Saturday, 31 August 2013

This Charming Man


Charades usually are humorous. The way the game is played, rigged, rigged from the start, cunts that are totally wired, blathering on about white privilege with a pinch of cisgender hetero-normative hysteria tae boot, for good measure en aw, the catalyst for an explosion, a sweeping conflagration that engulfs a cunt and a cuntess, many not even noticing that this place was sultry, sweaty, dehumanizing. There ain't a good cunt here. You thinks yous be good no? Nah ken, yous are just in your own little pond with your own little bit of relative truth to keep you going, through thick en thin, through nail and hammer.

I'm not the only cunt that be heading back to de university in the next while. There's been a lot of interesting postage and quips about how a cunt holds onto such views in the light of the pandemonium that is the left singularity, fucken shite talk that permeates everything, leading an odor that be stinging the nostrils ken, rape hysteria, imbibed lassies swing themselves around telegraph poles. So, how does a cunt traverse such messy, anfractuous terrain then?

To be honest, it's not an easy question. Does one play along with all the "1 in 4" codswallop or does one act like a fucken extremeo bendo son of a bitch? The answer to that I think is going to be a little bit of an inbetween one.

The first thing, to keep in mind, while expressing an opinion is one of appearance and one of action. This is extremely, unbelievably important. Think about how popular hardcore feminism would be if all the hot lassies bought intae it and practiced what they preached, and they weren't butch, brick faced cunts with stupid dye in de hair. Get a look. Get into the gym. Join a boxing club and get your fucken shit together. Three or so years ago, I was about 120 pounds (no joke) at about 6ft. Now I'm forty five+ pounds heavier in bulk, muscle and with a more masculine demeanor. Consider this experiment for yourself as well. Who is more impressive, the creepy looking bum or the well pressed cunt who looks like a million sunshines? Exactly. Gym. Paleoish diet. Etc etc. Yous will get away with a lot more, trust a cunt on this.

The second point worthy of consideration is what exactly yous are going to talk about. Start with feminism every single time. Feminism, despite what some of the lads and lassies here think, is not particularly taboo or politically correct to talk about, or at the very least compared to something like race realism, it's like talking about last week's footy. That's another reason why the manosphere and the reactionary sphere work off of each other extremely well. Not only because of the hapless lad suddenly getting his hole for the first time since the pyramids were built, but because feminism is not much in the way of taboos compared to a lot of other stuff out there, especially with lads you happen to be talking to.

Third, know your audience. Rule of thumb, the less exposed a person is to the Cathedral (assuming a reasonable level of intelligence), the more open he/she is to ideas that advocate the opposite. So the student doing his Phd in English is not going to warm up to you in the same way a medical student that lived most of his life in the country is going to.

Martel has a number of interesting posts on this topic. We are losing yes. But remember, people are living in their own little ponds, working on their own crusades, their own goals. There is plenty a feminist out theres who thinks that they are doing a good job, pursuing something noble, when the truth is theys be not. Better not to plant a couple of seeds of doubt and let a cunt come across to the dark side? This is not exciting stuff. This is dull. But it grows and grows. Lad B sees you doing well with women and then does a bit of soul searching. Perhaps the sophists had the right idea ken? Be a wolf in sheeps clothing, otherwise yous are going to be very exposed.

Finally, if you say something which doesnae tie over well with the lad or lassie, do not, for the love that is all good and pulchritudinous and shit, get defensive. If you get defensive, then the other person wins. If you get defensive and the other person keeps the cool, it is game over a million times over. Moreso, humiliating a cunt means an asshole in the closet willing to strike back. Yeah, sure yous won en aw, but now there's a fucker who has your name and number. Aurini had a really good video recently, about Sun Tzu a while back, with a killer little bit of advice for debating with someone. It works beautifully as well, so I'm just going to rob it from him here. What it boils down is this: leave the other person a way out. Simply say, when you disagree with someone "I agree with you on...x....you are right/correct/on de money when it comes to x, however..." and proceed from there. Even if your views are like a Marxist to an alt right benny, like chocolate to de cheese, and yous son of a bitches agree on absolutely nothing, that person will feel warm and gooey and will have a good mindframe with yous. The seeds of doubt ken.

This is not an interesting or exciting thing to do. Yous, being in an environment like this, will have to keep a cool head and tread carefully, even god forbid, proving to all de high aboves how much of a good little leftie yous are, yelling louder than most. Yous will want to crush anything resembling a femcunt ken. Throw them a few questions. Slowly ken. Win through doing, though keeping de cool head, and dipping your toes in the writing sphere. Like a cunt be saying, yous write a post, and even if it be a shitty little throwaway thing on eating pop tarts, if yous are linking intae cunts, yous are in the google and on the spotlight. After all, this is going to get a hell of lot uglier before it gets better.

Friday, 30 August 2013

Vicariously Living through the Fat Fucks on the Telly


Fucken cunts asking about Rooney to Moys on the Sky Sports telly again, and where the hell this cat is going to end up in the future. Again. A-fuckengain, christ on a bike like, the guy gets all moody and shit, tears this turd a new one and I definitely would too. The same question for the past two months, again and again. Now, any cunt can see Rooney's the kind of cunt who, while in the footy and the position he's in right now, he hates where he is. He disnae want to be playing fucken long balls up to Van Funky, not a hope in hell ken, rather, he wants to be scoring those goals and getting all hot and dirty, where the real payoff is and the real glory is. There are lads, lassies nonchalantly sipping their fruity vodka drinky things and wes are talking about the Manchester Utd and Liverpool game coming up. Goddamn it but Wayne Rooney is a nutty bastard. You just knows, once he stops playing, he's going to be on the fish and chips and he's going to end up a real fat fuck, like Calcutta fat fuck, wes be talking here.

I dig sports ken, but in a weird sort of way. Personally, I care jack shit about the results, the playouts, the wins or the losses per sae, despite going to the fucken Euro championships all that time ago. I care about the algorithm, the click, the flow of the game, the endogenous variables, the pace, the speed. It's like a machine and yous don't know when it is going to stop. I wager one of the reasons sports is as popular as it is is because of the fact communal ties and social circles have been eroded for a plethora of reasons, (another post thinky topic ken) sports acts as sort of way that the lads can chill the fuck out with each other, a way that people can relate to each other and trade places, stories, and share the fear of the banker, the 15 percent unemployment rate, the new diaspora, the exit wound of a mortgage in arrears. The more shit changes, the more shit stays the same.

But I'm a weird fuck in a lot of ways. Sports appeals to me because there's a mechanical, mathematical element to it, there's statistics and Bayes rules to be drawn up around the whole thing. For other lads and lassies, well I dunno, most people aren't aspergery fucktards, theys actually be normal cunt and cuntesses, know what I'd be saying ken? A part of it always struck me as kind of sad in its own way, and I'll expand on dis nowt. See, yous are in a bar right, and the story is always the fucken same. Two fat fuckers with shitty cowlicks and footie shirts with fucken NAMES printed on de back (is there anything more emasculating than wearing a shirt with another bloke's name on it?), hair going out of their nostrils. The felicitous use of humor, so some shitty Family Guy about Stewie being a buttjockey joke then, ken. And these lads will go fucken back and forth roysh, gossiping like fucken women, on fucken Spurs and their setup and the hilarity (ok, it is hilarious) of Arsenal and the ever tentative big French bastard Arsie Wenger selling yet another great player to the opposition. Shitting bricks here ken. Which makes a cunt dive for his pint, nodding and glancing in the aseptic surroundings of a Dublin pub.

But is that how a man lives out his days? Knocking back ten bears in the company of pyknic lassies, gambrious tunage and gallivanting around to shitty pub one and two and three and four and talking outside to a Polish lad who claims that he was a drug mule and then, and then, ah lads, its happened to me before, happened to a lot of Irish people actually, but if yous talk to an Eastern European about socialism, about what their parents suffered, and that will destroy the idea, of shitheads like Krugman, just like that! The lassie I was with for a bit, her parents had loads of fun stories about queues for de lumpy bread and green looking butter once a month, if theys were lucky to get butter. But you fuckos are voting it in, so have at it! The place is fucked anyway. Go back to Triniteh and get high off the smell of your own shite. All my friends are fucken political scientists, sneh? Are they huh? Good for you ken! Trinity College is full of cunts. BESS lassies ken, BESS. BESS lassies are the easiest. Vaginas like concentration camps ken.

But I am going off of the point here. The svelte lassie with the hair like silk, the yeast rising to the sound of ticking clocks, the capacious midlands, freedom, uncut and pure, is lost because many a cunt is stuck sitting in front of dat fucken couch gossiping about Rooney's hair transplant, or living through the foot of the free kick of the header of the deflection, of the jovial singing as the scoreboard lights up. It's a bit depressing no? It's like Taleb said, it's all about skin in the game ken.  Football is a million times more fun to play than watch, so why don't yous play it? Most sports are as a matter of fact. I lift weights, I box and I couldn't tell yous a damn thing about the latter. Funny how some of the lads, the biggest sports fans are the biggest fat fucks going, and they laugh at a lad for doing it. God forbid these cunt do something with themselves. It's kind of the same thing with critics, especially ones of books. Sure it's great, to see eviscerated sacks of shite like Harold Bloom and Marxoid Terry Eagleton write long tirades on literature, but that's because they are cowards. They would never write their own novels, they sit back, they don't get their claws dirty because that is what academia is these days no? It is a coward's den.

You write that poem, you write that book, you write that movie script. Don't sit back like a little bitch and munch you very much. Get involved en aw!

Sports are important. There is an entertainment triumvirate to be seen here: videogames, pornography and 24 hour sports coverage. An understanding of all three is essential to understand what the fuck be going on in the next while ken, so this wasn't just a rant, but it be a messy gloopy soup that no cunt properly understands, and any cunt asking for seconds better be prepared properly to deal with the possibly, unforeseen and quite dangerous consequences. 

Tuesday, 27 August 2013

A Rant on Marriage


Not really sure if you lads and lassies know what de craic is en ce moment, but there's been this twatty, really thickarsecunt video about marriage and marketing marriage floating around as of late. Dalrock has covered it, and so has Free Northerner. Free makes a number of excellent comments and remarks about how does a cunt go about marketing the whole thing to men. He makes a number of excellent points, but he is leaving out a number of important ones which I believe, although somewhat counter-intuitive, are worthy of consideration in terms of getting your ideas across.

First, is the type of men who get involved in marriage. Now, dis stuff is based on hanging round with older, ready toos get intae all that conjugal relations shite lads and lassies and a tad bit of data, mostly grabbed from Dalroks place of business, so bear with me. In my opinion, there are a number of men out there who get married despite not really wanting to. Why is this? Well, exhibit a is a man who has only slept with say, fuck all lassies. He then gets tied up with lassie whatsherface and is scared because he's getting nightmares in his sleep, soup nazis, neh buttsex for yous, and he clings on desperately to the lassie, like the nice looking one from cliffhanger. So, to cling on even tighter, he gets married and all is well, well no, because this cunt is probably the worst kind of person toos get married. The second kind of lad is the older guy, say mid thirties or so. He's sort of an inbetween kind of cunt, yous wouldn't call him a player, but he's not exactly one women, one butt for de Well Hung Franco, (TM) is he? He's possibly handy enough with de game, but his mates are getting married now, and he finds the situation he is in less than salubrious. Suddenly, nay cunt is coming around to his home anymore with some cans to watch some footy, because they're up to their elbows in baby shite and being shouted at by lassies with maws of Satan for spilling beer on the couch. No necessarily worried about lack of pussy per sae, more just worried about being the piggy in de middle when it comes to his mates. So he gets into something he doesn't necessarily want to get into. Selling loneliness and the female imperative (albeit implicitly) is a great way to market marriage. The whole toxic cocktail is finally finished off with a dash of romanticism or luv ken. Love is super important and whatnot, but it disnae hold up a marriage by itself, as countless numbers of people who are in that position are finding out.

You put in a little bit of a dash of a hollywood, or a Man Booker Prize bender novel, comely lassies on the telly, a pinch of "women were beaten ten times a day by their dickhead cisgender boyfriends for all of history guilt trip shite" and it be all good ken! That's how marriage is actually marketed as of now, and that's why this video is still doing the rounds. Of course, that be changing and whatnot. Real wages have dropped precipitously for males in the past few decades, so affording a child is going to be, well, as far from horrorshow as you can possibly imagine. People are more detatched, have less good friends, and so societal ties don't hold up as much as they used to either. Of course, people are still going to get married believing that their shitty relationship is greater than the 40/50 percent probability curve because theys be special and good and holy and whatnot. Plus, I think in a lot of lads, there is this, need to belong, put in my surplus labor to build this shit, kind of thing going on. But even so. It might be worth a follow up post, but what does this cunt know eh?

Personally, I think marriage is ok, but you absolutely have toos know what yous are getting into. You better have Game and a good grasp of female psychology, not player level, but it better be good all the same. Dem Gamma cunts will not be honest with themselves here, and they will pay for it big style with de lawyer and the payments and de Alan Harper shite. You better make sure she's a half decent human being too, not a fucken Jezebel reading harpy, garbage in garbage out kind of cunt ken. You should absolutely, one hundred percent want children, and being human, you want your children to be as awesome as possible, otherwise there be no point. That means no marrying older lassies (within reason) and increasing the probability of a child with autism, down syndrome, lower IQ etc. To be honest, I fucking hate seeing men marrying fatties and women older than them, with the intention of having children, not because of the relationships themselves, but because of kids, because fat women and older women give birth to unhealthier, dumber, unhappier children, all of this is a click away in many a medical journal, and to fuck over your own children just because yous are a dumb fuck who can't get his dick properly wet? Nah, fuck that shit ken. Finally, yous need to have a bit of moolah together. Again, yous don't need to be loaded, but it's not fair on your kid if he's the poor one and whatnot. Look how much shit Kenny gets in South Park ken. You really want that for your own kid? Sadly, many a cunt would consider a post like this vituperative and god forbid a man wants a piece of ass that is young and feminine, but they be dead ends for ginger Simeone de Cunty quoting cunts so theys don't matter anyways.

Roissy once said that Game can save Western Civilization, and this lad agrees with him. More masculine males and more feminine lassies. If you can tick those four boxes then yeah, go for it ken. If not, a cunt is playing with fire. But don't worry. Paul Elam always enjoys a good hummer.

Good to be back ken.

Sunday, 18 August 2013

The Decline of Fiction (Part Two: The Formula Needed To Make Money Writing Novels)


Every cunt in this here room thinks that they're the next Saul Bellow. A writing club, fucken kell ken. The lads on de Facebook with their hastily put together stories and really shitty postmodern (loadsa weird shite on de walls) poetry where, man, fuck, look at these cunts writing all of their sentences backwords! Makes a cunt sick to the gills en aw. Back in part one of the series, Franco talked about why de modern fiction is so utterly devoid of worthwhile content. It's emotional wank. It is there to kick up a reaction in yous, but without having any real substance or depth to it.

So how does this sententious wank come about? Where does it come from? Why is it that Man Booker Prize novels are all the rage these days? Why are they written in this way?

To do that, we first need to look at a number of authors:

From last years Man Booker Prize shotlist. Umbrella by Will "I Look Like a Pedo" Self:
 
Self attended University College School, an independent school for boys in Hampstead in North London.[14] He later attended Christ's College, Finchley, from where he went to Exeter College at Oxford University, reading Philosophy, Politics and Economics, graduating with a third class degree.[13][15] His reasons for reading PPE rather than English literature were discussed by Self in an interview with The Guardian newspaper:

Hot stuff, man hating Hilary Mantel:

She attended Harrytown Convent in Romiley, Cheshire. In 1970 she began her studies at the London School of Economics to read law.[2] She transferred to the University of Sheffield and graduated as Bachelor of Jurisprudence in 1973. During her university years, she was a socialist.[5]

Manjaw queen Deborah Levy:

Levy trained at Dartington College of Arts, leaving in 1981 to write a number of plays, including Pax, Heresies for the Royal Shakespeare Company, and others which are published in Levy: Plays 1 (Methuen)[2]

Alison Moore's The Lighthouse. Can't really find much on her admittedly. 

Jeet (dam it feel good tae be de gangsta) Thayil:

Born in Kerala, Thayil is the son of the writer and editor TJS George, who at various times in his life was posted in several places in India, in Hong Kong and New York. Thayil was mostly educated abroad. He received a Masters in Fine Arts from Sarah Lawrence College (New York), and is the recipient of grants and awards from the New York Foundation for the Arts, the Swiss Arts Council, the British Council and the Rockefeller Foundation.

And finally: Tan Twan En.

Tan studied law through the University of London, and later worked as an advocate and solicitor in one of Kuala Lumpur's most reputable law firms before becoming a full-time writer.[2] He has a first-dan ranking in aikido.

Well fuck me pink ken. Notice the similarities between them?

They all have worthless degrees.
They all come from extremely prestigious universities.
They are all, to quote Captain Capitalism, crusader types.

Now here's where it gets even more interesting. Read their life biographies if you have the time, roysh. What does a cunt see? The answer, is nothing, sweet fuck all, the lights are one but there's nobody home. These people have lived literally the most boring, pathetic, dur be dur, comfort filled lives in existence. They get their little degree from their well off rich tit parents, work some shit little job because they be twats and theys be narcissists and too good for de calculus, and then get hit by a positive black swan and voila, gravy and rainbows! Them cunts are all edgy and cutting edge and all is well in the world.

Take a look at some of the great writers and what do you see? Lord Byron fucked men and women including his fucking sister, went all over Europe and got himself into a fucking war just for the hell of it, because Lord Byron was fucken proto Chuck Norris/Roissy wrapped up with de bow. Chaucer was a high up page who got himself involved in the highest and lowest of medieval society. The Book of the Five Rings cunt, scary motherfucker no? Dostoyevsky was in a Siberian prison camp for five years and had a life long gambling addiction, was destitute for most of his life, married a nice enough lassiebum 25 years his junior and had a big fuck off funeral for him. Hunter S Thompson and Louis Ferdinand Celine, does a cunt even have to explain those two, I mean really? Perhaps I am being a smug cunt here, but I'd wager one of the reasons the manosphere is full of pretty good writers, is because they've actually fucken lived somewhat. Moreso than these faceless fucken goons anyway with their dumb cunt degrees. You may have a mixed opinion on Roosh, but his Dead Bat memoir is far more interesting than any Man Booker rancid shite you can think of. Roosh has lived ken.

This is how the system works. They have their nice safe upbringing. They dislike mathematical rigor and enter softie softie catch a monkey university courses. These courses have a marxist bent, so the noggins are filled with stuff like relativism, deconstructionism, post colonialism, in essence, just complete shite. The arrogance of the crusader, combined with his warped, stupid view of the world, plus his segregation from what society actually is leads him to write novels. But the novels are not straight up profiles like a Byron, say. There are few if any right wing writers in the media right now. They are taught to think in "class against class" and "lad against lassie" and thus the whole thing dissolves into a pile of postmodernist gunk. But, what sort of people read this shite? What sort of human being, what sort of giant cuntrod reads fucken Jonathan Franzen and enjoys it? Answer, the fucken peers. Sure, you get a freak three STDV above the norm like Tom Wolfe now and again, but overall, it's not about being a fucken human being. These days, fiction is about keeping up with the Jonses, nothing more and nothing less.

Do what GBFM advocates. Stick to the oldies ken. The Cathedral has corrupted the medium to such a ridiculous extent, very little is salvageable these days. Life is for the living ken? Nah, you write a good book, no one is going to read it, and if it is "good", you're probably an incorrigible shit. You entered the system, you passed go and collected 200 pound, you cheeky cunt you. Is there still a soul there ken?