Tuesday, 19 November 2013

Nothing to Lose

If there was no manosphere it would be necessary to invent it.

It seems a sort of fuzzy dream to some, a spiritual torpor, when a cunt, fresh off the plate and balking in that pure, brilliant light of idealism, faces the world with smiles, light sighs, giggles and the arm around the lass with the hot ass in class, fevering, the music gets louder and louder, as he dreams, that soon his time might come, calling the field to rest and going away, to part the glory of this happy day.

Didn’t work out like that though, did it? Boomer cuntflaps for sho.

The manosphere is antifragile. There is no doubt about that. An odd conglomeration of PUAs, MRAs, MG wheredefuckever and normalish lads trying to get their shit together in this dark perplexing time, it is what it is and it was always going to come about in some manner, Fight Club without all of the silliness. This decentralization is one of its key strengths though. If everyone found out that Roosh was a massive pedo in the morning for example, then the manosphere would be hurt, but not hurt in a big way, because the information is the information of the reality, right wing is of course reality, and bloggers, new and old, will continue at their own pace, the way things always were, comparing notes, realising that theys be the normal ones. Someone attacks the manosphere, we get free publicity. Some cunt gets booted out of the job, well the flames of hatred burn stronger, higher, faster, and brighter. But that’s not free speech they say lol! Who looks like the arsehole then?

But of course, what makes the manosphere even more antifragile is when yous break it down into its individual people, the percentile, the average lad or lassie.  Typically the individual may be fragile but the collective is antifragile. Nature, evolution psychology, the fittest of the fit, the race against the red queen, restaurants and entrepreneurs, suddenly it makes much more sense, does it not? But it is becoming increasingly clear; the manosphere is antifragile, both at the individual level and at the collective level.

Let me use myself as an example. I have very little to no intention to work hard on my career per sae.  I don’t want to work in some tedious as cubicle drone bullshit, gaunt faced cunt and de Excel spreadsheet, watching my mind and body decay at an exponential rate, sharing the same carpet with people I don’t like, rooms of heads and bodies under environmentally efficient fluorescent lightbulbs, wrought hands, smiles with daggers, sloppy lunches in plastic bags, staring out the window, chitter chatter as background music and watching the idiot with the Polish 8, tapping her ass and dragging her to a park. So that’s gone out of the window. Real wages are dropping precipitously, which is not that fun to be honest. Therefore, if I am to have a family, it is to be done properly. I don’t have to be rich, but the kid needs money to get by. My wife, the mother of my children, does not have to be a perfect woman by any stretch of the imagination, but between women having babies later (which increases the chance of a Forrest Gump kid), sluttiness, obesity, and just the general decline and drop of rudimentary, how to mother a kid 101 without it going all Chris Brown on your ass, I accept that might never ever happen. Plus, with divorce laws the way they are, and using the law of large numbers and basic statistical facts, I have to make sure this lassie is up to scratch.

So. You fucked up the chances of my career, by taxing me up the wazoo and making work as horrifically boring and dehumanizing as possible.  You fucked up my chance to have a wife and family due to the drop in real wages, divorce, probability etc. Moreso, because I am in good physical shape, tall, am cognizant of the fact that at 22, I’m only going to become more and more sexually attractive to women for the next ten years or so, as are most men who are on some sort of a path, this beggars the question for the cunt and countess?

What exactly do I have to lose?

What do you have to lose?

Nothing, right?

Sweet fuck all, I bet yous donut to dollar.

What can they do to you?

Call you sexist?

Call you small dicked Franco?

Call you homophobic?

Make you see a psychiatrist?

It’s remarkable in retrospect, quite remarkable actually; how I’ve become more “Francoish” over the past year or so, especially after starting this blog all that time ago. I don’t go all aspergery fucktardy on a simpering, timorous effeminate herby twat of a thing; I state my opinions as bluntly, but as tersely and try and be friendly as possible, open to the other person, or at least I try to be. Actually, here's a good trick. If you're arguing with someone, say "I agree with you, but..." even if you one hundred percent disagree with him. Makes the cunt feel more gooey and are, digression aside. Again, be careful in aw, all of it comes with obvious disclaimers en aw for the aspergery fucktard, but yous would be very surprised, especially if the lassie is into you even in the smallest way. None of this is epic or interesting or profound in anyway, but it makes you realize that the world won’t cave in on itself with your dick in a goat. I’ll give you an example. My friend and I were talking about masculine chicks and I was talking about how I prefer girly, friendly lassies. This lad’s friend, a lassie who is taller than me in heels, real butch as shit, (nickname Mr T) more testosterone than a fucking Man-of-war song, overhears me and butts in.  

“So you don’t like masculine women?”

Challenge accepted Mr T.
“Nah like. I like feminine, good looking women, ones who like baking me cakes and washing my clothes. Don’t want to exactly wake up next to someone who looks like a Scottish sailor. Like this bar. Most of the girls here look like Tony Soprano in drag, for fucks sake. ”

“That’s really offensive! Take that back!” (even though I wasn’t talking about her, but said lassie, says it in a half amused sort of manner)
Smile and silence.

“You can be thrown out for talking like that!”
“Relax, who said that I was talking about you?”

“Well, were you?”
I laugh, tap her on the shoulder and as I turn I reply:

“I’m off to get another drink!”
See bee. Of course, I’m not being one of these too cool for school motherfuckers. I’m in a university which recently celebrated equality week for fucks sake! These fuckos would have me killed and have my bones made into a screaming chair if they found out I was such a heretic speaking all this shit. Hold your tongue bitch, you intolerant fuck you. How was your day? DO YOU KNOW WHAT R/K THEORY IS? But in essence, I’m starting to give less of a fuck. Not in a demotivated way: on the contrary I’ve become more and more motivated because I know these fuckos and their ability to hurt me is becoming less and less each day. Thus, the cunt is antifragile. What doesn’t kill you makes you the most interesting man in the room, right? Surely I’m not the only one, experiencing this? When you stop giving a shit in the right way, certain things start cropping up again and again. All shits and giggles and the earth is not such a cold dark place anymore. If you want a movie equivalent, think Office Space. Suddenly Peter stops giving a shit and he finds himself promoted and missing the job cut.

Tolstoy wrote about how big events occur. They are comprised of the aggregate, the daily drudgery of the modern cunt’s life, calculus, differentiating the cunt with respect to a change in values , convivial, building a world and a solar system from the bottom up with a strong motivation. Somewhere out there, more and more men are speaking, having their thoughts felt, whether it is in private to a best friend, or in person to a lassie with questionable body odour. A man saying he’s had enough, or calling a horizontally challenged lassie Flabbalicious, these are the dreams that Martin Luther King had ken. I’m not sure if Taleb has talked about this, but antifragile system where the individuals themselves are antifragile has got to be a pretty fucking mental thing right? The ball is in our court lads. It really is ours tae lose.

I mean it’s too little too late and the economy is fucked and Is would still recommend buying a shotgun just in case but whatever like.

3 comments:

  1. "Most of the girls here look like Tony Soprano in drag, for fucks sake.” This fucking killed me. Actually lolled. Very good points on 'anti-fragile', maybe that's what happens when you keep getting fucked over.

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    Replies
    1. Lol, cheers.

      Yeah, if lads and lassies get fucked over to such an extent, there's literally nothing for yous to lose so you might as well put yourself outthere and take that big leap en aw.

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  2. We've all got nothing to lose. I'm just glad it happened later in my life where I'm going to be able to fuck some of these lassies, finish what I want to do and take myself out under my own terms.

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