A place for a

20.02.2017

Arguments are power plays

When somebody is in competition to another, it is not so much whether he is actually better that counts.

It is whether the voices that most people listen to judge his performance as better.

The “critics’ consensus”. The consensus of the voices that most people think are reasonable and informed. Whatever that means, right?

When you trust a source that says “Trump totally owned Hillary, that bitch”, then that is the truth.

When you trust a source that says “Hillary is the rightful winner, Trump only tricked himself into winning”, then that is the truth.

But it’s much more apparent when there is no actual competition rules, like in a presidency.

In a debate.

Take a public debate. Most people afterwards will gravitate towards sources that proclaim that their preferred debater “won” or “totally burned” the other one.

In a debate there is no objective winner. What counts is not so much whether someone has actually won, but whether you can convince people that some particular part of the debate marked a participant’s victory.

And suddenly, after the critic says it, “it becomes obvious”. Well, why wasn’t it obvious before the critic or “expert” said it?

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23.12.2016

We don’t live in a rape culture – we live in something far worse (?)

Some people say we live in a “rape culture”

Know what we really live in? A SHOCK CULTURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!§”§$%

Modern people get high on shocks in the SHOCK CULTURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!§”§$%

People like to get shocked by what X or Z did or how that person in video Y ACTUALLY DARED to do M and how NOBODY DID ANYTHING about J and how S is so fucking L and how TERRIBLE U was and how OMG THEY CAN’T BELIEVE what happened to K and they like to BE LITERALLY SHAKING FROM THE EVENTS IN G

This is why we live in a SHOCK CULTURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!§”§$%

When we see something with multiple possible explanations we automatically assume the most shocking and terrible one

Why? Because we live in a SHOCK CULTURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!§”§$%

We like the high of getting shocked and we like the anger rage indignation sadness moral superiority righteousness devastation and desire for revenge we can share and wallow in with our fellow “citizens”

And who profits in the end? The ones who promise us to stop all that evil evil!

Which is ironic because we dont really want the evil evil to stop – we are much too addicted to being shocked – if there was nothing to be shocked about wed rather invent something to be shocked about than to not be shocked

That’s because we live in a SHOCK CULTURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!§”§$%

Continue reading “We don’t live in a rape culture – we live in something far worse (?)

21.11.2016

Roosh V banned me from Return of Kings after 2 years of commenting

Return of Kings is a great site. It has mostly good articles and I’ve been a regular commenter for about 2 years, give or take. It may have been a little less, but I can’t think of any quick way to check. After an estimated 12k of comments I left there (and about 9500 upvotes I got), I think it’s fair to call myself a regular there. I wasn’t a top dog by any means, as you can guess if you know my content. But I got to knew the other regulars there and they got to know me and I have had many interesting conversations with them, I think that’s a fair assessment. I also would say that I was mostly supportive of the general content and by no means a total troll, as I am sure most other commenters would agree.

The more disappointed was I when I got banned from commenting on ROK yesterday.

Here’s what happened.

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17.09.2016

Darth Vader is the product of a single mother, one-itis and white-knighting

Anakin Skywalker grew up with a single mother. There was no father there to shield him from all the feminine attention and coddling that he got from her; and perhaps to teach him through his presence that one will, in life, always have competition over a woman’s affection and, often, lose.

Be it as it was, he was her one and only object of love, lacking siblings as well. He was parentized in another way, too, in that he was, at an age of, what, 8?, the one working and making sure that there’s food on the table; at least that is my impression. Granted, they were slaves, but we do get to meet him through the work he does for that flying insect thing. He developed considerable skills and got praise for that – but he also got used for it.

All this developed in him a superiority complex. As a young boy, he already shouldered the emotional and wordly responsibilities of an adult male. One can only wonder how much his own emotional needs got neglected for this. In his own eyes, he must have been quite a superhuman being. Taking care of his mother, the big love in his life, and getting all her praise.

When he meets Amidala at a later stage in life, having long been separated from his mother, he got infatuated with Amidala. Surely the fact that she reminded him of that time back on Tatooine was an important factor to him. He wanted to be to her what he had been to his mother: The one and only recipient of her love and attention and praise. Her hero.

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21.07.2016

How everybody is your rapist – and how not. Or: Beating the devil

There was this fat black bitch in a therapeutic living community I was residing at for some time. She had this tick … whenever she saw somebody in a uniform, she went haywire. She literally was getting into fights with cops and ticket inspectors. She knew all the local ticket inspectors by name. And the boss of those ticket inspectors – I think she called him Nicolini – he was like her nemesis, evil arch angel. She could ramble about what a basterd he was all day. It was like listening to some epic mythological saga.

Well, anyhow, one day it turned out that when she was a kid, her daddy was a police officer somewhere in Africa or something like that. Her house was under surveillance by lots of men with uniforms. And those men raped her best girl friend.

I found it a little silly back then, but the world being funny as it is, turns out I suffer from a similar affliction. I also developed kind of a strong hatred for police officers and people who think they have authority over me. At first, it was just unreflected rage. I did not know where it came from. But I’ve had time to introspect since and it turns out, when some cop barks at me, it triggers emotions in me of myself having been raped.

Of course, the cop is not the person who raped me. But the mind does not care. It is a defense mechanism. And if you think of it, it is a somewhat valid one.

When somebody traumatizes you, your mind creates this image of an “oppressor”. It may be some emotion that this person displayed while harming you. It may be something about his looks. Basically, the brain just goes haywire associating and trying to find a pattern. Why? To avoid it from happening again.

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19.07.2016

Why is everyone so obsessed with vacation?

I just saw a newspaper article: Where can you still travel for a vacation?

Subtitle: Are there still safe places for recreation?

Obviously inspired by all the boo-hoo-bombs and all that.

But it made me think: What kind of shitty life do we all live that we need recreation? And how pathetic are we to actually accept two weeks of time-off and bliss as a compensation for some 48 weeks of stress?

Note that the German word for recreation is Erholung, which also translates as rest or recovery.

So, basically, we all crave this recovery. Yeah, but is it not kinda weird that we need recoveryRecovery from what? If we blindly accept, do we not also silently acknowledge that we hate the lives we live from day to day?

Now, you may say: Oh, Tom, you are thinking about it too much. People simply like to get some rest from their work.

Yeah, yeah. You are thinking too much. Fuck you, asshat. Keep saying all these sentences that start with: Well, people simply like to [insert unquestioned stupid habit].

People are social animalsPeople are ….

People are fucking stupid. They keep repeating all those sentences. All those sentences they heard all their lives, sentences meant to console them, make them feel good about being fucking slaves.

And when you accept such a sentence as consolation, what do you do when somebody else does not? When somebody else reminds you of the shittiness of it all? Exactly. You tell the sentence to them. You mean well, of course.

Oh, isn’t it sad that some people can’t afford to do something nice on their holidays?

Well, isn’t if fucking sad that people can’t afford to do something nice all the fucking time?

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11.07.2016

There is only one real conspiracy

We always fight about the truth. Which system is the best, which rules are the best, whether this and that really happened and who lied to us and whom we can trust.

But this is not the real fight. Even the conspiracy theorists and smart minds play right into the hands of those who know the real rules of the game.

The real game is not about truth. It is about a commodity of much higher value. Your attention.

The real game is not about whether politicians lie to us, whether we have really been on the moon, whether capitalism is better than socialism, whether feminists are right.

The real game is about keeping you thinking, keeping you wondering, keeping you worrying, keeping you afraid and caught up in epic fantasies of heroism and betrayal.

The real game is about feeding on your attention. They feed on all the energy you invest into trying to take those things apart in your head. Trying to figure out what’s going on.

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10.07.2016

Black lives matter – to whom?

When you assert that something matters, you are expressing a value. But a value does not exist as an objective truth in a vacuum. Rather, a value is something that is held by a person capable of judging.

You can not talk about what matters without talking about the individuals that it matters to.

When you tell me that black lives matter, then I must ask: To whom?

To be realistic, I would expect this to be followed by the loaded question: So you think black lives do not matter?

And I would say: Not to me, no.

And I would expect to be guilt-tripped and shamed a little, back and forth, blah blah yada.

But seriously, why should I – me as an individual – care about black lives? What does that even mean?

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25.06.2016

Anger hypnosis – why do politics enrage us so?

Nietzsche suggests in his book On the Genealogy of Morals a historical account of a nation that was harmonious and peaceful inside, while periodically going on crusades against other nations, committing the most heinous crimes; rape, murder, torture. And they enjoy it. He suggests that this nation has developed this mechanism as a way to vent the more animalistic tendencies that are suppressed inside its civilization.

Why do we get so angry about politics? Why do we see a flag or a famous monkey and are so hyponotized by it that we elevate it, in our minds, above all of those who oppose it? Why are we seemingly ready to kill people who disagree with us about political issues – and yet seldom dare to speak our own minds if they oppose that which is morally accepted?

I think the answer is simple.

Political issues and political leaders give us the permission to be angry. Something we are generally not allowed to be.

To be angry and violent, those are qualities that are looked down upon in society. To use force and power to get your own way, that is perhaps the greatest crime of all. Beware the selfish man. Serve the others, always be compassionate and so on. And yet, when our personally chosen leaders talk about the enemies of their values, we become feral, with foam at our mouths, ready to do almost anything to silence them. Very peculiar.

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17.06.2016

A letter from his daughter

Paul got a letter from his daughter. He hesitated to read it. He put it away for a long time until he brought up the courage to open it. It said:

 

Hi daddy,

I had this voice in my head all my life. A voice that was telling me that I am a miserable piece of shit. That I don’t deserve love, don’t deserve pleasure, don’t deserve a fulfilling sex life.

Once the voice appeared in my dreams. It was the devil. A horrifying black cloud of terror. In that dream, I tried to fight him. Was it a him? Or was it an it? I tried to fight it, but my limbs were frozen. I could not move, as much as I tried. It ridiculed me and said You are mine. I whimpered and kept repeating to myself, No, no, no, oh please, god, no! Reality was disintegrating.

I woke up shaken and out of my mind. I pushed it all away, it could not be. I forced myself to forget about it.

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