The Stupid World is everything that is the Stupid Case.
They were right, I was the most pretentious writer on that stupid board with my new-age psychedelic obsession. By itself that'd be middling-level pretention, but there was the extra element of thinking it was all intellectual and artistic. So far up my own meta-ass, I was frenching Lemiwinks the Gerbil. Can't read it back any more, so cringe. Cringe-calling's gonna be cringe pretty soon... oh, already is.
George Carlin wasn't being ironic when he was gonna title his standup special "I like it when a lot of people die", just before 9/11/01. Comic exaggeration maybe, but seriously, we need a die-off. I can't talk about overpopulation any more though, just can't distinguish myself from a eugenicist or anti-natalist to people on my side. I guess, be the change I wanna see, leave a negative legacy. By that I mean, don't procreate but don't be judgmental about it, do what I think is a positive act in a passive way, negating the birth rate infinitesimally and open space for necessary new minds. But don't pretend it's not my personal path of least resistance.
I guess this is what happens when you don't have comrades, and continue to be an anti-social socialist. What set me off most recently was Elon Musk whining about taxes after making 36,000,000,000 in one day, having paid something like 3% tax over the last several years using legal loopholes, against the backdrop of corporations gutting a promising-for-two-seconds US spending bill, where climate legislation was nerfed by a coal profiteer senator who blames asia for the crisis. It's too much.
"When do we get to use the guns?" the slobbering psycho asked Charlie Kirk. The awkward position I'm in is that I kinda wanna use them too, for different reasons, but it's all a wash for normies. First I have to take a safety course like my life depends on it, so I don't kill myself or a friend, statistically the most likely outcome, even factoring in righteous rage. Especially factoring that in, so while I'm at it, should probably up my meds to keep me on the right side of suicide, keep vengeance on ice for a parole stint. I wanna kill billionaires and I'm indiscriminate there, Gates, Soros, Bezos, Rowling, Kanye, Koch, any will do. We can start there, maybe end there, it'd put enough scare into the centi-millionaires before the great expropriation. It's just a thought crime, not a plan, ok google? The point is to decapitate. I know, I'm just a terrorist at that point, validating horseshoe theory. I fully expect to be denounced by all, even theoretical comrades. The most radical will still say it was a dumb strategy, I did it wrong. I just hope I got something rolling, a head start on the future. It only took 27,000 heads for the French Terror to be a household name in history. That did something.
I've also opted fully into the panopticon, this could be a problem. Ok, google? Are you happy now? Hey google, how do I begin to burn it down? Will you sell me the rope to hang you with? You black-pilled me, now you're gonna leave me hanging? Ah, you're ∞ steps ahead of me anyway, you know this'll just be filtered into a profit-maximizing behavioral algorithm. Google assistant is a mostly useless shiny toy but it gives the illusion of convenience and productivity. This is the latest iteration of edgy socio-technological critique, it'll age like milk and memes.
The revolution will not be blogged. I heard the original "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" excerpted in the Sopranos movie, sounded good actually, irony-free cool jazz, nostalgia for my pre-existence. That Sopranos movie... was trying to convince myself it was good after, but then my podcast daddies popped the bubble for me. Even these Soprano fans knew it was dogshit, and I realized. Not that I didn't enjoy it for real, even got swept up in David Chase's stupid middle-aged take on race-relations in '70s Newark. I'll own that.
I achieved the rank of most pretentious on that sandbox board, but it's not like I was that far above everyone else. There were a few sincere writers, msfinch was a standout. Trashpo was way realer than me but still irony-poisoned. It was sweetly sick how raz and I roused each other to be more portentous pickled-peppers than we'd otherwise be alone. Trash and I most certainly synergized to maximize that slammy sound that's dry toast without music.
But you others on that board, oh my god, you edge-lords. You still came off better than I did, but not by much. Revel in your vile glory, so oxy.
Hit bottom on nostalgia abuse a long time ago, there's no more resin to scrape off and smoke. Don't know when I'll be able to fashion something new, that's dependent on when I'm willing to abandon nihilism abuse. It's no better than the former. It's silly, it's like za nihilists in The Big Lebowski, vee beleef in naseeng! So why would I care?
I started this with the thought that if I could clearly work out the deep roots of my ideas and feelings on the world today, and politics, and the future, I could make progress, rise out of the black muck, but I'm still here.
