A place for a

24.09.2015

Trust no one – You fucking arseholes!

The bell rings. The police is here. Three proud men proclaiming they have come to search my place. I stare them down, but the guy who is one head taller than me holds eye contact supremely well. I annoyedly let them in.

This time, I will not pretend to like it. I will not pretend to be Mr. Nice Boy who reacts in the correct way. Fuck you.

They tell me I have a right to calmly read the whole piece of paper that allows them to search my flat. Right? Allows? What the fuck? So if it is allowed, I can stay calm? Fuck you.

I take my time reading it. All those official words in there and paragraphs with numbers, giving it importance, because I am conditioned to feel awe when I see a paragraph with a number. Cause it means big buildings, prisons, court rooms, blah blah.

I do not notice that the crime I am charged of is two days ahead – fucking idiots.

What happened?

My old bosses website was supposedly hacked. He claims that his customer database was deleted and stolen. And a DDoS attack committed. That dude does not even know what that is. I was the website administrator until the end of 2014.

Unfortunately, two days before it happened, I wrote quite an angry and insulting message to him, sharing my long withheld sentiments that he is a disgusting wuss.

The piece of paper with the neat official logo says that the men have come to see if I have the access keys to the website on my computer and whether they can also find a backup of my database.

I tell them I do not like this. I shout at them that I have nothing to do with this bullshit.

But so what, I tell them that I indeed do have the access keys. I tell them that I can show them the keys and make a copy for them. I tell them I can make a whole copy of my hard drive onto an external hard drive for them.

But they do not agree. They want to take it all with them. Procedure. They need to do a forensic analysis. What the fuck? You plug a hard drive into the USB port and copy the data. And because you do it in a room in your monkey office that is called forensic laboratory, it becomes the magical act of forensic analysis.

I tell them I can give them a full copy. They can watch me do it. Fuck, the files they want are a few KiloBytes in size. They can even sit at my computer with my instruction.

No, no, nah, new.

What the hell do you idiots want to find. They utter at me their studied sentences: Whatever we can find can also be good for you, so this should be in your interest.

Mr. Criminal Main Commissars, how stupid do you think I am? What the hell will you find? What kind of blind trust in your rusty, idiotic institution do you want me to bring up? What kind of belief in some kind of magic evidence wand do you want me to fake? What the hell do you want to find?

Fuck you!

This is all bullshit. There is nothing they can find. Hell, computers are no horoscopes. You will find the access keys – as I said you would – and then what? Then you will reach some magical conclusion?

Fuck you!

I call them assholes, idiots, stupid sheep. The big one with solid eye contact, the sympathetic neutral one and the angry little fat one.

This has nothing to do with reason and I let them know it. It is just a stupid show, meant to impress me and give the meek citizen the illusion that somebody is in control and that the truth will be revealed.

If this was about reason, they would talk to me and have all their stuff with them and we would just get it done.

May the force be against you

My face starts to contort. I involuntarily bare my teeth at them. I step between them and my computer and tell them: Take it, you stupid sheep.

They say they will take it by force, if necessary. I tell them to go ahead, then.

These assholes come into my place and want to take my stuff. My work, my livelihood, my projects, practically everything that has value to me. And the last time police took something from me, they did not even process the case after two fucking years.

They tell me that if we have to fight, I will be charged with resistance against the state force and for any injuries they receive. They tell me that they will not even fight, but call more cops, which I will have to pay.

I step towards the small fat one and look down on him, far past any reasonable personal comfort zone. I ask: And what do you do if I attack you?

They repeat what they already said: More trouble for me.

Freedom is a fucking illusion. If people can walk in on you and take all your stuff, how can you believe in freedom? No, freedom would be me, with a gun, telling them to come if it is worth their lives.

It is all a fucking delusion. Respect of authority.

What exactly do I respect? Their reason? None apparent. Their fairness? None apparent. Their nice official emblem with lions? Laughable.

These fags are no lions. They are bullies. Bullies with badges, uniformed through clothes and the right to impose force on others.

All the time, they try to talk friendly, though. Tell me they understand. Fuck you. You steal my stuff and say you understand? This is fucking ridiculous. But I can not say it does not work. They act friendly while doing what they do and that makes you feel like there is something good and understanding about them. Haha.

It is not like in a Hollywood movie, where there is dramatic music underneath and the bad guys have evil faces and look angry. It is real life. These are just normal dudes. Normal dudes who take all your stuff and take it with force, if necessary.

The big guy is very good, he asks me about my guitar and my photographs. And I feel so fucking frustrated that I answer him, just to have some human connection in this. But I have no illusions, of course. I ask him whether they have courses on that.

I challenge them all to a boxing match. They look at me like at a little kid. The big one keeps saying What use is it? That is where we live. In a place where if you want to defend yourself, the mindset is: What use is it?

What use it is? I stand behind my thing. That use.

Fucking fascists

They say they have no room for decision in this. No room for decision? And then you claim you are anything but sheep? How can I respect somebody who has no room for decision?

They say they are just doing their job. They say it in such a confident and reasonable manner that I almost feel guilty for my unpleasantness. They make themselves look so harmless and normal. I compare them to Nazis. Yeah, I know, old trick. But they were also just following orders.

So they stand there, with that borrowed confidence of just doing their jobs. Jeez, at least take responsibility for what you do. Do not pretend that this is any good for me, because I know that you can not find anything positive nor negative on that computer. You will find what I said you would and then you will make some guesswork decision.

Just a big waste of money and time. Three grown men with no room for decision. For what? To copy a little bit of data. But. It seems all important and respectful and grave because they are officials and follow procedure. Big fucking show, big fucking confidence game. It is all just for your safety.

Fuck you!

I tell them that they can not expect me to think of them as anything but thieves, no matter how they call themselves.

Speaking my mind feels good. It gives my thoughts an anchor in reality. Makes my convictions real. What a surprising effect. No wonder freedom of speech is feared. Because once you speak your mind, your truth becomes as real as any other. I am not trying to convince them this time, I am just trying to make it real for myself.

Mindless drones. Seriously. This whole matter could have been solved, hell, within less than an hour, if someone real knowledgeable came around and looked at the stuff.

It is a fucking show.

I mean: Just because a matter is important or emotional to someone, you do not become more reasonable or more correct or more right by using anything else than simple reason.

This whole pompous presentation, the whole uniforms, the mighty houses, the judges in robes, they are all just there to hide a simple truth: That these people do not know any better. They are not any smarter. Not any more confident or secure in their knowledge. But they have to appear so.

And because they have to appear so, any clear language must be prohibited. They must teach you how to talk – politeness, to disallow negative associations with them. You must prohibit calling things as they are: You versus Me. You must prohibit people from seeing the whole system as a fucking schoolyard with bullies.

But that is a truth that can not be known. It would bring people to question the whole concept of civilization. It would make people question the validity of the concept of crime as anything else than that which opposes the people in power, sanity as anything but the personality you must have to not disturb their power.

Just fuck off already

So they pack in all the stuff. They find flash cards with photographs. I ask them to leave them behind. They ponder whether they can. They oh so reasonably come to the conclusion that it would be illogical for me to copy the access keys or the database on a smart card. They leave it behind and say: See, we are not that bad.

Ha ha, fucking ha. You take all my stuff and leave behind a 10$ flash card and expect gratitude. Fucking ridiculous.

But you know, the organism just seems to emotionally respond to it. Makes me want to say Thank you, so I do.

Life indeed is kinda messy. You can have intimacy with your enemies. It just is what it is. You can love and hate someone at the same time. Emotions are weird. It is a funny game.

An acquaintance comes around and I am glad for some emotional support.

The dudes leave, two of them shake my hand. The fat little one does not. He carries my computer, anyway. Fucking prick.

The funny thing about it is also their entitlement. They do not think for a second that anything is wrong with what they do. My anger amuses them.

Why? Because they do not think. They chose a job where they do not have to. They just have their fucking procedure and can avoid all the difficult questions – the ones arising from their pretense of doing something good for me – by following orders, possibly deluding themselves and their victims (or enemies, to not sound so whiny) into believing that this superficial structure really brings about some truth.

They have more confidence than any individual will ever have. And this reminded me of what I read some time ago and could not agree with. That all evil in humankind arises from absolute certainty.

I do not believe in evil. But I now believe in stupidity. And that confidence does not equal any kind of reason, intelligence or valuable insight. It only equals a streamlined way of thinking, a repetition of thought patterns – read: words – in a closed system, until no doubt exists anymore.

Aftermath

Afterwards, I kept writing angry and insulting mails to police and my old boss.

They charged me with insult of an official. I replied that there is no such thing as insult of an official to my knowledge. The officer replied that that is correct and that there is only a normal insult, but insult of an official sounds catchier.

Well, at least he was honest.

You know, the whole part about calling more cops – that is honest. It is real. It is: I have more power than you. You can do nothing.

It is no pretense.

This fucking democracy gives you the illusion of power, but there is none. It just calms your mind to think that theoretically, all you do is based on free will.

But once you start exercising free will, force is used, as I now finally have my proof.

The officers claim to come to peacefully retrieve my stuff. But if I resist, they take it by force. The big one, the normal sympathetic one and the small fat one.

The best part

But the best part about all this? I actually tried to log in to the database later. The passwords were still the same.

What the fuck? You think the matter grave and me dangerous enough for your company, but even now you do not change your friggin passwords? You dirty liar!

And what do I see in the database? As I thought, nobody deleted it. It is still there.

All my stuff got taken away based on a charge that was not even verified or proven.

This system is so fucked up and stupid. All the official monkeys, what do they do? Act official. They do not do any meaningful and reasonable work. They are just plain ineffective money burners.

And all the procedure there to create the illusion of safety, of freedom from human error. Bwahaha.

So I keep writing angry emails, but nobody answers. I now threaten my old boss with exposing his stupidity to his competition. Who knows, it may just get me deeper into trouble.

I fantasize about flipping the bird at the stupid female judge, throwing a chair at her. I fantasize about murder or at least seriously hurting this asshole of old boss.

I do not think I ever felt this kind of rage. I no longer doubt that anyone can murder. They say it is not true and most people are so established in their social circles that they will do all but ever dare to get into such a situation. Their need for serotonin in their brain will keep them from doing this shit.

But I will not murder. It would only destroy myself. I fear that I may do the next best thing, though, and seriously assault the guy. It would be right. It would be what he deserves. It would be what I need to give.

But it is not what society allows me to be without destroying my life.

Reaching out

Nobody answers to my angry emails and I feel lost. My old boss, once more convinced of a computer crime that did not happen, in his dramatic character, because of his lack of understanding in the matter. My old boss, who now hides behind the bullies. My old boss, who pretended to be my friend and told me how he always defended me against all others. He will not even take a call, not even let me confront him. Fucking pretender.

I am frustrated. More disillusioned than ever before. I am fucking alone in this world, as I watch all I knew of it fall apart, all my indoctrinated beliefs peel off the surface of reality.

I am a villain, but I do not even have the girls a villain has. I am literally in the gutter of society.

But fuck society. Society is an illusion. A word given to a collective of people that have nothing in common, really. The illusion of a big fucking family.

Shame floods my senses and I am so finished that I can barely do anything but feel the anger and shame and profound sense of betrayal. And a tiny bit of pride for not respecting the state monkeys anymore.

I feel confident about my decision and scared to death of the near future. I see that the way I went and will go is inescapable. I can not let them walk over me, my anger will not allow it. But it will get me nothing but further trouble. And the little pride of standing behind my shit.

Am I absolutely certain? Hell, I am not. And I guess I am starting to learn that that wish is an illusion. I am confused. I am in pain. And I admit it.

This is certainly the darkest time in my life, because of the financial problems this will bring me into, and I reach out to those who are not even friends, but people who I think may understand.

Friends? Those I had would not understand. It was just a fake friendship. They know nothing of my rage. To them, I would just be boasting about this. But I do not want to boast, I want someone to understand.

Some respond. It feels good. The need to kill slowly fades to a moderate and controllable level.

To take the mind away from the trouble, take it towards real connection, for like the first time in my life. First time in my life, somebody responds to who I really am.

A tribe

How would it be to have a little tribe? A little tribe inside this system that does not let the system fuck with itself? A little mafia? I can see the allure. I can see the hypocrisy of a Dale Carnegie, who wondrously observes that even mafia bosses do not feel they are bad people.

Of course not. Morals are an illusion. It is all a fight for power. My family against the others. My love for us and my hate for them. How can it be any different?

Real freedom? What does that mean? It means to be on top, to be the one monkey who makes the idiotic rules. Everything else is a sad excuse. To play by the rules and try to win it in democracy? No. And indeed Hitler did understand this. He understood that democracy is a lie, a red herring. If you want power, you have to claim it. Unfortunately, I am far from knowing how or having the energy or skills to do it.

Human rights? Property? They trash them in the bin the moment somebody denounces – pardon, charges – you. My place does not feel like my place anymore.

But the system is weak. Why? Because the system allows me to write this, publish it and not be punished for it. The system is at an interesting point where it allows freedom of speech. Something very new, by the way. It makes the system weak, but it opens up opportunity. I am curious who will seize it.

Even 70 years ago, in this country, people died for publishing leaflets. Think of this, it is real.

I just wish I did have a tribe. Thanks to those who listen to me, even if I am an angry raging ass. I appreciate it, even if I can not give back any of the love. I have nothing to give right now.

One last shout out

I always laughed at those who opposed society alone. The heroic stories. I mean, we know they were right, no? But that is bullshit. Being alone against everybody feels not heroic at all. The ending is not yet written and it could be very bad for me.

And I remember talking bad about Roosh when he made such a poor appearance on TV, exposed as an evil person. I did not even know what I was talking about. It really is a fucking pathetic situation to be in. If you read this, Roosh, I take back my words. You have my respect for doing what you do.

And the guys charged with rape without proof? I now understand.

It just all looks so fucking easy from the outside. When it does not concern you. So you just think, ah, fuck these paranoid idiots. That is nothing.

Yeah, it is nothing, until it is your life.

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  • Incompetent boobs. Im sitting on another police story right now that does not flatter them all too well. However, I’m waiting for the whole thing to blow over a little more.

    • Coward.

      But I am scared shitless myself. Just posted this because I think they are tools and can do nothing about it, anyway.

      • Micah Geni

        …yet..

        I think we are heading for a legalized system where “freedom of speach” is above “everything”, as long as you only speak politically correct. The professional victims seem to work as crusaders, for law changes. “I am so offended that I was ptsd…”.. Youll find a lot about those issues, on radio stations like Red Ice Creations. A lot free stuff on youtube

        You’re not alone with experiences like that. It does make one think.
        If one ends outside the box, after experiencing things like it, ruminating about it all, freedom, democracy, while under employment for the system, they might call it ptsd and hand you some type of pension..

        I think it was Churchill:
        The next wave of fascism, will come from the anti-fascists (or sth in that gate)

        • PTSD? What do you mean?

          Bahaha, above everything … as long as … you hit it on the nail there, my friend. But fuck it, freedom of speech has never, anywhere, been a real reasonable law. In the US, it only started to be effectively used in the 20th century. And in the 1st World War, people were still almost sentenced to twenty years in prison for anti-war sentiments.

          But look at what happened later, when freedom of speech became a value. They lost Vietnam. The feminazis took over. The gays infiltrated everything. Freedom of speech may in fact – however good it feels – be just an idiotic sentiment that destroys the country.

          As I wrote, what bugs me the most, is the hypocrisy. You got all those rights with a big fat BUT(T).

          As I ruminate about it – to use your word – I come to the conclusion that the only kind of freedom I want to have one day is the freedom of a magnificent self-designed house somewhere in the wilderness, at the top of a giant waterfall. With a big pile of weapons. And if somebody comes to take it – it is defend or die. And apart from that, the rest of the world can fuck each other over as much as they want.

          Even cooler, the whole thing with a small tribe. Aggressive, driven people, you know. Some girls there, but under the men’s control. Me the head of it, until some day I am too old and some dude challenges me. Like with the Sith. Would be awesome.

          But that is just a dream. Have you heard this one? Why do niggers only have nightmares? Because the last one that had a dream got shot

        • By the way, does your RB mail still work? I wrote you.

        • And. You should stop editing your comments so regularly. Then I will not have to wait an hour before responding, in the hope that my reply will not be redundant.

  • Wald

    Reading such a page starts to make me angry.

    The idea of a tribe, a mafia appeals to me very much.

    Wald

    • Thanks.

      Yes, I think it is the way to go if you have the skills. I do not, currently, but I can see you succeeding in that kind of thing.

  • Karin Campbell

    Jeez it’s like those Stanley Milgram social-psych experiments in the 70s.. being a non-sheep is its own reward.

    sorry. last comment ;). I feel like sigourney weaver in Alien 3… ima go find a girl blog, if I can find one with some good stories about civil disobedience or knitting and such.