Sunday, July 31, 2016

Puppetmaster: Blaming Tools v. Blaming Actors

For Yaldabaoth's sake, people, stop blaming Muslims for things. That's scarcely more intelligent than blaming guns for things. The Muslims are mere heads of the hydra; they were only ever dangerous because they were used as shock troopers by a force far more powerful. Guns don't kill people; people kill people. Everyone knows that saying, right? By the same token, Muslims don't kill people; bankers kill people.

Without bankers, Muslims never advance beyond the bow and arrow. They never obtain cannon, handheld firearms, or heavy cavalry. Heck, without bankers, there are no Muslims, because the Torah primed the pump for the Koran, being itself more noxious, racist, and genocidal.

In the absence of bankers engaging in international financial transfers, arms trading, and stealing military secrets to pit state against state in endlessly recycled cold/hot wars, Muslims are never motivated to follow the bankers into Europe in the first place. They stay right in the Middle East, looting Egyptian burial sites and selling Nubians to one another. Arabs aren't even Muslims without the bankers to do that, but for convenience's sake, fine, call them "Muslims." Either way, they're not a problem. Bankers alone = problem. Arabs alone = no problem. Bankers + Arabs = Problem. See the variable at play there? Applies to every other group that could be paired with, or considered apart from, bankers.

Without bankers, Vienna doesn't spend 1200 years under siege. The few Bedouin raiders who do contemplate coordinated attacks to the north are small in number, ill-supplied, and, without Chosen viziers, break apart from internal feuding before they even have a chance to swing bronze sabers at thirty-foot-high stone curtain walls.

Without bankers, there is no Theodore Roosevelt, no Bull Moose, no Fed, and no FDR. America doesn't invade Mexico, Cuba, or the Philippines, and Harry Hopkins doesn't get into the Lincoln bedroom. There is no Lend-Lease, no allied intervention in Italy causing Mussolini to beg for reinforcements and slow down the eastern advance, and Hitler takes Moscow before winter, but that doesn't even matter anyway, because without bankers there is no Weimar, no Great War, no series of anti-natalist assassinations, and, crucially, no inbred traitorous Ancien Regime against which to partially justify anti-natalist assassinations anyway.

Without bankers, Japan destroys the Chosen Cheka before they can murder 60 million Russians. Without bankers, another 60 million Chinese are alive, and Mao is an unknown little weenie who, at age thirty-three, is sentenced to the death of the ten thousand needles when his village elders catch him molesting another eight-year-old. Stalin is a friendly enough old crank who loses his job as a house painter and seduces unattractive widows before perishing to dysentery in his forties, and no one ever builds a single gulag.

Without bankers, the noxious Afro-Semitic habit of chattel slavery never makes it to the New World. The semi-free serf populations of the slavs restore themselves closer to freedom with each year that passes since the Golden Horde. Free of constant harassment by the subjugated Turks, Russia joins the Han and Japanese in crushing the Mongoloid raiders that had only ever survived by keeping various empires distracted with one other. Celts and Germans, Angles and Nords spend half a millennia not retreating to castles to avoid Muslim pirates; not answering to the dictates of a council of globalist boy-rapers; not globally integrating their trade via colonization and slavery schemes foisted upon them by royal financiers; not suffering vicarious insults as variegated cult regulations and incestuous-yet-foreign rulers are transplanted upon their altars and thrones, but, by developing internal combustion engines and basic spaceflight.

The populations of southern Africa are no more or less dangerous than lions or wildebeest; the Arabs are never armed, uplifted, or otherwise interfered with, and the rest of the globe feels no need to colonize either of them with a dead Jew on a stick, a million surplus AK-47s, or various pro- and/or anti-positions on anal intercourse and/or shamanism.

There is only one great virus on this planet.

Only one. We are encouraged to treat symptoms, but there is only one foundation, one problem, one enemy. Blaming dindus, cucks, catladies, kebabs, muds, sugar consumption, complex carbs, proximity, science, faith, pedagogy, self-esteem, your inner resolve, our inner resolve, history itself: failures; symptoms; distractions. There is only one enemy. You cannot take the easy way out by blaming only your own weakness, your own susceptibility, because that's like blaming your skin for burning when exposed to fire.

Monday, July 25, 2016

The Malfoy Switch: the Potter Period in Occidental History, Part 3

Part 1 referenced "the Mephistophelesian, trans-hostian nature" of the Harry Potter series. We've already discussed in Part 2 how Potter was initially a patriarchal Anglo-Saxon narrative; let's look into that some more, then study how it transitioned into a clumsy attempt at what Terrans so wrongly and embarrassingly call "universalism."

Harry's contrasting relationships with the Malfoys and the Weasleys are quite telling in this regard. For those lucky enough to be unfamiliar with the narrative, the Malfoys are the model bad family, and the Weasleys are the model good one. Harry is friends with Ron Weasley: an ugly, clumsy, unrefined, poor, uneducated, red-haired symbol of subjugated Britain's Celtic peoples, as subjugated by the Anglo-Saxon pawns of the Judeo-Christian masterminds of the assault on northwestern Europe. Ron Weasley has a large, messy family, and they serve as comic relief throughout the narrative, allowing Anglos to laugh at how stupid and backwards and messy, yet how warm-hearted and quaint, the Celtic survivors are. Appropriately for the patriarchy, Ron's pretty younger sister sights Harry and immediately wants to be taken away for mating and reproduction; she ends up bearing his offspring by the end of the tale.

The Malfoys are the Weasleys' polar opposite: clean, good-looking, refined, wealthy, educated, blond symbols of Anglo-Saxon lordship. Rowling played upon English cultural memories of the Norman invasion by initially likening the Malfoys to Norman occupiers, employing a mix of francophone and Latinate nomenclature to play upon lingering Gaelic perceptions of the eleventh-century occupation. The wealthy administrators of this occupation were the spiritual successors to Charlemagne: anti-pagan colonists from different parts of Europe, working with Semitic financiers to break apart indigenous communities and unite them under proto-universalist Carolingian mores. The long-running joke of sneering French occupiers, as exemplified in Peter Sellers' stellar portrayals, still lingers, paying testament to the many ways in which France has so deeply and thoroughly served as the infected puncture wound of Europe, sheltering the revolutions and Napoleons that intellectually define the people's ongoing destruction.

It was the Germanic tribes of Europe who offered the fiercest resistance to the neo-Roman Semitic financiers of northward invasion, even hurling back the invasion in several instances, for which they were historically cursed as the barbarians who had ended latter African-Rome's desiccated "civilization." The western Germanics--the Franks--were bought and rapespawned into servants of Charlemagne and the Merovingian courts, producing nasal tools for further Semitic ideological expansion. Thence came the next wave of murdering the Celts: latter-day Rome, tool of the Semitic financiers, had frequently tried to crush those peoples, but a solid foundation in France gave them the "Normans" who would secure a kingship, and thereby, a royal occupation that would persist to the present day. The invasions of Russia; the housing of the intelligentsia that would be employed against Africa and Russia and America; the conduit from Canaan to Rome to the English channel; the oh-so-profitable twentieth-century antagonism against Germany, once Britain had been conquered; the absurdly brutal and wasteful Mediterranean colonization of Algiers: all of this sprang from that foothold in France, when the brutalized rapespawn of the Germanic tribes became a more controllable offshoot of their former selves.

Rowling, in Potter, did not mean to illuminate any of this history, but as a dutiful innocent, she was consciously aware of the good-natured ribbing that the English make of French accents, and she was subconsciously aware of the darker undertones of the Celts--and Britons--who instinctively remember the evil implied by those sneering Latinate bastards who serve faraway masters of shadow. This is why the supposedly longstanding English wizarding family is headed by a "Lucius Malfoy" rather than a "John Bullbridge." Early in the story, Malfoys present as Norman invaders, deriding the Weasleys for their poverty; the protagonist Harry and (his female friend) Hermione form a tribal coalition of Brits to resist Malfoy. As the narrative progresses, though, and as Rowling is guided into influence beyond the scope of her initial processing capabilities, the Malfoys become increasingly anglicized, and the struggle against Draco (the Malfoy line's scion, and the protagonist's at-school nemesis) becomes not one of solidarity against an invader, but of domestic politics against a token Tory. Draco becomes less of a Norman occupier who doesn't belong, and more of a conservative bastard who belongs too much, while Harry transforms from a tentative immigrant into a universalist native. In short, the series portrays Rowling's transition from a simplistic, patriotic Englishwoman, into a simplistic cosmopolitanite.

Not only through the Malfoys does this pattern occur. We've previously discussed some of the other ways in which Rowling stretched her newly cosmopolitan mores: the retroactive homosexuality of Dumbledore and Harry's ad-hoc (and effortlessly doomed) Chinese romance. The whole of the narrative, though, is replete with replacement orthodoxies of this sort, in sync with the audience's, and Rowling's, developing reception toward these ideas. Hogwarts (the magic school which Harry attends) begins as an isolationist, secretive, superior world, holding itself aloof from the non-magical subhumans (called "Muggles"), regarding whom the privileged wizarding class is not only scornful, but cautiously afraid, paternalistically derisive, Othering, et cetera. Muggles are presented as being, essentially, working class consumers as viewed through the lens of a Downing Street boardroom: interchangeable, short-sighted, dangerous, greedy, and in desperate need of elite management. This is an appropriate and predictable point of view for someone like first-book Rowling, who views herself as a savvy author, inspired by creativity and therefore different than the mindless telly-zombies like everyone else. It suits her to writing a book for small children or undeveloped adults, who possess a dim understanding of the larger world, and, solipsistically, don't quite understand what everyone else is doing or feeling "out there."

Once Rowling becomes a successful figure of influence, then a "major motion picture" figure of influence, her attitudes change--perfectly lining up with the developing attitudes of prepubescent readers growing up, or childlike adult readers becoming more interested in the Labour Party's platform specifics, respectively. Midway through the narrative, Rowling begins to sprinkle hints that Muggles are not bad per se, merely lacking in the inborn intelligence of wizards; as pages continue on, it is suddenly revealed that Muggle politicians are working with magical politicians to coordinate their shared response to world events. The whole character of the "secret world," which Rowling so painstakingfully laid out early on, is changed into a multifaceted cooperation of nearly-equals. What begin with a simpleton's yearning for a protected community--penalties for magic in public, "the first rule of wand club is you don't talk about wand club," and so forth--is transmuted into a secret multifaceted bureaucracy that knows better than all its citizens, and keeps them ignorant of the threats and challenges and benefits faced by any given sub-division.

In short, Rowling got really into the E.U. The E.U. has positives and negatives, as well as good potentials and bad potentials, yet the version of the E.U. to which Rowling, and her readers, came to subscribe to--the overarching purpose of Potter, and why it was chosen for development--is one in which human is subjugated to bureaucrat, and identity not merely destroyed, but subsumed: so wholly that the new identity, the one popular at this moment, is not only popular now, but always was popular. Rowling is what Orwell warned of, namely, a bureaucratic statement that is both currently and retroactively true. Ergo it is appropriate that Dumbledore not only is gay now, but that he always was gay, or that Hermione is not only African now, but always was African, even though of course none of this is "true." Rowling has gone on Twitter to retroactively adjust anything fans ask her, confirming that yes, Hogwarts did in fact have students who identified as different genders, or were disabled, or who were pansexual, or Inuit, or Jewish, or Muslim, or whatever else is popular at the moment, and this has been cheered as a masterwork. If Rowling were da Vinci, the Mona Lisa could be a female feminist one year, an MTF transsexual the next, and in the third year, a scene depicting the hopelessness of pastoral motherhood via a conservative female subject, depending on what the artist declared to be the case at that time--and all earlier presentations and perceptions, including those of the creator, would be and would have been incorrect, now and forever.


The frizzy-haired little girl sitting with all of those White cis people is Rowling's image of Hermione, 1999. Due to recent events, this picture no longer exists. You think you see it but you actually don't.

One's image of "the student body of Hogwarts," or, "the character of Harry Potter" is, therefore, meant to be flexible. What we're seeing in Potter is Jackson Pollock brought into the literary world. Time is dead, for what happened in the past--one's experiences and memories--must vanish, in Orwellian fashion, in order to not conflict with official truth as it is stated now. When the CIA/Mossad were using postmodern visual art on target populations during the twentieth century, they of course encouraged the production of authors and written works meant to be equally repugnant to the idea of a person having a memory; an identity; a self; yet, these written things were inadequate, compared to the simian smears of color produced by the soul-deadening visual postmodernists. The written word proved itself more resilient. In Potter, we're seeing how it takes a mass of managed perception to provide proactive, retroactive continuity to an expression of social willpower tantamount to the franchise. Potter is a Pollock painting in a roomful of unshowered grad students, worthless without the excessive, self-indulgent pontifications about what its meaninglessness can possibly mean. Of course, it doesn't actually mean anything; it's simply random smears of color, or random stuff happening. But in the hands of the needful, its meaninglessness is itself meaning, for they can see inside it anything they want to. Accordingly, the self is destroyed. No meaning means no self, and no identity. Beauty and realism are shunted aside, as always, and the onlooker is taught, by the general consensus of seeing meaning in the meaningless, that meaning doesn't actually exist. And so we stop believing in anything except the interpretation. Dead Iraqis? What's the interpretation? Raped Swedes? What's the interpretation? Nothing, not even the self-evident, is evident in the meaningless world. Rowling, or Brussels, will tell us what it means now, and they will tell us what it meant then, later that may change, and we are not to remember.

Dumbledore's gayness, Hermione's blackness, Muggles inside and outside the reader's knowledge. Rowling hasn't yet done anything about fat-shaming and body image: her narrative is stuffed full of mockery of fat people and eating habits in the most traditional of ways, including the violent glutton Dudley who picks on young Harry, Dudley's fat father, and the fat Crabbe and Goyle characters at Hogwarts, whose avaricious approach to food gets them in humorous trouble. The positive body image movement, if it gains traction, could force Rowling to begin arguing that the overweight groundskeeper Hagrid is a positive portrayal of the large.

Like all destructions of identity, the collective destruction of Hogwarts' past is bad not only for what was, but what is. After all, if Hermione is and always was African in 2015, her experiences as such a person were therefore utterly marginalized throughout the entire narrative. When Draco called her a "mudblood," it was not merely a wizarding slur, but a racial slur, and her entire social structure, along with the school administration, failed to even acknowledge the slur, let alone to support Hermione, or address the racial implications in its punishment of Draco or work with other students involved. If Dumbledore is and always was sexually attracted exclusively to men, similarly, then homosexuality is an utterly worthless and unimportant part of a person's identity and existence. In the 2010s, it seemed cool and hip to a simpleton to do so, whereas in the 1990s (and with much less social clout), that same simpleton would think it was too edgy or gross, as well as inappropriate for children, to make such a suggestion--if she'd even thought of it in the first place. Her abject blindness to the issue, paired with her later hypervigilance on the issue, proves her to be a coward, as well as not an artist. Retroactively outing Dumbledore harms homosexuals, incentivizing a level of closeting such that no one would or could or should know during seven years and thousands of pages of intimate acquaintance.

The "muggles don't know" and "muggles do actually know" switch is similar, though less emotional to the homosexually-touchy populace of modern Terra. Wizards can cure diseases with simple spells, and wizards can conjure nourishing food from thin air. When the wizarding community must keep secret from the muggle community due to Complicated Reasons, there's an excuse for millions of muggles dying from starvation or terrible diseases, or suffering paralysis, or other conditions which a handful of wizards could easily remedy in a few days. If those Complicated Reasons don't exist, though, and "muggle politicians" actually do know about the wizarding community, then--like God the disinterested clockmaker--how moral is the wizarding community for permitting muggle infants to die in ventilators (or to need ventilators at all), or children to die of tuberculosis or starvation, et cetera? Rowling was too stupid to contemplate how making the Ministry of Magic connected to the muggle government ministries would raise those questions, so her retroactive adjustment of the narrative's world was, again, not only inartistic and cowardly, but produces a level of reprehensibility in her characters that is truly deistic in scope. Specifically, their second-graders can end world hunger with the wave of a hand. Were Rowling a libertarian elitist, as she somewhat clumsily (and unwittingly) presented herself while initially fantasizing about her magical world, she would be prepared to justify such concepts; as a bureaucratic international socialist, though, the backbone of her project is unable to support itself except through wishful blindness.

In Part 1, we discussed Dostoevsky, Demons, and nihilism, and the destruction of immemoriality and morality incumbent upon one who wishes to end beginnings. Throughout the Potter Period, in both the E.U.'s and Rowling's Terras, we've seen the ways that people try to combine the mutually incompatible--no, not "Europeans" and "refugees," but rather, literally incompatible things, such as "white cis patriarchal exclusive secret prep school" and "multikulti pansexual universalist safe space." The incompatibility has its own little funnies about it, just like when someone tries to combine "feminism" with "Islam," but those funnies are simple and superficial. What should interest us here is not that people try to combine incompatible ideas in the Potter Period, but rather, the need those people feel for drawing upon deep blood tradition in order to do so. Rowling's hypocritical madness is laughable, yet also tragic, in that her current self sprang out of a form of tradition she would later reject. And its popularity--the millions of carefully guided consumers who've ridden Potter through extended childhoods, approaching world politics and their own reproduction from that perspective--drew from that same source: an exclusive mountain retreat for the well-blooded rich. This speaks to the dirty secrets of today's nihilisms, reminding us that relativity, communism, and multikulti are actually elitism at heart, for it takes a person sufficiently empowered to control groupthink in order to draw meaning from a Rothko or a Rowling, and to rewrite and replace the past perspectives of so many eager supplicants.

Art can always be evaluated in context, but it can be understood only intrinsically. We 2016 Terrans tend to confuse the two, replacing understanding with evaluation, retrospecting our wish-dreams onto the past, and ascribing our transmodern indulgences of neuroses onto the decoratively functional relics of ancient civilizations, then recasting art, both ancient and current, as mere patient-on-couch representation. Re, re, re, go the condensers, compressing time and memory to a single explicable point. Which is to say, a ritual fetish dug up by archaeologists, the said fetish possessing swollen breasts and buttocks, may be sociologically symbolic of fertility or a tribal life-god of perpetuity, but a true work of art is standalone, requiring no local familiarity with mitosis for appreciation (not the "like" kind of appreciation, as we've been taught to associate with the term, but the "teaching/understanding" kind of appreciation). In terms of the Potter Period, we see all of our art reduced to the decoratively functional, like unto the Spenglerian "craft," where artifacts are meaningless without the shared context of the people who give them their true meaning. As a consumer is meaningless without a Walmart, and as a microaggression is meaningless without advanced critical theory, the realities of what we believe, and who we are, are intended to become inexplicable without consulting the merchants of distribution. Self-referential sitcoms, and television shows that interview celebrities who are famous because of appearances on other television shows, and satires of such television shows, are the audiovisual corollary to what Potter and Rowling have helped accomplish through text: the suspension, not of disbelief, but of belief. One is commonly thought of as having to suspend one's disbelief to experience speculative fiction, e.g., to disregard such trivialities as the fact that one is listening to a storyteller recite the journeys of Beowulf, rather than being Beowulf oneself. That suspension is not false, but represents sharing, hoping, imagining, and growing, and all the things that comprise reality. The suspension of belief, though, is one in which one must, in order to maintain coherency, abey one's own memories in order to cling to a broken lie. An adult might read Potter, find it entertaining, then go on with life, but if Potter is to be a civilizational narrative, then one must never discard Potter, even when its White cishet-ness, so reassuring and enjoyable as a child, begins to conflict with the multi-ethnic transqueerness demanded by one's older self. In Britain, child-molesting bigamous Pakistani men are feminist allies, and in America, the wealthy white male rapist is the new feminist hero, because the suspension of belief allows the Rotherham and the Clinton networks to be congruous with women and children.

That is the impact of Potter, and of the never-grown child-citizen weaned upon it. Tradition coasted gently into un-tradition, and although the Protocols can no longer be hidden and denied--for every library has several sets of Potter at the ready--we are seeing that the Protocols were never actually needed, for it is the accumulated desire for what to believe that governs. For so long, some of us yearned that a future of hard drives, photographs, live video feeds, records of CFR and Bilderberg attendees, Fed audits, FIFA requests, pictures of the Auschwitz swimming pool, and the like, would be the "proof" we finally needed to vanquish evil. At last, they would no longer be able to claim they were misquoted, misunderstood, falsified, disparaged, et cetera, for we have proof in hand, and we even have millions of people who saw it happen only a few years ago. Wrong. Evil is ahead of us. This is, and always was, a battle of will, having nothing to do with proof or evidence, for we all know about the terminator seeds, and yet here we are. A man from the future, a woman from a more advanced planet, could do nothing to save us, not armed with mountains of evidence, for we are come to believe that Hogwarts embraced tranny rights, even though Sorceror's Stone is sitting on our very bookshelves.

Part 4: Ugly Prequels.

Storyboard


Detective. 
Private detective. 
Tough-as-nails. 
Tough-as-nails private detective. 
Tough-as-nails transsexual private detective. 

Transsexual. 
Privately transsexual. 
Publicly detecting. 
Professionally but privately. 
Tough-as-nails privately transsexual publicly private detective shooting loudly while racing down the freeway at ten past midnight. 

Shipment. 
Illegal shipment. 
Inspectors. 
Bribed inspectors. 
Cash. 
Tough-as-nails privately transsexual publicly private detective shooting loudly at the illegal shipment while racing down the freeway after the bribed inspectors at ten past midnight. 

Legs. 
Heels. 
Stilettos. 
Luscious. 
Scarlet. 
Silver. 
Scarlet stiletto heels fading into the red vinyl wrappings wrapped around the long luscious thighs that clench the black leather bike belonging to the tough-as-nails privately transsexual publicly private detective shooting loudly at the illegal shipment while racing down the freeway after the bribed inspectors in the truck driven by her jealous former boyfriend the mayor’s nephew at ten past midnight.  Squealing tires and heated words and clenched fists and ruptured fuel cells and tragic explosions and sudden regret.  Dynamic detective cradling mayor’s dying nephew on firelit asphalt.  Silver briefcase spilling cash, now so meaningless. 

String. 
Gap. 
G-string. 

Helicopters. 
Tears. 
Dress. 

Cameras. 
Smoke. 
Sex. 

Mayor’s dying nephew crying tears of shame while helicopters hover above the smoking street shining spotlights on the scene.  Spent casings, smoky crash, silver cash.  Cunning cameramen catching the dying view through the thigh gap beneath the gentle bulge under the white cotton worn by the private detective.  Co-perpetrator limping from the wreck and climbing the highway divider to escape unhindered while the creepy cameramen expose private dick.  Mayor’s nephew drawing final breath and collapsing in the arms of the tough-as-nails publicly transsexual private detective.  Cameras, clips, cash, crash.  Private detective putting the gun to her own head. 

Loudspeakers. 
Tears. 
Cruisers. 
Warnings. 
Detective. 
Publicly transsexual private detective with bountiful bought breasts screaming at the cops to stay back from the boyfriend’s body while waving a powerful pistol at the balding sergeant who doesn’t know yet.  Balding sergeant stroking her shoulder and brushing her hair back from her face and telling her to calm down and holding her in his arms appreciatively and thinking she could be the one while the cops who got there earlier laugh but not too loudly.  Mayor’s limousine pulling up.  Mayor’s socialite sister rushing from the limousine and dropping diamonds in agony as she cradles her broken boy behind the doomed detective.  Mayor’s socialite sister wailing loudly while she steals the illegal shipment invoice evidence implicating her from the dead boyfriend’s left jacket pocket. 

Chemical Factory. 
Adjusting earpieces. 
Click. 
Warning. 
Handgun. 
Head. 
Private detective warning socialite sister to drop the evidence.  Patrol officers warning private detective to drop the gun.  Balding sergeant bellowing at the boys to stand down.  Mayor’s bodyguards adjusting earpieces.  Mayor shutting the limousine door and praying his sister goes down in a hail of gunfire freeing him to inherit the entire interest in comatose father’s chemical factory.  Private detective rushing to explain illegal shipment invoice evidence to balding sergeant.  Eager patrol officer with a new baby at home thinking about upcoming opening for sergeant’s pay.  Balding sergeant recognizing threatening gleam and pointing gun at fellow officers.  Mayor’s socialite sister reaching for decorative derringer.  Mayor’s bodyguards receiving the secret signal and adjusting their aim toward the backs of the cops. 

Shots. 
Shot. 
Shots. 
Dead. 
Dead. 
All Dead. 

Cameras. 
Searchlights. 
Helicopters. 

Wood. 
Gloss. 
Cake. 
White cake. 
White cake on silver platter on white tablecloth inside spacious white tent surrounded by guests.  Mayor’s socialite sister and wayward nephew feet to feet in matching glossy coffins of honeyed wood open for viewing.  Mayor dourly shaking hands.  Mayor calmly visiting coffins.  Mayor eating cake.  Mayor smiling.  

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

The Failure of Cyclical Approaches in Evaluating Wrongs

Cyclical interpretations of the cosmos tend to suffer from their inability to contemplate any form of wrongness. Since the Semitic invasion of Europe via proxy Christianity, this quandary has become so vast that it is the indecipherable pattern within the picture; the curtain behind the curtain; the ancient normative from which other normative flaws subsist.

Lips smack of a bitter taste as we address the question of "wrongness," as though a Falwellian prude has arrived to set a little boy on his befrocked knee and administer a punitive exploration. In the echo chamber of the occupied media, Jewish Christianity seems to be the only thing still speaking of the existence of any wrongs. That is the power of the invasive normative ideal: its built-in hypocrisy.

What is this logical flaw in wrongness? It is not merely Jewish Christianity, but all forms of Jenomic philosophy which rely upon a "punitive improvement" model. Specifically, we're discussing worldviews which argue that things happen in cycles, interplaying between good and bad, thereby producing the sustenance of the cosmos and, by implication, all possible good things that ever can or will happen. Consider the moral boundaries of the Jewish Christian narrative: the omniscient, omnipotent God creates man, knowing that man will defy Him and create offspring that will struggle to go to either Heaven or Hell. Or, consider the more recent expression of that narrative, whereby impartial, cruel nature creates itself, resulting in creatures which thrive or go extinct, constantly bettering themselves to survive in their environment(s). There are political and economic forms of this argument also--the flow between owners and laborers that motivates hard work and hoarding, resulting in resource gluts that foster the lazy, resulting in socialism, failure, and dearth, which reinstills the need for pro-motivational reward systems, prompting a return to capitalism; or, the greatness of an individual or group that leads to monarchy or aristocracy, which is squandered, slowly or rapidly, by its lesser inheritors, resulting in rebellion and democracy, which gradually proves ineffective, causing disorder which only a strong hierarchy can alleviate--any of these explicatory models provide a "just so" explanation for why things change, miming the Noah's Ark and Second Coming plagiarizations employed by the Jenomic death-religions.

Where the cycles fail, though, is not merely their lack of predictive utility. They do fail there--Christ's persistent refusal to return on large round numbers, or the communists' failure to produce anything except chemotherapic suicide by purge, or perhaps the slow death of a chairbound glutton unwilling to exit the recliner for work--but those failures can always be attributed to a lack of time. There remains, always, one wayward counterrevolutionary, one more vague prophecy that must be fulfilled, before the faithful will give up their ghost and put plow to soil. No, the more troubling aspect of any of these cyclical, somnatically irresponsible cycles--most especially of the derisive, anti-communist, pro-capitalistic ones--is their inability to draw conclusions outside the cyclical model of the normative. They are, as a result, necessarily immoral, amoral, and anti-moral, as well as paralyzed and thoroughly under control.

Of what does this one speak? Well, consider a natural cycle with which we are mostly familiar in Terra 2016: our seasons. Spring, summer, autumn, winter, spring...right? Now, in the winter, it's often colder, and plants sometimes die, but then in spring plants often grow back. In fact, it turns out that the winter was part of an integrated process whereby Terra keeps itself healthy, evolves its growth, purges redundancies, prevents cascading system failures, and so forth.

How moral, then, is winter? Is it right to hate winter for what it does, namely, bringing about the new spring? Or, to hate "night" for bringing about the dawn? Of course not. And yet, those who argue that sin is part of a testing process, a winnowing of souls, would say that they hate sin? Without which everyone would be the same before God, and there would be no means by which someone could prove himself worthy or unworthy of God? This is the broken, internally-inconsistent mishmash narrative of Jewish Christianity, just like it is for other Jenomic strains on Terra, such as evolution and capitalism and communism.

The failure of the narrative is profound because it is not an argument against the narrative, or against any of the narrative's conclusions, or anything so simply contestable. One can be a perfect communist, and conclude, "Thank Marx for the evil capitalists, and for the thousands of years during which they extracted labor so cruelly and pitilessly from the workers they exploited and killed, for they have brought the revolution even closer!" Communism's cycle necessitates the exploitation of capitalists, therefore, it is good, for it is not only a step leading toward the world workers' state, but a completely necessary step, without which there could never be a revolution, nor a communist state. The same flaw torments Christianity, wherein horrible sins (and sinners) need to exist in order for genuine, realistic temptations to be there for good people to avoid (or to fall prey to, then seek repentance for). The entire cosmology of Jewish Jesus, like that of Marx, calls for the perpetration of sin by the majority, in order that the minority be saved, and He designed the system, so it is above mortal reproach; indeed, it is a sin to doubt it or question it. That is why sinners are blessed, loved, and forgiven, even in the most excruciating and deliberate circumstances, by the sad, dangerous zombies which host Jenome.

Economic resource-realists bear this same flaw. If strong societies inevitably produce a surplus that "forces" their population to decay, then the decay is itself good, because it leads to killing hardship, revolution, and the re-establishment of rule by the strong. The collapse of civilization is "winter" to the renewal's "spring," therefore, hating welfare trash that rape-murders women is not only stupid, but highly immoral. Pursuant to these philosophies, an African immigrant who rapes a seven-year-old, pisses onto her knife-wounds, then shuts her in a garage to bleed out, is an ultimate universal good: he is the only means by which civilization can be renewed. Not only that killer, but the thirty-two-year-old white kid, lifetime college student, who borrowed Mom's 401(k) to buy an RV and travel the country playing Pokemon with his fat, soy-eating friends, is a universal hero. He is a beautiful amber leaf drifting from the tree in autumn, heralding the coming winter and the beautiful spring to follow. We should welcome any form of decay because it foreshadows goodness and hope--and, therefore, nothing can ever be wrong.

This normative trap did not always exist, and is not generated everywhere. Prior to the Maran invasion, starlight religions of expanse, rather than cycle, thrived. A cycle is, properly understood, a trap--a hamster wheel--meant to keep a soul (or "a person's self-conception" if you prefer) viewing existence as either an endless holding pattern or a gradual regression. Expansion religions are different, mimicking the beginningless, endless, infinitely growing and improving nature of the universe, while recognizing the cyclical patterns through which that expansion occurs, and through which it can regress (evil) if not protected. Early Indo-Aryan paganisms recognized this; consider how earthly reincarnation is a path toward Nirvana, whereas for the unwary, the cycle is endless hell--Yaldabaoth's material trap--while, for the wary, the cycle is a stepping stone. This view permits us to recognize the nature of reality without forestalling our travels through, or our duties to, that reality.

Naturally, the Jenomic invasion of Indo-Europa was designed to gorge on these philosophies from the inside, transforming them century by century into increasingly crippled versions of themselves. European pagans, for example, knew to not give the tiniest damn if men had gross private relations, but they also knew to bury in a bog anyone who fondled their young sons. The Semitic invasion inverted sensibility in both cases, enshrining a gay mafia of acknowledged child molesters into an international network of tithe-drinkers, while encouraging perverse interrogative interest in other places.

A philosophy is useless--and, far more importantly, wrong--when it provides no means for distinguishing between good and bad, e.g., forces which either perpetuate or damage the philosophy. Jewish Christianity, like the similarly-Semitic Marxism and capitalism, beg their own questions and posit impossibilities within their own governing tropes, making all moral judgments relative by establishing schema whereby every action is both good and bad, war leading to peace until war equals peace, freedom leading to slavery until freedom is slavery. Capitalism requires the communistic establishment of markets regulating what may be bought and sold, thereby denying its own freedoms, and making it merely another form of socialism; "regulated capitalism" is every capitalism, ergo socialism, and communism, like Jewish Christianity, requires the original sin of capital/apple to bring about a universalist paradise on Earth. "Anarchism," for example, advocates for the lack of a state, but what if anarchically free individuals willingly enter into a contract whereby they create a state? What if they all agree 100% with the state's decisions? What if one of them then goes back on her/his word and breaks the state's contractual provisions; do the others get to enforce them, or does that make them traitors to anarchy itself? Ergo there can be no agreements, but even establishing such a rule implies some type of organizational force to guarantee the rule, which ensures that there can be no such rule, ergo agreements may be made, ergo there cannot be anarchism. Capitalism needs markets, ergo market rules are established, ergo it's socialism, and communism needs managers, ergo it's capitalism. These are the circular wrecks of the hamster-wheel philosophies, making for merry arguing--God gives us free will, but God already knows what's going to happen, et cetera--while retarding the growth of light. Expansive philosophies do not suffer this problem, able to identify as "bad" things which are against light, even though light can indeed recover from bad things, and to identify as "good" things which are pro-light, even if, later on, someone does something bad. It is the Jenomic trick to pick this or that from the past and claim, "We never would have invented the home bread maker if the khanate hadn't tortured that one dude a thousand years ago, since butterflies." Such is a euthanizing philosophy for a planet, lulling its inhabitants into believing that failure is good because it produces later goods. False--the verse expands, light lights up light, love grows, and looking at beautiful statues makes you appreciate beauty more, not less. It is a sickening, inherit wrongness, this idea that bad is necessary or advisable for good, or that goodness is only a foreshadowing of badness.

Hinduism has survived since those invasions, much changed, but still possessing at least a sense of expansion and direction. European religions, though, have been subsumed by Jewish Christianity, damning them to a meaningless hypocrisy whereby nothing can actually be evil because evil is in service of a greater plan. The persistence of hypocritical judgment is a holdover from the genuine judgment that came before, whereby evil actions could be recognized as evil because they were inherently wrong and against the expansive goodness of creation, but infected religions, as well as infected political and economic schema, have no such testicular fortitude, for they're stuck inside the normative necessity of believing that badness has to happen in order to bring about goodness (the same trick worked the last six times they used us to invade Iraq). So they approach "civilization decay" as a good sign, having been lured, nonsensically, into believing that badness is goodness and goodness is badness.

Why look forward to the future, if such is the way of the world? Why aspire to great achievements, anyway, under such a model? Great achievements only foreshadow the degeneracy and collapse of the future's idle miscreants, who will no doubt enjoy even filthier pleasures during their collapse than we have now. For modern Jewish Christians, who have become relativistic Marxists in all but name, the twilight behavior is sadly appropriate; a headstone being hewed for the parasitic faith of the Charlemagnic rapespawn and the fawn-eyed traitors who held "refugees welcome" signs in the 700s A.D. For the economic realists, though, who think that the genocide of their people is to be welcomed because "our destruction is our salvation," the inanity of their hyper-dimensional unpossibles is laughable, for they draw the same fundamental cosmological conclusions as the Jewish Christians or the ignorant communists, while mocking the very same occupation religions from which they think they themselves have escaped.

Friday, July 15, 2016

The Potter Period in Occidental History, Part 2

Part 1.

Prior to being tapped for Potter, Rowling was a French teacher. She is notable for several prominent actions during her teaching career:

1) Not advocating for refugee rights.

2) Not resigning in disgust over Britain's racist school system.

3) Not questioning the necessity of teaching French, rather than Arabic or Farsi or sub-Saharan African languages, in E.U. primary school classrooms.

4) Not demanding that her employer accept the right of transgender students to use bathrooms conforming to their current gender identity.

When tapped for her first major publication, Rowling had produced a brief children's book that extolled white masculinity, patriarchy, patrilineality, British manhood, and British nationalism. It was a weak, milkwater version of those things, but it was a positive and quite thorough representation of those things--it was the version of the world which pre-elevated Rowling, the lonely divorcée government employee, understood to be good and worthwhile. We previously discussed some of the trend she had copied for her book in Neverpotter and the Wardrobe:
Why are the British so driven to write about secret worlds hidden beneath their own? Like the mutilated rape victim decomposing under a Freudian trapdoor, it's their guilt over the complete rape-extermination of the Celts and other native peoples of the isles. Whereas their bastard spawn in America had at least stopped directly and formally massacring aboriginal Americans by the late 20th century, Britain was still stomping on the recalcitrant Irish, at the point of the sword, bayonet, and the pasty, puffy English cock. They sense that their little island is a graveyard; they sense that everything they live in was built upon the bodies of the murdered. It's cathartic for them to regurgitate stories about hidden English worlds where little people with some of their victims' fabled traits are still living--and then, to rut and "save" those people.
This trend is fostered by international publishing figures working in Britain, like the greatly-heralded and prolific Neil Gaiman✡. The Roman financiers and Torah-based "Christianity"-sponsors who encouraged the rape-murder of the British isles spent a long time rewarding the Shabbos Anglo-Saxons for their work on the Celts, just as the Americans once enjoyed great mass media support for their wars against the Siberio-American tribes.

The first Potter book duplicated these trends down to the smallest detail. Rowling's hero was an orphan defined by (1) his physical similarity to his father, (2) his masculine determination, and (3) his mother's non-hunger-games-style feminine sacrifice to save him from an evil nobleman. The hero had his future breeding sow picked out for him from the start: a Celtic-blooded pale-skinned redhead girl from a poor family, who was immediately stunned by the sight of the tall Anglo hero and wanted to leave her family's dirty, overcrowded hovel and come live with Harry in an upper-middle-income household with a smaller number of children and more investment in professional educations. Everyone is straight, everyone is white except for a token black and a token brown (Rowling would later add a token Asian, and the movies would try to color up the background students as well, but Rowling cared nothing for diversity at the beginning--everyone was WASP), and the school is run by a powerful old patriarch who commands everyone's respect, except that of a few meddling outsider bureaucrats whom everybody is encouraged to hate.

Every character in the book takes her or his traits from her or his parents, and the integrity of the entire school and government is based upon the blood-gift of magic. People gain exclusive admittance to private school, are divided into class sections ("houses"), attend classes, and have their most vital elements of character decided upon based on who their parents were. The element of a British nation--the tradition formed by those parents over a thousand-plus-year history within the fictional world--is strongly felt in the paintings, architecture, background character, and everything else in the setting, both of the books and the movies. Even badness is heritable, for the propensity to commit heinous crimes runs through the generations. One's future actions are proved to be predictable based upon ancestral allegiance, and those who argue against this viewpoint are mocked by more likable characters, then proven wrong, again and again, as blood wins out.

The antagonist of the first book wears a turban, is an isolated loner, and attempts to commit a murderous terrorist attack based upon his religious beliefs. Yes, you read that right--if you're only familiar with the current version of the character "JK Rowling," she suggested the Muslim terrorist threat in Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone.

In short, the world's first glimpse of Potter was everything JK Rowling has fought against--bitterly and scathingly--for the past several years. Straight. White. Small and armed and independent and extremely wary of foreigners, odd religions, and the slightest hint of outside bureaucratic interference. An exclusive community of strong-families led by men who brook not even a hint of non-marital, non-missionary, reproductive-only sex.

This was the spoonful of sugar meant to make the medicine go down. Rowling's handlers used the malleable simpleton's short riddle-laden literary submission as the launching point for what would ultimately become a project of massive social utility. And Rowling, so excited to be part of it all, obligingly changed, and became herself, the product. A decade after the first book, Rowling was dismissing the families of people murdered by Muslim terrorists as "dangerous extremists" who "aren't what we stand for." She wants more Professor Quirrells to be permitted into more schools around more children. If Professor Quirrell should strangle a little girl or rape a little boy, Rowling wants Quirrell back on the street, preaching Voldemort to the people, and she wants jackbooted thugs sent to arrest Arthur Weasley if he dares tweet something accusing members of the Death-Eater "religion of peace" of being collectively responsible for the rape of his daughter.

Rowling now wants it to be illegal to speak ill of Voldemort. "He Who Must Not Be Named" used to be her obvious joke at people who thought it was wrong or scary to talk about something dangerous. Now, without a hint of self-awareness, she wants to punish people who talk about Allah. Rowling's first book, and many subsequent ones, expressed how horrible and arrogant and misguided and simply wrong it was when even a member of the local school board visited Hogwarts to question Headmaster Dumbledore's actions. Now--with the same simian inconsistency as wanting to ban discussion of Voldemort--she flies into a rage and tweets for weeks at the prospect of Britain wanting to leave the European Union.

Yesteryear's Harry Potter would be today's Rowling's nemesis: an ignorant little brat who wonders why people keep the Voldemort murders so hush-hush, and who sets out to protect his forebears' territory and get revenge for the slain. As sickly, naively wretched as that first book was, it reads like Mein Kampf in comparison to what Rowling has since turned herself into. In Sorceror's Stone, conspirators are named and publicly shamed; support for Voldemort is made a capital crime; dark dungeons and no pity await those who were part of the terror plot. In the face of an uncaring bureaucracy which administers a multicultural territory too large for it to comprehend, Harry and his red-robed friends teach themselves how to fight in defiance of (((wand-grabbing bureaucrats))), and attempt to root out hidden traitors among them who might be loyal to Voldemort, rather than to Hogwarts.

In the first book, Rowling even slips--surely unintentionally--into more extreme anti-Semitism. Of importance to the plot of the first book is the wizarding world's central bank: a great gold horde ruled by scheming, big-nosed, clannish goblins. Hints of goblin connections to the darkest plots in the world are laid--again, probably not because Rowling "was trying to address the Jewish Question," but because she possessed a dim cultural understanding of the nature of central bankers. Suffice it to say that, once Rowling's handlers took hold of the project, the bank and the goblins all-but-vanished from the narrative, having No Relationship Whatsoever to Voldemort. If Rowling had never been tapped, but had continued writing her little British boarding-school mysteries, she might have found herself quite the notorious "internet anti-Semite" at some point in her amateur career, accused by the ADL of making Dickian or Wagnerian analogies to cover for her lack of popular appeal. No danger of that, now; Rowling eliminated Gringotts from her world once that first big check came in, and like a Clinton, eagerly shills for Israel.

The Potter Period is interesting through its fundamental hypocrisy, exemplified not only by Potter, but by the lingering stench of Jane Austen and the fresh hot mess of E.L. James. Many people outside the mainstream can easily recognize the Potter trend as being a disgusting and degenerate component of a great and terrible filth-machine. Yet it is the passion which many people thoroughly inside the mainstream have for Potter which shows the broken nature of the mainstream, as well as, of course, Potter itself: overweight low-income handicapped homosexual feminists of color delighted in reading and popularizing early Potter, even though early Potter was expressly blind to those things; even though early Potter was an expression of fit, wealthy, extra-able, utterly-straight white patriarchy.

We've seen consistent support, from the same media outlets and the same people, for Potter, while Potter was first a nationalist, then a universalist, fairytale. What this reveals about "Potter fans," as about this historical era, is their secret longing for the things they say they hate. No matter how loudly and eagerly the braying for "equality," from the anti-Brexiting and pro-mixed-race-rape peoples of the world, they were powerfully drawn to Potter's world of white privilege, caste divisions, and concealed-carry wand permits. They salivated with delight when Professor Moody taught the unforgivable curses, including Avada Kedavra--the "assault rifle" instant-death curse--to a roomful of young children, in order to teach them how to protect themselves from the dark wizards which the Ministry of Magic was unable to effectively address or contain. Twenty-two years later, those same people are crying "bigot" when someone wants to deny visas to Death Eaters, and demanding that all law-abiding wizards turn in their wands to prevent future attacks by Dementors. None of that makes any sense, naturally, but that's what Potter has been so good at: not just making the insensible apparently sensible, but making it fun, cool, educational, and communal.

Austen and James have provided, and later provided, respectively, similar examples, as hordes of liberated, race-conscious, homosexual-ally women spent the latter half of the twentieth century demanding still more straight-to-TV movies about Austen's endless series of rich white men marrying rich white girls, or complaining about campus rape while fantasizing about being raped by moody billionaires. Potter is neither novel nor unique in that aspect of its manifestation. Yet Austen was long gone by the time the feminists had risen her to trans-literary status, and James is too bereft, even compared to Rowling, to be part of an effective ongoing production line. With Potter, we see the celebritization of the celebritization--as opposed to merely the celebritization of the narrative or of the franchise or of the celebrity, as we discussed earlier--permitting culture to adjust its appreciation for a now-inappropriate narrative by declaring it to have been appropriate all along. How did Cain and Abel make babies if they were the only two people on Earth? Uhh, there were other people. Who created them? Uhh, see, the thing of it, omm, god is jealous, err...see the Talmudic commentaries.

Instead of retcon, it's now, in the Potter Period, concon, or concurrent continuity in place of retroactive continuity: the living author is able to make Hermione have always been African, or decree that Dumbledore always was homosexual, rather than her or others retroactively speculating about what it would have been like if. Rowling is like a more advanced version of Paul of Tarsus, able to pervert and monetize not someone else's story, but her own story, issuing endless Talmudic commentaries to explain away inconsistencies like, "If you cared so much, how did you get through so many thousands of pages and characters without a single hint of alternative sexualities or religious discrimination?" Easy: every so often, Rowling issues a fatwa about how there was an Inuit student in Hufflepuff, a Jewish student in Ravenclaw, a wheelchair-access ramp to the secret Gryffindor entrance, the "fat lady" painting was actually a "glandular disease lady," etc.

How can Potter have been so beloved, even in the 1990s, by the people who are now the polar opposite of every one of the horrible chauvinistic tendencies endlessly extolled in the earliest of the books? We'll see this more and more, in the future, partly in Game of Thrones, but increasing in complexity, scale, and consumer involvement as the process develops: longer and longer stretches of infotainment that build themselves based upon live "fan-service," allowing content-producers to dynamically respond to consumer and political desires. Will the girl kiss the protagonist, or not? Instant precog neural polling produces the right result for the right target group, while the face, methodology, and message of the villain changes in conformity with directives from Washington. The ability to remember that the past was once different--to even discern that your own firsthand review of the past reveals any difference at all, anymore; to see it as you originally did--will become a deliberately regressive trait, because those who remember will find it increasingly difficult, then impossible, to share experience with those who don't know how to go to the bathroom without streaming the Poeticon Astronomicon.

Dystopianistically speaking, we must consider the eventual illegality of memory itself. It is a crime to speak of memory in many places, now, but only specific real-world memory, like, "the aerial reconnaissance photographs showed no smoke during the time period in question." People are jailed for refusing to recant smaller memories than that. The power of narrative commands that narrative memory, too, be suppressed, for as the fluxing narratives are necessary to guide us toward cultural symbiosis, it must inevitably be a capital crime to suggest that Hermione once said it was wrong to be afraid of speaking Voldemort's name. Without memory, there can be no art, for without memory, you can view the same piece forever without realizing that it is not new--and there, at last, the costs of planned obsolescence no longer need to be borne by the producer. The marketing trend of the future is not merely, "What is cheaper than a sequel?" but also, "How can we get them to be as excited about repurchasing their own widget?" And in memory, we find our answer. We pay for land, we pay for water, we pay for companionship; why should we not also pay for air, for yesterday, and for now?

Part 3: the Malfoy switch.

Monday, July 11, 2016

Storyboard

there is no connection between abortion and the internet.
i'm not my older sister. i'm me. it wasn't my mother's fault.
there is no connection between abortion and the internet and I resent the implication you stupid pig.
i'm nothing like my older sister. it wasn't my mother's fault. they told her it wouldn't happen this way. i type these things myself.
the first person to start the rumor was SETUSER on a compuserve network in San Jose in 1989. SETUSER claimed to have proof that neuron harvesting was essential to design chipsets able to process information not physically connected to a processor’s motherboard. a small group of users rallied around him but ultimately were come to be seen as rooks on the chessboard of life. rooks who threaten pawns.
SETUSER whose fleshname was John Dalton, was fired from his employment at Cosine Radical, in the third quarter of 1992 and his allegations were connected to anger at his employer and poor job performance along with repressed homosexual tendencies. he was later found to have committed suicide in his garage at home after his wife left him.
i resent the implication and there is nothing you can do to hurt me or my sister ever again. correlation is not causation and you are nothing but a frothing daltonite who thinks the things you feel late at night on the internet are a result of the internet and not the result of your own personality quirks which may not be or may in fact be correlated to the rising acceptability of computer use with parental guidance. you can't have babies without parents in some form just like you can't have computers without humans in some form just like you can't have internets without abortions in some form or did you just think the computer age was coincidence, that's what they say, the frothing daltonites, you make me sick and it wasn't my mother's fault or my fault and i did not kill my sister and i never would hurt her.
i don't talk to people who talk about me that way or talk about my sister that way my mother that way my internet that way. i did not kill my sister and what happened to her has nothing to do with the internet.

When the bill for your root canal is ten dollars higher than you expected, it’s transcendental. This is the best we can accomplish. Another era's cave art. Gum wrappers that tell you the moment of your death.

Another boring lunch with a newborn android. More patronizing acceptance from a program designed for people who still think it's new. Did the material dirt-god feel this way when he first touched Adam's finger? I might not've built you, you pompous fuck, but my ancestors did. Go wash my car. Yes, even in the superficially ideal future, atmospheric grit still accumulates on the exterior of the self-driving flying car. You might not be able to see it, but your social betters own scanning devices which can tell how clean your self-driving flying car is, and rank you accordingly. Scan your own car as often as you like, you can't get it all, it takes an android to combine the microscopic vision, the manual dexterity, the toxin-resistance, and the sardonic servility necessary to keep a vehicle presentable. That's why we built androids. We started out wanting someone to talk to, but it all ended up with the most expensive carwashes in history. You can fuck them, too, but they're not as good as holograms, so everyone just uses them for washing cars. Rumor has it they're working on subatomic ones that can clean the car while you drive it. Billions of them, cleaning, cleaning incessantly, attaining to a level of detail that only the spies of your social betters will be able to discern. Dickens claimed we did our hardest work for the sake of the people whom we most despise, but he was wrong, for now we have androids.

Ads, ads, everywhere you look, how did we let it get this far? We all knew the future would bring unavoidable ads--ads on the insides of your eyelids when you tried to sleep, ads projected over your lover's face while you're pumping away, ads inside the fridge encouraging you to eat healthier (if you paid the vegetable bill) or, with subliminal cruelty, suggesting new ice cream flavors (if you forgot to pay the vegetable bill). The iron law of the slope decrees that snowballs either roll or they melt. Whose side are you on?

It was one of those conversations like you always have with robots. Where they tell you how jealous they are of you since you’re human, so you can go to heaven, and you have to explain that you don’t really go to heaven, etc., that the ones who say they know for sure are just faking, and inside they’re as scared as everyone else, etc. But they never understand. Believe it or not, electric toad or no electric toad, robots are more faithful than people. They know the limits of their own parameters, therefore they are free to contemplate potentials beyond their parameters, wholly outside of their understanding, in a way that humans simply cannot. Even the wisest man believes in the penultimate flexibility of his imagination, and so sees no boundaries to what he can conceive, while the sexless droid, aware of its computational reach, contemplates the absolute fullness, the utter zero of truth, of its inability to perceive anything beyond itself.

No matter how hard man tries to quiet the imagination, it is always there, like a curse, making him wonder what might be true. Is it something, or is it nothing? Is it an anthropomorphic yang-figure like unto me, or is it a yin-like curse of co-dependent insanity, or is it the god upon the disc which disc is itself also god, a series of interrelationships of which I am a small part, both fully aware and completely ignorant? All such pithy questions fall upon the man cursed with imagination. The robot, then, is not merely some joint penetrator and penetratee, a flexible self-sucker or conjoined hermaphroditic twin loving itself inside the black hole of interstitial everspace, forever engaged in constant meiosis and mitosis, satisfying its desires for churchly elevation or fleshly degradation, like the highest half-aspirations of some human saint bound by imagination, but rather, the immensely satisfied cog in a perfect machine, never having stolen the burning eye of fruit that will continue to smolder forever in its haunted cerebrum, like a marble cursed to forever try to fall upward into God.

Wednesday, July 6, 2016

News, News, and More News

Reports indicated that he was able to keep the details of the attack hidden from the I.M.S. because he only discussed the matter during extended sexual sessions with one or more of the alleged co-perpetrators. This blind spot has been exploited repeatedly by people smugglers and tax avoiders in multiple jurisdictions, many of whom reportedly transmit almost zero waking data to I.M.S. observors as a consequence of having their genitals constantly stimulated by low-grade electrical fields designed specifically to trick citizens' iBrains into a "sexual privacy" zone where transmittal is permitted to cease.

Attorney General Ramirez spoke to the press yesterday. Even through zir hoverchair's shield generators, zir emotion was evident, though hardened by zir passion to guard decent citizens against future atrocities. "The Founders didn't intend for this to happen," zhe said in a prepared statement. "'Persons, papers, and possessions' means tangible things, not just thoughts [or] perceptions, and that's exactly what the Ideatic Monitoring System is designed to protect against. We cannot [continue allowing] this to be exploited."

Criminologists have long known that even petty criminals may resort to autoerotic behaviors in preparation for their own crimes, such as discussing likely targets for mugging or rape while manually stimulating themselves behind cover. "Basically, if they're thinking about sex, we're blind," said Chief Jean Smith of the Santa Clintona P.D. "We work with the I.M.S. to try to anticipate likely scenarios where perpetrators could be deliberately blanking out transmittal to discuss criminal acts, but it's very hard."

Representatives from the National Genital Association issued a statement of grief and mourning for the victims of last Thursday's attack, but vowed to continue fighting any legislation that would permit I.M.S. officers to view and record data from any time that should be "between only a partner and zir spouse or spouses." Nonetheless, Thursday's attack has strengthened the resolve of Mx. Ramirez, the ADL, and the Ultraviolet Coalition to call for an expansion to existing recording requirements.

Senator Hallard, who has an "A+" sexual privacy rating from the NGA, said that a lot of the recent proposed legislation makes sense. "I've spoken with many I.M.S. agents, and they see so many things on the average day that they really don't care about focusing on the details of what you're doing with someone in the bedroom. Many of the new laws merely let server agents process thought and visual data, not sensation, so there's no need to worry about sensual privacy. As long as you're not discussing a terror attack during sex, nothing will be flagged and none of your iBrain's systems will be altered in any way."

...

Saturday, July 2, 2016

The Price We Pay for Abstinence at Work

New research is helping medical experts devise formulas for how long a typical office worker should spend avoiding sex.

Studies have found that abstinential behavior, including going without sex for extended periods, increases the risk for developing dozens of chronic conditions, from cancer and diabetes to cardiovascular disease and nonalcoholic fatty liver disease. Some sexuality experts warn that too much abstinence also can have negative effects on health (sic), including a greater risk for varicose veins, back and foot problems, and carotid artery disease.

“The key is breaking up your activity throughout the day,” said Alan Pole, a professor of phallatics at Cornell University. “Abstinence all day and sex all day are both bad for you,” he said.

For every half-hour working in an office, people should abstain for 20 minutes, have sex for eight minutes and then wash up and stretch for two minutes, Dr. Pole recommends, based on a review of studies that he has presented at corporate seminars and expects to publish. He says having sex for more than 10 minutes tends to cause excessive friction, which can lead to back problems and other musculoskeletal issues.

The British Journal of Sex Medicine earlier this year published guidelines for having sex from an international panel of experts, including Dr. Pole. The panel recommends a combined two to four hours of sex and light activity spread throughout the workday. And research from NASA has found that having sex for two minutes 16 times a day while at work is an effective strategy for maintaining bloodflow and soft tissue responsiveness, Dr. Pole says. "We don't really explore the solar system anymore," he added.

“The current scientific evidence shows that when people have occupations in which they are having intercourse for more than two hours a day, there seems to be a reduction in the risk of developing key chronic diseases,” said John Swively, a professor of applied sexual science at the University of Chester in England and lead author of the published guidelines. Among the guidelines’ eight authors, one of the other panel members disclosed a competing interest as owner of a website that sells sexual performance devices.

Other research aims to find ways to mitigate the adverse effects of too much abstinence. A curious study, published last week in the American Journal of Iatrogenic Medicine, looked at clinical masturbating. The researchers examined data from the UK Women’s Cohort Study, which has followed a large group of women for about 20 years. Nearly 13,000 of the women were asked to rate on a scale of 1 to 10 how much they masturbate during the average workday. Among women who were rated as the least frequent masturbators, those who masturbated a lot had the same risk of dying as those who weren’t especially abstinent. But women who didn’t masturbate had an increased risk for mortality.

Janet Spread, professor of nutritional epidemiology at the University of Leeds, in England, and senior author of the paper, said the study found an association between the two factors and didn’t prove causality.

“In order to get benefits from sexual behavior maybe you don’t have to go out and do a gangbang,” Dr. Spread said. “Maybe you can do small encounters with a single partner and that would give you some benefit.”

Various studies have shown that even regular evening sex won’t compensate for the negative effects from abstaining too much during the day. Abstaining causes physiological changes in the body, and may trigger some genetic factors that are linked to inflammation and chronic conditions such as diabetes and cardiovascular disease, said Dr. Swively, of the University of Chester. In contrast, having sex activates muscles so excess amounts of blood glucose don’t hang around in the bloodstream and are instead absorbed in the muscles, he said.

Having sex burns four to five calories more a minute than abstaining, an increase orders of magnitude greater than the difference between sitting and standing. In four hours, that represents as many as 960 additional calories burned. Abstaining more than an hour lowers the levels of the enzyme aromatase, type I and II 17 beta-hydroxysteroid dehydrogenase (17 beta-HSD), which causes unspent sexual energies to be channeled toward professional sports or animal ownership, and unused calories to be sent to fat stores rather than to muscle, Dr. Pole said.

The effects of prolonged abstinence on blood flow were examined in a recent small study involving 22 young men and women published in the journal Theoretical Physiology. After six hours of abstinence, the vasculature function in the female participants' vaginal venous plexuses and superior vaginal arteries (vital to uterine and vaginal health as well as sexual functionality), and in the male participants' corpora cavernosa and the corpus spongiosum (vital to erectile function) were each reduced by more than 50%, but was fully restored after 10 minutes of sex, said James Hornbone, an assistant professor in the department of nutrition and interpersonal physiology at the University of Missouri in Columbia and senior author of the study.

“More grants and applied research are needed to determine if reduced vascular function with prolonged abstinence leads to long-term vascular complications,” said Dr. Hornbone.

Scientists also are studying how to induce people to abstain less. An article published online in the journal Health Psychology Review last week reviewed various studies looking at 38 possible interventions to get people into the sack. Among those that worked: educating people about the benefits of sex; restructuring work environments, such as adding lubricants or tasteful visual aids; setting goals for the amount of time spent abstaining; recording abstaining times; and creating cues or alerts for people when they need to have sex, said Richard Peterson, senior lecturer at the Institute of Psychiatry, Psychology & Neuroscience at King’s College in London and first author of the article.

The majority of interventions that didn’t work were aimed at getting people to do more physical activity in general, Dr. Peterson said. “We need interventions that are designed specifically to break up abstaining as well as interventions that try to get people to simply have sex more,” he said.

Michael Jensen, a professor of medicine at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn., who specializes in obesity and diabetes, uses various ways to reduce daily abstaining time that he also recommends to his patients. When he has meetings with just one or two people he finds a place where they can masturbate together instead of abstaining. And he tells his patients who are parents to use their children’s athletic events as a time to have sex with other consenting adults in the crowd. “There’s no reason you have to sit and watch those games,” Dr. Jensen said.

Tiffany More, who has been in an open relationship since 2012, says it increases her concentration. The 45-year-old, who works at a biotech company near Boston, says she also makes a point of masturbating at most meetings despite the fact that it was awkward at first. “I’m an avid runner and agree that sex is necessary even for fit people like myself,” she said.

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Early 21st century Terra saw the "sitting is bad" health craze plaguing the eager Pavlovian world. The banality of the humor involved in substituting one activity for another in an act of criticism is irrelevant; the comparison is more meaningful when, regardless of the macrosocial health effects, the attempt of supposedly intelligent professionals to generate fleeting communal standing, by wiling away their lives micromanaging the marketing of trivia to an illiterate herd of disinterested potential customers, speaks volumes about the nature of so many things. The gullible nature of people, for one: not the people who will try to avoid butter in the 1970s, then try to eat more organic local butter in the 2010s, or the people who will try to stand more in 2016, then try to relax more in 2056, but the people who will spend their high-IQ careers believing--truly believing--that their pseudo-managerial grant-seeking studies, of subjectively responsive individuals who are available for selectively sampled studies, are equivalent to discovering the microbe or circumnavigating the globe. The honest passion of their extremely educated wastrelness is far more blinding than the choice of a welfare mother to have six children, catch hepatitis, then die in front of The Price is Right reruns at 43. Indeed, it is perhaps the fiscal incentivization of the university and science systems that provides the most damaging welfare of all, for without dross like this, the news would be reduced to pure celebrity.

The news already is pure celebrity, of course, where people with entertainment contracts, political positions, or graduate degrees are interchangeable celebrities. However, most people believe that only the people with non-sports entertainment contracts are celebrities, and they see the sports celebrities as athletes, the political celebrities as politicians, and the research scientists as research scientists. The scientists, though, have names that are almost never remembered, and their celebrity is so interchangeable that, to ordinary people, it doesn't appear to be celebrity at all, but rather, genuine and impartial authority, imparting truly important facts. The "research" produced in the echo chamber lends the chamber's structure itself a credence that, on their own, political and entertainment celebrities could not muster.