Friday, 29 November 2013

Why Academia is Poisonous

When yous stare intae dat abyss, the abyss stares back ken.

Been reading The Rawness as of late ken, in particular some of his posts on ego superiority and making that plastic, doughy, false makeup, presenting yourself as being the smartest fucker in the room, rather than being the smartest fucker in the room. I talked about in other posts how I allowed this to fuck me up in terms of coming up with excuses for my failures, "oh, I'm not so bright" etc, which whether or that is true is beside the point, it is the fact that I thought like this that stopped me from trying. I accept it, and more importantly I feel it as well, but there is more going on here than meets the eye.

To sum up, I really fucked this bastard up.

So I used to be good at the field I'm in ken. Really good. Yet, since I got into this masters yokeamebob, I've turned into the shittiest, most useless student ever. Now, a part of me is cognizant of the fact that a lot of this was protecting my ego from damage, the material is more difficult so I don't want to say I'm dumb, thick as shit, I'd rather say I'm lazy cause that remains all sunshine and gravy en aw. This still remains true. But then, I realized what I've been doing with the course content all of this time.

I've been using it as an intellectual crutch.

When yous end up in academia, you tend to come across roughly three kinds of people and when I mean academia, I mean from masters level plus at a half decent university. The first two types are cool enough people, the third type is beyond toxic, and that third type is me, or at least it used to be. The third type of person is what makes The Cathedral so unbelievably dangerous as well and is the most problematic. So let's get to it. This is the type that populates academia the most alas, and the reason academia can be such twisty shark invested waters.

Type 1: The highly intelligent person who tends to be utterly indifferent/possibly hate with a passion the subject in question, but is just in there to make ends meet, get a slightly nicer job, nothing more and nothing less. This type is slightly depressing in that they feel yous could be doing better, but at least they are up front about it. Relatively harmless kind of person.

Type 2: The somewhat intelligent to highly intelligent person who is enthralled and in love with his field of study and wants as much knowledge on the subject as possible. These people tend often to be passionate, sometimes aspergery and nerdy, odd, but again, relatively harmless, more open kind of people when it comes to matters academia related.

Then we have type three.

Type 3: The somewhat intelligent to highly intelligent person who is indifferent towards the study, but who has co-dependency/narcissistic issues. So, that person uses the subject as a way to prop himself up, to look intelligent rather than be intelligent.

Type 1 doesn't give a shit. Type 2 loves it. Type 3 is a toxic little fuck.

K.

So I realized, perhaps subconsciously, that I don't give a fuck about my subject. I have no passion for it, no love for it. I was, all this time, using it as an intellectual crutch, while pretending to love it. So while I was failing at the game of life miserably, I poured my time into all these maths equations, trying to outnerd all these other failed excuses of men, all these losers who had no pussy, no passion, no stories, just differential equations and resonance and the fucking course, yeah, whatever. That's all it was. Ego nourishment. I didn't realize because I was just playing a desperate game of passively aggressively outshine the other guy with no real substance to it. I never saw myself as being the pathetic fuck that I was. Type ones and twos escape this, but the type threes cluster together, and then yous think you have a friend, but whambam, that guy failed and a cunt feels all gooey inside. Not healthy ken. Yet, over the past year or so, I've been able to recognize more womanly, "gamma" tendencies in those around me, and quite frankly it is revolting to see. The passive aggressive behaviour. The putting on the pedestal of shoddy women with flatulence issues. All of it. The problem with this as well is that you can't escape this toxicity. It rubs off on you. That classic bit of advice, yous are the average of your best five friends, no truer words spoken ken.

So back to The Cathedral. Toxic people, study, building up their fragile little ego. Since their definition of "Billy" is "Billy is smart cause he knows quaternion calculus", or "Billy is smart because he read the whole of In Search of Lost Time", what happens when some cheeky cunt comes along and tears apart your world view?

You take it as an attack on you, cause you're so fucken golden amirite?

I love the following video:


This is exactly what I'm talking about here. Schwarz is highly respectful towards Paul Krugman, and at the same time carefully, cleanly, cleverly dismantles his argument. Ninja motherfucker them Spanish lads. But the fat bearded forgetting to wipe his balls, Foundation loving tit starts freaking out by the end of the video. Amygdala blaring and all that shit, fucken beautiful ken. Type ones would go "yeah whatever you say man, fuck them bitches". Type twos would debate passionately and conceit if they were incorrect or not. Type threes are whiny Paul Krugman bitches.

For STEM, this is not the worst thing. But the social sciences and economics?

This is what I think happens:

1: You have the three types. Type ones drop out. You're left with type twos and threes.

2: Type twos get bullied out by the type threes.

3: Type threes dominate academia. Their ideas are the ideas of the day. Only way to join them is to be one of them in the same shitstorm. Cue ridiculous bullshit like neoclassical economics or "cisgender" privilege. So, when their ideas come under attack, they see it as an attack on themselves, academia being the shit flinging fireworks show that it is, and grasp onto their beliefs even more than ever before.

Paul Krugman, little bitch, grasps his ideas with as tight a grasp as possible. He pollutes people with the nonsense in his article, and thus the cycle continues on and on.

Doing something because you enjoy it for the sake of it, or because of purely pragmatic reasons is all and dandy, but the second yous put on a fa├žade, the wall crumbles. I'm a type one now, but on the other hand I'm not going to give myself excuses as before. Get be on with it ken. Being able to identify one's weaknesses is the only way to properly move forward, with a smile, drink and hot lassie in tow.

Thursday, 28 November 2013

Boredom

 
What terrifies, disturbs, sickens, haunts the deepest dankest darkest, dastardliness in full swing, crevices and ravines of the modern lad and lassie's minds, sin waves of fear, is not the exposure to some exogenous, blistering reign of terror, ashes, sulpher, impalement, Caesarism and shit, but it is a sense of horrible self realization, coming toos the conclusion that you are bored, that this job or occupation is boring, ok, but this is not just normal boredom, like waiting for a bus or whatnot, it is boredom of the most sickening, stomach churning, timorous kind that twists your stomach into itself. Boredom is killing you ticktock by ticktock stopclock stopwatch cunt. You are dying and there is nothing you can do about it.

That be the thing with the Office Space. Everyone is so nice. Everyone is so pleasant and kind and willing to help! But it is not the sort of chivalrous cunt coming in all bells and whistles on a big fuck off thing of a horse nice, rather it is a cautious kind of nice. Let's not beat around the bush here, yous are all kinds of fuck up. You'd have to be. Yous think if yous think in reactionary terms that yous are going to be all sunshine and lollipops? You see them movies, right? Dem Julia Roberts baboom lips getting it off with the bad boy and yet, when I slunk around in de Temple Bar after hours and see the silver faced cougar trying toos charm me into alleviating her loneliness, now I'm the pretty lad that stands there lol but of course, de feminism is awesome en aw!

Everyone is nice and everyone is frightened of each other. Everyone goes along to get along. The unattractive fattie won't shut up. There's all sorts of shitty petty gossip that you can't help but find yourself dragged into, ugly stinging gossip and if yous want to go full loner, then say goodbye and watch those sharks nip away at them ankles and toes. Yous are exhausted, drowned out, crying in the face as yous pile into your cluttered automobile. By the time yous get home, you pile another disgustingly delicious kebab into your mouth and plant yourself in front of de titbox, watching some fucken fictional chemistry teacher do what you never had the gall to do. Tomorrow is different you say. Yous pack a lunchbox full of veggies to stave off de hunger. The apocryphal hr lassie with de airbag tits goes "good your doing de right thing" en aw to you, while badmouthing yous to de coworkers about being a fruitful hippie. Analyst work sucks tits. Fat, jealous cunts who sign up and take a whip to the butt. Sitting in the fresh air during break time, only fourteen minutes left, shit, twelve, oh fuck, yous take a look over and them schoolgirl lassies wander all over, the beauty of them, all sixteen and seventeen and whatnot, perky tits, tight as shit, fucken hell like, one of them looking down and licking her lips and meanwhiles yous are back in that place with those people talking that shit because that is all yous have. All we have is now. The carpet has your footprints, but the room doesn't have any of your pictures.You'll approach tomorrow, right? Right????

That unfinished novel is still on your computer. Sure, only Cathedral cocksucking well off Oxford cunts get book deals nowadays, but it can't hurt right? Friday nights come and go and all the headless hairless chickens pile into a box of ugly incandescence, scoping out a fattie to titty fuck later on that night. Is this all there is, you ask yourself?

But then your dreams take off. You find a friend and then suddenly yous start talking to him. Your own fucking gang. A gang works best when yous and your gang feel like it is yous against de world. The job is killing you. Causality, the statistician's big million dollar vegas problem. Suddenly, yous see a job offer for Africa. Yous think of just money, money to get away, money so yous don't have to communicate with people anymore.

How do you survive Office Space? You can't. I'm sorry, you will not escape with yours brain in one bit. Yous will still dream of the sixteen year old or the witchy milfy type who gave yous a wink. Yous will still lose it. So what brings a cunt a spark, a zest, like a boisterous child, to his stagnant life, is trying to expand the cracks in the subtlest ways possible. Yous are causing all sorts of mischief and nay cunt can pin it on yous. Here's a fun game for yous, try and wind up an effeminate little gamma with your views of the world, all ugly and raw and swollen and red. This is my dream. My dream is toos be out there where the landscape is scathing and exciting, when a cunt well and truly realizes for the first time that society doesn't have your interests at heart and that you should not feel even remotely bad about sticking up the middle finger and uniting with your brothers when it is all said and done. Your job is your biggest problem ken. Everything sides that is just steel breezes blowing against a stone statue.

This is what be up your ally. Yous are shamed into doing what you are doing. You have been institutionalized by the corrupt entities around you. Whereas you outside this transparent sphere, yous dream of something that cannot be measured in gold coins. You dream of freedom.

Problem: Office Space is fucking you up bro.

Solution: Make your life as antifragile as possible.

Things have never been so swell. Cunts can share some of de endorphins if you really want.

There is nothing more terrifying in the modern age than boredom. Get out of that shit as soon as possible. Look for environments where you can grow in leaps in bounds.

Sunday, 24 November 2013

Blog Updates


Just a few things and then back to regular posting. First, I've been a right old lazy cunt with linking into other sites. There's a hell of a lot of great material out there by great bloggers and I haven't been linking them in. Of course, I'm not necessarily in agreement with them all of the time, but they should definitely be chucked in there, so that is what I'll do. Going to clean up the appearance of the blog some little bit. Second, I am engaging in two projects which might or might not come to fruition in the next while due to work related stuff. If I don't do them, then I've learned my fucken lesson, don't post something unless yous have finished it.

These are the two projects. The first one is a sort of a lightish piece of fiction, essentially an attempt to get me into the habit of writing and compiling stuff a bit better. I want it to be as good as possible, but I appreciate that at my age and my experience, it will probably be poor enough. Still, you have to start somewhere and you must fail to succeed.

The second one might be more interesting, and I'll need your help for it. Even though my statistics skills possibly aren't as tight as I'd like them to be, I am interested in using empirical data to at least show there is a relationship between various variables, basically variables that have to do with beliefs in the manosphere. For example, I want to run regressions showing the impact of sexual partners of women on divorce rates. Now, a regression of this nature will be subject to flaws such as causality and measurement error and whatnot, but if people can point me to datasets like this, that would be enormously useful. Essentially, project two is going to be quite technical, but the point of it is that, hopefully, if I get around to doing it, we can prove feminism is evil quantitatively, and that we're not pulling these theories solely out of our asses. If you can send me links to good data, then I owe yous a pint.

So that be it lads, let's see how this all works out. Good luck with the hustle ken.

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.

Sunday, 17 November 2013

The Weird Wonderful and Frightening World of the Ego


Ack, the lad goes as he reads yet another post of de beguiling Well Hung Franco on probability and variance and armchair psychology, and all that be gravy en aw, as he wants to see a post aboot some "Minecraft pin dicked cunty" lad masquerading as some head honcho alpha bollocks, riding some lassie in a nightclub toilet in a shitty pub on Dublin's north side. Well, no, this post is not purely to do with probability and variance, it has a bit of content that relates to the ego and how a cunt moves through de life en aw while knowing where to step and not get the legs blown off by big fuck off landmines.

In a previous post, I've talked about how a lad can build up a Russian doll of an ego, wrapped up in something toxic, something deleterious, as in my case, it was trying to come across as looking intelligent, rather than trying to be the best person I can be, to not build that house on sand. Take a look out for this elsewhere as well.

I fail at life because I'm living in a racist society and people hate blacks, not because I'm failing as a person and am just an unlikeable cunt.

The patriarchy is keeping me down, white men are privileged and they are so shallow! It's not my fault I got so fat!

I fail with women over and over, but these poor lassies are troubled and don't know what they're doing! I'm so nice and I will get the soulmate I deserve!

Those engineers who are earning good money are miserable cause they did maths whereas I know about life and people cause of my English degree! Isn't working in Starbucks great?

This goes on and on and on and on.

In my opinion, this mindset is arguably the most damaging for the cunt or cuntess. It gets in the way of true personal development, being the best man or the best woman you can be, and the worst thing about it is that this toxic form of thinking permeates all aspects of culture and society! Recently, I was watching Glee with a few beers in me, and get this roysh, this fucken lassie who looks like MC Flashhammer is fucken rejecting this guy, this guy who is like underwear man on billboards level in terms of looks, because she has the fucken options! You go fatty fatty munch munch lassie! Everywhere a cunt looks, we are all victims! We are all losers and are meant to just sit down and take it, laugh smile, make excuses and continue on. You may think you are impervious, but when the volatility of everyday life fucks you over, when excuses pile up and up until your soul looks like a game of Jenga, that be when shite hits the fan and yous are out on your backside, kicking, screaming, gucci little fake eye.

I think there are three stages to properly getting out of this emotional rut, and this applies to something like, yeah, fucken approaching lassies as well.

1: Read The Rawness. I cannot stress this guy's blog enough. Along with pre 2009 Roissy, Moldbug, Nassim Taleb and Nietzsche, the guy has really changed the way de Franco thinks about things, tenacious cunt that he is. Try and realize what is going on with your inner makeup.

2: If you can identify what is going on, that is quite simply not good enough. You have to experience it as well. For example, you can be the fattest, smelliest, pig faced cunt in all of the world, and you might be cognizant of your sexual market value, the only lassie that wants in your pants be the ones of the pyknic, less than aesthetically pleasing variety, and you might not necessarily have any ego delusions about yourself, but you don't feel it. When you go to a nightclub, get shot down by a lassie in the most horrible way, then you feel it. Then the darkness sets in. Then you realize you might be a lot closer to the left of the bell curve than at first glance.

3: This is the most interesting stage and the one I am really, well and truly struggling with, but it is the stage of what makes a man out of a monkey, as the world plays the smallest kit imaginable.

Think about it this way.

Where did your greatest successes come from? When the sausage suit cunt lifts weights in the gym, how many hours of eating well, injuries and discipline did he give up? When the player walks in with the hot Russian bird, how many rejections has he had to put up with? When the mathematician is going all A Beautiful Mind on your ass, how many hours of pure tedium did he put up with trying to learn what difference equations were, while all his friends were out drinking?

Suffering is winning and winning is suffering.

That is why stage three is quite painful, and it is hard to get out of. Not only have you realized you have failed in such a way and all your delusions are gone, you will have to suffer even more to achieve your goals. It's all too easy to fall back into your ego trap of "they are all smarter than me!" or "well, he's good looking!" but that means you take things as they come, you drift along, you temporize, every station in life you move through without making any movement and then yous be on your ass, withered and shit, dreaming of Lily Long Legs and the fact that you never even gave her a smile, no?

It is what it is. All the stages are important. You need to recognize the problem. You need to feel the problem by removing all forms of blinkers. You then need to realize that there is a harsh, austere landscape to traverse and you need will and strength to make it across. For example, even though I've talked about the ego in terms of intelligence before, I fucked up big time in the past two months or so. I accepted a place on a masters university program and ended up making all these excuses for myself to make up for the difficulty in the material. So, upon engaging with the course material, I kept saying to myself "I was the dumbest and worst prepared in the class" (which is somewhat true but still no excuse for being a lackadaisical titbird)  and "I'm not going to work because if I fail, at least I can say it was due to lack of work!". The result is that I'm in danger of flunking the whole course, because I've been scared of putting work in, of plowing through the work, of challenging my ego and quite possibly come to the conclusion I might not be bright enough, pure and simple for the course.

At least if I wasn't intelligent enough for it, yet I worked hard, as unpleasant as it is and failed, I would know my limits in a certain area of life, and try and make it up, bounce back elsewhere, which in the long run would be far more emotionally healthy for a cunt. This is what I mean by feeling it, and as a result, I've been approaching the last while in a whole new different mindset, the next few weeks will be furious ken. It's simultaneously frightening and exhilarating, to realize that this is all on you and there be no safety net behind it all to catch the floundering cunt. The question is, how antifragile can one's ego possibly be?

Here's the thing with losers in this lad's opinion. A loser is not someone who fucks up in life per sae. A loser is someone who fucks up, and then refuses to look at the reason why he fucked up. This is why yous should take pity on de feminist lassie. A giant list of excuses, a tick de box lists of excuses, to hide the monster inside, to ultimately realize that achieving is suffering and suffering is achieving and that be that and yous be on your owns there. 

Saturday, 2 November 2013

Randomness


The left may not want to deal with randomness, but randomness will want to deal with the left.

When it comes to the nerdy, twatty neoreactionarie fuckos rattling round these here parts, vituperative, depressed, saddened, on their own, lambasting the left for what it is and what it has become of de West, trying toos isolate where umm...this all began, how systems, the metamorphosis of the cunt's beliefs in office, how a cunt can deal with this, the schism of left and right, down the upstair a fiend must go no? If right wing is reality, then left wing is theory, but theory without experience is nothing but spoon and sausage to the cunt on the street ken. 

And that is where randomness comes into the equation.

Consider the unspoken rules of the left. These vague, transparent concepts that are hard to pin down, the vocabulary of words, racist, homophobia, misogyny, rape (thanks feminists!), meaning whatever a lad wants them to mean. Equality for all! Gender is a social construct! 10 percent of the population are faggots! Men like empowered women! So thinking about this, what kind of conclusions can one extricate? Well, consider a world where equality "exists". What would such a world entail? To make someone more equal or unequal, even if every lad and lassie on the street is a carbon copy of each other, you have the big bad elephant in the room. Sometimes, the gods smile down on the Well Hung Franco and voila, the essence and flow of karma, and Franco is fucking your slag sister up the bum. This be randomness ken. And at essence, this is what progressivism is about. It is about the fear of randomness and the fear of death. Mankind's greatest/most horrible achievement will be the one of being able to properly, correctly model randomness. Not space, not manipulating genetics, not a cure for the lass with a face like a pig on ecstasy, but randomness. The left is terrified of probability.

Consider the lobster ken. Economics. The millions of transactions between agents, supply of demand, money and fiat currency, different countries with different climates, a mind boggling enterprise all things truth be told. If yous are familiar with economics these days, (feel free to correct me, this is from Steve Keen's Debunking Economics text), yous will know that economics is highly mathematical, highly aspergery and highly boring, in that it attempts to model individuals in the economy, human decisions, through mathematics, the so called rational consumer being used as a starting point. So, forget probability. Forget the mindboggling, how the bloody fuck does a cunt start with putting pen to paper kind of thing, and all of that jazz. Applying physics or engineering to this shit does not work ken. It is an attempt to eliminate randomness itself, which in cause leads banks, corporations, bureaucracies even more open to a catastrophic event that causes many a domino to cave in. The Austrian School I think understood this concept quite well.  Race Realism is another. The fact that different races have strengths and weaknesses cause pandemonium as a cunt cannot use his nice clean system of thought that might be logically consistent, but when it comes to applied work, to reality, you need pretty lie after pretty like to keep the facade going. Thus, the whole thing stops, the light collapses into earth and we sit back in awe, wondering how it happened, with all of our brilliance and all of our ideals.

These are the two biggest examples, but yous can see it throughout. Homosexuals are all victims of oppression. Faggots are nice people. When homosexuals rightly point out the degenerate faggot culture for what it is, you upset the binary, all them sententious fucks with nary a brain cell toos rub together, cunts be fuming and raging ken. When a christian who has a hot ass wife, is smart ambitious happy and successful, you fuck up atheistkult. When you try and explain there are different types of love, you take a shite, wrap it up in a Subway wrap, and shoot it out of a cannon, amidst a rancorous bleat of Wow, just wows. Everything is in black and white and everything must be made to be in black and white.

This is quite possibly the single most dangerous component of leftism. Sure yeah ken, walking into that brave new world with blinkers on ain't that gravy at all for any a lad or lassie, be the nice lad and the fat lassie and everything be gravy en aw, but dinnae a lad see what happens when you try and chase randomness away, as what the left be doing right now? You get boys who are not allowed run in the schoolyard because it is dangerous. You get falling standards in education. You get peer review in universities who are frightened of the precocious lad with the glint in his eye. You get corporatism. Oh, shit ken, that clusterfuck of a paper, that model used to forecast weather patterns is objectively mathematically unsound? Yeah, global warming for all ken. The system builds up and the smell gets smellier. People live opulently and sniff Charlie three days a week, but at the same time Springfields being filled up with garbage.  Luxury and ignorance of the tails ken. Suddenly and sadly, everything converges to zero.

Bill Powell had an excellent post up a while back. "It's about the memories, not the consequences". Life is a clusterfuck of randomness. From the moment yous were born, count your lucky stars yous weren't bent over in an Afgan brothel or fighting it out on the cold under the bridge en aw. The world is chaos and random and sad and bloody and dark. This is not a moral, ethical question for the left. It's about practicality and about realizing randomness is what randomness does and all a cunt can do is sharpen that stick and take them hits, nothing more and nothing less there be to it.

God might still love you but I don't know.