"The personal is political"

[BigBlueHead]

Disney is a personal arch-enemy of mine, if our relationship could really be described that way.

(After all, they don't really know I exist, and my "attacks" on them usually only amount to my stinging rhetoric and watching their movies for free on the department store cinema. Standing room only, but you can't beat the price.)

It's actually getting difficult to get baby stuff (crib gear, baby clothes, mobiles) that doesn't have Winnie the guldarned Pooh on it... I looked for a long time, and the only decent mobile I found that wasn't Disney was Noah's Ark instead, the trademark of a different corporation.

Now, if a kid goes through their entire life with Winnie the Pooh glasses on, so that Winnie the Pooh is superimposed on their entire perceptual experience all the time, what kind of person comes out at the end? Do they become a wretchedly shambling consumer zombie? Or do they rise above it and reach a higher state of being? I'm worried, because I used to consider Sesame Street to be an educational counterbalance against stupidity, but it's moved unstoppably over to the stupid side of the balance...

I'm entirely unsure what to do about all this, which is why I keep talking and not doing anything.

EDIT: Marx is more like a graven idol than a philosopher these days... the Marxists like to touch his head for luck every morning, but I don't think they pay too much attention to him anymore. Poor dead Karl (like my History prof said) is probably revolving in his grave listening to me. Anyway, the Dialectical Materialist theory of social development, in short, is where the Thesis (accepted idea) and the Antithesis (new, non-accepted idea) wrestle in the mud until they achieve Synthesis (new, combined idea which accounts for both viewpoints).

 

[Xev]

BigBlue:

Disney is a personal arch-enemy of mine, if our relationship could really be described that way.

*Chuckles*
Hail and kill, brave warrior.

It's actually getting difficult to get baby stuff (crib gear, baby clothes, mobiles) that doesn't have Winnie the guldarned Pooh on it... I looked for a long time, and the only decent mobile I found that wasn't Disney was Noah's Ark instead, the trademark of a different corporation.

You have kids?
None of my business.
Anyways yeah, I don't see why they would bother merchendising (why parents would buy) expensive clothes for babies or kids. They're going to puke all over them or stain them - and if they don't, they'll outgrow them.

Now, if a kid goes through their entire life with Winnie the Pooh glasses on, so that Winnie the Pooh is superimposed on their entire perceptual experience all the time, what kind of person comes out at the end? Do they become a wretchedly shambling consumer zombie? Or do they rise above it and reach a higher state of being? I'm worried, because I used to consider Sesame Street to be an educational counterbalance against stupidity, but it's moved unstoppably over to the stupid side of the balance...

Believe it or not, I spent the first eight or so years of my life without a television. I have no memories of t.v from that period besides the times my mother would take me along when she cleaned houses and I could watch 'Sesame Street'. As consequence, I taught myself to read early. Which really explains why I'm so weird, so maybe it's not such a good thing.
Really, the only reason entertainment is so geared towards children is because parents who work find it such an easy diversion for them. Gives industry an even greater stranglehold on their minds. And of course, rising cost of living forces both parents to work in order to fuel the machine.

I'm entirely unsure what to do about all this, which is why I keep talking and not doing anything.

What is there to do?
When I was younger I used to have all manner of bold solutions, which I realized would fail because people are stupid.
You have to have some faith in your species - otherwise, what else is there for you? But people are stupid and apathetic.
Eventually I found Nietzsche, who really helped me free myself from a lot of that sense of purpose but still - my personality is such that I need action and heroism. I've focused on myself, and in the end that's the best you can do - focus on yourself and let the rest go to hell if it so desires.
You can also communicate with others who are able to understand, if you have kids you can do the most important thing for them - raise them so they're not consumer robots and are healthy egotists.
*Shrugs*
But if you hear on the news that someone has vandalized the Time-Warner headquarters, don't point anyone my way.

EDIT: Marx is more like a graven idol than a philosopher these days... the Marxists like to touch his head for luck every morning, but I don't think they pay too much attention to him anymore.

Having him become sort of an icon for academics rather ruined him for me. He seemed to have many good ideas, but I doubt communism is possible nowadays.

 

[BigBlueHead]

It's not Karl's fault... the public loves any academic who looks like a mad prophet, and he had that beard, he was destined for mainstreaming and the subsequent dissipation of his ideas.

Hairstyle seems to be one of the most valuable factors in being an influental academic, which helps to explain Einstein's many avuncular portraits that wallpapered parts of my school.

As for communism... the economic failure of communism was not a demonstration of a failure of concept, but as far as I'm concerned, the lack of the necessary unified vision was a failure of concept. This was demonstrated more by the prevalence of organized crime in the USSR than its economic troubles. In any case, Marx wanted a form of communism that would somehow come about by mutual assent and then regulate itself, which is wishful thinking at its most raw.

 

[Xev]

Good one BlueHead, now all the adverts on top of the screen are for Winnie the Pooh.

I don't think the USSR demonstrated the failure of communism as an economic system, but rather the - problems - involved in its implementation.

 

[gendanken]

Xev:

Gendanken, I know how to conceal myself. What I did made me vile - I smiled a lot and tried to be likable. When I snapped out of that I released my aggression like a fury, like I was trying to prove something to myself. Now that's spent, and I'm wondering if I even care about concealment.

I did not think for a second that you didn't know how. Its the simplest thing in the world to know. Didn't I tell you the easiest answer was ugly? Sneer and hide the pathos writhing inside with a flip of the hair and a dirty joke- easy. Look how ugly you were. The real method is impossible.

I'm about 3 days away from a birthday and I'll be spending that time trembling like a little philosopher. Joy. I look back and see one almost like you- hiding a blossoming identity for fear of being labeled out as eccentric, then lashing out with the full blow of the fire inside. I realize the mistake, I come here and work up a Camelotic ideal of a roundtable where only the noble can sit and prattle. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Then here I am wanting to run or cut off my limbic system. I want to single out that mechanism that simply insists on company, ambush it and put it in a noose. This is the impossibiilty- look at me, I'm sitting here writing this to you, there's a confused boy chewing my ear off and Bigblue has just made me laugh.

I don't have to do any of this, yet Thoreau and Emerson look simply absurd tilling the soil for the ~love~ of it. They're supposed to be farmers escaping the world at one point but look fucking pathetic not knowing wheat from barley. Ooh. Ahh.

I'm here, why? Simple human engineering. And I'm not buying this eyewash of it being only a matter of sieving the herd for those that "deserve" our company, like with like, birds and feathers. Those are nice, but its a standard harangue from platform charlies (as in charlatans.)

Why taunt? Why ridicule? Why make a point to lessers that they are? Why anything else other than strict loyalty to that supposed roundtable?

Lucysnow:

Too true. As Simone De Beauvoirs admits in The Second Sex a woman's allegiance to her man outweighs any solidarity towards other women.

Totally. Aren't they bleeding annoying? Something I learned with my own mother recently- I'm a woman first, daughter second as soon as puberty hits.

Bigblue:

I like how you've been beating commercialism so righteously down to pulp and I look up to see Winnie the Pooh being advertised because you've just mentioned it. I'm trying but I swear to you....can't stop laughing.

 

[Xev]

gendanken:

Its the simplest thing in the world to know. Didn't I tell you the easiest answer was ugly? Sneer and hide the pathos writhing inside with a flip of the hair and a dirty joke- easy. Look how ugly you were. The real method is impossible.

What would be the real method?

I'm about 3 days away from a birthday and I'll be spending that time trembing like a little philosopher. Joy. I look back and see one almost like you- hiding a blossoming identity for fear of being labeled out as eccentric, then lashing out with the full blow of the fire inside. I realize the mistake, I come here and work up a Camelotic ideal of a roundtable where only the noble can sit and prattle. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Would work for five minutes before Guinevere was barraged with requests for "cyber". The only way something like that could happen is if one made a conscious effort to gather the noble into one place. You know in Plato's dialogs where they lounge about discussing whether the thing that is is a representation of an essential thing being revealed as a thing? 'Course Plato had to make his characters out of fiction.
Maybe - one in a hundred - people is astute enough to think like that. How can you organize them?
Which is why the world is so fucked. The one is surrounded by a hundred who dilute and corrupt their thought.

Then here I am wanting to run or cut off my limbic system. I want to single out that mechanism that simply insists on company, ambush it and put it in a noose. This is the impossibiilty- look at me, I'm sitting here writing this to you, there's a confused boy chewing my ear off and Bigblue has just made me laugh.

Human nature.
Not that you can't cut that off - I've done it - but you'll keep feeling it again and again every time someone sticks their head up and looks like a real human. Just a matter of degree.

I don't have to do any of this, yet Thoreau and Emerson look simply absurd tilling the soil for the ~love~ of it. They're supposed to be farmers escaping the world at one point but look fucking pathetic not knowing wheat from barley. Ooh. Ahh.

You know Thoreau had his mom visiting weekly with food that she'd cooked? He didn't do shit, just talked about self-reliance.

I'm here, why? Simple human engineering. And I'm not buying this eyewash of it being only a matter of sieving the herd for those that "deserve" our company, like with like, birds and feathers. Those are nice, but its a standard harangue from platform charlies (as in charlatans.)

I'm talking about finding the one in a hundred for the times you need to fuck, talk or share. And don't tell me you don't feel that need or desire.

Why taunt? Why ridicule? Why make a point to lessers that they are? Why anything else other than strict loyalty to that supposed roundtable?

Because I'm a sadist.
Albeit an incredibly incompetent one.

 

[guthrie]

Welcome to humanity. Confusing, isnt it?
I lack the ability to verbalise the way you lot do, (although i write some SF stories i think are good) but its interesting watching you all go through similar things to myself.
Then ill mention that im icq ing my girlfriend who is also one of my best friends. Lucky me eh?

 

[BigBlueHead]

Good one BlueHead, now all the adverts on top of the screen are for Winnie the Pooh.

I like how you've been beating commercialism so righteously down to pulp and I look up to see Winnie the Pooh being advertised because you've just mentioned it.

Dammit! Now you see why they're my arch enemy... I could dress up in a Mickey Mouse suit and run around killing people with an axe, and it would still be advertising. That's why I don't make any pretense to changing the media - that battle is already lost.

So what do you do when every other person in the world is a Disney zombie? Go to Star Trek conventions? Start a tuba club?

Generally any thing you have "in common" with another person does not encompass enough of their experience to mean that you'll identify with them in any other way.

For instance, a lot of people like Dune, by Frank Herbert. But then, they also like "Frank Herbert's Dune", the TV miniseries, on the basis that it is THE SAME as the book, even though Dune is about political intrigue and prescience, and the TV miniseries is about hats, stick-beating, and some kind of Harkonnen three stooges act.

I find them to be different, others find them to be the same. This, for me, is like saying "I find them to be orange, while others find them to be green." Of course, I don't define my experience in terms of Dune, or Winnie the Pooh for that matter, but when it turns out that another person is not seeing the same world I'm seeing, I usually abandon the finer points of philosophy in our conversation, and work on simpler things, like whether that cloud looks like a piggy or not.

(Is cloud shape recognition a good indicator of similar world-view? Probably not.)

To date, all that I've found is that you can find a slightly better class of people at post-secondary educational institutions... it's no guarantee of quality, but the real hamsters of the world usually can't handle higher education and run off to work at Wendy's. Then you don't have to sift quite as much. Of course, I hear that if you spend too much time at universities you end up radioactive, or get caught in a supernova.

 

[BigBlueHead]

Because I'm a sadist.
Albeit an incredibly incompetent one.

Incompetent... sadist.

"What, you liked that? Ew, now I feel dirty."

 

[WANDERER]

Ah, how to connect and still maintain individuality, how much to give up to placate natures need but still keep enough to remain dignified and self-reliant?
A balancing act.
The dilemma for the heightened human condition: Wanting to participate and belong to something other than self but requiring it to be noble enough and worthy enough of our commitment and loyalty; wanting to share and become dependant so that the burden of existence is shared but requiring it to be loyal, understanding, forgiving and special so that by the sheer relation we become so as well and we open up to the multitude of possibilities with little fear and anxiety.
The alternative?
Total isolation and a life lived in solitary confinement with only imaginary realities to keep the intellect occupied.
But what of the body; that demanding hungry beast of need?
Can we decapitate ourselves and survive, would we want to if we could, would we experience the totality of it then?
So many dimensions and so little time and energy. The risk of being spread out too thin an overarching threat because it results in fragility.
But to keep thickness means to be inflexible and impenetrable.
In the end the risk must be taken or life becomes a predictable cage of stagnation.

 

[BigBlueHead]

Ehhhh... maybe, Wanderer, but that's not what I was saying. I was saying:

Communication of complex concepts with others is almost impossible. That's what the "Shape of Language" thread was about; there are walls between people, even those who think of themselves as friends of one another, and picking all the way through them seems to take years even if the effort is constant.

Membership for its own sake is sold by the media because it supports marketing, especially when distrust is fostered between all individuals; although it may cause social problems in the long run, those who sell products to you are most successful when they are the only source of information that you have.

My point isn't really about the interplay of the need for solitude and the need for membership... it's more about who promotes and controls your interactions with other people, and why.

 

[gendanken]

Guthrie:

Then ill mention that im icq ing my girlfriend who is also one of my best friends. Lucky me eh?

Yes, I envy those subproletarian genes in your little body that has you labeling nobodies so freely- "boyfriends, girlfriends and baby's daddies". I can picture you all munching on government cheese.

Never fuck with gendanken on her birthday.


Xev:

I'm talking about finding the one in a hundred for the times you need to fuck, talk or share. And don't tell me you don't feel that need or desire.

I won't dare it.

Some gendanken for you:

" Oh fiery loins that would a mind turn its tap and shower you out with reason"

-yours truly.

What would be the real method?

Squashing the amygdala or picking it out with a chainsaw.

Kidding.

I'm in a foul mood (birthday...meh), but let's see here: that place you've said you've hit before from where you bounced back again - you just gave me another reason to be fouler and ill-mannered today. That, to me, was the real answer: walk away as you would a house on fire, but use it for its warmth without the neigborhood knowing. Yet I hear you've tried it, and if you buckled than I'm sitting here singing a fruity song straight from my anus. Red herring.

But hell- the neighborhood simply insists on knowing how your day was, what you were up to, what you've been reading, why the moodswings and have you seen Janet's boob?Floop floop floop- every encounter sucking the life out of you and leaving you less than the person you were that morning. Its not hiding-which folks are quick to tell you its this that you're doing.
Nor fleeing
Nor denial at best which are those bandaid terms you slap on so casually.

Its protecting some thing inside you've never seen which bloody enrages you, I swear to you, makes my blood boil to see that that these gossipmongering shits insist on taking from you before you even get to know what it looks like.

I'm getting it tattoed on my forehead, lass: WARNING: MIND.YOUR FUCKING. BUSINESS. GET AWAY FROM ME. STOP TALKING TO ME, I'M RADIOACTIVE. SHOO.

Maybe - one in a hundred - people is astute enough to think like that. How can you organize them?
Which is why the world is so fucked. The one is surrounded by a hundred who dilute and corrupt their thought.

We could always entice them with copies of the "Gay Science" and then shoot all the ones that showed up to meet homosexuals. All the rest should be friendly.



Wanderer.

The dilemma for the heightened human condition: Wanting to participate and belong to something other than self but requiring it to be noble enough and worthy enough of our commitment and loyalty; wanting to share and become dependant so that the burden of existence is shared but requiring it to be loyal, understanding, forgiving and special so that by the sheer relation we become so as well and we open up to the multitude of possibilities with little fear and anxiety.

...................
So many dimensions and so little time and energy. The risk of being spread out too thin an overarching threat because it results in fragility.
But to keep thickness means to be inflexible and impenetrable.
In the end the risk must be taken or life becomes a predictable cage of stagnation.

Mierda.

Think about what some soul in here said would you? All social ties are shackles, no matter with whom and how.

You can share, understand, forgive, appreciate and lay out on furry white carpets reading copies of Tolstoy or one of those essays you've hashed up, but whoever you've chosen to dote on has become your cause, not your partner.. Partner is only the manicured way of labeling what one really does- look for one almost like you and its all fun and games until you're both exactly alike and you bore.

Put a superman in a room with one he thinks he can teach something to and watch the passions burn til they're both so entranced with the thickness of being in each either you'd swear it was puppylove.
But put him in a room with one just like him and the prospect of actually being taught something both ways will have him on the edge of his seat dying to get out of there.

There goes your predictable cage of stagnation, Oh my brother.

 

[WANDERER]

Think about what some soul in here said would you? All social ties are shackles, no matter with whom and how.

Shackles or life-preservers, depending on how you choose to interpret them.
Being socially dependant is ingrained in your genes, deny that and you deny part of yourself.
But it is true all relationships demand a sacrifice of self.
The one possessing superfluous self has no problem giving of it, the one that has little of it is diminished with every part lost.

You can share, understand, forgive, appreciate and lay out on furry white carpets reading copies of Tolstoy or one of those essays you've hashed up, but whoever you've chosen to dote on has become your cause, not your partner.. Partner is only the manicured way of labeling what one really does- look for one almost like you and its all fun and games until you're both exactly alike and you bore.

Yes and look for nothing and that's what you will find.
So you’ve given up then. Unfortunate.
But how long can you blame the world for your own imperfections?
And if you bore then you look elsewhere or you look deeper.
Being with yourself can lead to boredom as well.
Being with another that is just like you is a good alternative to being alone because then the boredom is shared.

Put a superman in a room with one he thinks he can teach something to and watch the passions burn til they're both so entranced with the thickness of being in each either you'd swear it was puppylove.
But put him in a room with one just like him and the prospect of actually being taught something both ways will have him on the edge of his seat dying to get out of there.

That's why there are only 'supermen' and no 'superwomen'.

 

[Hastein]

Think about what some soul in here said would you? All social ties are shackles, no matter with whom and how.

Excessive individualism produces some rather disturbing ideals these days. Early man lived and died by the outcome of his collective, where the romantic modern man beleives he can live free of everything. Entertaining.

 

[gendanken]

Wanderer:

Shackles or life-preservers, depending on how you choose to interpret them.
Being socially dependant is ingrained in your genes, deny that and you deny part of yourself.

And that will be the last thing you'll find me in, compadre: denial.

Whisper in my ear that I have 3 months to live and then in the other remind me there are naughty pics of me floating around somewhere in danger of being discovered. My impulse: track the shit down and burn it.

What does it matter if gendanken won't be around anymore? But look at the fancy monkey I am, you are, they are running around like a lunatic trying to preserve a reputation even after death. I never said it was only an abstract yarn.

But how long can you blame the world for your own imperfections?
And if you bore then you look elsewhere or you look deeper.
Being with yourself can lead to boredom as well.
Being with another that is just like you is a good alternative to being alone because then the boredom is shared.

Never assume I haven't blamed myself first. Eaten myself alive first.

And its the same with you as it is with me, ami de cour: Indifference is your gallows.

Not boredom.

The one possessing superfluous self has no problem giving of it, the one that has little of it is diminished with every part lost.

And you have all the charm of a toreador in pink tights who's basing all his extravagence on his coquettries with a bull he calls Bob.


Lastly:

That's why there are only 'supermen' and no 'superwomen'.

No.Fucking.Shit.

Put the pastiest little shit in a uniform and watch him grab Germany. Mount a balding pygmy on horse and France rolls over and gives herself to him. But
put her in that same uniform belching the same fucking programme and she's a sexy coquette with brains. Happy muse. Fun and tits.

What makes you think I don't know this?

**EDIT

cour, not cort

 

[Xev]

gendanken:
Happy fucking birthday.
I spent the my twentieth wanting to slit my wrists and die (after a glorious gun battle with the cops after I'd demolished lots of things).

I'm in a foul mood (birthday...meh), but let's see here: that place you've said you've hit before from where you bounced back again - you just gave me another reason to be fouler and ill-mannered today. That, to me, was the real answer: walk away as you would a house on fire, but use it for its warmth without the neigborhood knowing. Yet I hear you've tried it, and if you buckled than I'm sitting here singing a fruity song straight from my anus. Red herring.

Yeah but you'll still end up bouncing off people, too.
I didn't buckle - lesse, last time I hit it I was about to turn nineteen, I holed up for a couple of days and stopped that need. And then I began realizing that others had their benefits.
You don't stop being human. You maybe can break their domination by learning not to care about them, but there's still that fuzzy feeling when you sit around with friends who maybe aren't of your calibur, but hell they're good for being around.

But hell- the neighborhood simply insists on knowing how your day was, what you were up to, what you've been reading, why the moodswings and have you seen Janet's boob?Floop floop floop- every encounter sucking the life out of you and leaving you less than the person you were that morning. Its not hiding-which folks are quick to tell you its this that you're doing.
Nor fleeing
Nor denial at best which are those bandaid terms you slap on so casually.

Isolate.
Isolate, isolate isolate.
I get the feeling we'd agree if I said this right -
I admit there's the coziness of being with the others. There's the time it gets on your fucking nerves. The best solution I've found is to find a few friends who know when to leave you the fuck alone.
Anyways for me it's the people I'm not intimate with, but strangers and coworkers who drive me up the wall.

Its protecting some thing inside you've never seen which bloody enrages you, I swear to you, makes my blood boil to see that that these gossipmongering shits insist on taking from you before you even get to know what it looks like.

Kill them.
Only way - get the hell away as fast as you can and damn the consequences.
Social suicide indeed.

No.Fucking.Shit.

It is fucking shit.

Put the pastiest little shit in a uniform and watch him grab Germany. Mount a balding pygmy on horse and France rolls over and gives herself to him. But
put her in that same uniform belching the same fucking programme and she's a sexy coquette with brains. Happy muse. Fun and tits.

Who made her the coquette, gendanken?
Her or them?
I can smash moron's heads in until I get carpel tunnel and Odin says I'm overdoing it, but to them I'll never be anything but a bad girl or a dominatrix.
Whose fault is that, mine or theirs?
They trivialize your power because you're female - I know it too - the fault is in not seeing that for what it is, more attempts to bring you down so they don't feel like so much less around you.

That's all it is, another little revenge.

Humans are scum, the only refuge is misanthropy.

Wanderer:

That's why there are only 'supermen' and no 'superwomen'.

You managed to not only get it backwords but to fail to see how it applies to you.

 

[gendanken]

gendanken:
Happy fucking birthday.

Ha!

Keep reminding me and I'll be ripping your hair from the roots.

I spent the my twentieth wanting to slit my wrists and die (after a glorious gun battle with the cops after I'd demolished lots of things).

And I spent it with this fat black woman complaining to me that it just might be gendanken's fault that the place got robbed and not my morbidly obese trailer park boss who can't even take care of his body let alone a fucking business.

Burn those proles.

Yeah but you'll still end up bouncing off people, too.
I didn't buckle - lesse, last time I hit it I was about to turn nineteen, I holed up for a couple of days and stopped that need. And then I began realizing that others had their benefits.
You don't stop being human. You maybe can break their domination by learning not to care about them, but there's still that fuzzy feeling when you sit around with friends who maybe aren't of your calibur, but hell they're good for being around.

Oh, I love and live more passionately than anyone I know. No damn way I'll ever end being human in that sense and what's murderous funny is how they think they're more human than I am.

And as for these friends to 'cozy' up to...don't have any of those yet. Its still down to those you're only seen with Friday nights but I promise you...I'll be kindapping some real ones soon. .

Isolate.
Isolate, isolate isolate.

Hear, hear, and amen...

I get the feeling we'd agree if I said this right -
I admit there's the coziness of being with the others. There's the time it gets on your fucking nerves. The best solution I've found is to find a few friends who know when to leave you the fuck alone.
Anyways for me it's the people I'm not intimate with, but strangers and coworkers who drive me up the wall.

And the cattle around watercoolers....

Who made her the coquette, gendanken?
Her or them?
I can smash moron's heads in until I get carpel tunnel and Odin says I'm overdoing it, but to them I'll never be anything but a bad girl or a dominatrix.
Whose fault is that, mine or theirs?
They trivialize your power because you're female - I know it too - the fault is in not seeing that for what it is, more attempts to bring you down so they don't feel like so much less around you.

That's all it is, another little revenge.

Humans are scum, the only refuge is misanthropy.

Trickle by trickle I'm beginning to thaw but............shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...back to glorious misanthropy.
Kidding.

Of course. Genitals are a misdemeanor- fucking stupid but you get what I'm saying. What better way to feel like the rug on my floor than to see you'll probably get your little games called out on you by that one person, that one teeny tiny person with the lipstick on that's so easy and usual to understimate?

Knowing its a them thing not a me thing is the only thing keeping me sane. Sometimes.

Aaaaaaand...

You managed to not only get it backwords but to fail to see how it applies to you.

To-u-che.

 

[gendanken]

Hastein:

Excessive individualism produces some rather disturbing ideals these days. Early man lived and died by the outcome of his collective, where the romantic modern man beleives he can live free of everything. Entertaining.

Do you a favor and shoo.

Look, it rhymes.....mind the lines where danken shines, fair swine.

 

[Xev]

gendanken:

Keep reminding me and I'll be ripping your hair from the roots.

I won't send flowers then.

And I spent it with this fat black woman complaining to me that it just might be gendanken's fault that the place got robbed and not my morbidly obese trailer park boss who can't even take care of his body let alone a fucking business.

Ouch. That - sucks.

Burn those proles.

I do market research, I do surveys for certain public health programs - illiterate fucks with three, four kids screaming in the background as welfare mommy tries to answer the questions in her butchered English.

Kill. Them. All.

Oh, I love and live more passionately than anyone I know. No damn way I'll ever end being human in that sense and what's murderous funny is how they think they're more human than I am.

Snap.
That's the hilarious bit.
Mock sentiment for them and they think they're dealing with Lucrezia Borgia. The ones that don't feel howl the most that you're unfeeling.

You turn and you hiss at them, and the funniest fucking thing is when they take that seriously.

Other hand...
I have the misfortune of having a 'sweet' face and a soft voice, so of course they think they can take advantage of that supposed niceness. The funniest fucking thing is to be mean as hell and watch them react.

And as for these friends to 'cozy' up to...don't have any of those yet. Its still down to those you're only seen with Friday nights but I promise you...I'll be kindapping some real ones soon. .

I've only accumulated a few. Make sure you feed them and keep them happy or they aren't as snuggly - they just try to climb their way to freedom.

And the cattle around watercoolers....

Who think they know what the 'meaning' of the piece is...

Trickle by trickle I'm beginning to thaw but............shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...back to glorious misanthropy.
Kidding.

I hate the - thawing - bit. It's a hell of a lot easier to hate them all.

Of course. Genitals are a misdemeanor- fucking stupid but you get what I'm saying. What better way to feel like the rug on my floor than to see you'll probably get your little games called out on you by that one person, that one teeny tiny person with the lipstick on that's so easy and usual to understimate?

So use it when they underestimate you

Ah shit, you know - who gives a fuck about using it anyway?
You want to get good at manipulating their little heads, because then you'll be free and you can snap them occasionally, but there's the point where it's not worth it.

As for the weaker sex - hey, whatever you may lose is more than made up for the wonderful pleasure in mocking the lot of 'em.

Knowing its a them thing not a me thing is the only thing keeping me sane. Sometimes.

Sane?
What's that?

 

[WANDERER]

gendanken

Never assume I haven't blamed myself first. Eaten myself alive first.

And its the same with you as it is with me, ami de cort: Indifference is your gallows.

Not boredom.

It’s the indifference that winds up as boredom.
I now feign interest just to keep my mind occupied.
Like watching a Hockey game with those I call my friends.
I could care less who the fuck wins or what so-and-so’s name is but watching them skate around after a little black disc and mostly watching my friends take it so seriously is amusing, so I pretend.
Like watching ants.

And you have all the charm of a toreador in pink tights who's basing all his extravagence on his coquettries with a bull he calls Bob.

'Bob' is my way of rubbing their faces in the shit which they call self; it’s my tool of mockery, it's my mirror...my red cape swirving in the wind. They think they're attacking me when all they hit is air or themselves.
This brand of animal, call it bull, only understands the personal, everything else passes over its tiny horned head, so I keep it as personal as possible. I keep the cape waving to amuse myself.

I prefer blue tights, just to keep my macho persona intact.

Put the pastiest little shit in a uniform and watch him grab Germany. Mount a balding pygmy on horse and France rolls over and gives herself to him. But
put her in that same uniform belching the same fucking programme and she's a sexy coquette with brains. Happy muse. Fun and tits.

What makes you think I don't know this?

Nothing I just love reminding you of it.

And as for these friends to 'cozy' up to...don't have any of those yet. Its still down to those you're only seen with Friday nights but I promise you...I'll be kindapping some real ones soon.

In order to have friends like that you need to be able to swallow your ego for a while and then when it rises up in your throat threatening to choke you, you must be able to run fast into isolation so that you don’t turn those same friends into bitter enemies.

Of course. Genitals are a misdemeanor- fucking stupid but you get what I'm saying. What better way to feel like the rug on my floor than to see you'll probably get your little games called out on you by that one person, that one teeny tiny person with the lipstick on that's so easy and usual to understimate?

I never underestimate beauty or brains, especially when they appear in unison.

To-u-che.

That's supposed to be my line.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY.
What is it now your 300th?

Hastein

Excessive individualism produces some rather disturbing ideals these days. Early man lived and died by the outcome of his collective, where the romantic modern man beleives he can live free of everything. Entertaining.

But where is the balance between excessive individuality and excessive blandness?
I guess the sea of morons is needed to keep the distinct islands isolated from each other.

Xev

Who made her the coquette, gendanken?
Her or them?
I can smash moron's heads in until I get carpel tunnel and Odin says I'm overdoing it, but to them I'll never be anything but a bad girl or a dominatrix.
Whose fault is that, mine or theirs?

Natures?!
Hey I don't make the rules I just describe them and fight them.

You managed to not only get it backwords but to fail to see how it applies to you.

I think my penis got in the way.