying to be nice to them, me trying to accommodate them, me pandering to their whims, all just turns into counter-productive effort, I enable their bad habits while simultaneously weakening my own moral position.
When a child misbehaves and stamps its feet and throws a tantrum the worst thing you can possibly do is reward that behaviour by telling the child you love them, or that they are beautiful, or special, or lovely.
You have to chastise them and explain the error of their ways.
There HAS to be an accounting, there HAVE to be consequences for transgressions, there MUST be a net mean worth that is affected negatively by negative actions on their part, and positively by positive actions on their part.
In the land of the blue pill here will be much gnashing of teeth and pulling of hair, but by doing this you risk losing the very wimminz you say is potentially so good for you.
On the contrary, all I am losing is the ILLUSION of this putative good wimminz, if she was genuinely good, then she would see the justice and truth and fairness in my position, and amend her own behaviour and attitudes, and show empirically by direct experimental proofs that she is indeed as good as she is made out to be in my dreams.
I was 17 and desperately in love with a very hot, very special, very sexy motorsickle, my dad came along to look at it, and basically found every single fault with it, and shattered my dreams and illusions and fantasies.
It was a tough fucking pill to swallow, but the old bastard was RIGHT.
I lost my faith in that particular bike, (Benelli 6 with 3,000 miles) but I retained my faith in motorsickles in general, and in my father in particular.
The irony here is the red-pill motherfuckers like me who have zero time for the wimminz and niggerz of the world, are the very ones most likely to keep faith with the real women, and the real men, should we encounter them.
On that day that my dad trashed the Sei he just trashed bikes owned by assholes who rode everything like they stole it, and consequently taught me to feel compassion for every motorsickle and car I did subsequently own…. even to this day I am the only fucker who around here who goes out in December, starts the car at idle and runs it at 750 rpm until I see the temperature gauge start to move.
All I ever hear is people telling me I am either lucky or good with vehicles, because I buy cars for less than a thousand euros in today’s money and drive them for three or more years, doing essentially no work apart from fluids and filters and pads…
A vehicle that has been owned by someone who rode it like they stole it can only ever be ridden like you stole it, and can never be relied upon to complete one journey, much less the return journey as well.
“I know what to do, I just don’t know how to do that and ___________”
Where the blank is “keep getting laid”, or “keep my husband” or “keep my job” or “keep my baby” or in fact KEEP anything.
Personal sacrifice, or rather lack of any personal sacrifice, trumps everything else, especially doing the right thing.
I had a fairly serious girlfriend some years back who wouldn’t TIUTA, her reasoning being she had tried it once with some other guy and hated it, fair enough, but the look of disbelief on her face some time later when the subject of marriage was raised was priceless, as I explained, marriage is all about personal sacrifice for the greater good of the marriage itself, you think there aren’t a whole bunch of things about marriage that I hate as a man… but would sacrifice enduring anyway for the greater good…
And so here we are, three weeks to Christmas, and good will to all men… and the three bears, and that was a fucking fairy story too…
The reality is a long term FWB started to get possessive, so kick to the kerb time, and a couple of short term FWB’s start to get demanding, so kick to the kerb time, and the hookup scene generally has gone a bit “black friday” with manic wimminz on the prowl for the “right” kind of man to tuck into the Christmas turkey with, show off to a few friends and relatives, and see in the New Year with.
When I got too old for toys and Christmas and shit, the wimminz always said Christmas was for the kids, then I grew up some more and got force fed red pills like a foie gras goose, and realised that fuck no, Christmas is exclusively for wimminz.
Not just “for wimminz”, but for wimminz emotional validation and sustenance.
See, like the long term FWB above, it may be Christmas in three weeks, and New Year’s in four, but it is Valentine’s in ten weeks, and all the wimminz know they need some time to work on a man to get him eating enough blue pills to be ready to drop on bended knee come Feb 14th and spring for that ring.
See, like the long ago serious girlfriend above who refused to TIUTA, as I said to her after we parted, or rather as we parted, when she had one last go at the “It is such a shame we didn’t work it out and get married” speech;
“When you denied me access to your ring, you also denied yourself access to a ring from me”
Naturally enough at this point she grudgingly granted me access to her ring… I knew it was a one off deal, and I knew what was expected in exchange, so I fucked her up the ass and then dumped her… in hindsight I look at that more naive me and wince… that could so easily have been followed by her dropping a dime on me to the boys in blue and making a false allegation…
In that instance, I knew what needed to be done, keep myself safe and free from her, but I did not know how, by just walking away and sacrificing my desire to fuck her up the ass, I didn’t know how to do the right thing, and keep the thing I wanted, so I ended up doing the wrong thing.
And on that note I have a man messaging me and asking me to fuck his wife like a dirty slut in all her holes… now there is a man who is burying doing the right thing, in order to keep access to the thing he wants… he isn’t even questioning the universal truth here.
By doing so, you render BOTH yourself AND the thing you want to keep worthless and tainted and iniquitous.
“There is a connection here. None of my chums would do business with Mobile Phone Pushy Token Memememeee Woman if they could help it: their view in two out of three cases is that life’s too short for arseholes, and if people want more than they offer, they’re politely invited to look for it elsewhere. The third person (a woman, as it happens) takes a more pragmatic view: she simply charges them more – which, she argues, is perfectly fair. I’m inclined to agree. We not only get what we pay for in this life, quite often we pay for what we think we ought to get. Assumed entitlement comes expensive – as indeed it should.”
I have highlighted in red text the real red pill nugget at the heart of this.
Jon, the blogger, was talking about three friends who are running small self employed businesses and making a living by the simple tactic of being honest.
To MY mind, #3, the wimminz, is just being a wimminz, and is being anything but honest.
When in the same situation myself, I have always said the following to the MPPTM wimminz, niggerz and other assorted assholes who wanted to give me shit;
“My job is to do x, for this I charge x per hour. My rate for eating shit is 50x per hour. Now, you choose which it is to be”
Which of course always ends up with me walking out within 5 minutes, which is exactly what I knew would happen when I say it.
THAT, is being honest.
Not saying anything and charging them extra for being a cunt is valid in many ways, but it is not honest.
Honesty is when you tell them UP FRONT that you are going to charge them extra for being a cunt.
I have my own small self employed business, I am in hours worked terms radically under employed… to be strictly honest, I should be doing another 5 hours a week in financial terms, but that does not stop me turning down two to three jobs for every one I take, and the jobs I turn down I do so with honesty and candour.
“You won’t want to pay me what I will have to charge you in order to do a good job, and I am not prepared to do a bodge job for what you would want to pay me, but in any event here is some free and good advice about what I would do if I were in your situation.”
It means I only ever worry about being a bit short of dough, I never worry about getting a bad name or a bad job coming back to haunt me and cost me money.
I’ll give an analogy that anyone reading this can relate to.
Desktop computers and servers are a lot easier to fix properly than laptop computers.
There is, fundamentally, one reason and one reason only that this is true, desktop computers and servers are built to STANDARDS, such as ATX, PCI, AGP, RGB/VGA, USB, etc.
Laptops on the other hand are custom, I cannot open up a Dell and a Vaio and simply swap the motherboards over, there is no standard such as ATX, they are all unique.
Thing is, there is NO VALID ENGINEERING REASON FOR THIS TO BE SO.
Most of you are probably familiar with ATX, and perhaps mATX, but these are just two mainboard standards out of many, PC104 anyone?
Similarly a 12.1″ 4:3 aspect ratio laptop screen, it could EASILY be made a standard, both in physical dimensions as well as mounting points and electrical connections, irrespective of resolution or refresh rate or anything else.
What DROVE the revolution in personal computing was the foresight of IBM and others in defining these first physical standards.
What has STAGNATED and is KILLING the revolution in personal computing is the abandonment of this and embracing of the bad old days.
In the real bad old days before the industrial revolution there was no such thing as a standard screw thread, each bolt and nut was unique, and if there was any interchangeability it stopped at the factory level.
After the industrial revolution things got better, but there were still issues, yank kit turning up in Europe with JIC pipe fittings where the local shops only had BSP or maybe NPT fittings in stock was always fun, and extra work… and it produced some real howlers… for a few years in spain and italy you could buy bolts with BSF or Whitworth threads and shanks, and nearest Metric millimeter size heads for use with metric spanners and socket sets….
Of course when you come across these things fitted and all you can see is the head, you start swearing and asking what cunt put a 12mm metric bolt in a fucking Gardner engine….
And yet, this is what we are going back to (and this incidentally is the real reason I hate Apple, their engineering is all DELIBERATELY proprietary, and therefore by definition atrocious) a world in which nothing is standard any more.
You see, when you go to a real engineer, and you ask them to do something foolish, they will tell you to go somewhere else, but when you go to one of these wimminz and niggerz that call themselves engineers, they will just charge you more and give you what you asked for, with no thought as to the future consequences for the industry.
By using a standard port such as mini USB, there is almost nowhere that I can go with my Samsung Galaxy S3 ***** and not be able to charge the fucker up, even without carrying my own mini to full USB lead.
By using a proprietary port like crapple does, there is almost nowhere you can go with an iphone and charge it up, and I know personally of at least three wimminz with iphones who have found themselves in hospital with a severely ill child and a dead iphone, and no way to recall various contact numbers.
I know several “road warriors” who carry a plethora of charging and DC supply devices, all with different voltages, OR the same voltage but different proprietary plugs.
A STANDARD is the engineering term for HONEST, and it only applies to the things explicitly defined by the standard in question, so any ATX mobo will fit in any ATX computer, but chances are the 50 buck MSI board isn’t a patch on the 300 buck Supermicro board, and as referred to by the explicity of the standard, which does NOT mention CPU sockets, there is no guarantee to you swap ALL the components over from one ATX board to another.
Honesty is of course always the enemy of those who want as big a slice of the cake as possible, for the least effort possible.
Which brings us right back to the quote at the top from Jon Ward’s blog, what is interesting is that Mr Ward spent his working life in marketing, so as we see that explains his congenital inability to spot that the wimminz in his trio of “honest tradespeople” does not belong in the same company or group as the two honest tradesmen.
Laptops are not a pain in the ass to repair because Johnny Ive is a style guru or because they HAVE to be that way to be those dimensions and weight and have those outside appearances and layouts, laptops are a pain in the ass to repair because they are explicitly NOT based on standards, and as such they are not honest in engineering terms, and are a regressive step.
The other thing about standards is you have to choose APPROPRIATE ones…
There is no valid reason on this planet for there to be at last count some 50,000 proprietary and unique wheel sizes for automobiles, and for there to be no basic set of common standards…. I don’t know about now, but for many years all the trucks Henry Ford made in Europe were all metric fasteners, except for the wheel nuts, which were BSF, because they kept the fucking wheels on where the metric thread did not, BSF being a far superior thread.
A LOT of the economic pain we are suffering is a direct result of this avoidance of standards.
Indeed, the whole concept of a fiat monetary system is avoidance of a standard.
It’s going to get worse.
======================================
*****Disclaimer, while I admire and like my SGS3, and while the common mini USB interface is great, I would no rather repair it than an iphone or ipad, the internals are all devoid of standards, except for the SIM card and mini SD card sockets.
