You’ve probably heard the talk, you can take it from me it is true, have seen it with my own eyes, the unbranded unlabelled unidentified yes they really are black, boxes, sitting right there on the backbone for at least three of the major backbone / network providers.
These boxes can potentially tap into anything and everything they are connected to, which essentially means they can for all practical purposes tap into 100% of network traffic, irrespective of source, destination or protocol.
I had this discussion with someone, they were saying GCHQ is in reality no different to, for example, Google, in their ability to slurp data.
I conceded the point, even though it isn’t factually correct, for the sake of argument, and countered with this;
“Yeah buddy, give me a call when Google operate their own police force, courts, prisons and control all the laws in the country I reside in….”
And that really is the point.
Google are not going to make a case on incomplete data, because the fact is these boxes and what they are connected to CANNOT store everything that passes by for a number of years, that is like building a fucking great lake on a river, what they are is a bridge across the river that you can drop nets or buckets anywhere you like, or sluice gates to divert flow, so chances are the data is incomplete, in effect, call records, you sent 2 emails to Mr X, and Mr X sent two emails to you, we no longer have the content, or the greater context in which they were sent, and since WE now know Mr X is a crazed raghead paedo terr’rist, 2 + 2 = 22, so you muct be one toooooo… haul his ass off to jail, via court and a “fair” trial… har de har…
Today BT, who are one of the telco’s hosting these black boxes, changed their system, if you want to access, for example, a perfectly legal swinging site, you must call them and ask for the adult filters to be turned off.
You just made the first prong of the case against you, you DELIBERATELY sought access to whatever it was at some point in the future, say, Mr X’s blog.
I proved this point some years ago to some stuck up assholes, they were convinced that only those who have something to hide etc.
I created a small web page, in that page I embedded photo… this is it.
It is the album cover from Scorpions, Virgin Killer, I bought this when it came out in a record shop in London, in fact it was the first Virgin Megastore.
Now, strictly according to the letter of the law, this is an obscene image of child pornography, but then so are the pics of my kids naked at bath-time etc, given that this was an actual album cover on sale in the UK and legally bought, and given that the purpose of putting it here is for example, not sexual gratification, you’re actually pretty safe.
The point was, when you loaded this particular blog page, you click a link, you don’t know the actual content BEFORE you click the link.
However, in law, just because of the way your computer and the internet works, you just “made” another copy, stay on this page with the firefox reload page plugin set to 6 seconds and you are, in law, “making” 10 kiddie porn images an minute, or 600 an hour, and that is all the newspaper headlines will read.
SICK PERV MADE 600 VILE KIDDIE PORN PICS PER HOUR!!!!
But, things being what they are, at least you can see the fucking image, even if you got tricked into downloading it, so you can flush your temporary internet files after navigating away from this blog page, and you should be safe enough. (except for GCHQ knowing you visited this page 600 times an hour)
But, what I did in the example I am talking about was not displaying an image with an original size of for example 1024 x 768 at a page size of 512 x 380, no, what I did was take an original image that was 800 x 600 pixels, and displayed it at 1 x 1 in the page.
It looked like this.
The “this” being, specifically, “.” the period / full stop that came after “this”
In that scenario, nobody knew they had download the image, nevertheless, they had, therefore, legally, they had “made” it also.
They only knew when I published the full size image, and told them to look in their browser cache / temporary internet files for it by name… then they found it…. then they got seriously pissed off… at ME…
Of course, any seekrit black box sitting on the backbone that can dip into absolutely any traffic and look and see what is there, can also dip into traffic and alter it, either by simply re-routing it as in last weeks major BGP routing hack that sent a bunch of USA guvvmint traffic on a long trip via Iceland before going back to the USA mainland, or, by altering it or injecting content into it.
Is this gonna be your defence, Mr Nobody? That you did not do X, that you are in fact innocent, so it must have been done by the black boxes, that legally do not exist, in an effort to frame you…?
Someone sent me a link a few days back, some blurb on reddit about some skank who was happily in a relationshit with this guy, until one day she suggests they have an “open relationshit” so she can fuck other guys, this guy says fine, packs his shit, leaves, and blocks her in every way possible, she spends days cwyyying and trying to get him back.
Thing is, the thing *none* of the commenter’s got, though they did all correctly explain what prolly motivated the guy to bail, not that she was capable of listening and understanding, the thing is, they bought into her version of events where she just raised the subject.
Raising a subject requires forward planning, I have yet to meet a wimminz actually capable of this, but met many who know how to mimic it to fool men, but question them on the details of this alleged forward planning, and it all vanishes into a puff of thin air and an angry expression.
“We have been together 5 years now, so how about we have an open relationshit for a bit and start fucking other people?”
This, on paper, and as expressed verbally, makes it sound like forward planning… this is what she claims she said.
Since, as *I* know, wimminz are incapable of forward planning, what she was really saying was….
“We have been together 5 years now, and I am getting some extra cock, and I want your approval for this to continue.”
*UTTERLY* different, and, I suspect, the other side of the story, that we haven’t heard, from the guy in question, will include an awareness of this second, true, version.
Without exception in the swinging scene, couples into cuckolding include a wimminz who describes herself as a feminist and who quite often also described her guy as a feminist also.
Now I know that on the face of it there appears to be little in common between my assertion that wimminz are incapable of forward planning, and my observation that most wimminz in cuck couples identify themselves as feminazis, but bear with me.
Forward planning requires some sort of grip on reality, children say “I will invent something and make ten million” or when asked about lack oxygen on Mars they will “invent something to make oxygen from the martian atmosphere so men can breathe it”, which is all very well, and sometimes these things are, technically, possible on a lab scale, but to bring them up to world scale you need (to make a practical electric car) a battery no bigger than two cubic feet that will hold the energy equivalent to 75 kWh and which can be made at a rate of several thousand per day and which can be made for less than 100 bucks a pop, suddenly it doesn’t work.
Kids, though lack of knowledge and experience, lack the necessary grip on reality.
That’s why kids will invent “something”, where “something” is nothing more than a required mental bridge to get from point A to point B… it doesn’t need to have any substance or detail of its own, it is a “something”… good enough.
I see the same thing with wimminz, oh, I’m going to open a cup cake shop, I’m just off to the bank to borrow 25k to start my new “business”… so I ask questions.. such as OK the rent and light and heat and wages and shit is 500.00 a week, cup cakes won’t sell for more than 0.75 each, of which 0.25 is ingredients, so 500 / 0.50 = 1,000 which is the number of cup cakes you need to sell, every week, abso-fucking-lute minimum, just to break even, much less make a profit…. then dig into how many you can actually make in an hour on the premises with the kit you have, and how many you can actually sell, as in how long it actually takes to sell one cake, pick, wrap, ring up on till, make change, plus not all hours of opening are equal, workers morning tea break you’ll sell more per hour than the last hour before you close…
So, you have to sell 52,000 cup cakes a year to break even, 75, 000 a year to pay off your start up loan in 3 years, and 100,000 a year or 2,000 a week to pay yourself a wage good enough to give you the lifestyle you aspire to.
2,000 a week is 400 a day, which is (if you are open 8 hours) 50 an hour, which is one every 72 seconds, and it takes 120 seconds to pick, wrap, ring up and make change…. so basically your dream is unattainable even under ideal theoretical circumstances.
At which point **I** become the enemy.
I haven’t done anything, except invoke reality.
It is this inability to grasp reality that lies behind wimminz inability to do any genuine form of forward planning, and this same inability to grasp reality that lies behind wimminz in cuck relationshits claiming everything in the garden is both happy and healthy and perfectly normal and sustainable, thank you very much.
When, instead of approaching things as they are marketed, you take the “open other end” approach, and START from the premise / observation / assumption that wimminz suffer from an innate inability to grasp reality as a part of the thought process, things suddenly start to look very different indeed, and you yourself become open to the idea that THIS idea has ramifications and consequences that reach much further than you first assumed, and go much deeper than you first assumed.
It goes deeper than that.
If wimminz suffer from an innate inability to grasp reality as part of the thought process, then *NO* thought that wimminz have can be trusted in any subject matter dealing in any way with reality.
Want someone to write a fantasy book about vampires with 10″ cocks? No problem.
Want someone to make practical financial or business decisions? Run the fuck away.
Recent EU directives that 40% of all board room positions must go to wimminz make entirely as much sense as a directive that a further 40% of all board room positions go to children under the age of 8.
Which makes you ***really*** pause and consider, when you look at a cuck husband, this is a creature that has elected to subjugate himself before a child…. not with caveats or exceptions or a veto, but absolute submission.
Now that we have established our scorn of cuck males…. I have to tell you, married males are no better, just removing the sexual aspect from the table doesn’t make everything else THAT much better, they still have a child making 99% of their decisions for them.
Which brings into sharp relief a memory I have of many years ago now, being sat in my brother’s house one morning, with one child, his then wife, asking the other children what they wanted for breakfast, like the children were adult patrons of a restaurant, and of course the three children chose three separate meals, and only one stuck with their first choice, two changed their mind after their first order was accepted.
Well, to me what leaped out was not three brave and heroic and genius wimminz entrepreneurs, but…
one wimminz who has a “business” making washable shoes for kids, a business so successful she is still living at home
one wimminz who has a “business” running a crèche for dogs, up to 20 dogs a day and two full time staff and London premises and rates etc so if she is making 1p profit per day I am a fucking monkey’s uncle
one wimminz who has a “business” making bags and yoga wear, which has yet to earn penny one, but hey, hubby is supporting her.
and the big question, just what alleged “talents” did these worthless fucks have that caused Lehman to hire them for 40k plus p.a. in the first fucking place, and can nobody else see the connection between hiring worthless fucks on huge salaries and then subsequently going fuckedcompany.com???
I mean, seriously, Lehman’s was a fucking BANK…. if your career is in banking and your employer goes tits up I expect to see you start a new career as a self employed accountant for small business, or something along those lines, not open a fucking cup cake shop.
In any event, none of these fuckers is exactly what I personally would put in a national newspaper and point to as a success story, dig as deep as you like, companies house website if you like…. there is no meat here.
Lehman’s went bust in 2008, it is now 2013, five fucking years on, and what do these bitches have to show for it that is worthy of exposure in the national press?
Five fucking years, thousands of Lehman’s employees thrown to the kerb, tens of thousands of other employees thrown to the kerb as a result of the Lehman’s crash, and *this* is what they come up with, three worthless cunts grinning at the camera like they each just sold the film rights to Harry Potter, which you can diss as much as I do, but at the end of the day at least the authoress of that series of books did clean up financially by any reasonable metric you care to employ… however, such events are lottery wins, not the daily grind of small entrepreneur makes good, that this shit article was supposed to be about.
Alan Sugar, for example, is an interesting guy, he will tell you himself that he can’t actually tell you what to do to make a million in business, but he can talk all day about what NOT to do… for example after he made money floating Amstrad on the stock market he ended up handing a wad to Nomura, and it was only some time later after the Yen tanked and he lost the lot that he learned that the investment banker;
was not liable for anything, including losing all his money
earned his money on commission by buying and selling stock with Sugar’s money, so he did loads of buying and selling.
Which is why and how Sugar got into commercial property, Amstrad made him a ton of money, so he went out and bought Bond Street in London and has been sat back ever since with never an empty shop with no tenants and no revenue.
But of course, nobody ever wants to hear Sugar’s advice on what not to do, they all want him to tell them what to do…. flatly ignoring what he is trying to tell them.
I empathise strongly with Sugar, whether it is my first career, Marine Engineering, or my current one, Cisco Kid, the best advice I can always give anyone is what NOT to do….. and nobody wants to listen.
Nobody wants to listen because if they did, they would not be able to do that which they have already set their minds upon doing, and that is the real secret.
*what* these three worthless cunts have set themselves up to be doing, it isn’t what they are actually doing, they don’t want to, for example, be a baker and confectioner, they want to be a successful businesswoman running a well known and profitable cup cake shop.
They want to bypass the tough and dirty bit and get straight to the top, I want it all, and I want it now…. and in a sense, I can’t blame them too much, after all, this is exactly essentially what all three were handed 5 years ago when they joined Lehman’s, in their own words… but overnight I went from penniless student to highly paid professional. The package was jaw-dropping: a rapidly rising £40,000 salary, a fully funded MBA and brilliant bonuses…. which says it all..
And back in the day every one of these worthless cunts, and there were TENS OF THOUSANDS OF THEM across the city, and a large proportion of them still have jobs, the hammer has not fallen yet, inspired thousands of other wannabe entitlement pwincesses (and pwinces) to aspire to the same.
And these three worthless cunts, they aren’t exactly living in a cardboard box under the motorway giving blow-jobs to donkeys for a 99c burger, they are all wearing shit eating grins and getting international exposure in a newspaper as successful entrepreneur wimminz.
It’s not that surprising really that so many still dream… but then again, that is the purpose of the MSM, and articles like this, to keep the dream alive.
Otherwise they would be reporting on actual truth, like the increasingly desperate state of affairs in places like Greece, where the neo-nazi party is now the outright leader in the polls, and ever the middle classes are siding with them, because of their sole policy, Greece and Greeks first, and there is no second place… and there is no mention whatsoever of this, or any other worthwhile news, in this so called news paper, anywhere.
If I wanted to be informed, I might as well read Hello magazine.
Same could be said for the BBC news website, or indeed any of the other MSM channels…
It’s 2013, the age of the internet, and I have to go and look and bypass all the dross to find any real news about what is happening in a country not very far away at all, a country I have ridden to by motorcycle more than once.
99% of the human population, and 100% of the wimminz, prefer dreams to reality.
Dreams are “Yeah, I know if I tell the bitch what I am really thinking I stand a 0% chance of getting laid, so I’ll PLAY THE GAME” .. which in other words is marketing.
Meanwhile the reality is “Bitch, if your lifetime cock count exceeds three, OR you have kids by another man, you are at best pump and dump cum bucket material, game over”
Had a skank today tell me she was pissed because she spent years trying to work and pay her way and raise her kids alone after her divorce, and she was always fucking broke.
Said to her, what the fuck did you expect, what the fuck did you think was the purpose of destroying the male work environment by bringing in wimminz and making them “equal”, divide and conquer the family.
Where the fuck have all the good men gone, y’all fucking killed em off, because the only thing that kept a good man good was having a wife and kids at home to be responsible for and to put a roof over their fucking heads, take that away….
Dreams are my ideal man is six foot four with a cock like a pony and earns enough to buy a new Ferrari every year.
Like Bridget, I did consider joining a dating agency. I went for an interview, where they try to find out what you’re looking for in a man and what you have to offer. ‘Gaah!’ as Bridget would say.
I don’t do fat men, I told the Dating Lady. It’s one thing growing old and podgy with your husband of 25 years, but unthinkable that romance could begin at 51 with a Pavarotti double.
Age range 45 to 60, I told her, and a real 60, not a fibbing octogenarian with a wig.
Race? Don’t care. Religion? Ditto. Wealth? I just want someone at home in his own skin who has a job he enjoys – for all I care he could be a carpenter, I lied.
Dating Lady put down her pen and said: ‘You’re not giving me much to go by here to match you up. Tell me what your dream man would be.’
So I said he’d be a successful business-man in his mid-50s, divorced two years ago. He and his wife had drifted apart after the children grew up.
He was about to tell her he wanted a divorce when she told him she’d fallen madly in love with a millionaire and didn’t want a penny of his money. They parted as friends and he kept the house and his pension.
Dating Lady said that as a potential dating pool of men, it was the size of a goldfish bowl.
Straight from the whore’s mouth… and look at her hands boys…
But the dating bitch was only half right, the potential dating pool is the size of a goldfish bowl, but the pool of wimminz chasing the contents of that goldfish bowl is the size of the pacific, and all the fucking ice caps are about to melt too.
Maybe the problem is that they find out you’ve written several chronically insecure, self-pitying, attention-seeking articles in a national paper about the lengthy list of men you’ve racked up.
most of us want someone around our own age, who is single, sexy and solvent, – So still looking for that meal ticket? Luckily men of that age (like me) have learnt sense and so avoid women like you like the plague. Indeed all men of your age want is just sex as well. Red arrow away ladies.
Women of Amanda’s generation have brought their relationship failures upon themselves and it seems women from the younger generations are only going to follow in their footsteps.
Right here we can see reality vs dreams, she still has the dreams, and the (male) commenter’s have the reality.
The thing about reality vs dreams is sooner or later reality comes around and kicks you in the teeth, and the longer you avoid it the harder the kicking you get.
Miz (sic) Platell’s kicking has barely fucking started, with the spaghetti monster’s grace she has another 30 or 40 years of it to go.
And let us not forget that this bitch is at the apex of what wimminz can achieve, for 99.999% of the female population things are much much much worse.
Miz Platell don’t exactly look good as it is, but just imagine what the bitch would look like if she was living on benefits and had to dress herself for £20 out of Primark / Wal-Mart
But the fact is even if she was stood up in fifty bucks worth of clothes and makeup and shoes all in, she would still be worth it ****IF**** what she brought to the table was an offer to do the housework, do the laundry, do the cooking, be a lady in the street and a whore in the bedroom, and to be 100% loyal and obedient to me.
THEN she’d be a valuable commodity able to choose her man, but no, dreams still get in the way of reality, even a pretty good reality with only the odd bone of contention, the dreams will always win with these cunts.
DMJ just did a piece about testosterone, I don’t agree with all his conclusions, and personally I think he is a bloody fool to dose himself with the shit, in exactly the way I was as a younger man when I would quite happily imbibe any mind altering drug handy… address the issue by stopping doing whatever is lowering your testosterone, and starting doing whatever you are not doing that would boost it…. I’m reminded of one smart female doctor who got cancer, so the other doctors wanted to do chemo and irradiate her lymph nodes with X rays, her response was that her cancer wasn’t caused by a fucking lack of X rays, so how would X rays cure it, so she plowed her own furrow and it went into remission, plus she never had any of the consequences of chemo.
But the real point is in this article he links to Heartiste’s then and now photo essay, and points out how none of the then guys look like faggots, and all of the now ones do…
The “then” guys fucking worked motherfucking hard for a living.
When you spend 30 years of your life clenching your jaw and squinting your eyes to get through the WORKING day, y’all end up with one of those faces.
As an aside here I think DMJ has (apparently) bought the blue pill on testosterone, it isn’t a macho chemical or an aggression chemical or a misogynistic chemical, it is just one necessary chemical in a soup that is a human being, and like all the other necessary chemicals it has to be in balance.
There are LOTS of suspects for the change in then and now, then nothing came wrapped in pthalate containing plastic packaging, who is to say what is the cause, or even if it is any one thing?
I know of absolutely NO substance that can induce, all by itself, just by administering it, violence or rage or aggression in 100% of subjects.
I know of absolutely no substance (I am not a biochemist) that is a catalysts and ALL BY ITSELF produces any kind of change in 100% of subjects, every single thing I know of interacts with something else, and it is THAT which kills you.
Slipping back into engineering for a minute.
Our bodies have a natural reaction to acids, whether it is vinegar in a cut in your mouth or battery acid on your hands, and this reaction is 100% down to evolution, we have since we became swamp things that crawled out of the primeval oceans, become adapted to exposure to acids.
The opposite of acid is alkali, and one we all know of is sodium hydroxide, or caustic soda or lye.
While acids are fucking everywhere in nature, you can’t mine caustic soda anywhere, it doesn’t grow on trees, it isn’t produced by animals eating and shitting, so it is no wonder that the human body has no defences against it.
If I pour a strong acid on your hands it will burn. ouch!
If I pour a strong alkali on your hands it won’t burn or hurt (initially) it will just feel slimy and slippery… that is your flesh literally disintegrating.. the incredible melting man…
So basically, because we have been exposed to acids for millions of years, we have developed reactions to acids, because we have not been exposed to alkalis, we haven’t developed reactions, and most shop bought fruit and seeds are “washed” in sodium hydroxide, because it peels the outer layer and kills every mother fucking thing on that apple…..
mmmmm, nice juicy shiny apple, which again looks nothing like an apple eaten 100 years ago, then and now…. when I was a boy it was rare, but you COULD bite into an apple and get a mouth full of moth fruit-worm, I talk to people who are 25 or less and they literally do not know what the fuck I am talking about, so strong has been the supermarket buying power in produce production…
They are also usually wholly against cloning, but quite happy to eat a banana, and every banana ever sold in a western supermarket is a clone… again, that is a last century only phenomenon.
It doesn’t matter what the disease was, but only a couple of centuries ago a disease was identified because people who used one well in London died, and those who used surrounding wells didn’t, my dad (as an apprentice) put running water into my grandparents house, so again, running water in the house, there is another difference between then and now, and don’t forget, running water = central supply.
Before DNA was discovered, it was still there, doing its thing.
Before Atoms and Elements were discovered, they were still there, doing their thing.
We can look back and say how quaint, how primitive, how uncivilised, fancy using leeches to drain the ichors and humours, even if it was an advance on fire water earth and air, but nevertheless in *many* cases these barbaric practices continued for one reason and one reason only.
They worked often enough to get used again.
Somewhere, with some of the ancient practices and rituals and beliefs, there was often a grain of scientific truth, a grain of reality.
Today we have essentially two groups of people.
Those who think science probably knows at least 75% of everything these is to know on any given subject.
Those who think any given subject is un-knowable because we are not God.
That hasn’t changed, then and now, back then they thought they knew 75% of alchemy, which is who many tried to transmute lead into gold etc.
Then we learned it was impossible.
Then we learned you could do it, a few atoms at a time, at great expense and depending largely on random subatomic collisions.
In my own humble opinion, if the sum total of knowledge of human biochemistry is a ruler 1 metre long, where at one metre you could simply create on demand as precisely specified a human being as you liked, the guys with the leeches were at 2mm, Leonardo and his drawings took it to 3mm, and the finest we can do today is around 10mm.
In this environment, claiming to know the properties and effects of any compound is risible.
Nor do I buy into the natural = good and modern = bad argument, there are many potent natural poisons and carcinogens.
HOWEVER, my body at least has several million years of evolution which might be enough to trigger a vomiting reaction to an entirely natural product, but not trigger that reaction to a man made or factory processed version of that same product.
I dunno…
DMJ is on about testosterone, and estrogen in soy, maybe it is a simple as the difference between then and now is that now all the wimminz are permanently dosed up on steroid hormones.
Maybe it is as simple as DNA says women were made to have a functioning womb, and steroidal hormones fuck with that are turn them into wimminz, in effect, an illness that DNA is unable to treat as anything but an illness, and so it triggers other characteristics to make these “sick” wimminz unfuckable.
We live in a world where it is entirely NORMAL that something seemingly irrelevant like a minute parasite can trigger major psychological changes in the host, eg toxopasmosis making cat piss smell interesting and not terrifying, to mice….
Why cannot deliberately dosing a walking womb with something specifically designed to fuck up the working of that womb not wreak equal or greater changes in personality?
Come on feel the noise. Girls Grab the Boys, We’ll get Wild, Wild, Wild…
Maybe the signal is not lost in the noise.
Maybe the signal is the noise, we just aren’t smart enough yet to decode it.
I just met some stupid skank who is going on a solo backpacking trip to Thailand, she is excited but one part of the deal that gets no thought or attention whatsoever is the flight over there.
When I was a baby it was called Siam, and the flight was three days, not so much because of the top speed and range of the piston powered DC-9 and Constellations and Super Connies of the day, (There were deHavilland Comets too, but not enough to run all the services) basically converted wartime bombers, but it was hugely expensive, so certain minimum levels of comfort and relaxation were required, and of course instruments weren’t that good, the flight navigator had to actually navigate, albeit with RDF assistance, so if you were flying London to Singapore it was two overnight stops in hotels.
The alternative was going by ship, I did that once too, 28 days journey time.
You could write a letter, par avion, on thin cigarette paper notepaper, often blue, and the envelopes had a red and blue pattern around the edge, and would take a week to arrive.
If it was really urgent you could send a telegram, that should get there in a day or so.
*BIG* businesses with offices around the globe by the late seventies had the Telex, think of it as a 50 baud point to point SMS.
We had one of the new fangled e-lec-tro-nic transistor (as opposed to thermionic valve) radios, it was a good one, it had a whole twelve transistors inside it, it said so on the front, and you could get long wave, medium wave, and short wave, (for the BBC world service) and of course it was all AM amplitude modulation, nobody had heard of frequency modulation.
We got our first TV in time to watch the moon landings, 425 line VHF band with a tuning dial and variable capacitor just like a radio, black and white of course…lol… and you could tell when any of the neighbours cars points and coil ignition systems needed a service…lol
We got a phone then too, you know, in our own house, in the hallway… I can still remember the number, 811, of course if you wanted to ring anyone outside the town you lived in you still had to dial the operator, (“Whitehall 1212” to be connected to scotland yard) as STD standard trunk dialling or direct dialling hadn’t come in yet, (it actually didn’t cover 100% of the UK until the late seventies) hell, the ability to direct dial local numbers without needing an operator to make the circuit was all new…
You could actually navigate by the phone lines, because the cross trees and insulators were always on the same side with respect to London.
When I went to school you got handed a little book of tables, log, sin, cos, tan, etc That and a pencil and a piece of paper was how you did your workings, if you needed to work faster you could use a slide rule, three digit precision pretty much, but in reality that was enough for most real world calculations.
This was all long long long before you actually saw the first pong game in the shops, or the first LED digital watches, or anything else to do with the silicon chip, which was still a pipe dream.
As a boy from the age of 12 onwards I made *many* solo and unaccompanied journeys comprising of a train from wherever I was in the UK to either Reading or London, grab a bus or a cab from there to Heathrow, find my flight, check in, board it and arrive at a destination half way around the world.
By *many* I mean when the then BOAC started their first jet services in the late fifties, even though 99.9% of the routes and flights were still piston & propeller driven, there were a great many Englishmen working abroad in all corners of the Globe, doing what Englishmen did, building the railways and mines and shipyards and so on, pretty much all ex-servicemen, and of course they all had kids, and so it was quite common for those kids to attend school “back home” and fly out for school holidays, depending on how senior (well paid) your folks were and how much they disliked you, you could get flown out once, twice or three times a year, so you could easily do six flights between London and Singapore for example per year… so BOAC brought in a thing to keep all these little shits well behaved called the junior jet club, I think 7 was the lower age limit, and every flight you got 5 minutes in the cockpit in flight and your little book stamped, and you got certificates at 125k, 250k, and 500k miles…. of course it didn’t take long to add that up, and by the time you were 12 you’d dumped all that crap and the stupid “unaccompanied minor” lapel pin that meant the BOAC staff would look out for you…. do you know where you are flying to little boy, would you like a drink, lol
Tickets and all were of course pre-paid and pre-booked, but looking back I used to carry astonishingly little cash, probably fifty bucks in today’s money.
In theory you could make an international phone call, but I personally had never heard of anyone who had done such a thing, and I knew people who owned and ran fucking huge multinational companies, either my dad worked directly for them or I knew their kids…
I could go on and on and on, but, you get the idea.
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Perhaps, just perhaps, it is because I come from a time when communication was either face to face, or slooooow, you didn’t expect instant gratification, it could take a week or more for the letter to get there, and a week or more for the reply to get back..
So on the one hand I find the whole modern “what the fuuuuuck!!!! I sent the cunt a message three whole fucking minutes ago and I still haven’t had a fucking reply, what the fuuuuuck!!!“ rather amusing and stupid, on the other hand I do come from a time when each communication was considered valuable, so SOME FUCKING RESPONSE would be nice, not some “lol yeah” either, a fucking response, with content and meaning and information.
In part this is because of the modern obsession with “multitasking”, but of course there ain’t no such animal, all there is is “time slicing” and if you find yourself unable to hold six face to face conversations simultaneously or make six phone calls simultaneously or play six games of chess simultaneously, then it really is no wonder that you fail utterly at using a variety of different methods to;
whatsapp person #1
sms person #2
sms person #3
web/mail/portal person #4
email person #5
kik person #6
all the while checking fuckbook and twatter and so on.
If you chop the time slice for any of those jobs below the minimum required to do that stage of that job properly, then you just added to the noise and detracted from the signal for all the rest of it too.
I see this ALL THE FUCKING TIME, particularly with wimminz, but to be fair not a hell of a lot less with guys, they are operating under information overload and as a result the instant you drop off the mental radar you are forgotten.
It is the same process whether you are waiting for an update to a job in a work email or waiting to her from a skank on a fucking site, you just may give more of a shit or be more annoyed by one or the other, because it matters more to you personally at that moment, but, to the other person involved you are just noise that fell off the radar.
You were lost in the immediacy and urgency of the moment.
It’s nothing personal, you fell off her radar, someone else stayed on and got their balls drained.
It’s nothing personal, in fact, that is exactly it, the time slices are cut so thin there is no room left for anything personal, and so the obsession everyone has is with what they do not have, not what they do have.
Apart from an empty belly, I have yet to meet a dog, or any other animal come to that, who spends any time at all worrying about what they do not have, and they are better for it.
I could sit here and make no changes of any material kind whatsoever to my life, and start worrying about what I do not have, including all the hundreds of wimminz that have not sent me meaningful personal communications, and ruin my life by doing so, because I would end up unhappy with it.
Or, I can sit here and be a dog, actually I have everything I fucking need, hell, I have things that were beyond any science fiction to the little boy I once was, and be extremely happy and content with life.
Sure, there are things I do not have, but the lack of them does not detract from what I do have.
The bitch who started this thread off, her “backpacking holiday” will be centred around her fucking iphone, and taking selfies, and updating her fuckbook page, and roaming charges and wifi hotspots and mains charging adapters, and her life is sliced into time slots so thin she might as well have stayed at home and joined Second Life, because lets face it, her first and only real life is passing her by in multi-tasked slices too small to achieve anything of merit.
They all have an idea, a plan, an agenda, that they are pushing forwards, and reality on the ground and anything and everything else contradicting this is simply dismissed as not being relevant, or representative, or important, or real.
This is why Syria is just the latest in a series of geopolitical events to trouble me.
Cameron doesn’t know anything about the reality on the ground in various parts of London, much less say rural Dorset, yet they are pontificating about a completely different country with a completely foreign culture and history and geography.
And yes, I get the whole they are just puppets and figureheads thing, but that is just an excuse, the same could be said for Assad or Putin or anyone else.
It is all shades of claiming that Jim Carrey was actually a wuuuunderful thespian, and so he should have no personal blame attached whatsoever for being Ace Ventura etc. Bollocks, he took the fucking money, so suck it down.
You kill something by cutting off the head, if it is just a figurehead and the creature still lives, you achieved two things, you killed the whore acting as figurehead, and you revealed the nature of the creature that employed it.
The internet achieved that decapitation process, not as well as it could have, but more effectively than everything that went before put together.
Just one lifetime ago Goebbels and his peers knew that all you had to do was tell the pubic that X is an enemy and means us immediate harm, and up until that point that had been true for the entirety of human history.
True, satellite TV broadcasting and so called media groups that control television, newspapers, radio, film and music all under one roof are a pestilence, but they aren’t the only game in town.
I know *lots* of intelligent people who publicly subscribe to all sorts of off the wall cults, the more ludicrous the better, and they don’t actually believe one iota of it, it is just camouflage and an opportunity to party and meet in the flesh, and in reality they are hip to what is going on, and mercilessly cynical and sceptical of *everything* spoon fed by the MSM.
Are they paranoid?
Well, it is only paranoia if the other guy isn’t out to fuck you over, and by any actual metric you care to use, the greatest threat facing any individual western citizen at the moment is his own state, and his fellow sheeple.
If person X is able to make decisions that adversely affect my life, which in a modern technological society means there are a *lot* of person X’s out there, do I really care if their MOTIVE for that bad decision was because they thought they knew it all, or they had an agenda to push, or they were pre-occupied with the latest episode of Draghi Boo Boo or Syria’s Got Talent or I’m a Shi-ite, Get Me Out Of Here or Scud Factor?
Back in the days when we fought actual dirty on the ground wars with infantry, it was well known that a friendly bullet would kill you just as dead as an enemy bullet.
Ideas and beliefs and agendas are the same as bullets, a friendly one will fuck you up just as much as an enemy one, there isn’t one iota of difference to you.
Don’t kid yourself, it is amateur night out there, a bonfire of the vanities, and these are the people both pulling the strings and acting as willing puppets.
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….
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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?
There is a thing that I find that wimminz are incredibly bad at, and mainly they are incredibly bad because everyone else LETS them get away with that shit, and that thing is accepting that actions have personal consequences.
Actions having personal rewards the wimminz are all over, no problemo there.
Actions having personal consequences, different story bro…
Housing benefit is a UK benefit paid to individuals who are either not working, or on a low wage, to go towards their rent etc.
Back in the day when almost anyone was entitled to this benefit, a lot of wannabe landlords and property developers realised that splitting a three bedroom house into three separate one room studios or flats would generate more rent money than leaving it as a three bedroom house, rent money that would ultimately be paid for by the state purse in the form of housing benefit.
Said one bed properties were all too small to swing a cat, and god help you if you owned more that two suitcases worth of shit, because the place would be crowded.
You can see how a single law can spawn a whole subculture of property developers, builders, rental agents, buy-to-let landlords, you name it.
So they change the law, from the beginning of this year if you were less than 25 years of age you were no longer “eligible” for housing benefit, so shared accommodation or bedsits for you, and from the beginning of next year they are raising this to 35 years of age.
Suddenly there are all sorts of one bedroom flats for sale, and not selling, as the buy to let landlords try to get out of the market, what use is a 33 year old prospective tenant and single person, who is no longer entitled to claim Housing Benefit, and thus be able to afford the huge and insane rents being charged by landlords…
At the simple stroke of a pen, a law dealing with Housing benefit entitlement affects landlords, property developers, builders and property maintenance, letting agents, mortgage firms, and of course prospective tenants and single persons, and indeed anyone else living on a street where three bedroom properties have been converted to one bed flats.
The legal definition here is having your own front door and key, you can put locks on each bedroom door and rent them out as bed-sits or studios or whatever, but if everyone uses the same front door and has a key to that front door then it is “multi occupancy”.
Multi occupancy has lots of problems, quite apart from the domestic arrangements of shared cooking and washing facilities and theft and dirt, it is not YOURS, so you cannot get contents insurance, you cannot enter into any agreements with a service supply company for power or broadband, and of course many of the legal protections that apply to TENANTS do not apply to you….
So a stroke of a pen changes who can get this Housing benefit from “anyone entitled” to “nobody under 35 who is single”
If you are a man under 35 this means you’d better enter into a relationship PDQ, and in reality this means a relationship with a wimminz, so one false DV accusation later and you’re fucking homeless again.
If you are a wimminz under 35 this means you’d better get pregnant PDQ, or have a series of guys every six months who you falsely accuse of DV once you’ve been assessed and granted your HB for the next six months.
Now, I am NOT leaping to defend the old system, which was designed to be abused, but when the efforts to save 3 billion pounds a year in Housing benefit alone are all basically targeted at ALL single males between the ages of 16 and 35, because the wimminz have a selection of get out clauses that the men can NEVER invoke, you just gotta ask, what the fuck are you thinking?
Are you TRYING to stir up social unrest?
Are you TRYING to start another glut of single skank ho mommies on state benefits?
Are you TRYING to help the devil find work for idle hands?
You know the story, guy wakes up with utterly amazing thing in his head, goes to write it down, someone or something interrupts, and it is all gone…. and that is my excuse for why this blog is mainly crap, someone or something keeps interrupting me.
See, here’s the thing, I have seen and heard many people place the blame for their own lack of achievement or greatness on the demands of others, if only I didn’t have a wife and kids and mortgage to support, I could have gone to medical school.
MGTOW however reveals another thing entirely, guys who spend most of their time doing sweet fuck all, sure, they may have half a dozen projects on the go, but none of them are a rush…
… be nice to get the motor-sickle back together and on the road in time for next summer… but that is a sentiment that has been expressed the last three winters, and a couple more won’t hurt…
… mainly the 16 hours of wakefulness each day are filled by doing sweet fuck all of note, but doing it in your own pace and at your own time and in your own way.
Living such a life Coleridge managed to produce three poems of note, a guy called Darwin went on a sea voyage because he was suitable intellectual company for another gentleman (that was his only role, he was not voyage naturalist) etc etc
Yet when we are told about MGTOW’s we are always pointed at workaholics like daVinci and Tesla and Brunel, guys who couldn’t sit still and contemplate the possibility of needing a fart or needing a crap, they’d have to build a machine to take care of both eventualities.
Give up wimminz and suddenly you will have all that free time, in which to be industrious for yourself, and in no time at all you will have a fleet of motorcycles, three cars, a 4×4, a yacht and a speedboat, and apparently no fucking time at all in which to enjoy them, or contemplate needing a fart or a crap…
Is that what the draft pony dreams about? Giving up the company cart to pull just so he can still be a draft pony and pull his own cart, or does he dream about just saying fuckit, throw off the cart and harness, I think I’ll wander over thataway and chew some grass..
Anecdotally and tangentially, PoF is seeing a huge influx in new sign-ups from wimminz in Wales, and as those of you who know anything about UK geography and economics knows, Wales is in many ways the canary in the coal-mine as far as employment goes, as for the wimminz themselves, I’m reminded of an auto maker who is convinced that the answer to the collapse is sales is to re-brand everything with some new badge engineering, take a whole slew of new publicity shots, and start a whole new publicity campaign, this alone will be sufficient to change something from “Boy, you can’t polish a turd” (Christine) to something that sells like Buzz Lightyear the first time around.
The Xanadu interruptions to sedentary navel gazing and lotus eating are not necessarily a bad thing though, the good thing about the sedentary lifestyle is that it IS open to impromptu interruptions, and these interruptions can be interesting and pleasant, in a very Zen kind of way.
One of these interruptions was while writing this, just such a wimminz, but not welsh, we chatted on PoF a few weeks ago and she didn’t seem to me to be making any effort to get in my pants, so I walked away in boredom and ennui…. turns out I was right, as she had another guy in the holding pattern, turns out he wasn’t as good at sex as she was hoping so she pops up again today, and fuck the “long term” in her profile, within 2 minutes she is talking about needing a damn good dirty fuck, can I oblige?
Who knows, it’s a three whorse (sic) race to see who is going to keep my balls drained this weekend, and it may even be that the race will be cancelled by me if don’t just see a clear winner, and that isn’t first past the post a book for definite on X night, but first past the post who also looking like they are desperate and will do anything to win.
That’s the thing with the sedentary MGTOW, because he is quite happy to spend 10 minutes contemplating whether he needs a crap or a fart, quite happy to be having three or four long term no rush at all projects on the go, he is the marketing department’s nightmare…
Trying to get him motivated and eager like an apple fanboi is next to impossible.. “you want me to pay how much? for what? and no new features or ability?” next thing you get is “nah, I’ll pass” and if you keep it up you’ll get “take your products, all of them, stick them up your ass, and fuck off, forever”
Passivity is actually an incredibly powerful thing, it is INORDINATELY difficult to get someone riled up or involved in something they literally no longer give a shit about.
Now, we are actually starting to talk, at higher levels of state, around the periphery at least, about the problems caused by the fact that we no longer make anything, we are a service industry run by and for wimminz and niggerz, and everyone else is a single mum on the state teat.
Trying to involve me in this debate is like a load of 3′ tall dwarves who have spent the last 30 years destroying the levees, trying to involve a 6′ tall Zulu in what should be done when the flood waters rise to 40″ high…
Sedentary animals don’t burn a lot of energy, but they are often capable of astonishing feats of physical prowess… wander into the African bush and if you manage to see a big cat without actually also disturbing them, chances are they are lying there half asleep, wondering whether to take a crap or just fart.
A rising tide lifts all boats equally (and as I said before here a falling tide strands all poorly crewed boats equally) but rising floodwaters kill everything that lives underground and can’t swim first, then everything that is very short and can’t swim, then everything that is slow and can’t swim… the red-neck motherfucker on the lilo with a cheap ass polystyrene (floats) cooler full of suds is better equipped that 99.9% of life to survive that flood, he has what he needs, and nothing that he doesn’t need.
Having nothing that I don’t need in my life is why I can live for so little, in monetary terms, so little, in effort terms, so little in stress terms, so little, in giving a shit terms, so little, in involvement in society or people’s problems, so little, in energy expended terms.
In this final bit on addiction, I want to touch on aversion, what happens to make an ex smoker such an anti smoker, what happens to make a red piller so anti blue piller.
It is with some irony that I note that it is 4 am and I am sat here with a coffee typing this, when back in the smoking addiction days it would have been a smoke and a coffee and back to bed, on nights when you just can’t get back to sleep….
…the irony being that I always said smoking was a drug just like cannabis, it kept me calm and tranquil and lazy, and made me put up with shit from other people and wimminz that I would never put up with when not under the influence…. lacking the drug to dull my brain, I must now type as I slurp coffee.
There is a wimminz on PoF using a quote in her profile, it goes like this “If I have to chase and fight for your attention, eventually I won’t want it anymore.” which is particularly hilarious because at one point when she was “looking for long term” relationshit on PoF I included her in the mailshot, but she decided to play princess, so I ignored her, now here she is 9 or so months later having reduced herself to the “intimate encounter” section, and she messaged me this time, and now it is on offer on the table I don’t fucking want it anymore bitch…. that’s aversion.
Aversion lite, to be sure, not steaming turd on my dinner plate full on aversion, but aversion like addiction usually starts with small steps into territory suitable for building superhighways.
It’s why when wimminz have had your cock once and decided to move on, or talked to you once and decided to move on, or have just decided to move on, they are in aversion mode, and everything and anything you do only strengthens and reinforces that aversion…. best thing you can do is walk away and never look back… bo peep and her sheep
Aversion is in many ways the flipside of addiction…. just as an addiction to smoking will constantly barrage your concious mind with pop up ads and interstitials and links and spam to smoking is good stuff, a full on aversion will do the same thing, the most drop dead gorgeous kinky obedient slutty sex bomb on the planet, and then you see her spark up a smoke and yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuk.
Aversion is what happens in many men’s heads when they realise / discover / suspect that cupcake just had another man’s cock dump a load in her, you still get all the popups and interstitials and links and spam in your conciousness, but instead of saying “gooooood” at you they are saying “baaaaaad” at you.
Here is a little interesting fact.
Every time I have quit smoking, it has lowered my sex drive… go on…. google it… you’ll get plenty of hits.
Except it doesn’t make sense, and it isn’t true, and something else entirely is happening.
Me on smoke can just ignore all sorts of annoying crap about a wimminz and think pure porn about what we are gonna do.
Me off smoke can’t ignore all that annoying crap, and it starts to get in the way, and it starts to invite “aversion” to the party, and you can LITERALLY go from cock throbbing at the thought of an individual specific wimminz to meh, no, can’t be bothered, about the same wimminz, within 72 hours of quitting smoking cold turkey…. simply because you made space for all that aversion to come in, and didn’t take care to populate that space with extra spicy porno thoughts first.
Guys we all know this, one of the times I started smoking again (I said before wimminz were behind every time I started) was when my psycho skank ho ex launched her FRA against me, I could go to the shop and buy some tobacco and smoke it to CALM DOWN, or I could go and buy some booze, and we all know where that would lead…
That first smoke to an ex smoker is a doozy, but fact is, that addiction doesn’t come back like a bullet in the head all or nothing…. you could have the odd random smoke… cigar at christmas etc… it took work to get the addiction back to full strength…. it takes work to fight that addiction back to a distant background hum, and it takes work to bring an aversion into play, or to overcome one.
This is the point, you do have to participate in the process, subconsciously or deliberately, vigorously or apathetically, the tobacco companies are right, nobody got addicted without their own participation, and the anti lobby is right too, it is far too easy to manufacture that participation in so many ways, from subtle products placement to direct in your face marketing.
Aversion therapy works pretty much the same way…. nobody can be made to avoid something without their own participation, but that participation is all too easy to get, what with advertising and direct marketing and the general background radiation of the MSM
The blue piller is the addiction, the red piller is the one who has rejected the addiction and now feels aversion…. just as the blue piller feels aversion for the red piller.
Does British American Tobacco really give a fuck which one of its products you smoke 30 a day of?
Do TPTB really give a fuck which one of the blue pills 95% of the populace takes every day, as long as 95% keep taking the blue pills, all will be well.
That………… now we have come to the message within the message, as I alluded to above about quitting smoking making your dick limp, is that unlike in the film the Matrix where everything is down to a simple binary choice, red pill or blue pill, in reality these addictions are like so many bramble bushes that grow through one another and entwine with one another and grow upon one another… it’s like saying “I’m gonna give up eating monosodium glutamate“, easy to say, fucking hard to do, it is in everything, labelled or not, so instead of having to give up one food item, you have to give up whole food groups, eateries, supermarkets and lifestyle choices.
So one of the classier tricks of the blue pill is to make you think you have given up the blue pill, when in reality you just have a different chef, different marketing / branding, and wall to wall blue pill on the menu.
Here aversion can be used, use the red pill aversion to strengthen the dislike and dismissal for anyone who attempts to point out you just changed tables in the same blue pill restaurant…
SO time gets tough and world war three breaks out, the boys in the trenches gotta have their smokes, I know I would, I always resort to shock to the system the same way, I reach for the tobacco, BECAUSE IT IS A FUCKING DRUG, and because since time immemorial humans have self medicated themselves…. or maybe I wouldn’t… maybe I only do it in peacetime when transgressions are easier to spot….
Sometimes, living in the blue pill world, it can HURT to have an IQ, to have ability, to have honour, to have standards, to have integrity
Take a toke, read the MSM, talk to a wimminz, then look at me, minding my own business, and you will get three different but similar descriptions of what I am, from three different people, one smoking, one reading the MSM and one involved with the wimminz, and none of them know me or anything about me, yet they will describe be, and in doing so circumscribe and enchain me and brand me with acts and deeds that I may never have done or never do.
Addictions and aversions like filters, they do not merely change the way the world is seen, they in effect change the world, at least as far as human decision making… sure, outcomes will be different.
It’s time to quote Vonnegut again
Very few, at any rate. It occurs to me that the man and his religion are one and the same thing. The unknown exists. Each man projects on the blankness the shape of his own particular world-view. He endows his creation with his personal volitions and attitudes. The religious man stating his case is in essence explaining himself. When a fanatic is contradicted he feels a threat to his own existence; he reacts violently.
Blue pillers, wimminz and niggerz, they all be fanatics of the worst kind, so be careful out there…. your own addictions and aversions may put you in someone else’s sights.
