Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Grammer Nazies


OCD is pretty bad to have. 

Really, it is. Imagine if you had to put everything in the correct order. You would get offended if things didn't go you way. 

Is it bad to have? Yes. 

I'm surprised. Is this disorder rather a form of autism? Hence, retarded? I think it should be. OCD is mental retardation. 

OCD is also practical. Scientist, Historians, Mathmatician, *cough cought, Computers, work with patterns. Constant patterns. If one pattern is not right, everything is wrong. It's not an excuse to make mistakes, and for that matter, be human. 

Imagien being a bar. You put your beer to the left side. Someone with OCD is sitting to the left of you, with beer on their right side. "Excuse me, I prefer to have beer right hear. Your invading my privacy." Really a nerd that dosen't have social skills (not getting sex either). 

There's more to it! 

Spelling. Out of all the things in the world, spelling seems to be the top priority with most OCD nerds. How can you examine your own langague? How do you even "spell-check" speaking? Someone goes ahead a says "naysaw" when the OCD idiot corrects and says "N.A.S.A." Some have called this person the "Grammer Nazi." 

The Grammer Nazi fails to understand the most basic princible of life. Human language is a langauge, not a science. I have never heard of a Japanese spell-checking their peers, or a Zulu checking his peers, or a Hindi checking his, and everything but the English langague cares less about "spell-checking." Spell-checking is an assult on langauge. It pretends it's helping, but rather pretrudes. I know what "good" teacher and "bad" teacher means. 

Let me digress hear. 

It is good to have the correct spelling when publishing any written work. Not to be "professional" or "smart." No. OCD people miss the point. It's because other people will cite the work. The written word is interpered in many ways. The Bible could say "all men are created equal." But others will denonce and says the written word really means is that Jews were created equal. The text is open because it is in print. Any printed word could mean anything. It's just symbols after all. 

You, the reader, have understood that is a diary entry. You know words are spelt wrong. Does that mean I, the writer, is ignorant how to spell to word, or, am I typing really fast and care less what the keys I punch have to say? 

Use some social skill dude. You fucking Grammer Nazi. 

If you were good at all, you would correct everything for my own benefit. I know I want my written words to be cleary understood. 

I really did publish the word as "papple" not "apple." You should use your social skills and realize I typed it the wrong way. But my intention should be "apple." Please help me and re-correct the word in your own draft. 

But this is an original manuscript! How dare you mess with my original text!? I didn't mean "papple" as apple, I meant to say Papple the 4th, great philospher on some bumfuck internet forum. 

This is where things get annoying. 

Is it possible to avoid someone with OCD? Yes. Call it out on them. The art of writing is not some grand art to wordsmith as you go. No. Dumbfucks believe in that shit. Like if writing is like being some kind of innocent piano prodigy. I feel sorry for anyone who thinks like this. 

C'mon dude, you watched that TV. Everything you know is made up from some fictional role model. You have no freedom. 

OCD is for mentally retarded people. Some people, who are not know as mentally retarded, have OCD. 

Like a majority of American women. 

Always but in, think they know best for their diaper chaning son. "Kiss me goodbye." "Watch you manners." "Don't use foul langauge." Stupid nonsense shit. She thinks she is doing it for your good, when most of the time, she is not your mother. She dosen't have a fucking clue how words are written. 

I should be greatful that I have a digital typewriter like this. I can write without distraction and write whatever I feel like. The "gobble-dee gook" my brother calls it. But my "gooble-dee gook" is my own word. 

Imagine If I died the next died and you hacked into my files. 


Well looks like you have to read all of my written words. Who's gonna fucking spell-check now? 

It must mean I'm some kind mentally retarded, illterate, fool myself. Stop reading now, if you can't another typo. 

I really do believe the artist is above everyone else. Some really "get- it," others dance in their own shit and pass it as "art." 

One day, they will make a machine that can physically write down words, like I had a pencil, while I type everything out. That way, you can look at the text as art, better yet, langague! Speaking has no words. Stop fucking spell-checking. 

Has it came to you that the fact all written journals, prior to 1960, were hand written? Now, in the context of today, all journals and diaries and written with a keyboard. This is no movement of the hand. Things have gotten more scientific. More OCD advocates. 

I write my journal with the Freewrite. Everyfinger dances in rythmn against each key. I playing a video game. And the controls to this game is the English Alphabet. I am only pressing the words that can cread words, and then make setences. I am writing while playing a game. I am using my own langague. This Freewrite makes things easier. 

Have you ever tried to write something? Or did you have to wordsmith each word you wrote down. You fucking retard. 

I really hate people with OCD. I have to deal with them. And have to tell them the same philosphy about writing over and over again. They just don't go it. I'm not sure if you "get-it" either (only true artist due). 

If this is not your thing, stoip reading. You can find wisdom somewhere else. Those who "get-it" see the wisdom already. 

Just so you know, I know one stupid bitch in my English class who does to me daily. She's going nowhere in life, I know that. 

Less OCD People, more artist. That all I ask. you "get-it?" 



Long Live Snapchat!


People are naturally weak. Unlike their ancestors, who hunted animals and fought over food, people "survive" with 9 to 5 jobs, trapted in their cubicles. The check pays enough for electricity and materialistic things. Unnessary. Real-life adventures inculde "getting into college" and "having sex." These are consider life changing, once in a lifetime, amazing expiernces. 

How low people have become. 

Oddly enough, I'm not sure I should use the Astrohaus Freewrite forum for my own use. If their's nothing to write about, I might as well type it out. It's all about the post count in the end. That's a good user! So, I went ahead and wrote a topic, "New Screensavers?" It's obvious that Astrohaus will update the screen savers with new authors. Right now, there is only Asimov, Christie, and Poe. 

Now, some idiot cat-lady by the name "aura pixies" (something escapist) budge in and wrote about how there needs to be more non-white authors and how great of a "queer" writer she is. 

Weak people in effect. 

First, Asimov is a Jew. Christie is a woman, and I'm not so sure what Poe did on the cat lady's birthday party. Has she ever read about Poe's philosphy? Well, with weak people, everythin takes place in the "mind." Weak people follow other sheep. They take all the current insitutions as a good. Ironically, they wish the insitutions to be more good to them. The insitution is nothing more than a globalist, capitalist system. All they care is for a mindless consumer, and it's tricky seller (who was once a deluded consumer, now a deluded salesman!). It's a big jerk circle. 

Second, she is a "queer" who needs a "voice." This really sounds like Ethno-nationalism. 

If so, I would like a voice for White Nationalism (if I go ahead and play the game). But of course, her cause is differnt because she is not the majority. That makes her reasoning special. Another irony, is that, she relies on White men to make sure she had her own little state. We get to pay for it, and she can do what she wants. It's like a spoiled brat and her atomized dad. A recepit for diaster. If there was no white men, there would no be queer state. Yet, she wants no white men to begin with. She want's "women of color." It's why I replied back, "...Savitri Devi?" A woman of color, and a Neo-Nazi. Isn't that queer enough? Nope. That's "racist." That gets to the whole point that this Ethno-Nationalism is Leninist self- dtermination. Or in other words, "Cultural Marxism," or something sinister made by the Left intellgensia. 

I don't think I have to state a third resaon. Made be, naturally, every single cat lady is passive-agressive. A diesase the all white liberals tend to have. But I know other passive-agressive types: Suburban moms, Graduate students, Bumfuck nurses, Teachers, pretty much those who feel "entitled" or who are liberal. The only people who do feel passive- agressive are my own people. I'm so sure what the evoultionary streagy was intended to do. I only know my own kind likes to think everyone is white like us. Inculding the cat lady who can't write on her Freewrite because a Jewish science-fiction writer offends her "mojo" to write about how bad The White Patriarchy is. I don't blame cat ladies, I blame weakness. She is a naturally weak person looking to cower under something. 

It's so easy for white girls to cower as well. It's easier for them to be "feminist" because they can be victums to. This weak society is mentallaly retard. It rewards the victum, the inner weakness, than the strong. Other than that, maybe it's something deep with in our consciousness as a people and we are falling prey to alien forces, as Jared Taylor would say. 

To win today, to climb the ladder, is to admit to somekind of weakness in one's self. Imagine, a fat black girl calls a white girl racist and sexist. White girl replies, "you don't know what it's like to be trans and lesibian." Passive-agressive is produced by weak people. Someone is enablling the masses to be weak. I assume the verdict is the New Left school of thought (not Conservatism, they failed to them). Well, Frankenstein is alive and will bite them in the ass. It really is rather a reflection of the privitized, atomized, indivulized, upper-class con man. His original intention was just to have a safe, white gated coummunity with tons of materlaistic stuff. In return, his weakness and cowardice made everyone a pushy "queer" to climb the professional queer ladder. That's of course how you get a job. I do belive a majority of people are faking it. I can be gay too. I act lik it and become it. I just never put my dick in a man's ass. Showing the intention is much easier than becoming it. Another sign of weakness. 

Everything is in "the mind" with the weak. The mind won't help you find animals to kill or women to fuck. It's natural for anyone to act weak. 

I expect to bump into more cat ladies in the future. 

A meditation in advance: 

Cat ladies are normal people. They are not eccentrics or real queers, they are normal people. That's what this Leftist society wants. 

Cat ladies are incohrent. Their mind is based upon thier own ego. Selfishness. The desire to consume than to buy. Everything around them is a toy in their playroom. "If it existed to offend me, it should not exist." 

Cat ladies are boring. Thier written langauge is about how "opressed" they are and why they are differnt. "I am a black queer and this is what I have to say." Nothing logical. No proof of evidence. Things are "racist" because "I saw it." A lanague game (I just read Sam Delany's Racism in Scince- Fiction. He did not mention on incident of so called racism. He claim he sees it). 

And finally, Cat ladies are agitators. They are not in it for the greater good. They want to tear everything down because they are weak. They don't have what the powerful has. Cat ladies are jeaolous. They are offeneded to the thought that they are not in the discourse. They refuse to listen to certain information becasue they don't get it. They listen to their Deconstruction fathers and go upon buring things to the ground. There is no moral, revoutionaly reason for "Black Lifes Matter." They are Nationalist doing what they do best. Naturally segreating in a diverse area (Diversity is source of conflict). Hopefully, history will not be written that way. Maybe history will finally favor the White Nationalist. 

"I was wrong and you were right!" They all say. Everyone wants to say. The weak like it when we talk like this. Nothing much happened after when Aura Pixie wrote her comment. Some other person posted some author of "color." 

The Freewrite, the very tool I am typing on. Is the ultimate bourgois tool. I write houw I feel. I confirm personal beliefs nad opions. I am you and you are me. I am Issac Asimov and Poe. I am famous writer no one is reading. I am watching myself like a YouTube celebrity. Writing, ironically, is obsolete. Why write anyway? Writing confirms an old traditional loved by the turn of the centurary baby-boomers. Writing is a pretensious habit with nothing to offer in the market. It is a secret  angauge held by those who can read it. The written book will not last forever. It is already no longer. 

Long live Snapchat! Long live the new media other than the written word. 

This is not satire. Stop trying to deconstrcut what you just read. I am watching you and you are watching me. This has no poltical agenda that will suit your lifestyle. 


Some thoughts on langauge and dreams I had.



I woke up at 10:45. I dreamt about driving the wrong way and some pissed off guy on a bike gave me the finger. I almost ran over a fat kid. I thought I could of gone to jail. 

The place looked alot like the valley forge shopping center, wenter trader joes and the big Staples. 

The dream was a mash of feelings. It's not coming back to me. Too tired. Want to masturbate again, but have nothing to do it to or have nor purpose. I just like to admire my penis. 



Midnight journal! Right before I go to bed! Hope this works out too. 

Tired, but can't fall asleep. I jear trains crashing to slow down. Can't really see anything with my glasses on. I will wtiye anyway. Got my back hunched on the chair looking over the glowing screen. The crickets are nice to hear. 

Today, I wrote some thoughts and wrote / printed out a table of word count and publishing type. I'm crurious. I want to create a daily writing habit this summer until late August. MuyShakespeare class got cancelled. Will have to do it in the fall, worse of it, indpedent study. O hp[e everything is ok. My internship would then happen in the spring. Maybe all of it can happen at once. I just want to be done college.. It's not my fault that I can't find the right classes offering. Everyone is jerking off in the summer. I would rather not think of my scaring experince at college... my mind keeps lingering back to it. I don't know what it means anymore. 

The key are really nice on this machine. Almost like plastic. This really helps with my ADHD. 

I Can't Think. Will go to bed until I get back up. DVORAK or COLEMAK should be on this keyboard. I would like to try it. . 

Gotta get a USB stick tommorrow. 

...If my mind is not echoing, there is nothing to write about it. This is my skinner-box. Press it on, to satisfy my desire to record. A habit I am trying to grow.


5-12-16. Dreams. 

First dream, I was at this big EDM club. Everyone was dancing in an outside stadium. A lot of energy and strange faces. This girl group came out. A beautiful ganguro Japanese girl came out (dark skin, blonde hair). She wore a skirt and a spralke sliver dress. Singing of some sort, she climb this very high diving board. She then did some jumps, and dived into the swiming pool. As she dove, her skirt was shown, you could see her naked butt. Diving in the pool, with a big splash, she stood with her back against everyone, turn her hedead, and crossed her fingers, as "peace." A signal of her invitivting sexaulity. 

Soon after, so fake documentary came on. My voice was apperiating her beauty. Japanese that speaks good English. She was talking something about gamebooks. Old symbols in past, from Egytian times, had similar symbols about turning the page and life stats. Her argument showed pictures and new versions aside. It was strange. But I was more focused on her beauty than what she had to say. 

Second Dream. I was back at Green Valley Academy again. Private high school. I was driving my car, and tried to park between cards. I got anxious. So I drove out, and tried it again. This trucker guy was very paient weith me. Somehow, this would be my first semester at Green Valley again. I know the whole school system is like jail (worse part, I'm paying for it). I wanted to get out of there. The first class began. It was a class about "Japanese/Asian Studies in Postmodern America." The old lady teacher showed a YouTube video. The video summed up that there is a music genre called vaporwave, American video games try to act too much like the Japanese, and Donald Trump, is the ne facist, "Big Brother," then is enterying our liufes because he was such a friendly face in the 80's. I liked the video so much, I had to start a discussion starter. I began with the sentence, "In the Post-West envioment, It began with this Gen-X celebration about love and conformity, and now, there is some confusion with Millinials about existing in society..." As I was to countinue, Lucy-Rose, Puppy, showed up. She was biting me. Wanting to obviously play in a session where I had school. At the same time, I had phlem in my throat (which I still do now as I write. A little sick?). I escorted puppy out of the room and dismissed my question. I went back into the room. Tried to restate my question, phlem in the throat again. I could help not but to chuckle. The fact is, this is a dream, and no one in the dream world, will understand what I will have to say. It's just like my experince at Rosemont. 

I also remember this strange kid, that wears football armor. Red and blue. Brown hair. Senesitive. He showed the video, I think. It had some couple of shojo mangas. One I knew about and told him aloud. I'm not sure what he symbolizes. Possibly some kind of idenity politics. Some arrognat pride through Asian Studies. This is the pushy student that supposedy wants to be the center of attnetion. The teachers pet? There has been too many of them today. They never learn that no one is actully listening. They are rather confirming personal belifes and opinions through the clas they spend money on. Life becomes utterly meaningless after when they are done. No sense of belonging out in the market place. Only their mom and dad's money to spend. 

Foggy dream. A little sick. Dust got on the machine fast. Have to swossh or put a blanket over it. 

-Neeed a mini lamp over my keyboard at night. Still need USB stick. 

-Right now before midnight, just found a blank USB stick I can use for Freewrite files. Excellant. Also, Patrick of Astrohaus just sent me a message saying they will make future update for screensavers. New authors! Maybe the three function choose-an-author for a screensaver will come true. My infulence works. 

-How many words to we speak a day? -How many words do we write a day? 0-? 5-14-16 

Always boggy in hte morning. Woke up at 10. Masturbated to black girlfriend porn twice in the hour. Didn't feel like writing down my dream. I was in some school again. I was in a workshop for "Ernst Hemingway and Social Justice." Later, I was in some class about race. As usual, the black kid cries agaisnt the naive white kid. I tried to say something at least PC and witty, something to do with ordinary life. No one was listening. And this was a dream! It wasn't worht writing down, but I had to. 

Got up, had an apple, looked outside. Thinking of Cause & Effect - Shakespaeres Garden. Good song. Wish I had a album in that style, with electronic covers. Digital computer sound. No one is in the house at the moment.Buying tickets for me and Alice, beach day. 2. Buy $200 worth of Magic cards I made. 3. Buy a PS4 and Doom 4 (could not even play it on Friday the 13th, the day it came out!). And buy a mini-lamp at night so I can see what I'm writing when I can't see the keys. The thing is, it has to be a soft lamp ,so It won't hurt my eyes. 

I am trying to start the Freewrite habit. If I am a writer, I must write everyday. I must find my comfort zone and find my own voice. Writing will also improve how I think about sentence structures and speaking. What is being done when I touch the keys? 

I must ask myself the following two questions: 1. How many words do we speak a day? 2. How many words do we write a day? 

I will add these estimates to my Google sheets. This is something I should of know in school. Will do it now. 

How many words do we read a day? Mind Speak Listen Read Write, 5-15-16 

Last night, I was thinking about the structure of langauge. My brain is speaking but I want to go to bed. I have to anaylze that behavior next time. Good monks know how to shut up and go to sleep. Think of nothing. Noth even blank. 

The langangue structure goes like this: 1. Mind 2. Speak 3. Listen 4. Read 5. Write. 

First, langauge is understood by the mind. The mind! Everything is in the mind, Leftist would argue. Chomsky argues for "universal grammer." We see an elephnat, and know, the elphant is dangerous to begin with. Or do we know
it is a friendly grey thing? The mind translates things through pictures. It is the mind that helps creates langauge, the self, and intelligensia. The mind is the greatest thing that mans man a super being from his animal counter-part. 

It is then, do we communicate through speaking. We speak to others using our vocal choards. We translate our enviorment and abstractions through sound. Langague is differnt through out the world. Speaking as well infulences the ego. Are we speaking to ourselfs? We never even know it? We mean to speak to the other human that knows how to speak too. Like the Zulu, or any other African tribe, there is no need for a dictionary. A dictionary is an invention by Western man. All Zulu know there langauge. If you knew the word, you would remember it. Like Chinese to Japanese to Korean, all came from Chinese, and then variants were created through enviorment and proxmity. Technology plays a part in this. We speak most of our lviing life. We speak about 15,000 words a day. 

We also try to listen to the other side. As we listen, we learn new words. We learn about sound. Emotion translates the signals. It is sound that is so important to our own reality. Speaking creates a sound. Some who don't write, only learn through speaking. Students are better of listining to a lecture than speaking. There is nothing good to speak because there is nothing to learn but other's speak. An older person with wisdom has the better speak. Casual speak will go nowhere. Those with wisdom and experince end up teaching. Everyone could teach. Some wisdom is better than others. Sound could infulence us through movies, music, and lectures. 

More important than sound, is reading. Reading and writingare advance concepts. To read, one has to understand written langauge. And to write, one has to understand to read. Reading is an alterantive to speaking. Prior to the Guttenburg press, everything was told oral. Preist after Presit would share the history of the world with each other. No everyone could read, even write! It is hard to imagine in the past 200 years of the Western histroy, reading and writing was only available to the elite and upper- classs. It is greatful that I can even write my thoughts everyday like this. Only a group of elites knew how to read and write. Reading is important because it is langague on print. The written word started originally started as a string of nonsense from a session of speaking. Th Egyptians capture this through pictures. The Chinese were smart with their caligrapy. We would further create the sentence, the topic, the thesis, and ultimate structure. Written words sere a purpose to write down histroy, thoughts, infinitley forever. Words are ultimate. Like all relgious doctrines, words are wisdom. To read further improves speaking. We learn
new words and are mindful how we speak. Even to the fact we can as well learn a new langague. Once we have mastered reading, we can finally write. Some have know to write without reading. Old Japanese is know to create scribbles, as a way to accomodate sound. Like a soundwave. This has a foundation in speaking. Writing clarifies all langauge through a science.

It is not ultiamte, but serves a a guideline to clear langague. I am greatful to think, speak, hear, read and write. It is hard to coprehend another forigen langauge like Japanese. It takes dedication. Like creating a new "Operating System" in brain. 

This branch of lanague struture can be used to understand how people learn. How we communication, and how we create art. In an age of extreme egotism, isolation, and autism, to learn this branch is important for critical thinking. It will help accomplish the goals I want to achieve. 




The Left-wing / Right-wing dictomny. 

It's hard to imagine the history of European people. The most significant turn for our people, was in the year 1789. This was the start of The French Revoultion. Soon after, which follows is variant periods. The Romantic period, The Victorian period, Modernist period, Postmodernist period, and now, something of a Post-Postmoderism is happening. It's been 200 years. As a people, we are at civil war with one another. The problem with us keeps getting worse as technolgoy keeps getting better. One sense of the ordinary is improved, then discarded for another "ordinary." Whatever happen to our natural lifves? As peasants? As hunters? As animals? Not as intellectual beings. We are now referees to a game we don't want to play. Every possible thought comes across our thought, and we embrace it. Life now is our own responsbility, so everyone can be like us. 

The Left-Wing / Right-wing dictomny is the most important concept in our lifes. As a race and as a culture. It is a game we made up. The Frecnh Reveultion did open up Pandora's Box. It all start we the overthrow of the king. Two separate parties we made. Those for the people's interest were on the left, and those who wanted to retain order were on the right. The French language is complicated. Cultrually, it was the "left" that disguised itself from "us" and "them." The Right never embraced itself. The Ultra-loyalist went along with it, as it was a safe code. Once you give in and play their game, you surrender. That what has slowly happened to the so-called "right." or, shuld it be called, "ordinary life." 

There is no balanced system. The left and right is not a blanced. It is not ying or yang. First came the interest of the "left," and then that school of thought argued against the "right" (ordinary life) as the enemy, and the left the good guys. The rigt only embraces itself to fight against the left. 

Everything after has been a word game. Words like "racist," "sexist" "cisgender" "political-correctness," is all but talk of the left. The left rules our consciousness spirtually and cultrally as a people. If explained to an ordinary person, you would be outed as a conspircy theroist. "the left," translate to a group of people, like "the jews." The left is so natatural, it is like breathing. One cannot think about breathing. Breathing is just is. 

An Axiom: "The left," is nothing more than an emotion as European people. "The left" is our passions, emotions, and dreams, coming into reality. "The left," is the desires and manifestations of white people. "The right," was made up my "the left," to belittle ordinary life. Those who are on the far- right were once on the far-right. To be a Neo-Nazi is to go against the whole histroical narrative as a people. The far-right is only countering the dogmas of the left. They are the reactionary party. A world where The French Revoultion has been an ultiamte disease for European people. 

What is the difference between the two? The Left, is about the mind. Everything takes place in the mind. the left belives that the mind can become a reality. Whatever one thinks, can become tht form. It is a sense of freedom of the imagination. Freedom from "opression." 

the left belives in egalatarism. If one cane think, one can be do the ssame. Equality is strived as the most important issues is because the left want's everyone to be happy. The left want's everyone to have the same power as the free person has. There is no system of opression or rules of law. The left seeks to make European man free from nature. Everythin is there for him to eat. 

The left also belives in hedonism. Life, to the left, is about achieving satisfication. The greater good wants nothing but ice cream. The left imagines a world where every feeling can be achieved. They want to experience constant emotions of joy and suffering. But, suffering is traded in for joy. Happiness is ultimae for the left. The left would like life to become a happy narrative, full of confidence, sex, food, and adventure. Everyone can attain their own social narrative. There is no conflict, because everyone is happy. The left wants freedom from nature and enternal hedonism. 

The right, however, defined by the left, are the exact opposite. Natrually, the so-called "right" is the ordinary life. Ordinary life knows that there are limits as human beings. We are born, we live, and we die. There is nothing of materalistic achivement. Life is about procreation, survival, 

and the enjoyment of "being." (Martin Heideggar). We are animals. Our body chemistry is hardwired to do natural things agiasnt out own will. We are hungry, we are horny, we have to shit. The left is ultimatley appaled at this reality. 

Furthermore, the right is in;egalatarian by nature. The ordinary life embraces hierachy, natural order, the weak and the strong, the survival of the fitess. There is no higher langauge or intellgensia. Concepts like "reasoning" "logic" "a thesis" is langauge by bourgeois European man. None of this talk is use to surive in the jungle. Animals kill one another. It's not good or evil. It's the way life is. In-egalatarism is the most important vaule of ordinary life. Ordinary life is naive and ignorant of this concept. That's how powerful natrual life is. The left wans to reform all of this. The left is the "enlightened" and the right are made up of "barbarians." It is the job for any liberal, to educate a group of barbarians and reform their lifes into an intellect, or become enlightened. (indoctrination). 

Contrast to the left, the right is all about survial than of hedonism. Enjoyment is from living an ordinary life, not the pursuit of materalistic, advance, concepts of "pihlosphy." It is the reason, why all major relgions, outside Christianity and Judaism, is a form of the "right." To talk to a liberal, to say Buddahsim is apart of the "right," is as well appalling.
the liberal seeks to enlighten everyone from "bad" to good. To become a PhD, to study other subjects, and to label things as "right" or "left" is the langauge of our people. We are ultimatley playing the game of the left, and of The French Revoeultion. It's why, they will on one second, protest for "free-speech," and then protest agaisnt "hate-speech." They like to say, "Free speech is not hate speech." It is because, "free speech" is nothing more than liberal speech. Frechn Revoultion rehtroic. Or, leftist rehtroic (controversly). 

Is it possible, for somone on the so-called right, or reactionay position agiant the French Revoultion, to go beyound this way of thinking? It;'s like, we as European our stuck in our own ways of thinking. A dog must see other animals as dogs. We as white people see the world also as pan- European people. It is the most hardest philosphy conundrum to get over. We are sinful because we ate from the tree of God. If only we lived a natural life... Just like Africans, Chinese, Japanese, Indians, and everyone else. Our intellect is our burden. Yet, it gives up the powerful to become artist. No one else on this planet made the internet, cars, spaceships, medicine, books... we made it up! This is what we should take pride in. We do, but keep it a secret. We would rather use the langauge of the left we have made up. European people like to feel good from being "above-it-all." We feel good when we feel like intellects or doing something morally good (something out of Christianity). This is a problem. Our own emotions advocate our own demise. Mass civilization and globlasim is not helping.  ...a further discussion of thinking about the left and it's consequences. 

Is it ever possible to reach nirvanna with our thoughts? Our, is it the dooming infulence of the left? The left wants to reform everyone into utopia. The right is just is. The left wants to pick on everyone who dosen't fit their agenda. It is all about reforming. Our greatest problems have 

been about communism and ideology. A leftist treats other subjects as barbarians. A constant struggle to win trust with other leftist how pure they really are. It's why there is no safe ground with leftist. They hate themeselfes equally how the hate ordinary life. They want a revoeultion against nature. 


Duality left/right


There is a duality between the public and private life. The aritst is caught between the two. However, both tend to be bourgeois to begin with. An artist can publish his art for the masses and have an agenda behind it. The artist is well known of this. The artist may also, write private, mediatative thoughts to himself to. An arist may create his art for his own amusement and try to find a personal path of maturity and growth. Either the public or private tend to benefeit both the arist. They are both bourgeois because the aritst confimrs personal bliefs and opions through art. There is not much of a struggle to create art. This is one concept that is hard to persuade the audience. 

In the pirvate life, I tend to think of Mark Hollis of Talk Talk and for writing, J.D. Sallinger, Robinson Jeffers, and Martin Heideaggar. The pirvate life is about improving oneself. Both Jeffers and Heideggar built a cabin out in the woods to experince life and "being." Sallinger was more of a scizophernic and eccentric. His art was a preverted hobby of his. Mark Hollis wrote a song back in the 80's called, "It's My Life." A pop song about living the life he wants to live. Little did anyone know, Hollis was mad at the record label and his band for the boring profession and had to live through. Hollis wanted to live his own life. Eventually, Talk Talk's sound become more repressed and quiet. The break through album, Spirit of Eden, was a diaster. The pop audience didn't get it. The album had 6
tracks. The sound was almost nothing. Hollis refused to release a single for the album, but the label soon tried to make a video for one song. Hollis 

was embrassed. Talk Talk, by record contract, released one more album after Eden, and then dissapered into obsecurity. Hollis has not released material in over 20 years. He would rather publish his music privately and shared among his friends. Oddly enough, Talk Talk has gained a cult follwing among music aficandos. Hollis rather proved to be "resisting" agiasnt the music establishment. Talk Talk's sound would later infulence the ideology of Radiohead and U2. The slow, depressing guitars, and experimentals synths become stable to the indie-electronic music of the 00's. This whole scene of music, is admired by Hollis's need for privacy. In recent time, electronic muscian Aphex Twin released over 100 basement demos over onto the streaming website soundcloud for free and eventually, taken down. Music lovers have 

an apperiation for te private lifestyle. Aphex Twin never had intentions to release his demos publicly. As if, privacy is better, becasue the artist gets into his own world and creates his art authentically than ironically, such for a public record label. The obession with pricacy has become a new obession among crtics and the audeince. 

However,public art is just as powerful as the private. Possibly greater than the infulence of private art would ever be. Why such a double standard then? Public art for writers, would be on the lines like New York Times best sellers, and for music, typical arean rock or mainstream music. Mainstream books, like The Bell Curve or The Kite Runner, have a great amount of infulence over poltiics and culture. Often public books are dismissed as becoming apart of the current zeitgiest and have no lasting infulnce as "literature." (literature itself is an elitist club, every genre has it's own literature. the real "literature" has something to do with invention, innovation, history, or civilization). Public books are predictions of the future. They engage in a conversation with each other. The End Of Histroy by Francis Fukayama was popular in the 90's becuase it hyped up the endgame of an egalatarian neo-liberal globalism the naive and upper-class whites so gladly wanted to hear about and promote. This never really came true. At the same time, a book called The Holocaust Industry by Norman G. Finklestein argued that Jewish culture relied heavily on the holocasut narrative and the justiifcation of the state of Israel. Jews were made at Finklestein and called him self-hating and anti-semetic. A few years later, the terrosit attacks of September 11th happened. All because the radical islamic terroist hated our assicioted with Isreal. Finklestein predicted more violence in the future because of Jewish asscioation. Fukayama's work is now nothing. He was wrong because he denied the conflict of Jews and Muslims. This something also brings to mind of Samuel Huntington's The Clash of Civilizations, where all cilivzations will clash for an endgame globalism. Or, is life an eternal struggle between nations and there is no unity. Only whites tend to feel the nature of equality. 

As for music, music can bring people together more rapidly for political cuases. Electronic DJ's bring in more people than screaming girls for The Beetles. Everyone comes together for a sense of belonging. And hedonism. Private art attracts so-called intellectuals, while public art attracts the masses. In the end, public art proves to be more infulncial. A massive massage is more important than a special, indiviaulize, intelelctual one. 

The problem occurs among the public in the private. The public tends to "water-down" or "mainstream" private art. Elistist get mad at lifestyles and cultures. The elistist wants to be understood on a one-on-one discussion. As soon as a third person enters the discussion, it becomes an invasion of privacy. The bridge between two people are broken. Four and Five people create a group. The elitist becomes isolated. Art becomes public. The elisitst has always wished that the public could become just like him. He always wanted the masses to live by the mind and be equality. Everything to him is a game made up by talking out problems, by strange equations, odd Western concepts, like "reason," "logic," and a "thesis." Non-whites are overwhelemed by this langauge. The elistist wishes that there could be a Shakespeare on every block, a Milton on every corner, and a Plato in every coffee house. It is unfortuante to him, because the public life will never become the private. 

The public life is about the ordinary. Everyone is an animal on this planet. What makes humans really that different? Every human being, like every animal, wants to procreate, surivie, eat food, bask in the sun, and get high off the feelings his body is hardwired to become. Our k9's, are front teeth, are no longer used for eating animals. Through evoultion, they quickly dissapered. Why is it that our back teeth must be taken out so soon? Without surgery, we would just have to live with it, like all other animals do. Ordinay people want to live ordinary lifves. Intelligence is meaningless. It is agaisnt the natural order of the world. Most will revolt agiasnt this. Western man want's to live a perfect life, from the mind, and have a will. He cannot realize, everyone dies. He is outside his thinking. 

Private art is exculsivly loved by elites. Public art is loved by the masses. When we create art, we express ourselfs. There is no danger in this. Often, the elistist will prasie private artist for expressign themselfes publically. This is expressed as a sign of courage, bravery, and confidence. This what the intelligensia likes. Art agiasnt the public. This in return, is damaging, because it is agaisnt the ordinary, the good life, the animal life, us as human beings. Public art will always triumph because it is a message for everyone else. There is nothing wrong with private art or public art. Public art could be dangerous on the effect that the artist is a narrcasiss. To know that public can read your art, changes your perception as an artist. To constantly know someone could read your public/private thoughts, is both wonderful and dnagerous. Wonderful, that the artist provides wisdom. Dangerous, that is art could be "deconstructed" or crtiized as insane. Public artist will always be paronoid what they create. Private artist are confiednet in ultimate expression. Hoewever, all art can fall under the public. 



Green Room


Trevor Lynch impression...

Late one afternoon, I saw the Green Room. It weas a typical horror film about 6 teenagers who play in a punk band and get trapt in a Neo-Nazi Skinhead venue. They play an utter bad rendetion of "Nazi Punks Fuck Off" and the skinhead cult locks them, without apparnet reason in the "green room." As with all teen drama horror films, drama assures, blood and gore stays traditional, and everyone dies but the nice guy and his hot newly met girlfriend. 

I really did'nt know what this movie was really about. In fact, I was told by my goofy brother that this movie was about Jean-Lu Piccard and his group of skinheads fighting a group of punkers. This obviously sounds like a comedy action film. Worse, my brother brought his so-called punker friend to watch the film too. No one was in theater. It was just like the time I saw the meloncoly film, Hemingway in Cuba, an indie film just like this one. 

I have to say, by all true standards, I could not find anything "indie" about the green room. It is another pulp horror film. The only conculsion I have thought of is the fact the film has assciations with punk music. Is that the true spirits of indie films? Stuff White People Like? I think so. Even if it is another horror film, supposedly the difference is that it is a horror film with punk music and culture in it. The punk theme has nothing sp[ecial to offer in the film. It's really about these evil skinheads. 

You see, these group of young hedonistic teenagers could of avoided all of this, if they havent booked a show at this skinhead venue. And worse, telling them to fuck off. The skinheads are the real victums of this movie, not the innoncent anti-racist punks. 

It is the oriental nature of the skinheads to kill people they don't like. They shave their heads and wear boots like a cult. And they listen to god awful evil, racist music. The head hancho is some bald kind that passes as Breaking Bad, and is nothing like William L. Pierce or Ben Klassen (It's Patrick Steward). He tells his minions to go and toutrue these poor punk kids and eventually kil lthem if they escape. He is like an inhuman monster. A natural cliche to irrational nature of horror films. I don't think Dr. Pierce was ever like Dr.No. Resistane Records was an epxeriment for him to proceltize the working-class American skinheads onto his side. He was really acting like a liberal and telling the barbarian they are good (this is what ever post-enlightment professor does nowadays). For this bald badly Pierce knock-off, he is totally evil. Evil. 


There was some aspects of the mi-son-secne I like in the film. In fact, the film was based too much around dialog and horror shocks. I love seeing the classic "anti-racism is a codeword for anti-white" stickers everywhere. As if, The Alternative Right has really struck a nerve with this liberal director and the "tsk-tsk" shaming is in full effect. A statment could never be so true. And, that one part where Patrick Steward gives the one second in command skinhead his red braces. Obviously, everyone knows you get red braces when you killed someone for his race (best cliche). Other than pitbulls and the music, the director's knowledge in skinhead culture was lacking. It was just the same old Hollywood Nazi skinhead, the 14-88 scene, things saw in the movies. This is not a ring-wing film, but a left-wing one. 

My brother only liked the film because of the skinhead aesthetic. But, this is not the authentic kind. It is liberal shaming. How can an actual
skinhead or Alt-righter really enjoy a film that paints the movement in bad light? It's just not possible. The Peeping Tom apperciation won't do. Having swastikas in a film won't get our ideas across. 

Now, the film starts with these left-wing teenagers saleeping in their roadie bus in a cornfield. The green haired teen needs gasoline to start
the car. The free boy and girl finds a car and hijacks the gasoline with a pipe and steals some gas. How cool of a lifestyle is that? Later, they get an awesome college radio interview, answering, "which band would you want
to have listening on a desert island?" (Unfortuanley, none of them said Korn or Limp Bizkit). This is unfortunely, the ultimate theme to the film, I
will get to that later. After playing a gig at a "normal" venue, there poser mohawk punk agent books them for a gig at the skinhead place, telling them "to play thier earlier stuff" and they are "ultra-right." This was the only part in the film that had mention a left-wing / right-wing dictomony
in the whole film (honestly, this is ultimatley anvoidable to any cultural group of white people. this something anyone must answer in order to
mature). Well, they walk in the racist club out in the middle of nowhere, and realize the stench of racism in the air. They decide to bravely play a cool and edgy cover of The Dead Kennedy's Nazi Punks Fuck Off. This was a sign of their high minded morality, as all the skins booed them off. Moreever, this was proabley the reasons why the nazi cult locks them up in the green room in the first happens. 

And thats jsut what hjappens. 


The plot gets really confusing afterwards. Some dead skin girl is on the floor too. Did the other skinhead guy killed her? Whatever happened, it's another high-mindedness why skinheads are so evil, they kill each other! 

Now they are locked in the a room, and the 6 teenagers just want to go home. I bel;ive one of them, the red haired girl, says shes jewish. How overpowering. One skin has a gun, and is ready to shoot them all without reasoning. 

Skipping ahead, they get into a fight. Lights go out. The dumb kid falls for Patrick Stewards trust, and his arm is slashed in half by some red lace thugs. One punk chokes the fat skin, and the misunderstood girl slices his stomach open. They all try to go out, the stupid green haired kid gets mauled by a cute pitbull. They back in the room, only to go out again, and the jewess gets shot in the leg, and mauled by the cute doggy again. Some shootouts later, the half-arm punk and skin girl fall for each other. Obviously, tow heads are better than one, and they work together to get out of this hellhole. Eventually, they get to Patrick Steward, trying to cover up the whole thing (becasue, you know, Nazies are evil). Some Western style shootup happens and is the most anti-climatic scne in the entire film. The half-arm and skin girl, wait for the policed, called in by the second in command skinhead because he realized everythin he is doing is wrong. 

This is where the movie is bad. The half-arm punk realizes "I know what band I want to play on a desert island." Only then for his girlfriend to tell him to shut-up. Credits roll. 

When I was 17, my favorite bands were Skrewdriver, No Remorse, Brutal Attack, pretty much everything offered on Micetrap Records. I was in love with this stuff because I wanted to know more about the subject. No once did I become apart of Patrick Stewards army of cultist. The music was not hypnotising at all. It was made up of disgruntled thugs who cxared deeply about the people they loved. I mean, aside from the drugs and lower-class culture, Neo-Nazi punk music is a scene to be truley to be alive in. And somehow, If I was on a desert island, listening to No Remorse's Nigger Lover, I would become a violent cultist? 

By the way, Patrick Stward said nigga in the film, it was pretty funny, just wish he would of said nigger instead. 

The film is flawed because it turns out to be both Stuff White People Like (punk music/culture) and preachy shaming, within the context of a mainstream horro film. Seriously, this film should not be called "indie." If I wasn't indie, I want all black people to go see this movie and a filled theater. That is something I would prefer. But the reason why it really is indie is because white liberals in their gated communtiies, come out to their lower- class movie thgeater and see the film. At the end, when credits roll, clapping like golfers. Well, noone was there because the truth is, no liberal lives out in bumfucksville. 

At the end of the film, I always talk how I felt about the whole
expericne. As usual, with a party of 3, someone is not in-group and tension occures. My brother liked the film only for the skinhead aesthetic (boring). His dopey friend, I remember him saying "Well finally I can see a movie
for our demographics. A horro movie for punks." And the cringe-worthy, "The Nazies are my enemy so I kind of like the idea this horror film." Mind that my brother's friend is actually reatrded. It seems like what everyone wants is a film about themselfes. They might as well produce "indie" films about animated punk family cartoons, and punk romance comedeys, and punk dramas, and more punk horros while there at it. Everything relates to idenity politics. Whites have divided themselfes through materisltic culture and can't seem to go over and realize everything is about themeselfs. It why no blacks would ever show up to an indie film, because the word "indie" and
the theme is implicitly white, and therefor racist. The fellow black person just wants an ethnostate. 

I want an ethnostate too. But I can't stand an ethnostate with whites glolfiy an materaistic cultre with no meaning today. They are hanging onto their race, not the music. Green Room is only implicity white on the fact of punk culture and music, but refuses to acknowledge the turn of Nazi punk. It's like World War 2 all over again. This is the reoccuring theme with libeal movies. A bunch of West-Coast White Nationalism, and nothing much much to offer but running away from the real problems ahead. 

I'm getting sick of these "indie" movies. It might be the only way for liberal whites to express themselfs, but the nazi cliche has to go. Another special snowflake film in the IFC Channel gutter box. 

The only band I want to listen on a desert island is KMFDM. They might claimed to be left-wing, but their music is innovative and charming. Same with Depeche Mode, the best of our chartersitics is hidden behind the text. 



You're now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!

You both like Sex Roleplay.

You: F

Stranger: Hi, M19.

You: Awesome!

You: How are you? :)

Stranger: I'm fine and horny:) how about you? ^^

You: Great!

You: What are you doing up at this late hour?

You: Huh?

Stranger: Well, wanted to do some roleplay after a long time, mainly because I just couldn't sleep and didn't know what else to do:D how about you?

You: Aww yeah!

You: What's your name sweetie?

Stranger: Chris, how about yours?

You: Ying, but I prefer Zoe :)

Stranger: Damn I'm repeating myself so much?:D

Stranger: Great name btw!

You: haha thank!

You: So what do you do late this hour?

You: Chromecast and cuddle?

You: lol

Stranger: I think cuddle lol

You: What? No Netflix? haha

You: I fucking love spongebob. Wearing pink spongebob pajamas now

Stranger: Wow, that actually sounds hot

You: Haha, i know you you would say that! :)

You: I think you would be more into my black hair

Stranger: Aw yea? How would you like if I just grabbed it and pulled your head to mine so I could longly kiss you? :*

You: hahaha. your are the romantic?

You: :)

Stranger: Dunno about that

You: or you just saying that?

Stranger: Just saying

You: cool jazz

You: what else would you do? ;)

Stranger: Definitelly would take your clothes off :P

You: haha! your so eager!

You: it's so hot in hear!

You: idk if it's the city outside or if the room is too small

Stranger: Hehe.. I just got a hard on from you:P definitelly would love to put my cockhead on your pussy and just play there a little bit..

You: haha, yeah, i got no panties on!

You: i haven't seen it before,

You: you kiss and say stuff, but let me really see it!

You: are white dude's cocks really that big ;)

Stranger: Depends :P I have about 7 inches btw :*

You: get out. :p

You: Why are you after me then?

Stranger: Its already out baby

You: whhhaaaaattt

You: LOL

You: ahhhhhh

You: it's so pink XD

You: it's a stick! hahahaha

Stranger: Well.. thats a reaction, lol

Stranger: Wanna touch it? :P

You: omg lol hahaha

You: get it aways XD

You: wow

You: what are you doing! get in bed!

You: Your just standing there

Stranger: Mmm.. as you wish baby:P

You: hahah

You: it's like an animal dick

You: aha!

You: trying to put it on my leg?

Stranger: Ahh.. you talking about my cock like this makes me sooo horny to be honest..

Stranger: Here you go :*

You: haha

You: it tickles when you brush it o me

Stranger: It tickles my cockhead too lol

You: guys always say that about their cock

You: hahalol

Stranger: Ah

Stranger: You mean it like this XD

You: yeah, no shit, my pussy is hard too!

You: hahaha :)

You: omg shhhhhhh

Stranger: Mmmm.. lemme touch it with my fingers :P

You: my roommate is in the other room!

You: i don't want to hear her fucking my boyfriend at this hour haha

Stranger: Awh okay haha

You: shhh

You: haha

You: ok

You: lights out

You: kiss me :)

You: under the sheets

Stranger: Mmm :*

You: :>

You: :)

You: you like when i touch it?

You: <3

Stranger: Yea, baby.. feels soo good..

Stranger: :3

You: i bet you never had a girl on your cock before! haha!

You: cutie!

You: kiss

You: and your balls!

Stranger: :**

You: haha

You: like when i tat them like this?

You: haha

Stranger: Awww god hell yea hah

You: ha balls are so strange

You: or like

You: what if i slap them

You: you will get hurt! XD

Stranger: Ohh cmon

You: haha :)

You: ok

Stranger: You cant even realise how much it hurts :D

You: yeah

You: im turing red from this excitment

You: ok

Stranger: Aww sweet!

You: turn me over

You: just let me face the wall

You: to the right

Stranger: Mmm, yea..

You: ok so

You: just pull down my pants

You: and you know

You: just like

You: put your stick around it ;)

You: do it soft

Stranger: Sure baby :P

You: can't do rough tonight!

Stranger: Anything you say :*

You: haha

Stranger: I mean everything hah

You: your hand is so sticky!

You: and warm

You: on my butt

Stranger: Mmm.. what happens if I slap it a little? :P

You: haha

You: ouch

Stranger: Mmm..

You: omg

You: your strong!

Stranger: Wasnt everything I got baby :P how about this... mmm..

You: I know you love chinese ass!

You: OH

You: ahhhh XD

Stranger: I love this ass of yours baby:P

You: put your arms around mine

You: yeah

Stranger: alright

You: haha my long hair is touching your cock

You: i can feel it. so strange

Stranger: awhh

You: yeah

You: chris

You: yes

You: keep goin

Stranger: mmm, yess,..

You: baby

You: i feel it

You: so good

You: yes

You: baby

Stranger: I love that baby:*

You: i love you

You: yess

You: :)

You: haha

You: im getting wet

Stranger: mm.. my cock is rock hard all the time :3

You: yeah

You: haha

You: feels like im outside

You: feels like a monster on me

Stranger: can I play with your tits a little, baby?:* come here..

Stranger: mmm..

You: what? haha

You: You like flat chest?

You: ahhhh

You: i love you so much

Stranger: yeaa.. the nipples..

You: your crazy!

Stranger: let me just suck on them a little..

Stranger: mmm... :33

You: ahhhh

You: now your being pervery

You: oooo

You: such a cute beast you are

You: <3

You: kiss

Stranger: mmm, yea :**

You: kiss me

Stranger: :** mm

You: long kiss

You: taste me

You: wrap your hand around my head

You: :)

Stranger: yes, baby :* lemme put my tongue into your mouth..

You: your kisses

Stranger: sp I can play with yours..

Stranger: mmm :*

You: are so sloppy :p

You: kiss

You: i love you

You: your such a nice guy

Stranger: i love you too, baby:*

You: :))

You: cum on my leg

Stranger: awwww

You: jerk t

You: it

Stranger: you're this perverted? <3

You: its so powerful!

You: quick

You: your not wearing a condom!

Stranger: mmmm.. gonna cum really soon.. ahhh..

You: your an animal!

You: honey

Stranger: here.. on your leg... ahhh!

You: OO

Stranger: im cumming...


You: haha

You: lol

You: wow

You: hahaa

You: it's like your peeing

You: with white goop

You: lol

Stranger: awhh.. yeahh

You: omg

You: let me kiss it!

You: <3

Stranger: ahhh, yes baby.. I'm loving these kind of kisses :33

You: nice man

You: this is mine <3

You: your gonna look out for me

Stranger: all yours :*

You: take a pic of my leg

You: don't show it to anyone!

You: hold on

Stranger: yes, baby, I promise

You: another pic

You: like me get one with your cock

Stranger: mmm..

Stranger: here..

You: cock selfie!

You: omg lol

Stranger: awhh haha

You: kiss

You: suck

You: awww :)

Stranger: you cant actually imagine how much im enjoying this.. :**

You: i love your white cock <3

You: so glad i met you

You: foreplay me

You: come hear

You: kiss me more :)

You: i love you baby

Stranger: mmm... :** kiss

You: mmm

You: i love you

Stranger: i love you too :3 mm.. my cock is all rock hard again from you.. mm

You: your so soft <3

You: yeah

You: sweating

You: :)

You: oh it's so hot out

Stranger: yea..

You: what time is it?

Stranger: don't even know anymore baby

You: haha

You: bend over

Stranger: mm, yea?

You: what is it

Stranger: i dont know baby.. really..

You: yeah fuck it

You: :)

You: mmm

You: let me lay on your chest

You: close the window, city too noisey

Stranger: alright.. come on my chest baby :*

You: :)

You: kiss

You: yeah

Stranger: awhh your tits.. mmm

You: hehehehehe

You: you can cum twice?

You: ;)

Stranger: for you? of course baby :**

You: hehe

You: i feel so safe

Stranger: mmm.. as you should when you are this close to me :*

You: :)

You: i love you whisper

You: :)

Stranger: mmm.. how about whispering into your ear how much i love you ? <3

You: :)

You: haha

You: i feel so slow now

You: and tired

You: your such a great guy

Stranger: ahh, thanks baby :3

You: :3 you too

You: :)

You: what's happening tommorrow?

You: my left leg is so stick ha

You: sticky

Stranger: haha, put it here so i can make it even stickier with my cockhead with precum :**

Stranger: ahh..

You: haha

You: get it away! :)

Stranger: mmkay baby

You: mom is coming over tommorrow

You: you got to look good!

Stranger: ohh alright

You: no jock shit like you like to do :P

You: or any of that "bro" stuff

Stranger: ahh cmon haha

You: i just you to leave a good impression on her

You: i want to be with you :)

Stranger: so do i baby

Stranger: alright

Stranger: will do

Stranger: for you :*

You: :)

You: Your so sweet

You: You know...

You: we are totally gonna have 4 kids! lol

Stranger: ahh you want 4

Stranger: wow

You: haha

You: we can do it!

Stranger: sure thing:*

You: two sons, two daugthers?

You: or all sons or girls?

Stranger: dunno, i think two and two sounds the best

Stranger: what do you think?

You: hopefully so :)

You: Zoe, Chris Jr.... I love "Alice" great name

Stranger: mmm, sounds great baby!

You: Baozhai!

You: moms name

You: just call her "betty" haha

You: :)

Stranger: mm, okay baby :)

You: well, there's tommorrow!

You: let me lay on you

Stranger: yup

You: go to sleep dear ;)

Stranger: mmm... wanted to cum for you for the second time but okay baby ^^ whatever you want :3

You: ahhhhhaahah

You: cut it out

You: !

You: :)

You: let me kiss it goodnight

You: kiss

You: already too soft

Stranger: mm yea

You: ill suck it like ramen noodles lol

You: your a fucking stud

Stranger: awwww baby

Stranger: cmon you know how this turns me on

You: guy's dicks are so strange

Stranger: why do you think so baby?

You: little red tip and everything

You: i laugh when i see yours!

Stranger: well the tip is the most sensitive part.. ahhh cmon!

Stranger: haha

You: :)

You: aha

You: goo to sleep dear

You: Goodnight Chris <3

Stranger: Goodnight Zoe <3

You: ;) <3

Stranger: btw wanna do the morning or you are leaving?

You: wut?

Stranger: well

Stranger: we just went to sleep in the roleplay right?

You: go to bed dear haha


You: or kik me

Stranger: I already am in the bed :D okay but i prefer skype if you have it

Stranger: whats your kik?

You: Umm, I got to go babe. Whatever. 

You have disconnected.

Who cares about Books? Stuff White People Like



Who Cares About Books?: Stuff White People Like.

Christian Lander’s book Stuff White People Like (2008) is an amazing accurate account of bourgeois whites living in America. Often stereotypical and satirical, Lander hits hard with truth at what “the right white people” like and how they try to purge against “the wrong kind of white people.” The book presents entries that the “right” kind of white people like. One entry is about “Books”,

“The role of books in white culture is perhaps as important as organic food—essential for survival. However, understand that this is not about literacy or reading, but about the physical object of a book. 

Try this out as an experiment. Show a white person a photo of a living room that features an entire wall of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. They are guaranteed to response by saying how much they would love that for their own home and that they are planning on having a living room just like that in the future. 

This is because white people need to show off the books that they have read. Just as hunters will mount the heads of their kills, white people need to let people know that they have made their way through hundreds or even thousands of books. After all, what’s the point of reading a book if people don’t know you read it? It’s like a tree falling in the forest. 

…the best things you can say are “You made it through Infinite Jest? Wow”…

…If you get them a book that they do not want, you will be forever viewed as someone with poor taste in literature. In the event you get them a book that they want and do not have, they are forced to recognize that they have not read it, which instantly paints you as a threat. There is no way to win when you give a book to a white person.” (Lander 187-188)

The “physical object” of a book is interesting. These kinds of whites don’t want to read a book which improves reading and literacy, but rather, the book is a physical object that represents class and power. It doesn’t even matter if this kind of white person has ever read it! The nature of being pretentious is unfortunately prevalent within the arts. English as a discipline as a similar background.

Dom DeLillo in his fictional book, White Noise (1985), wrote a word-salad story about upper-class white life in the 1980’s. The protagonist, Jack Gladney, is a professor of “Hitler studies” and teaches at “The-College-on-the-Hill.” Already written like a science-fiction novel, why would “Hitler” be so important to people? (Think Baby-boomers, WWII, The Holocaust, and be-nice-to-each-other multicultural society) DeLillo jabs at the novelty academic and his purpose to try make sense of the absurd. DeLillo describes the professors at the college,

“They are hear to decipher the natural language of the culture, to make a formal method of the shiny pleasures they’d known in their Europe-shadowed childhoods—an Aristotelianism of bubble gum wrappers and detergent jingles.” (DeLillo 9) 


“The impression is one of pervasive bitterness, suspicion and intrigue.” (10)

The professors are cranks. Much can be said about the culture war what happened in the 1980’s. Ronald Reagan capitalism, electronic music on the radio, superfluous cartoons and materialism, and a nostalgic return to 1950’s America, 30 years later. Do professors like Derrida, Lacan, and Baudrillard even have integrity, or making sense of a world they want to resist against? Anyone with a Ph.D during could get it in Hitler studies, so as long one has the dedication, the money, and the rhetoric to back it up. The topic of “postmodernism” becomes the subject of the 1980’s zeitgeist. 

John Berger, another one of these types, wrote in Ways of Seeing (1988) that art can be seen in many different ways (obviously). But in a way a postmodern critic can see it and how the boring normie (internet slang for normal person) misses it. See the elitism? However, he writes that art criticism belongs to, “the esoteric approach of a few specialized experts who are the clerks of the nostalgia of a ruling class in decline.” (Berger 32) Berger wants the non-elite classes to be enlightened through their own art criticism.

“Yet very few people are aware of what has happened because the means of reproduction are used nearly all the time to promote the illusion that nothing has changed except that the masses, thanks to reproductions, can now begin to appreciate art as the cultured minority once did. Understandably, the masses remain uninterested and skeptical.” (32-33)

Berger is referencing some of Jean Baudrillard’s Simulacra and Simulation (1981). This is the theory that what we perceived as real is actually “simulacrums.” For example, If I go to McDonalds, and order a burger, is it really a burger? Or, is it a thing with fake-meat in it, buns colored with dye, and presented as the shape of an actually burger? Some McDonald’s dropped the word “Chicken” from their Chicken Nuggets menu, creating just “Nuggets.” Berger relates to fads that elites likes. This might even be from Michel Gondry, Public Radio, and “Black Music that Black People Don’t Listen to Anymore.” By the way, all referenced by Lander in Stuff White People Like

Berger continues that, “The art of the past no longer exist as it once did. It’s authority lost. …What matters now is who uses that language for what purpose.” (33) Interesting, because Berger is also concerned with “questions of copyright for reproduction…” (33) This gives away his Marxist desires to abolish private property. Berger feels like “power is everywhere” the same way Michel Foucault feels about things.  Now, does high art really belong to the public? (this might be a heresy against postmodernism)

Walter Benjamin’s essay, The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction (1936), argues that art is so powerful, it can influence political motivations. In an age of reproduction, things are recreated and presented to be real. However, they are not “authentic” because they have a secret political agenda behind it. Art can be isolated and be appreciated by an individual. However, once it’s reproduced for the masses, it loses it’s original aesthetic and the meaning is changed. This is something like Hitler saying that the film Metropolis or the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche are advocates for National Socialism (they are!). Once art is produced for the masses, art caters for them. Quote,

“Every fundamentally new, pioneering creation of demands will carry beyond its goal. Dadaism did so to the extent that it sacrificed the market values which are so characteristic of the film in favor of higher ambitions – though of course it was not conscious of such intentions as here described. The Dadaists attached much less importance to the sales value of their work than to its uselessness for contemplative immersion.” (Benjamin, Section 14)


“Mechanical reproduction of art changes the reaction of the masses toward art. The reactionary attitude toward a Picasso painting changes into the progressive reaction toward a Chaplin movie. The progressive reaction is characterized by the direct, intimate fusion of visual and emotional enjoyment with the orientation of the expert. Such fusion is of great social significance. The greater the decrease in the social significance of an art form, the sharper the distinction between criticism and enjoyment by the public.” (Benjamin, Section 13)


This is interesting again… Lander writes about “Integrity.” 

“”Selling out” is when an artist succeeds to the point where they are paid for their work and are exposed to a larger audience. This creates two big problems for a white person, the most immediate of which is the fact that this artist will now be enjoyed by a diverse group of people, including the wrong kind of white people. There is literally nothing more hated by white people.”

“If you are eager to impress this white person, say that you would take the money, then allow the white person to tell you how they would never put a dollar sign on their art. This will provide them much-needed comfort as they begin the long process of finding a new obscure artist to temporarily enjoy.” (140)

Benjamin was a Marxist sympathizer. Hannah Arendt helped publish it to really talk about the crisis of totalitarianism. After all, Benjamin writes “This is the situation of politics which Fascism is rendering aesthetic. Communism responds by politicizing art.” (Benjamin, Epilogue)

The political Left will sometimes go on rampages to destroy the past and start over again. I know Atari Teenage Riot wanted to “Destroy 2000 years of culture.” Let them. The art museum is a business anyway. Is there really a different experience to see the real thing when some replicate can do it better? Can the original Duchamp Fountain change my perspective of world, or can I have a better experience somewhere else? What’s so sacred and holy about original art pieces? Is there even a benefit to go see it? Some Millennials actually care about this coming election with Trump and Hillary because they are asking whether they are “authentic” or not.

“Is that Synthesizer Analog or Digital? Analog is sooo better.” 

“Organic or Non-Organic? Organic is much better for you.” 

“I have the first edition of Catcher in the Rye, it’s like reading it when it came out!”

Something sounds really bourgeois hear. Otherwise, it might be the truth that Western Civilization has a never-ending quest finding things that are “authentic.” This might be another honest thing that white people actually like. 



Work Cited: 

Benjamin, Walter. "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction." Walter Benjamin., 2005. Web. 24 Sept. 2016.


Berger, John, Ways of Seeing. (1988) Print.


DeLillo, Don. White Noise. New York, NY: Viking, 1985. Print.


Lander, Christian. Stuff White People Like: The Definitive Guide to the Unique Taste of Millions. New York: Random House Trade Paperbacks, 2008. Print. 








Nic Endo is not true Japanese and is therefor not a true punk (the jew, the black, and her)




The green moon arose from the horn of the mountain. The sky turned a bright white. Five little beetles dance in circle around the decayed corpse. The flesh was inverted, already chewed, still virgin skin. Great Lady reaped it’s last soul. The Beetles were to eat the last of the body’s flesh. For the obedience of Great Lady, this was the only way of life. 

The Beetle opened up its mouth and out came his long tongue - a Lamprey. The Lamprey began on the back of the skull, twisted it’s body around so it could crutch and break the skull. It sticked, never move. The Godess arose from the sediment layer. Blonde hair that reached to her feet and out of her anus. She stood 20 feet tall, as big as the mountain. A diamond shaped head, eclipsed against the white sky and the green moon, into a void less face with no eyes but a mouth and a nose. The beetles each opened the back of their thorax, out with long red sticks. A hum. A drone that made the green light brighter between her eyes that faced the decayed corpse. She spoke quickly in echos: 

“I love you. I love the life you have lived. I love you as a person. I love the choices you made and the struggle you been through. All your dreams never came true, but I believe in you.”

The red sticks swayed back and forth, like an endless run of dominos, a whirlpool around the corpse.

“I love the way you look. I love the food you ate. I love how much anxiety you carried, and how much you never let go. This is what I love, you. I love all the pain you have felt, and the existence you live now. Welcome home, Axel.”

Axel is the god of decay. Today he has finally died. Before, he was nothing but clay. Clay as in a human being. He has survived the trial and finally has decayed. Beatrice had fallen in love for the first time. 









How important is zero in our hindu arabic numeration system? where did it come from and what was its usefulness?


Zero is the number that means no quantity. It was first introduced in the Mayan number system, as 0. Zero is used as a marker in the number placement. With zero, we can know how many numbers exist in the tens, hundreds, millions and etc place. It can mean nothing, but it can also mean many. 




Out here in the wasteland is boring, incredibly boring. Me and Galileo had are share. Resting under some wore out thing of the past , “New Album Out Now! 3-12-2030.” The key to the past is the present. I wish I knew what it was like, but I’m not Shiro, so I wouldn’t understand anyway. Can’t believe old Galileo makes it this far. Last time he broke down and had to push him to keep up. Poor thing, he gets this far, he deserves better. Lampreys long ago use to live in the water. This wasteland doesn’t even have a proper Oasis. Well, none actually. Water is a rare thing too. The only “Oasis” to find out here is a Kenshin nest, don’t want to mess with those fuckers. My rifle has about two clips left. Galileo is resting on his side. Me too. Nothing is out here, not even good women. Just Kenshin nuts. Not even Kenshin women (surprised if they have any). The Sun is setting. I don’t there will be any harm under this old poster. A thing of the past indeed. What was it like to be Shiro? I kind of wish I was one, kind of wish I had life easier. Wish life wasn’t like this. 

Tomorrow we head south. Hopefully get to Akuma-machi by noon. I have enough Pokki to make it. If anything is in are way, like Kenshin, I’ll be ready. Those metal head maniacs won’t make me bow down to their so-called lord. Feels bad to shoot’em. I remember I shot one of them today. Sad really. He was coming out me full charge. Drops like a broken toy. Almost like a toy with all that junk on their bodies. Have to find a place to sleep in tomorrow and provisions. What the Shiro did to the old way of living, made life worse. It’s a struggle for us down here, but they don’t feel it. But If I was Shiro, I would hide away from harm too. Maybe one day I will see them. 





Got to Akuma-machi on time. The sun sets again! Staying in at a inn called Yuki. A nice Stewardess guide me to my room and offered Pokki. Nice, what I needed anyway. Haven’t seen a women in forever. She’s Chinese. A beautiful race of people indeed. One that I am not apart of. I bet some pay high for a Chinese doxy. Better than of Japanese. Years ago it was only the Chinese. Funny how things age. 

I shot a couple of Kenshin on my way. They were sitting around eating, probably each other. The youngest one shrieked a shrill noise. Distress call. I shot him down right in the head. Half of his head blew off and guts flew. …Or was it just the toys? The other guy came on Galileo, like an undead Ultraman (no pun intended, it WAS Ultraman!). Knocked out his plastic eyes with the butt of my gun. Galileo knocked the rest out like baseballs Poor Kenshin, both a nuisance and a joy. A joy to exterminate them. 

I have Ultraman’s mask right besides me. Kept it as a souvenir. It I put it on, sooner or later I will be one of them, masturbating to lolicon and eating Pokki. …well, not that much. Galileo will rest tomorrow. I’m going about town. I wish I had a place like this. Beautiful pink and red symbols of the past. Just like the Stewardess. I love the round bed, kind of like out of a Chanbara film. Their is so much to describe of it. I want the Stewardess to sleep with me!! I wish I was Chinese. Ha! Not Shiro! Going to find books tomorrow too. Maybe an actual place like this to crash. …Maybe this place!





The ocean laid flat as a closed window, ready to be opened by the incoming drake fleet. The Varr San Ironclad was about to face it’s dangerous destiny. Five dwarfs rushed from the ship’s quarterdeck and into battle. Hell storm, the Ironclad’s weapons, weighed a massive heap of the ship. A producing face of that of a dragon erected itself down and towards the horizon. Fire and Brimstone could set ablaze a whole fleet into hell. Chief Smarkle roared over quarters to Admiral Hinkledorf, “Doomreavers ahead!” “Bring them the storm!” cried back Hinkledorf. 

Ripples from Varr San raced towards that of the drake fleet’s. The impending collision against two deadly forces. The sky turned from grey to black. The Doomreavers were shaped of thorny black spines. 





Super Boston Terrier.


James Harton and his dog Leroy strolled down Henderson and onto Mayberry street. The sun magnified the heat onto poor Leroy. 


The American Artist


The artist cannot survive in the American project. The artist is against the wall with competion, loniness, and innovation. It' dosent matter what the artist has to say, because other people are living the same, cliche life that artist wants to live too. America enables bad behavior and pyscholigcal insanity. Someone can belive they are the reincarnation of Davinci, and live out their whole life in a small vilalge of Nebraska as a public relations agent for Sleepy's matresses. Everyone is opressed by the system. It's not "this is what I do with my life," rather, it's "this is how I made myself and whored in the capitalist system." Everything is inauthentic and primal. The lie is not about theroy or action, the lie is agiasnt the primal and natural order of the world: The strong take over the weak, sex is rewarded to the strong, violence is golden, people are tribal, we are no differn't from the monkeys in the jungle. The American sstem is relgion is facade the primal world. No everyone can understand this. It's like telling children the stroy of the birds and the bees. It's not about how sex happens, where a penis ejaculates sperm in a vagina. No. But a nice way of telling the primal world through the materialsitic and beorgious way of living. Somone could believe sex is from the brids and the bess. Sex is idyllic, not savage. Sex is beautfil, not alien. Sex is wanted, not achieved. THis has created a confusion about sex. "Not everything revolves around sex!" They might say. Unforutatly, it does. Every waking moment, animals hump each other for dominace. They have no adavnace langauge like we do. Animals purpose in life is to procreate and have sex. We desire the same. This is about power. Those who deny sex don't understand themselfs. The system has repressed everyone's sexual desires. In retrun, it creates perversions and boredom. We could talk about race they same way we do about the birds and the bees. However, the result is the same. Some belive that race does come from the birds and the bees! (only whites ironically). By beliveing in a idyllic state of mind, that race is not real, could one believe in race. Race is savage just like sex. People need a metaphore story to understnad the primal world to tghe beogios world. Maybe some people know sex and race is savage and primal. These are the boxers, the atheles, the war generals, leaders of the world. However, their success comes from manipulating the beorgious world to their favor. Women are submissive creatures with no peronsality, like Lillth. Blacks are monkey people. Whites are the center of the world of invention and civilzation. Those who are primal understnad this and exploit it. The liberal elite see this and are shocked. They want to change this perspective so man can be above nature itself! Nature is the problem agaisnt humanity. They must change it or overcome it. Either build spaceships to the moon or ignore our animal reality. Two opponents agianst one another.

The artist is sad becuase he is not primal. The artist is beorgious. The artist wants to create thing that he sees from his mind. There is no limits in art, that is his goal. Limits stop the artist from creation. The artist sees aethetics and emotion everywhere. The artist has no duty but his own creations. The artist, in the past few hundred years, has isolated himself from the cause for western civilization and introverted himself to make art how he sees things. The collective nature of himself has been nutered. Only atomized individuals exist. The artist is now alone competing with other selfish artist. He is at odds in the competetive world. No one cares for his art, and no cares for the others. To overcome this sadness, he must blieve he is the center of all art. He want's to belive he is a queer celebrity no else understands. This is the cliche of histroy by the way, that, celebrties come from doing things that no one else was doing at the time. "He was the only balck gay guy writing science fiction." This is still with us how we look upon innovation in art history. Young art school students think they same way now. In the primal world, they are being exploiting by art school and spenidng their money on a youthful Diseny'esque vacation called "the college experince." This creates egotism and selfishness. No experince is learned. The world is cold and isolated. Everyone is competing. We are no differnt from animals. We are hungry and we are constantly horny. We need wifes and husbands to show power, not an idyllic shakespere concept of "love." This is the facade of the America system.

However, mot anti-western forces of the world see the primal world as truth. Russia, China, Japan, India, Africa... everyone is an animal! This truth! Race is true! Sex is worth it! An artist is for the art of the people it is serving! Competion is none. People are lviing happy, homogenous lifes without the need of capitlaist competiion. Ethnonationalism is the paradign of the world! Yet, the western globalist powers know this. It is a battle between whites controlling the world and whites yearning for nostalgic racial nationalism. Nationalism for everyone! It was only 100 years we were social darwinaist. This was a grounded truth about the world. Now, we are fooling with ourselfs, allowing maximum freedon to white people and exploitation of other nonwhites. Ware playing a game with ourselfs. Eric Erickson claim of a "pyschosocilaist" world is correct! We are livng soma-state narrative alway from the pain of the primal world. We are afriad to fight with other people, call names, and act like animals. We are forced to act like idyllic beogois men. Idiot greek philosphers that our a figment of our imagination! But the primal world reappears over and over again throughout our liberal, facade coverup. Shame and guilt appears over and over again. A so-called "intellectual" attack agaisnt those who are not "enlighten" like they are! A diease of the mind! The primal world is showing up again after all the rethroic about world peace, and love, and egalatarinism.

Why can't we embrace our inner animal again? Why can't I say I am proud to be white? I know my limits, I know my people, I know my own thinking about personality.

No one else thinks like me.

The artist in America is doomed becasue he must act beogious in a world that is primal. This is an inauthentic existence. No consumers means no audeince. One must always be exploited, gathered by the wolf for it's prey upon sheep. America must have a constenting class of sheeple. The successful artist knows the world is primal. He is an elitist or a bee-hive worker. Creating capital that means nothing to the world. Capital to be consumed and long forgotten in the years to come. Art for the sake of a beogious way of life, to be sacrtificed for a primal way of exuistence. We are always dependent on the man who is primal to live a life that is beogrious.

My art can only exitence for myself and myself only. Lanague is a mistake. I am an animal after all, confused by my mind that gets into the way of my would be animal existence. The artist wishes to create visions not sawed by other people. The artist is dangerous because he sees the primal world in the beogrois one! Talks beogious, acts primal. No limits should go against this.

Beth Tezuka I cum on her chest


Wow! I recieved my first anthology of journal/diary notes of Summer 2016! Awesome! I am really excited (playing Depeche Mode's In Your Room radio mix while I type).

I have to prepare to compile "Swan Songs" in December 2016. This will be my second piece written for it. The first, written a few days ago. This time I will compile with the Dropbox to txt approach. I will NOT add PDFs to the file folder. I will add the TXT files instead. I am also thinking about writing on the side "Shades of Ami" about being 22 on that single semester on CENSORED campus, something about a serial killer killing everyone and having sex with strangers, and maybe even something about my YTMND career. Too much to focus on. Not sure if I such make an extra folder for TXT files to enter File B. I will be already busy, starting in three weeks, to attend a final semester at CENSORED. I don't feel like writing a memoir about that situation. I am already writing what comes by anyway. My focus will be on the college papers. I think I will compile them into Swan songs too. And maybe bits and parts of the serial killer/ami novel too. I am almost done. I wrote poorly bakc then. Still trying to learn to comprehend setneces and touch typing while I do this. If only I had the means and access to constantly write my thoughts on canvas sooner... Now I do. I can finally shake my fist at the world to show them all!

Now, my next acitivty, will be finishing typing my "micro magic" project. I have made multiple versions of Magic Old School LCG. I think I am coming to a conculsion. Non-profit, card sharing from "Make Playing Cards" dot com. 200 cards on the size of mini brown and white cards with JUST THE TEXT. amazing. I think I got it.

Also, learning more about Baidou and Althusser. Althusser lived a sad life. His insanity must be learned about. As for Baidou, he is half-right. Communism will nto rule the world, but Nationalism!

Ok... on to my next project. I feel like fucking Nate or some imaginanry anime girlfriend right now. Somewhat horny, but not to lazy to do it. I just lifted weights anyway. Now on to it...!