Changing terms and names is nothing new. Since I was a fresh faced happy young boy with a dangerously chiselled chin, plenty terms have been scrapped and replaced with something new and allegedly less offensive. Midget was changed to dwarf, because apparently small people would be less offended when referred to as a mythical creature from fantasy fiction. Before my time, people were referred to as coloured, which was then changed and updated so many times that it practically went full circle and now using the term “people of colour” is just fine. Once upon a time the word imbecile was just dandy, before being overly used as an insult, so they replaced it with retard, a much kinder label to use for the mentally insufficient. Now calling someone a retard is considered far worse than calling them an imbecile. The apparent hateful power of the label retard somehow went on to completely outshine the hateful power of the term imbecile, despite being created to do good in the world. That is quite retarded.
We’re use to new terms and names. I sometimes think it’s done to confuse the older generation, who have had to update their vocabulary every 5 to 10 years in order to avoid being arrested for accidental hate crimes. I get it, for the most part, things change, names change. Prince became a symbol that you couldn’t find on any computer keyboard, and therefore missed out on the email marketing revolution. Cat Stevens became Yusuf Islam so he could get banned from America and fulfill his dream of never having to endure the slop-obsessed nation of diabetes. Facebook has become Meta, because the name Facebook is synonymous with eye cancer and the smell of abandoned sewage works. They changed Burma to Myanmar because they thought it might avert any coups orchestrated by the CIA because most Americans are geographically limited even on their best days.
Despite all these terms and names being changed, the meanings have remained the same. Snickers still has the same ingredients as Marathon. Ho Chi Minh city still stinks as much as Saigon (it really does smell there). When they changed Opal Fruits to Starburst, they didn’t change it from a chewy fruit sweet to lumps of hard meat lozenges, it was still the same thing. They also didn’t change the entire concept of the sweets to lumps of hard meat lozenges and tell you that it had always been that way, even though you blatantly knew this wasn’t the case. They also didn’t change them to hard lumps of meat lozenges and lie about the definition and get backed up by useless useful idiots who had developed some kind of mass amnesia brought on by watching too much television. The folks at Opal Fruits wouldn’t have the balls to do such a thing, nor the levels of insanity to think they could pull it off. The legacy media, aka the fear machine, and their man-sauna buddies the government have done such a thing, and more than once during a time where confidence in them is at its lowest and suspicion of them is at an all time high. They are truly insane and as equally disrespectful.
There was a time when the word vaccine meant a substance injected into your body that would prevent you from contracting a deadly virus or disease. When the masters of mis-information first announced the covid vaccine, they insisted it would stop the virus dead in it’s tracks and effectively end the pandemic. Despite throughout our entire medical scientific history no coronavirus vaccine had ever been successfully developed, suddenly operation warp-speed had done so and in impressive, or frightening if your prefer, time. They said get this new technology injected into you and you can spend the rest of your days covid-fear-free. Then it turned out the vaccine didn’t actually do that, it actually just helped you avoid serious illness and reduce transmission. Then it stopped being so affective at reducing transmission and it’s effectiveness wained over time, so you needed countless boosters every 3 to 4 days, and so on and so on. Instead of saying, “hey, we thought it would work like that, but turns out it doesn’t, soz!”, they just decided to change the definition of what a vaccine is and does and pretend they didn’t make any of the audacious claims they definitely made.
Roll on to this year, and it’s quite clear we are in a recession, and a very big one which has yet to hit it’s destructive peak. The American establishment decided that they didn’t want to be in a recession, because then they’d have to admit that constant lockdowns and printing more money than has ever been printed in history was a bit of a boo-boo. Luckily for them, they’d already pulled off this kind of NewSpeak tactic and they were good to do it again. Instead of a recession being defined as two quarters of negative economic growth, which currently is still the definition in the UK, they changed it to something else: a significant decline in economic activity that is spread across the economy and that lasts more than a few months. Apparently this hasn’t happened yet, and despite everything falling apart and the price of Fredo now being £63.28, the economy is doing just fine. Petrol, or as the Americans call it “water”, is only expensive as hell because big bad Vlad invaded Ukraine for a giggle. Food shortages are due to racists burying food for similar giggles. And inflation is due to monkeypox.
That redefine what something means, tell it to our faces, and seem to get away with it. Manipulation of stats and data is nothing new in the political game. If gun crime deaths are up, you simply ask hospitals to change the cause of death from gunshot victims from “death by gunshot wound to the head” to “death by brain trauma”, and so on and so on. The question is: how the shit do they get away with doing this in the twenty first century? We have so much access to information, not just current, but archived information. You can change a definition on Wikipedia, but you can also got to the archived version and see what things use to mean. You can watch any video of any politician or media hack spewing their lies into the camera and fact-check them to hell and back. And yet nothing happens. Why?
The fact-checkers play a role for sure, never has a term needed an actual redefinition as much as fact-checker. Actually I’m wrong, we don’t change the definition, we change the term: bozo-propagandist-loons. What we must accept is that it those who prop up these bozos and their lies and their misinformation and great disdain for us all are Joe and Jane Average. Joe and Jane, as much as we enjoy exchanges with them in the queue at Tesco, are always messing things up for everyone else.
The establishment of media and government openly despise most people, and that includes Joe and Jane Average. However, Joe and Jane Average don’t seem to even notice. At a time when more and more people seem to be waking up, Joe and Jane are sliding further into the deepest of sleeps. The establishment royally take the piss with their oppressive rules, ridiculous lies, and devastating decisions, and Joe and Jane Average decide the best thing to do is give them support. They are like the kid who hung around to get free cigarettes before school, taking the abuse from the elders and laughing along like a brain dead embarrassment. They didn’t seem to think having a Benson put out on their forehead in exchange for the last drags on a Sovereign was bad, after all, these guys were their mates!
Joe and Jane Average are also like those trapped in an abusive relationship, constantly being beaten with furniture and kitchen appliances day in-day out. You tell them that their partner is no good and they can do better with a partner who doesn’t smash a kettle into their chin because they forgot to cut their partners toast into soldiers, but they just say “it’s not what you think…” Joe and Jane Average will take whatever abuse that comes at them. They’ll also lap up every lie thrown into their brains. If you’re a serial cheater who has no concept of self-control and would happily bang your partners best friend in the closet whilst your partner cooks you both a stew, then you should get with a Joe or a Jane. You’ll get caught banging the gas engineer for sure, but then you can just say “I actually didn’t bang them… oh, and also, the definition of cheating is actually having sex with two other people at the same time. The gas engineer was, as you could see when I pulled my ting out of their dinner dispenser, just one person.”
It’s a tragedy.
Unfortunately, Joe and Jane Average are too busy to think about things such as human rights, the economy, and the abusive powers of the state. They’ve got Love Island and Strictly Come Dancing to worry about. They need to occupy their thoughts with what Prince Harry thinks about poverty. They need to be thinking about a new Air Fryer and the novelty experience it brings them for at least 3 days. Joe and Jane can’t be out in these streets thinking for themselves, they need to regurgitate talking points and hot takes that will make them seem like they are sentient beings. They can’t be spending valuable Candy Crush time on working out why the government imprisoned them and called them pieces of excrement when they went to visit their dying nan.
If they are British it’s even worse. The British love to complain, it’s our number one pass time. It’s good that a gallon of petrol costs the same as a weeks holiday in a 4 star Marbella resort, because they get to complain about it everyday to everybody, who in turn can complain back at them. They can also post memes on Facebook that cause mild chortles amongst their friends. That really does create a wonderful millisecond of joy. They also need to taking photographs of everything they see, which is mostly themselves in the mirror or their phones viewfinder. They’re bloody busy don’t you know.
I understand why Pol Pot killed so many people. He just said “these bozos can’t be changed to think right, and I ain’t got the time, let’s just kill ‘em all.” Because Joe and Jane are really holding up progress and have no interest in going to war. They’ve been pushed so much, and yet they still can’t be bothered. In the end, whose side are they going to be on?
Unlike Pol Pot, the government and media establishment, I don’t have such high levels of disdain for Joe and Jane Average, only disdain for them. Joe and Jane just need more severe levels of suffering to unwashed that brain of theirs. Problem with that is, we have to suffer even more too, and we’ve already had enough.
Having a strong long term memory is a gift and a curse, but more of a beneficial gift if we’re looking at it from a glass half full perspective. Anyone that knows me well will vouch for that, and those who don’t vouch have suffer from having terrible memories, and I’m sorry for your loss. On many occasions I have brought something up in conversation and a friend or relative will say “oh yeah, I remember that now, how did you remember that?” Yes I am blessed, and I also bless, so let me bless you all with my fabulous memory.
Since coming back to the UK for a longer visit than expected, I have noticed many changes, and most of them disgust me. They disgust me so much that I begin show signs of giving a shit, and this troubles me. I have always prided myself on how little shits I give, even my teachers remarked on that, though it wasn’t meant as a compliment, I took it as one (the glass has always been half full for me). I shouldn’t give a shit, as that’s why I left the country in the first place. The UK is overpriced, but if the price was worth paying I might stay, it’s all the other bullshit as well that confirmed my decision. I could write an epic novel on how dud my homeland has become, so I will spare you all the talking points and just point out a recent highlight.
I, like many of you, remember the start of the pandemic, but unlike most of you, I remember it very well, because I am cursed with memory. I remember clearly the videos coming from China, how horrendous, stark and terrifying they were. I also remember people’s reactions. I also remember people in my country and our kindred spirits in other western nations first reacted. It’s just influenza they said and it’s a panic over nothing. Having been consistently in contact with Chinese citizens and living in south east Asia, I wasn’t so sure about that claim. I was teaching young kids who were holed up in bunkers. I didn’t believe the Chinese were the kind to over-react to a pandemic, because after-all they are very use to this kind of thing. Roll on years later, and those very same who said don’t panic, now insist on panic, even though, with hindsight on their side, they were somewhat correct in the first place. It was me who was incorrect, but unlike them, my ego is in check and don’t have a problem with being wrong. Admitting you’re wrong will save your life. I may have been completely surrounded by East Asian culture and the nature of saving face, but I don’t need to assimilate that hard my friends.
Coming back to those terrifying videos from China, this reminds me of why I was correct about how bad it was going to get due to the public begging the government to lock them in their homes. I recall a video circulating on Twitter of a woman being pulled from a car in a city in China somewhere by Police. Her crime was to have covid. This was awful, but also something to be expected from the Chinese regime. This would never happen in my country I thought, until I saw how people were reacting to it. Amongst the correct reaction of horror, I noticed some startling praise coming from westerners. There were comments like “this is how we should deal with this.” And I understood that reaction, because these viruses are always scary, mainly due to the media’s lust for fear, and if you know someone has had it who was near you at any point, it fills you irrational paranoia. You want every diseased fuck locked up away from you, because you don’t want to be in hospital dying from bat-aids. But this is wrong, and you know it is, or you at least knew it was. From these reactions I could see something new was coming, a new future that was ripped from the pages of all my favourite dystopian fiction writers, and I wasn’t too enthused by it. In order to feel safe, people would throw everyone else under the bus and demand that the government keep them safe.
That’s exactly what happened and by March I witnessed the outcries from the British public to shut everything down. Boris Johnson said we should practice heard immunity, but the public, spurred on by the media’s love for fear induced drama, called him a murderer and person who just cared about money rather than people. The same people who now moan about the government shutting things down and imposing restrictions at the drop of a hat over and over again, are the very same who demanded this be done. Because what? China did it? You absolute clowns. I said this would end badly, and it has. Not only are these the same people who demanded lockdowns, they are also the same people who constantly yap about how the conservative government are liars and you can’t trust a single thing they say. And yet, as soon as they said jump, they ran over, cupped their balls, and asked how long they wanted to be sucked for before asking “how high.” I pity you.
The big reason I prefer to live in developing nations rather than my comfortable existence in the UK is that they understand something about personal responsibility. They understand this not because they are superior, but because they have no choice. That’s the gift of being proper poor. We’re not talking benefit hand out poor here, we’re talking being so poor that you will have to bring up your kids on the streets poor. The nanny state, as they like to call it, has reduced my country to a snivvelling entitled little shit pony that blames everyone else for their own problems and then demands someone else do something about every little thing that goes wrong in their life. How they disgust me.
I am tired of hearing about restrictions and people harping on about how we need these restrictions because people don’t take things seriously. Well, I have some news for you sweetie-plums, you can’t expect people to be responsible when you have carefully crafted a culture that rejects personal responsibility. My once impressive nation has been socially engineered into becoming a nation of screeching babies, and that includes those who call for restrictions and criticize the actions of others. I don’t know when they decided that they were somehow superior. I laugh at them.
When I arrived I was astounded by being constantly told to get vaccinated right away by people who had no issue with coughing un-masked into my air space. I was gob-smacked by being told to get vaccinated for my and everyone else’s own good by cocaine snorting half-wits who ate sausage rolls and cereal for breakfast. I was dumb-founded by being told to get vaccinated by people who had to book two seats on an aeroplane to accommodate their lack of discipline and addiction to gluttony. What a load of old shit.
From day one I did what was recommended, so much so I developed a simple habit of coughing into my elbow, as was expected. I then noticed people wondering around, terrified of everyone else, wearing their mask like they had their mother’s tit strapped to their lips. Then they’d remove mummy’s tit and cough into the air and proceed to finger their nose with an unwashed hand that had touched every onion in the supermarket vegetable aisle. These specimens considered me to be a threat to their health. Me? Mr Supplement. Mr two sauna’s a day. Mr swimming. Mr responsible. Please return to your mother’s vagina, you aren’t ready yet.
Now they say not only are the unvaccinated ruining their lives, but the unboosted are too! And they will demand the government do more and force everyone into a jab-camp and not be let out until they are fully marinated. These are the ones who Anne Frank didn’t ask for help. Make no mistake. The demand to be safe will bite them on the arse at some point in the future, and then with their impressive hindsight they will moan and groan about the evil government. It never occurs to these bell-ends that perhaps the government actually do serve the people, and that the people are dictated to by the financial turmoil of corporate media. It doesn’t really matter I suppose, because they can never learn to stand on their own when they have demanded that the government not only be their parents, but also be the decision making part of their own brain.
It’s these people, possibly even you, that put us all in danger. Freedom isn’t about safety, it’s about responsibility. Young, wild and free is a song title, freedom is not devoid of responsibility, and therefore if you choose freedom from responsibility you are merely a child, roaming around picking it’s nose and wiping snot on good people and then cry to the authorities when they punch you. They beg the government to whip their tits out and shower them with comfort milk, and then they turn on the government when they realize the milk is very sour and makes them very sick.
I was always ashamed to be white when I saw bullshit acts of racism. I was always ashamed of being British when I saw lobster-tanned idiots abusing the locals in Benidorm. I was never ashamed to be human until a scientist decided to get weird with a bat in Wuhan. Fuck these people. They can have this country. They allow the state to consume everything they have. They can deal with the consequences further down the line, and the consequences it will have on their children’s children. When they come crying, I will remind them of my superior memory, and tell them to go away. And so should you.
The price of freedom is being responsible. That means if you decide to put you balls in a toaster and electrocute your future children to death, you don’t call the hospital, sue the manufacturer and then beg the government for financial assistance to restore your balls. You just live with your stupidity and remember what not to do next time. Stop sucking on the governments tit, it’s as bad as sucking their dick.
I’ve tried to quantify how I feel and struggled to accumulate the words required to express what exactly is going on. But all I’ve managed to come up with is:
FUCKING WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK FOR FUCK SAKE
These words are not profound nor are they the words of someone who’s considered to be an elite-type intellectual, and that’s ok, because they all prefer us to be fucking stupid.
Who are they? DJ Khalid’s mysterious hater mob that he constantly snap-chatted about? Maybe. I never asked him, and he never returns calls anyway. For the longest time I have tried to work out whether the legacy media influences the government and the security agencies that spy on us through our TV’s or it’s they who influence media. I came to not-so satisfying conclusion that it was both, they feed off each-other.
But right now the legacy media appear to be leading the others with a juicy terrorism carrot. In the space of less than two weeks the new far-right terrorist narrative, now spear-headed by incels (yes, people who can’t get some ass are now considered extremist ideologues), has been blown out the public mindset and replaced with not just one old bogeyman, but three. The holy trinity of neo-con evil that we know as the Taliban, Al Qaeda, and ISIS.
Again, I can’t quite put it into words how ridiculous this is. We’ve been groomed to no longer fear Islamist extremism and fear far-right white-supremecist ghosts instead. They have been carefully pushing this narrative since about 2014, and ramped it between 2016 and 2018, when it replaced all irrational public fears of Islamic terrorism. And despite the news cycles and government agencies putting in some hard work constantly shoving fear-mongering propaganda down out throats for half decade, they decided to do away with it overnight. How many people have been on a terrorist watch list because they post videos online with Pepe the Frog and telling people how red-pilled and based they are? It must be tens if not hundreds of thousands. And now they’re most likely going to disappear and be forgotten about, and the 20 to 30 thousand suspected Jihadis MI5 were banging on about back in 2017 will suddenly reappear like magic, ready to blow up your children at bubblegum pop concert.
Covid-19 has become rather boring and it isn’t as scary as it once was. People are running around town and gobbling genitals like they’re life giving sources of nutrition because the government grounded them for 18 months. They’re not afraid of whatever new variant they decide to talk about this week, they’re bored of it, have heard immunity and unlikely to die. This we know, and this they know, and the legacy media cannot continue with this narrative, one that paid them so handsomely for a year and a half, because nobody is scared. Not even fat people with diabetes. The far right narrative doesn’t work anymore, and in-fact hasn’t worked much at all, because according to the criteria, everyone who voted for Brexit or Trump is considered a potential enemy of state terrorist nutter. That’s half a voting population in both countries, and that half are becoming a lot more savvy about how the debauched media fear machine can’t open their mouths or type on their keyboard without unleashing a diatribe of absolute bullshit.
The fear machine is out of ideas just like Hollywood. Once it could keep a narrative running for a decade and when it turned a little grey and dull, they’d find an even deadlier and scarier foe to throw into the mix to restart the fear fire all over again. They did it with communism and terrorism with ease. When Al Qaeda stopped being sexy, they found ISIS, and ISIS were fucking scary as fuck. It’s similar to big Hollywood blockbusters that clog up your cognition with useless twat gunk, every new installment of a franchise needs a bigger, badder foe with bigger, and more devastating stakes. This is true of the Avengers films, which ramp up the stakes like crazy, from the world being in danger, to all of space and time by the third and fourth piece of plop, I mean film. But Hollywood runs out of ideas, and often they’ll resort to rebooting a franchise as they just don’t have any original ideas and are terrified of failure. This use to involve just making a new film after a short period of time, as if the last film didn’t happen. Now they’ve found a trick where they’ll reboot a franchise almost two days after the last one failed, but repackage it as something progressive by making Spiderman a cross-dressing Ugandan with one hand and down-syndrome.
So, just like Hollywood, the media resorted to nostalgia as a last gasp desperate effort to conjure up paralyzing fear to inject into the masses. Hollywood runs parallel to the fear machine, they often carry out tasks for the machine with their uninspiring plop reels disguised as cinematic art. The Taliban have returned to power some-how rebranded as progressive, because apparently they’ll allow women to open their mouths and scream when they’re gang raping them. Al Qaeda are back, and pretty much the same as they were, a fabrication. And ISIS have come back as reboot, called ISIS K, which doesn’t exactly stir the imagination, but we’re not dealing with talented people here, this is the legacy media fear machine.
As it turns out ISIS have had a presence in Afghanistan for a number of years, I discovered this by searching out a history of articles and TV reports on them that no-one cared about at the time. But who are they really? And why are they now the most deadly organisation, so deadly that they’re discussing teaming up with the Taliban to defeat them! This is what happened during World War 2, when allies teamed up with Stalin’s USSR to defeat Hitler, and I suppose the Taliban haven’t killed as many of it’s people as Stalin has yet so it’s ok.
You might want me to tell you what the hell is really going on, and I’d like to know myself, but then I remember it doesn't matter. You only need to know that you must ignore it at all costs. The terrorism will become real again, and covid-19 will disappear. It’s not like covid-19 will actually just vanish, because terrorism didn’t, it’s just the funny little trick the fear machine like to play on you. If they’re not constantly screaming “be scared, be scared, be fucking scared” at you from their platforms, then the media machine itself ceases to exist, and that’s only good for your mental health and not good for their investors and handlers. Only the fear exists when they want it to exist, everything else might as well not exist because when you don’t get bombarded by their depraved narrative every minute of the day through to eternity you don’t even know about any problems existing.
We must not forget, and the media fear machine suspects we haven’t, that Al Qaeda, the bygone name for terrorist bogeymen, never really existed. It was a loose, and emphasis on the word loose, collective and network of like minded nutters in the middle east and beyond who hate the west and love Allah. The neo-cons dreamed up all of Al Qaeda’s strengths and cunning ways, expertly creating a new fear narrative that would allow them to stomp around the world and drone strike goat herders in the name of valor, justice and for the forces of good. In their minds they’re the Avengers, and whatever horrific crimes they commit against humanity are done so in the name of pure good, combatting the forces of pure evil.
The fact that we know Al Qaeda is as close to a myth as Merlin the wizard should put the current age of paranoia and conspiratorial suspicion in perspective. I cannot blame or cast judgement on anyone who doesn’t actually believe covid-19 is real and it’s all a hoax to control us and inject us with evil nano-bots and 5G aids. Because the people in power, the ones who claim they are doing all these things to keep us safe, are the very same people who launched countless wars and imprisoned countless innocent Muslims in order to keep us safe from a mighty terrorist organization that they fabricated. An organization apparently that has apparently miraculously returned from the grave. How are we supposed to trust anything done by people who clearly hold is in such low regard that they fear monger us into believing in mythical enemies. They treat us like we’re stupid and have nothing but contempt for us, so it really is time you started ignoring everything that they say, that’s the only way you take away the power of fear mongering bullies.
Confusing times are all around us, what was once a very simple concept, like man and woman, has now become so convoluted, polarised, and subjective that it makes more sense to do away with the very idea.
I find it bizarre that a generation of women in the early part of the 20th century would throw themselves under horse drawn carriages and meet their maker in order to give a mediocre weight-lifter the chance to be a king of all women. But apparently, that’s what they did.
The war between so-called SERF’s and TERF’s has become so toxic that expressing opinions can get you sacked, de-platformed and even arrested. It’s a war like that one between the Arabs and Israel in the land of, what’s it called, oh yeah, Israel. It’s just best to not have an opinion and stay well away from this toxic nutter showdown. But I care, I care about the very confused and marginalised Joe and Jane averages out there who just want to know one thing. What are the rules of chivalry now?
I rarely hear of women who transitioned into men and became top athletes in that division. There is no Ronda Ronaldo, Leona Messi or Uma Bolt, does this mean that women are physically different to men, or does it mean that the payoff for women athletes becoming men isn’t as good as it is in reverse. You see how problematic this piece of writing is already?
Let’s stay away from sports, for the most part, but we’ll keep in mind the ancient art of fighting. You see chivalry isn’t just about opening doors, standing when a lady enters a room, or paying for a meal at Toby Carvery, it’s also about putting your hands on people.
It’s been a common rule amongst most societies that banging out a lady isn’t a cool gesture. Women are often referred to as the gentler sex, and that’s based on science of physiology and not just an observation of how they react to Bambi’s mother dying. Ladies are strong, but they’re not punching bags. I mean this is a golden rule, there’s campaigns about it isn’t there? Even some of the nuttiest nutters out there who kidnap and torture their enemies would never even consider saying ‘booh’ to a lady. So when a man transitions into a lady and retains every male physiological advantage bar their man cannon and balls, are they now off limits for a damn good boffing?
If a tower house of trans-lady squares up to you down a badly lit alley, do you just take it like a man and let them beat the crap out of you? Or do you punch back? And when you punch back, are you still supposed to be ostracised by society as a woman beating piece of scum? And it works in reverse too.
You get into an altercation with a trans-man, a man who grew up with a vagina and was once called Cathy. Cathy is now Carl, and Carl is man but with lady strength, and Carl wants a fight cos he drinks pints like a man but handles is like a girl. Carl punches you in the face, so you let Carl have a nice upper cut and Carl goes down like a heavily packed sack of jersey royals. I mean, it’s a dude, so who’d have a problem with you knocking them the fuck out?
In this scenario you’re in a pub, surrounded by tasty looking bald men. One of them says to you ‘you’re scum, you just punched a bird in the face.’ Do you correct him and say how dare he call Carl a lady, they are clearly a man. If the bald man gets angry because you’re excusing yourself for banging out a lady, is he now the piece of shit in this situation? I don’t fucking know, it’s a fucking mess.
Let’s take it back to the ancient and noble art of fighting. It’s fair to say that most average people would struggle with the concept of a man becoming a legal woman so they can fulfil their life long dream of stepping into the ring and knocking women out over and over again. A lot of people find that idea a little fucked up. In their mind this not so different to a grown man becoming a toddler for the rest of their life so they can participate in weird heavy petting at a pre-school. It sends the same signals, the signals that make a man want to burn things to the ground.
Now those who don’t participate in exploring ideas will now want to burn me, well listen up, I’m the messenger, don’t play with me. And what about the ones who don’t even properly transition, if transition at all? Can Marcus just call himself Marilyn and put on a dress and start punching birds to the ground at the Kickass Girl Boss fight club on Kingsland road? Must they be accepted into the sacred safe space of a women’s only social club? Should no dainty 6 stone lady called Louisa have a problem with a 16 stone brick-plop parlour pounding their innocent face in with their wok sized fists? If someone says ‘get off her you prick’, are they now a misogynist because they don’t like a half-arsed lady punching a lady’s face to pieces?
Some of you now might say I’m being hyperbolic, and good for you, I’m sure you’ll have fun at your next fight club meet.
I got mad respect for those who transition, it’s by no means an easy decision and comes with great consequences. Even though it’s becoming a weirder landscape and some transitions don’t follow the correct protocol, the OG trans community are people who’ve literally sacrificed body parts that most of us would murder to keep.
I’m just here asking for a friend or two, the great general public who do everything they’re told to, what’s the deal with banging out a broad these days?
You will have heard about privilege, you’ll have heard about it more than you ever needed to in recent times. You may not understand what it’s all about, and how people can see you living in your overprice shit-den and yell at you about how good you have it.
White privilege, male privilege, straight privilege, oh so many privileged people. If you tick multiple boxes, you may find yourself at the back of the muffin line when the famine hits next spring.
Apparently there are biases too. When your pasty face interviews another pasty face for a job at the failing business you work mildly hard for, you look at that pasty face and think ‘my oh my, look at this pasty face, it’s like my pasty face, we’re so similar, they should get the job regardless of that three year period on their CV where they didn’t do any work. Were they in jail for hideous sex crimes? I don’t care, we share this pasty face.’
This has been, like everything else you can think of, labelled. And this new exciting label is Affinity Bias. It means when we share similarities with a human, we connect, and therefore our judgement is clouded by our affinity to this human. This makes sense, and isn’t so bad, because we all would prefer to work side by side with like minded people. But this is also quite bad, because the bizarre pursuit for aesthetic diversity leads to people just recruiting people who don’t have any diversity of thought from the rest of the staff or team.
So forget affinity bias, it’s time to address the sexy elephant in the pink tutu that sits in the corner of the room. How so many have failed to aknowledge it’s big old swinging trunk I don’t know.
Our culture has become incredibly superficial and blatantly shallow. We were once taught you should judge people, and love people, for what they have on the inside. Not to be confused with the mindset of a lunatic serial killer who wants to see what your intestines look like through an open wound, what we mean is your character, your thoughts, your actions, and personality. Now all we see is aesthetics, and corporations, government bodies and activist groups only care to show you a rainbow of faces, all fronting one unified droning un-inspired voice.
The elephant in the room with the big old trunk is aesthetic bias and privilege.
I’ll address the privilege side first, and there is no better example on earth than everyone’s second favourite princess, Meghan Markle-bones. Markle-bones, or Markle to you regular TV watching folk, is clearly a 9, if not a solid 10. I say clearly a 9 because we’re going on her face, in my scoring system she would need a bouncy wagon at the back, but I have never examined or sought proof of its existence, so we can just ignore it for now.
Markle-bones is hot, she has a face you can have no problem looking at for long periods of time, even when she is banging on about how hard her life is whilst sitting in a mansion with the richest black woman on earth. Markle-bones has so little self-awareness, from what she openly displays anyway, it’s actually delightful. Markle-bones is the classic example of someone who was born into the top-tier of privilege. These people just plop out, light up the room, and by the time they come of age, you can see that this person ain’t gonna have to worry about nothing.
The beautiful people of this world don’t have to work as hard as the rest of us 4’s and 6’s, they can just walk into a room and send a signal to a prospective employers ding-dong that they should give this stunning 10 the job. Markle-bones could strut into a job interview at the Israeli embassy dressed as Goebles shouting death to the tribe of Abraham, and still get called back for a second interview. Hot people do as they like, because we all want to fuck them. Yes, crazy isn’t it? Some would say ’how disgusting’, and yes it is and why haven’t you done something about it yet?
I’ll tell you why, because you still want to fuck beautiful people.
There is no-way in hell that Harry, the new prince of progress, could land Markle-bones if he wasn’t an actual fucking prince. That is clear. But as hot as she is, in order to even get a toe into the realm where princes dwell for a shot at tearing apart one of the world’s most famous families, you need have some kind of status. There’s plenty of 10’s out there who don’t have the drive for sure, but even without much drive, they still have it pretty sweet.
Markle-bones isn’t a great actress, she’s not even a good one, she’s ok-ish. But like many super-hot actresses before her, all that matters is that she remembers at least 40% of her lines, and makes sure she doesn’t accidentally tip acid on her own face. With beauty like that, you only need a couple of opportunities, unlike the rest of life’s wannabes. There will be millions of aspiring actresses out there, and plenty of very competent ones, and enough who can kill it in any role given to them. There’s enough talent to go around, but unfortunately for them, if their boat-race resembles a kilo of smashed spam covered in sand flies, they’ll never win a role when competing with a Markle-bones.
The fact that aesthetic privilege is completely ignored is one of the funniest things on earth. In a culture that screams about privilege at every turn, the one privilege that transcends race, class, sexuality, ethnicity, and even to an extent, age, has been forever ignored. I’m not going to hate on someone for being born a 10, but I will fucking point it out.
How on earth can any regular person sit and listen to a c-list actress harp on about how hard it is for them and how Mr Bumpkins from Shit-Piss Town near Gateshead, who has four kids on heroin and a face that resembles a safety advert photograph spreading awareness of the dangers of kissing angle-grinders, has unlimited amounts of privilege is insane. Why hasn’t Mr Bumpkins thrown his piss weak mug of tea at his stupidly priced television and shouted ‘you’re c-list actress who played a supporting role in a TV show that no-one cares about that became a literal fucking princess! Do you know how difficult it is to become a literal princess!’?
You could hike deep into the dense jungles of the Amazon and find a tribe that hasn’t seen an outsider since wooly mammoths were on the rampage and spot a 10. You know this lady or man has no idea about your business, they don’t even know how to read of write, nor do they even wear clothes. But you’ll still give them a probatory period as CFO of your corporation because you might be able to smash them at the Christmas shin-dig.
Aesthetic bias would be similar to aesthetic privilege, but is different to affinity bias, well, mostly. Sure some beautiful people out there will only want to be surrounded by other beautiful people, and that makes sense. But mostly aesthetic bias is about what your contents of front man or lady panel wants.
You sit there interviewing for a job at your rubbish warehouse where everyday you dream of a better life, a life where you have the balls or lips to finally hang yourself on Monday morning. You have to recruit one new employee because the hard-working and beloved Mr Tippings died during his favourite pub quiz night. You have 4 prospects coming in to perform simple but physically tasking labour in your horror den of a warehouse. 3 strapping men and women come in, they have experience, they are friendly, and display the traits that confirm they are team players. Perfect, but ‘oh how to make a decision?’ You can’t, because you just don’t want to fuck any of them. You even ask about which football team they support. None of them like football, oh fuck.
You consider just picking straws, as the guidance of the universe is your best bet on making the correct decision. But as you try to find some straws, you’re reminded that there is a fourth candidate, and they’re ready to be interviewed. They plod in, the face is acceptable, but the attitude is terrible. They have no experience, they hate being part of a team, and they support Man Utd. Every box says no, no, no, and again, no.
During this whole time you have barely paid attention to the thick sweater they’re wearing. But as you pretend to make notes about them, the clicky part of your biro pen points out a crucial detail you had been blind to all this time. Behind that thick sweater are a set of 10 titties. Not titties as in they have ten of them and are some bizarre experiment that escaped a Gates Foundation facility. No, these titties are 10 out of 10.
Suddenly your brain is producing porno movies for your usually mundane imagination, without going into sordid detail, these titties lead to countless fun scenarios. Now it’s decision time, do you want to spend the next 5 years chatting and working with good members of staff who stimulate your libido about as much as an HR head with a humanities degree? Or do you spend 5 years looking at a pair of titties so great that when God made them he gave himself a week off because as reward for his damn fine work. You choose the titties, because the dreams of titties will replace the dreams of Monday morning suicide. That’s the reality.
The beautiful people of this world do not have the same struggles that we have. They may complain about all the ‘unwanted’ attention they get, but for a person whose face looks like it hit every branch on it’s way down from the top of the ugly tree, that’ some bullshit. Acknowledging how hot you are isn’t exactly a great trait, but ignoring it and demanding everyone else recognises your ‘struggle’ is far worse. You were born with something others don’t have, embrace it, use it, and get on with it, and please pipe down. Some of us have to be funny as hell to get ahead, cos we ain’t got much else going on.
Dr Bozo Writes Yawn-some Hit Piece About Odysee
I’m so, so, so tired. Proper tired and weary. Since I first embarked on making videos for the online video platform that calls itself YouTube, I have witnessed first hand its descent into the realm of ridiculousness. The constant hit pieces and pandering to spineless advertisers has seen it go from a platform for free expression and creativity to a corporate overlord of censorship, devoid of humour and nuance. During these years I have always been on the look out for an alternative platform that isn’t consistently chopping and changing its algorithm to force us into horrific echo-chamber addiction and suppress anything that dares to be challenging or even dares to reject formulaic content repetition in order to please the algorithm and stay “relevant”.
I found Vid.me, a nice little platform that was easy to use and get some juicy views. That platform didn’t last long, sleep well my sweet princess. Then came along Bitchute and Minds, though Minds is a mixture of social media platform and video host, it was fantastic to have some new outlets. I didn’t really care if Bitchute was touted as a free speech alternative, anything that is an alternative to YouTube is something I’m keen on. It didn’t take long for the hit pieces to roll out against these platforms, the same type of hit pieces rolled out against YouTube, Twitter, and Facebook. But unlike those platforms, Minds and Bitchute did not cower to their pressure, mainly because of their business models being quite different.
Now in 2021 as more and more people have been conditioned to the second age of irrational fear, the first being Islamic extremism (now replaced with far right extremism), they have become an army of useful-useless idiots touting the same stupid talking points that their masters command them to. They see anyone who uses an alternative, whether it’s Gab, Parler, Minds, or Bitchute, as part of a network of extremists who are hell bent on bringing Hitler back from the dead so he can breath fire on all minorities.
A new platform has emerged that I am on and very keen on, and that platform is Odysee. Odysee is the web version of Lbry, a blockchain protocol that allows you to share and monetise content with freedom. Lbry is part of the beautiful decentralised future, and I strongly urge you to support it (for all our sakes!). Odysee is barely a quarter of a year in age and already some government stooge has decided to trail-blaze the war against it with a most un-original and yawn-some hit piece. Odysee doesn’t really tout itself as a free speech option or even a conservative option like some platforms do. Odysee is a platform built by people who believe in the freedom of the blockchain that cuts out the money swallowing middle men who have been a pain in my harris since I became a semi-adult. I couldn’t give two shits if Odysee was a platform that censored the crap out of my content, it’s an alternative, and fortunately an alternative that allows people the freedom to make their decisions, something the government does not like and something they have forced us to be terrified of.
By chance I discovered this hit piece on gnet-research.org, the Global Network on Extremism & Technology. This network claims it’s an independent but industry-funded initiative for better understanding, and counteracting, terrorist use of technology. A quick browse through their website and you will see there is some stuff about Isis, the out of date terrorist model, and the far right, the new sexy but not scary model. Bear in mind that these types of organisations have all veered towards the zeitgeist of far right terrorism, something so vague and un-quantifiable you’re better off trying to prove the existence of woodland sprites. Al Qaeda was an impressive concoction of a small number of facts and a huge dollop of nonsense, but the new far right bogeyman makes Al Qaida look almost factual. They say they are independent, which I assume they are not referring to their thoughts, which I can believe, but what on earth is industry backed? What is their industry, what does that even mean? The industry of concocted fear? CIA? MI5? Who cares, they’re all doing their dirty work now, paid or unpaid.
One of the contributors, a supposed Dr named Eviane Leidig, wrote a hit piece on Odysee in mid February titled “Odysee: The New YouTube For The Far Right”. Upon reading this headline my blood boils every time. Because to be quite frank, go fuck yourself Eviane. Every new platform that’s an alternative to the establishment online media monopoly is a far right alternative. Can we not have a new and exciting alternative without you un-informed douche-wads peddling your hate? It’s always bizarre to me that these hit piece writers, whether journalists or think-tank employed failures, constantly call out hate by being top-tier haters. All due respect Eviane, take your hate somewhere else, it has no place here. So what does she have to say? Do we care? We shouldn’t, but for the sake of fun and mockery, something modern day journalists, activists and fact-checkers cannot even process due to their AI programming being extremely crude.
This colossal Bozo who calls herself a Dr, doesn’t say too much apart from laying out what Odysee is and how it works. She even states it’s not “inherently” a platform for far-right or extremist content creators. But she still can’t help herself and say that it’s an attractive option for YouTuber’s who have been banned by YouTube. To this I say so what? If she had even bothered to research and understand how bad YouTube has become for some content creators she would know to shut her mouth. How tiresome it is to hear the constant dribbling opinions of the un-informed blabbing on about subjects they have no experience of. You can get booted off YouTube for some very bizarre reasons, because like most of these platforms, their T.O.S. Only applies to those they are cool with, hence why Belle Delphine got the boot for having a sexy music video that wasn’t as sexy as videos created by artists signed to major labels.
Dr Bozo continues to name drop three people who are on Odysee who part of the imaginary “far-right spectrum”. Jordan Peterson, Elijah Schaffer, and Tarl Warwick (Styxhexenhammer666). Really? These are terrifying extremist examples you have on hand? I find it funny how Jordan Peterson is problematic because he wants young men to become responsible adults, how is that a fucking far-right problem? Oh, government control I suppose. They really don’t like you flying the coup, the government are very prone to severed cases of empty nest syndrome. Just put those three names side by side with three big names from the age of Islamic extremist fear mongering: Abu Hamza, Anjem Choudary, and Jihadi John. Just stop it now already.
What Dr Bozo really has a problem with is quite clear, and whether that’s her own thoughts or not does not matter because she has not done any proper research ever in her life (this is clear because she ignores the scope of popular channels on Odysee and their diversity of content), is that she doesn’t like Odysee because it’s free from government regulation. That’s a good thing, ask the thousands of Muslims who needlessly persecuted for two decades how they feel about government regulation and surveillance and they’ll tell you twice. Dr Bozo says Odysees guidelines against incitement of violence or hatred against a particular group is not allowed is a problem because she is someone who doesn’t like the fact that humans can self regulate without interference from oppressive governments and their legion of bullshit institutions. I don’t recall there being a problem with the incitement of hatred against the working classes, Brexit supporters, and MAGA memers when they said we should all punch a nazi.
She says there’s danger of extremist content and propaganda being spread, and not the extremist propaganda enforced upon us by governments and security services. But she also has a book coming out, a book that I am sure will be very well researched and not a piece of propaganda to encourage more government powers and intrusions on our privacy from the CIA and MI5 and 6. Apparently her book, or overpriced chip shop wrapping if you prefer, is about alt-right influencers. Brilliant, I’m sure that’s really nuanced.
Dr Bozo would have a big problem with this very piece of writing, she’d say it’s an attack on her character and that I don’t know anything about her work and haven’t done the research. Too right lady, this is a hit piece, make no mistake, but I don’t hide behind the bullshit crusade against hate to enforce oppressive laws on decent human beings when I write my hit pieces. I just want a better version of what we have, the internet dream has been corroded by people just like Dr Bozo and she, like all the others, parade around telling us they are the good guys. They are not and have never been. Her hatred is on display, and my hatred for this tiresome nonsense is too, but I swear and make jokes so therefore I’m probably a bad person. Like I give a fuck Bozo. She’d have peoples books burned, I’d have her book sneezed on replaced back in the bargain bin.
These people are so boring and predictable now, when will they just go away and do something worthwhile like collect the fucking bins (all love and respect to bin gents and ladies, go get that pay rise) because your books were printed to line them.
Police Propaganda Pulls Heart-strings For Harpers Law
In the wake of another protest turning into a somewhat “spirited” affair, I have found myself exposed to more people helping the machine spread its tasteless propaganda over the Joe and Jane Average social media landscape that we know as Facebook. I understand that my home country has been hit with a new law about peaceful protests, I haven’t deep dived into this subject because I have never had any interest in protest since the biggest one in my memory - against the invasion of Iraq - did fuck all. I have seen mutterings about those who say it’s a violation of the rights we have in a liberal democracy, perpetuated by those who have no idea that they don’t have any proper rights and that democracy is the biggest scam of our lifetime. Then you have the useless useful idiots who will tell you that the bill is good and gives Police better powers to stop the idiots (I know, idiots calling people idiots is totes-hilair) from ruining everything for the rest of them. That thing that is being ruined is their unconditional love affair with being enslaved, they love slavery so much that they demand you get booted in the head by Officer Over-Zealous for daring to challenge its greatness.
It doesn’t matter who is for or against this bill or for or against the Police, most of them are just cogs in a machine and their only purpose is to perpetuate the narrative chosen for them. All roads lead to Rome, and in Rome you do as your bloody told. So I don’t care about this bill, they pick and choose which protests they agree with and let happen anyway, no law is going to tear down the blatant one rule for us and one rule for them standard. It is of-course highly amusing that a protest against a bill that wants to stop peaceful protests from turning violent would turn very violent. But we’re not dealing with rational and free-thinking people anymore, we’re in the midst of a phenomenal global mental health crisis, one that is encouraged by cowards and grifters.
I’m not wading into this shit show, that would be foolish because it will not solve any problems. This is a good opportunity to shed light on how wonderful and sophisticated Western propaganda is. We, as liberal and super chill western folk, believe that propaganda is the reserve for exotic nutter countries like North Korea or Eritrea. Nations that get bombarded with lunacy about how their leaders are able to jump over mountains with a single bound, or wrestle a mountain lion with one arm tied under their gooch. The reason this looks like propaganda and ours looks like news, love songs, comedy panel shows and action movies is because ours is so superior that you don’t even notice, you need a well trained eye and ear for this mastery in brain twisting.
Now some goon will shout “this is blatant supremacy talk from a position of privilege” and that would be the expected reaction from someone whose brain has been completely frazzled by sophisticated western propaganda. We don’t have or need tannoys blasting talk of how great teh government is doing whilst we’re surrounded by the very clear counter evidence of children without limbs crawling in gutters of toxic waste, we just have stuff like “stay home, save lives, protect the NHS”. That one is beautifully snappy and easy to remember, perfect for our modern conditioning, a conditioning that has gifted us the 8 second attention span average.
The piece of propaganda I was assaulted with on Facebook was just horrid. It’s the worse kind you can get, tasteless and manipulative that can easily trigger strong emotional responses. It’s the kind of filth that if you question its blatant evil it is you that is labelled evil. It’s perfect.
This a post by One Police UK, a community page set to show support for the British Police. It says it’s not a real poilice service and has no links to any police service. It doesn’t really matter, in a world where the propaganda is so sophisticated and ingrained, you end up being a propaganda agent without even getting paid for the privilege. That’s a great system, one that Putin must be so envious of (in your face tiny-eyes). What this post does is deplorable and yet so applaudable for its majestic splendour. It was put out just as the dust is settling around the “spirited” protest in Bristol. I use the term “spirited” because that is what you should says about a protest that is violent, but if it’s one you are ok with, otherwise you call it a thug-riot.
The post details comments made by a lady named Lissie Harper, who was married to PC Andrew Harper who was tragically killed by a three individuals in 2019. Harper had been caught up on a rope used by trio to tow a stolen quad bike behind their car. He was dragged for about a mile. The three offenders were charged with manslaughter, with the named leader of the group three, Henry Long, being sentenced to 16 years in jail. Now 16 years is a lot for manslaughter, but this is described as an injustice and he should be serving longer. Why? Because this propaganda piece is supporting Harper Law, which a troublesome yet predictable reaction to such incidents, and you are going to support it because Lissie Harper is telling a tear-jerking story. You see, March 22nd would have been PC Harpers birthday, and his widow is detailing about what they would have been doing to celebrate. This stirs up so much emotion about loss and the pain that drags along behind you. She says she would have spoiled him rotten on this day, but instead she must spend a “solemn day with my family” and trying to hold it together. How we weep when we read this, because we are not bloody monsters, though I will be labelled a monster for calling this out. Lissie Harpers pain is real, but using pain to justify this law, just wait, is not going to fly.
The post goes on and one about her pain, then it tells you about how the trio of lads who were responsible were given substandard sentences. These sentences inspired Lissie to campaign for Harpers law. And this law is even more brilliant, because the Police are here on this earth to protect us and those who harm those who protect us need extra protection. But of-course, all men are equal, but some our more equal than others. The role of the Police is to uphold the law, whatever that law may be, to pursue and bring justice to those who break the law and to keep the Queen’s peace and protect property. Remember that it’s only the law that determines what is wrong in their eyes, not morals, not values, not injustice. To believe in the fantasy that the Police are here to protect us is a naive thing to do, they are here to keep the peace, that’s about it. Giving the Police protected status is just insanity, but it’s insanity that most of Joe and Jane average, including the edge lords who don’t realise they are Joe and Jane Average’s, love to support and re-enforce.
Harper’s law means that if any person is found guilty of killing someone who works in emergency services, such as Police officers, firefighters, nurses, doctors, paramedics or prison officers, as direct result of a crime they have committed, they will be jailed for life. They say this will be a strong deterrent and appropriate punishment for such crimes. I don’t need to go into great detail about why this is a bad idea, you should be able to figure that out for yourself, and if you can’t, then what you are here for?
Murder is bad, manslaughter is different, and all human’s are supposedly equal. Giving preference to individuals who are already in positions of power is nightmare land business. Any one of those professionals can make one decision, whether good, bad, or incompetent, that can change our entire lives for the bad. To elevate their status in society even further with a law that states their lives are worth more than yours is not something I will ever stand behind, and I don’t care for how many heart strings you pull, wrong is wrong.
What happened to PC Harper was wrong, a Police officers death carrying more jail time is wrong. That’s not an equal playing field, that lovely myth they convinced you exists. The Police have enough powers in life, we shouldn’t be giving them more powers in death. This piece of goes on to lay out the law and how it should be supported to “protect” those who, and this is what they must reckon, give more to society. It ends with “I am reminded constantly of the dangers faced in this world. From people of all kinds. This only goes to cement my perseverance and dedication to protecting the heroic, selfless and good people who only want to keep our country sae… this is all for them.” That’s very moving, but it’s the same as when my father died and I asked the flight attendant to massage my feet in her underwear because “my dad just died though.”
Calling this out does me no favours, Lissie Harpers pain is real, I can only look like an arsehole now. But this manipulation of emotions to pass horrendous laws is abhorrent and their tactics are tasteless. My values and moral compass are doing just fine, and therefore I have no issue being labelled a scumbag by people who are scumbags or manipulated by scumbags. But this is very sweet propaganda all the same, you don’t have my support or love, but you do have some admiration for your craft.
Happiness In Slavery
The American slaves, which some of you might find is the only definition of a slave talked about in modern times, had a tough existence, though apparently the free Irish had it worse (sorry about that). Your average slave in the American south was provided with menial amount of essentials. Many slaves lived in small stick houses with earthy floors, given fatty meats and corn bread to give them that much needed energy to work the land. They had water, they had rags to wear, and some had plots of land to grow their own food and fish.
The majority of slaves in the American South were only ever given the minimum, they were treated like some thoroughbred animal that rich people own. They were treated more like a fighting dog you’d find chained up some hell pit estate in Sheffield. But to a certain degree, the slaves didn’t have to concern themselves with too much responsibility. Their very purpose in life was created for them, and they had no say in whether they were sold, beaten, or wanted more things or less abuse. They just existed.
There were lots of slaves in the south, and very few slave owners. Slaves were the possessions of the rich landowners, and in some cities like Charleston in North Carolina, both slave and free blacks greatly outnumbered the whites. Following the emancipation, some four plus million black men, women, and children were now free. Free from abuse, free to be educated, free to choose what the wanted to eat and where they wanted to eat. But many realised there were limits and much vulnerability when it came to freedom. Some were fine to live on just bread and water as long as they were free, but there was a hard time of adjustment to come.
A historian named Jim Downs (I don’t know if he’s an ok guy, but he wrote a book) wrote a book called “Sick From Freedom”. He detailed the truth of emancipation: many black Americans died from disease and starvation. He estimates that a quarter of the freed slaves, about 1 million people, either died or suffered greatly from illness between 1862 and 1870. The rates of death were so severe that some believed all black Americans would just die out. Downs commented that emancipation was more complex and nuanced than we view it to be. Freedom comes at a cost.
You, more likely than not, find yourself locked in your home, possibly furloughed, and most definitely without freedom. Explaining to someone what the price of freedom is can be tricky, because even the most die hard proponent of freedom gets it a little twisted. Freedom is danger, chaos, it’s very much living in a state of the unknown. Every time you make your own decision freely, you risk paying the price. You know the old silly saying, “you might get run over by a bus tomorrow”. Old folks would say this because they wanted us to stop panicking and prascrastinating about what ifs, whether we were going to try a move with a hot broad, or just even eat something new and exotic. You have no idea what can happen.
Some people who argue against lockdowns, masks, and the banning of social mixing will tell you that the risk of Covid death is significantly low, and yes it is much lower than predicted, I even think Crystal Palace have better odds at winning the Premiership than most people dying from bat sniffles. Those who are pro all authoritarian measures will argue back, saying things like “if you eat big of 1000 crisps, and one of those will kill you, you’re going to take that risk.” This is a dumb hot take, in fact it’s not just dumb, it’s a tell tale symptom of the enslaved mind, and one that loves being that way. The chances of dying in many different scenarios can be higher and lower than dying from Covid. Here in Vietnam, a nation so terrified of the virus that they wear masks in their dreams, have only experienced under 40 deaths so far. In contrast, 13,000 people die every year from motorbike accidents, and that hasn’t informed them to try be slightly good at driving. I don’t avoid getting on a motorbike taxi, it’s cheap and quick. I know the chances of dying are higher than what I grew up with in the UK, but I’m free to die due to my own decision.
When a slave died, it was pretty much out of their hands. They could be beaten, starved, or die from an illness that their masters and overseers thought was too expensive to cure. They possibly didn’t even kill themselves because they didn’t have the means. But as free people, they too could die from making their own stupid decisions as freely as they liked. They could also survive, like the many free men who were expected to perish, because of their ability to make their own decisions and freely navigate their own future. For better or worse. For richer or poorer.
Right now many individuals, maybe including you, are collectively enslaved. They can’t get appointments for vital medical treatment, they are limited to what they can buy to eat and wear, many are reliant on what the government has chosen to allocate them in terms of revenue. If they can’t get by on that, they can’t go out to work, and unlike some of those slaves in the American South, they cannot grow their own food. Some have been able to make one free decision, which is suicide, because there was not alternative, perhaps it was because they had no-one to share their problems with, or perhaps because they couldn’t get the medical treatment they needed and decided they would go out on their own terms. Heroes come in all sorts of strange forms.
But to keep comparing mankind to the slaves would be unfair, because people today seem to be happy in slavery. Though we can’t conduct a survey on slavery, and to gauge the happiness index of such a charged subject through historical readings is difficult, there may have been many slaves suffering after being freed who had thoughts of going back to the plantation. But I like to think that they had better sense than that. Unlike the majority today. People don’t like making decisions for themselves, there’s too many outcomes to consider, and this makes them anxious and scared. They prefer the draining misery of experiencing the same outcome every day, knowing that there are no frills coming their way tomorrow, just more grey, comfortable skies. This isn’t their fault, or your fault if this rings any bells. We, particularly in the west, have aloud those in power to gain more power than they ought to have, and in turn we have become dependent on them to guide almost every decision we make. Good little happy slaves.
But I forget one thing about slavery in the American South that is very different to mankind right now. Some slaves were afforded the “luxury” of becoming house slaves, living in the quarters with their masters and forming a more complex bond. Eating better, sleeping on a better bed, wearing nice clothes because you had to look respectable when surrounded by such esteemed company. Mankind now, possibly you, and all the other Joe and Jane averages of the world, will never be aloud to live in your masters house, you won’t even be able to walk to the gates of their secure community and beg for bread. You certainly can read, unlike slaves in the American South, but it will be selective and you won’t be able to see through the nonsense hidden in all the silly words. In fact if you listen to some of these “shapers” of the new future, you won’t even own anything anymore, just have nice little things leased to you, and if you get sick, hopefully your masters will take care of you.
You will not have any dreams, just a beige wall painted with Duluxe allocated to you by the Department for Happiness. You will be very unfulfilled and limited, but you won’t have to worry about anything. You won’t worry about rejection, dying at high speed on a jet ski, crashing in an aeroplane, or even whether some strange new food will taste yucky (you’ll only have grey food). You will be a content, worry free, happy little slave in your worry free stick hut made of brick and cheap flooring.
Old Music Heads Are Like The Amish (Who Cares About Lyrics!)
Way back in the day I was a big fan of grunge and alternative rock. At secondary school, I hung out with a large clique of similar minded gents, thus was the cultural behaviour of the times. You could have a completely different opinion on politics (something we didn’t give a fuck about), football, sexuality, films, everything, but musical taste was a unifying thing. Unlike most of my friends, I was always drawn to exploring music, I would see other sun-genres and be curious about what was good about it. The friends around me never liked to flirt with heavier music, if anything they preferred lighter things. I did like Nine Inch Nails and Ministry, that was some heavy shit, but it wasn’t heavy metal, though it would be lumped in with the rest of them. I decided to pursue a journey of discovery into heavier music. In those days I would buy albums purely based on reviews, or because I’d seen a t-shirt, or heard about the band, and often never even heard one of their songs. I lived dangerously like that.
I started off with Fear Factory, then went on to buy Korn, Sepultura, Dearly Beheaded, Godflesh, White Zombie, Pantera, Neurosis, and Machine Head albums. And it didn’t take long for me to be really into it, and soon I was going to live shows, wearing t-shirts, and worshiping Satan on alternate weekends. Most of the boys in my clique didn’t like it, and didn’t even want to sample the heavy side, except for a couple of friends who would go onto becoming big fans of some of those bands I mentioned. The common critique from the nay-sayers was either “it’s aggressive” or more often “I can’t even understand the lyrics.” I didn’t care that some lyrics were in-audible, the energy, power, and expression got me every time. I loved it, and still fucking love it.
The same was for hip hop. My old best friend who put me onto music like Jeru Tha Damaja, Wu Tang, Pharcyde, and Nine, wasn’t too into the west coast groovy gangster gangster shit. But again, I was curious, and made a journey that introduced me to artists like Too Short. Then in the early 2000’s, having been into Goodie Mob, I wanted to discover more southern stuff, and this was still a time when it wasn’t considered cool in many circles of “heads”. I fell in love with Trick Daddy, Three 6 Mafia, David Banner, Lil Flip, and on and so on.
When I became of age where my chine was chiseled and I should of had a wife and kids, I found myself as an old head, hanging around with other old heads. I wanted to find out what was new and what people were into now (back then). At first it seemed I had become like many other old heads, and every beat and artist just sounded the same to me. It seemed un-inspiring and lacking in originality. But fuck it, I dove in deep, and because of the digital age, I could dive in deeper than ever before and still pay for adult things, like bills and shit. And I loved it. All of it. I discovered some of my favourite artists, Kevin Gates and Freddie Gibbs, and oddly, Future.
I remember hearing “Tony Montana” for the first time and thinking, “what the fuck is this all about?” But after listening to Monster and DS2, Future became one of my most played artists, I just fucking love Future. I remember hearing about Lil Yachty, I saw his hair, and I thought, let’s try that out. I was never a fan of his breakout song “One Night”, but that Lil Boat mixtape got me. It wasn’t brilliantly produced or put together, but it had some energy and hooks that just took me over. Then I discovered all the South Florida artists, XXX, Ski Mask, Bass Santana, Craig Zen, Denzel Curry, Lil Simmy, Rob Banks, and I found a whole scene that I feel has been one of the greatest of all time. Truly. Then there’s melodic rap, sing-rap if you like. You know, the stuff pioneered by Drake, the style of Post Malone, Lil Peep, and Juice Wrld. I love it, I absolutely love Juice Wrld, Death Race for Love is one of my top 10’s, it is flabby, but there’s enough great songs to be a shortened classic, no doubt.
But me as an old head loving all this music, I am a rarity. Because most old heads don’t want to know, or even experiment. They’d never be able to try and listen to Lil Bibby, Chief Keef, or Lil Uzi, it just hurts them too much. They like their rap like how I like my Bollinger, from the early nineties. It could be brand new artists, barely 17 years old, but their sound is so nineties, and therefore, that’s ok for them. I often tried to play some bangers, I’ve even played them Killstation, and every time there was reactions filled with disdain. I even have a friend who’d continuously accuse me of deliberately liking music they hate just to piss them off.
You’ve heard the complaints from the old heads.
“Look at how they dress, LOL”
“They’re pussies, rapping and singing about their feelings, LOL”
“This ain’t the real hip hop, real hip hop talks about the struggle. SMH”
“This mumble rap is shit, I can’t understand a word their saying, LOL”
I get it, you like old things, like the Amish. The argument about lyrics has always puzzled me though. You’re average hip hop fan isn’t living some kind of struggle, most of them lead quite regular lives and enjoy eating over priced pulled pork sandwiches with their hipster weirdo friends. But they can only relate to hip hop about the struggle (and come on, how long is this struggle supposed to go on for exactly?). But when they here Juice’s lyrics about all girls being the same, or Drake talking about drunk texting exes at 2am, apparently these people are too thugged out for such emotional honesty, whilst sipping a fruit cider at a Banksy exhibition wearing a ridiculous hat. But then there are “mumble” artists who are all about the streets and the struggle, but they don’t understand what they’re saying. Now I love a good lyric, quoting Snoop, Jada, Pusha, Cam, it’s great fun, especially Cam, you just can’t beat his lunacy. But who really gives a fuck. If the energy ain’t good and the beat is crap, I don’t really care for your witty entendres, metaphors and punchlines. And neither does the majority of planet earth.
Hip hop is global, so global that there is a scene in every country, even in countries you couldn’t even imagine having one. I’ve heard Bulgarian, Malaysian, Vietnamese, German, Polish, Palestinian, Egyptian, Japanese, Thai, even shit from countries not recognised by the UN. And if it’s banging, I’m all in. And so are they. When 50 Cent rocks up in Bahrain, and spits “Niggaz sayin’ they gon’ murk 50, how? We ridin’ round with guns the size of Lil Bow Wow”, you think even half the crowd has a clue what the fuck he’s going on about? You ever seen a club full Mongolians singing along to Lil Jon, hell even you probably don’t understand what skeet means. Shit, even little white girls in Southampton singing along to the chorus of “Loyal” have no idea what they’re doing.
Music is big worldwide because of a feeling, and if you don’t understand a word that Playboi Cardi and Gunna say, neither do Chinese and Estonian fans of Wu Tang when they fly in for a show. Music is a feeling, lyrics are fine, but I tell you this, the worst night out in the world of supposed music culture is a Don’t Flop battle. Just lyrics, pasty faces under Nu Era caps, and no fucking music. Give me Young Thug in a dress making weird noises any fucking day.