Tag: Alt Right Delete

  • octopus messiah matrix of a male dominatrix

    octopus messiah matrix of a male dominatrix

    Octopus Messiah Matrix Of The Male Dominatrix. 

    “we’ll just have to wait and see”, does not cut it for me, when asking the 64 trillion dollar question, how much is bluff, how much of what he says does he mean? And furthermore, of what he is actually referring to, most probably far far away from what he thinks he means. What is talk and what will be action? 

    One approach is to formulate an O-meter, some kind of spectrum or some parameters by which to measure. For example, one side is based on everything he says is bluff and bluster, the other that he not only means what he says but that there exists the logistics, funding and manpower to execute his orders immediately. Depending how much of a Trump fan you are, may skewer your reading of where on this Trump Bluff-O-Meter you are, for any particular policy or “words and phrases he uses that might refer to a particular, enforceable policy”. 

    Many, myself included, generally conclude that Trump is full of manure, lies and deceit, be that as it may, it does not help us here and now. We wish to get an accurate prediction, or more accurate prediction of what he’s going to do, and what he’s going to say he’ll do, but probably not. Put a US flag in Mars soil. Dictate matters of science and genetics. Defeat all his perceived enemies. End corruption in congress and senate. With these theologically paralysed grunts, Trump is always saying nothing, talking loud, saying nothing. But we can’t look away, it’s his followers, devotees and supporters we must be vigilant of, and practice a mutual tolerance of. No violence. No hate. Say no to racism. Union strong. See something, say something.

    Having just watched the swearing in of the 47th President, Donald J. Trump, I’ve got to take a breath and contemplate what to say. Firstly, that Martin Luther King was invoked several times struck me. January 20th is MLK day, which will for me, forever overshadow the day Trump got reelected. Read MLK, watch a documentary about his life, focus on that.

    Skipping all the ad hominem about tans, let me first point out that if god is dead then Trump and the USA are powerless against compute, or, the superintelligence that will obsolete whatever is left of a human being still clinging to their falsehoods. 

    The probably dead god was mentioned dozens of times, when meaninglessness was required and an already unsurprising sentence, was in need of further obfuscation and confusion. As with talking about the American dream as if it’s some kind of material thing to grow in proportion. 

    It should come of no surprise, especially after hearing the pastor before him, that Trump gets his signature word salad from his monotheistic roots in evangelical christianity. His hallucinations and simply, illogical sentences, are always caged by the trappings of religious absolutism. I’m gonna’ do this, and we’re gonna ‘ do that, adds to the confusion, the listener or transcript reader left wondering what he really means, and what is he really gonna’ do. 

    If you were to ask how, or for a probabilistic based plan not based on absolute certainty, you’d be shut down. This dictatorial mode of leadership has up and downsides. Yes stuff gets done, but often resentfully, which sews seeds of revolt, sabotage and infighting conspiracy and breakdown of trust. This spiral into paranoia and secrecy prevents the actual implication of their plans, or full implementation of them, like a fascist bureaucracy clogging up the wheels of far right fascism. That’s my hope, or one of them.

    At one point when Trump was in full swing on his anti immigrant, anti trans rant, I thought to myself: stand up, say something, if you see something say something. Somebody “boo” or at least walk out in protest, throw a shoe, if only at Bush! That everybody stayed until the end without any protest, and clapped his disgusting theocratic fascist fantasy, makes me sad, but highlights the difference between self-owning activist poets and congress critters, M.P’s worldwide. They don’t speak for us. Our artists, musicians, scientists and great speakers…speak for us. From now on you can keep you politicians and your god. I’ll be over here with the godless trans luxury space communists. 

    Trump is what a consumer culture of paranoid people demand, a big daddy to protect and fight and hurl abuse for them, so they don’t have to, they can just go about life without confronting racism, sexism, bullying, violent abuse, poverty, war, famine. Only with that protection of the filthy state, can the merry wheels go around and around for the privileged few who can’t bare to know how they’re life style and tacit complicity in they’re representative governments dealings at home and abroad. 

    Populism convinces poor people to hate the poor and love the rich, using immigration and wedge issues like gender rights and horrors such as child sex abuse and grooming gangs to lure those totally fed up with the other political forces, into their labyrinth of hate, blame and knuckle dragging nativism. Trump is the fat boss of the new global populist right theocracy, coming to a town near you. Try to forget how they look and how they provoke with predictable nativist tropes, yet, address the lies and over amplified statistics, and cherry picked doom scroller memes they peddle. Ignore Reform and Conservative right wing populism in the UK at your peril, stay silent and eventually they’ll come for you, as the paranoid proverb goes. 

    So what is to be done? Well, I ain’t no political scientist, but the next four years of Trump, that’s if he don’t get shot or have a massive heart attack or brain bleed injury of some kind, or get cancer, or killed by a new virus, will be these same few confused ideas in a slightly different order. Trump is rudderless, with a dead God as his guide he’s walking off a cliff edge, good, yet I wish his followers the strength to question their allegiance to a divinely guided tsar, and not follow him off that cliff into the abyss of hate, narcissism, lies and theocratic dogma. 

    I wish you resilience, keen focus, strength and stamina as we continue to defend the art, reality, truth and a well thought out joke, from the liars, hacks and deluded billionaires who claim to control us, yet, in actuallity are nothing but wounded powerless grifters, sucked off into the messiah matrix of the male dominatrix. 

    Good luck with constructing your own Bluff-O-Meter, and remember to not only take your own bluff readings, but try to consider those of others too, those others who may have a better informed view. We must all learn from this, adapt, evolve, get smarter, help others, play nice.

    All Love

    –S

    If you’re of a religious belief system, please accept my apologies in advance for my criticism here. I’m very interested in mysticism as its history is more allied with science than religion. Also, I’d distinguish the absolute belief in an almighty God creator, from other kinds of religious and mystical belief systems and meta-belief systems that include entities, goddesses. Trump’s theocracy is the worst kind of Christianity, politically empowered and hard right conservative absolutism. Non Servium. 

  • Prick Pop 18 In Verse

    And 2 hours before the stage collapsed, I had a mad dream:

    Small J Twotson and Kunst Wankula and
    Sarghole of Dickwadd, and Loo Yapooloose prepared
    to take the Daily Foil stage.
    It’s prick pop 18.

    A sea of thousands of white faces look out
    the occasional dot of brown and black
    most dressed in white
    teeth gleaming white hands in the air
    Waving teutonic symbols on flags

    Wankula slithers up onto the stage first
    his whisky cheeks bulging with vomit readymade
    backstage by Loo.

    Next the figure of Dickwad dressed
    as the flabby Sultan of smug village with tiny printed
    versions of himself badly ironed onto orange shorts

    Small Joe was dressed up in full
    military uniform, with a few stains around the crotch,
    he launched Alex Jonesin’ brand tactical wet wipes
    as if he psychically knew what was about to happen next
    (stole from John Oliver)

    Loo stepped up from behind his hair like a donut
    iced with Vanilla drizzle, his shades jiggled around
    and in that moment he suddenly resembled
    every male teenage idol in western history,
    Backstreetzone Biebergun Kelly.

    Half the crowd jizzed in synch
    catching it with the handy Al Jones wipe.
    And the band were yet to start.

    The first number was titled “Femministasi”
    an all white male chorus of victim-techno
    Gammonati music, like
    “The PC left stole my kitten called Klaus”
    “Where can I stroke my Unicorn now?”

    Sarghole got down on his knees near the end of
    the tune and drank from Wankula’s
    water bottle singing “I suck”

    Other notable musical abortions include
    “Brokebuck Brexit Stomp”
    “She’s a man now”
    and “Immigrant Song” a new one
    crafted by the four snakes while having tea with
    Tubby Rubberneck.

    Twotson gave out 14 kilos
    of cafeine substitute (called Jonesin) to the crowd
    they chomped it up like good little consumers.

    Next a special guest appearance
    J Peedhimself, doing an impression of Christopher
    Lee while singing on the Prick Pop anthem
    “Stairway To Oblivious”, a song about a bridge made of kippers
    that enables a torrent of frog memes to slop
    into the democratic sewer system
    and infect humanity with a case of the stupids.

    High on Jonesin, the crowd went rampant for Peed
    and some pee’d their own pants laughing.
    The brave scrambled over the fences to grab
    more combat wet wipes and jizz another one off
    before the song was over.

    But it wasn’t over, for an encore,
    out came the oldright all stirs
    Morrissey came out, dancing, mumbling,
    and fell down on Wankula injuring his forehead.

    Rungo Stars came walking out, like an aged hobbit
    his drum sticks were red and white.
    Ned Poogent scuttled onto stage like a steroid accident,
    his anger and smugness only matched
    by Ulk Hogoon and Vanilla Ice.

    Finally Sid Cock flies down from the roof dressed as missile
    he raps on “All you need is hate”
    the crowd echo their lines back at them:
    “Start hating, start fighting, we need
    freedom for our greed, for our greeeeeed’.

    The band slowly fizzle out like a booze band
    of washed up losers and youtube
    celebrity shitbags.

    The crowd vomiting and jizzing on each other
    trading used wet wipes as souvenirs
    the Jonesin formula turned out to be cut
    with Pony prostate pills.

    The happy fascists stop recording each other
    and go home to watch Top Gear

    (The line up for Prick Pop 18 includes the band
    Clarkson Darkson, Infidel Shannon, Pantsterra
    Misses PC, and The Ghost Of Jerry Fallwell.
    Speakers include: Stevil Bannon, Nigel Mirrage
    Bill The Swill Etherag, and Marine La Poison Pen.)

    Get your tickets now, while your bile is still bubbling.
    25% Off for Prick Pop Klan members.