A place for a

23.02.2017

Feminism and gaming: Far Cry 3 writer says the player’s character should have been castrated

Spoiler warning. Don’t read if you don’t want to read about Far Cry 3’s ending.

I remember playing Far Cry 3 and wondering why the fuck I have to be playing hero for some stupid indigenous tribe led by some stupid bitch whom I could not care less about other than that she was kind ahot.

I also remember wondering why I, the hapless and untrained American tourist, am chosen over literally every other male in the game for this task.

Either way, the whole story was kinda weird and the bossfight you actually look forward to is even weirder and rather disappointing.

In the end of the game, you are encouraged to make a choice:

  1. Kill your friends and stay with the stupid but hot bitch who proclaims her love for you.
  2. Save your friends and kill the bitch.

If you choose the first option, the bitch will fuck and then kill you.

Turns out, Far Cry 3 writer Jeffrey Yohalem wanted to make a feminist statement with this, to mock the “princess saving complex”. To punish the man for his “misogyny”, he suggests he actually should have been castrated. Here’s the excerpt from the linked article (Spoilers!):

In one ending, Jason chooses to live out his days with Citra, where he – being the ultimate badass that he is – will continue to protect the island. Only Citra has other plans and decides to murder the oblivious bloke instead.

As it turns out, Citra never really needed to be saved and the whole thing is a commentary on the princess rescuing complex that permeates the medium. “Jason conjures up this whole idea that Citra needs saving and he’s gonna save her, when in reality it was all a ritual she created to find a sperm donor, and she kills him,” Yohalem explained.

“Sex, violence, and the player is killed. Here are the things that satisfy our animal side as men, but they’re subverted because it’s a female doing it.” Yohalem likened the ending to Princess Peach stabbing Mario. “Now that I’m thinking about it, that final scene should have been Citra castrating Jason. Seriously, that’s the point! It is like, ‘You win, motherf*****!’ It’s totally like, ‘F*** you, you misogynist idiot!’”

For reference, here is the original article that this article quotes from on archive.org. Apparently it has been deleted since, but you can find this old version of it, so it’s all cool.

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14.02.2017

A vision from a weird kind of hell …

You are in a big prom hall. You hear beautiful fairy tale songs from your childhood. Everyone seems in ecstasy and full of joy. Your grandparents are around you and you remember being with them while you were small. And the almost Christmaslike innocent kitsch music fills the room with childlike wonder.

Now a group of men walk in. They carry axes and swords. They start killing and ripping apart all your loved ones.

If this was a normal avantgarde movie, that in itself would be provocative enough. The music would now switch to some weird horror music.

But not in hell. No.

In hell, the innocent childlike music keeps playing, lulling you into feelings of comfort and joy. And at the same time you see the horror before your eyes … and since you are so nicely conditioned to be hypnotized by beautiful music and let it dictate your judgment and mood ….

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19.01.2017

The cruelty of man and the inherent hypocrisy of “morals”

Man is not meek nor does man fear his own cruelty. But he fears that if he admitted his own cruelty, he would validate the cruelty of others, which would put him in danger.

Thus hiding his own cruelty he convinces others that he is meek, thus winning their trust and resources.

Many who pretend they are meek then so find together as a community.

Thus community is something born entirely out of selfish interests. Pretending to be meek is the best way – at least in our society that I know – to ensure safety of the self. Selfish satisfaction.

And when one stops pretending, he is shunned. Not because he is ‘worse’ than the others. But because someone else who doesn’t feel obliged to pretend is an inherent danger to the self.

Ironically, you can not ‘explain’ to that person why he should be pretending. So what you do is – you unleash your own beast on that non-pretender. And he ‘learns’ that the pretense is better. And on the surface you may say to that person ‘You have been bad and this is your punishment.’ But that’s only the surface. The real communication is through pain and that one doesn’t lie. It says: I am a beast and I will keep hurting you until you do as I wish you to do.

Unfortunately this contradiction between verbal and non-verbal communication leads to madness. Classical double bind. It creates a disconnect between the mind and the body. And the result is what we all know as ‘hypocrisy’. It is a man whose mind doesn’t understand his body and whose body doesn’t understand his mind.

I really never understood why people thought ‘altruism’ was not selfish…

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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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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11.06.2016

How to put stupid bitches in their place

After so many articles about unconditional love and all that, let’s have some variety. Sometimes anger and violence can be a good tool to enforce your personal boundaries. For example to shield yourself against bitchiness, guilt-trips, shaming and passive aggressive shit. And against overt aggression as well, of course.

This is something that happened to me a while ago on the street, as I was out to get some food. An small old haggard cunt with grey dyke-cut hair walked past some beggar who owned a dog. She screeched at him and said That is a nono! This is forbidden! I did not care for the dog or the beggar, but her toxic nature made me instinctively turn around and show her my face with disgust written on it. If she wants to go around throwing her black shit at everyone, she may as well get some back. Karma.

I looked away and she passed by. She then said behind my back, snarkily and bitchily Do not look that way! With that tone of supremacy.

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03.05.2016

Is your pain created by yourself or others?

I want to ask you a question. I want to ask you to answer it spontaneously, without thinking, out of your gut. The question is: Who creates all the pain in your life?

Okay, I admit it. I am not that creative. This question is just a variation of something a woman asked me in response to a Quora question of mine about free will. She wrote: Who creates your life? Although it seemingly had no connection to my question, I felt a deep desire to answer this question. And although I did not fully understand my own answer, it was simple: I. I create my life. I choose everything I am and everything I experience.

I still do not fully understand it. But I can not deny that the only answer that feels right is still the same.

There is a cool site called Existential Comics with lots of comics poking fun at philosophers of all ages. Here is a fun bit about stoicism. The message is a bit similar: You can not harm me. It is only me who can choose to suffer from events I have no control over.

I have been doing meditation for about half a year now and about two weeks ago I had a short insight into how this is true. I was at cinema and the ads started running as they always do. And as always, I had a reflexive reaction to them: I felt contempt, boredom, ridicule.

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09.04.2016

A phenotypical explanation of fear of women

Recently, I used to have dreams in which my mother ridiculed and humiliated me. I wanted to strike her, but something kept me from it, I felt paralyzed. There was also this one time where my mother threw a nice skull I owned out of the window. I wanted to punch her, but I felt a similar kind of fearful resistance.

Now, I have been thinking. Does it make sense to be afraid of women purely for reasons of shaming tactics or to avoid rejection? It does not quite add up.

Some time ago, a commenter remarked about a picture of me and my mother and my grandmother that it is obvious that they must be afraid of me physically. It is a thought that never entered my head and it is true that I am much stronger and taller than my mother and other women, for whatever it’s worth.

Some time later, during my meditations, I was reminded of the fact that my mother used to beat me when I was still too young to defend myself. Got me thinking.

What if fear of women is – partly – just a residual fear leftover from days when women were still ones physical superiors?

01.04.2016

I saw a crazy screaming woman today – she reminded me of me

My first day as a free man in two months. I take a ride into the city to buy a cheap checkers game. On my way around the cathedral I hear a woman scream. A man is firmly holding a relatively attractive young woman’s two hands at a restaurant table. Let me go, she shouts. I wonder what it is about. I look at her hands; she has some kind of necklace wrapped around her fists.

I suspect she attacked the man and now she is getting what she asked for. Let me go, you asshole!

She looks around; a few somewhat amused people are watching. Help me! Help me, you cowards! Aah, you are hurting me! I feel mild shame, but I will not interfere in a situation I know nothing about. Besides, it is interesting to watch. In fact, it is interesting that there really seems nothing I can do without knowing what happened. Justice is a blind bitch.

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