Regulation for our lord Regulos
In Rift, the archenemy of all players is this mysterious lord Regulos, which supposedly wreaked all sorts of havoc on the world in a distant past, got sealed in a can and is about to come back. Lots of NPCs peppered all over use strings such as "Souls for our lord Regulos!" or "Regulos will consume the world!" as a replacement for "...but then I took an arrow to the knee".
Regulation would, of coursei, be the main empire of their lord Regulos, who is being brought about by bureaucratically blind, bureaucratically fanatic zealots. Or so the game says. Incidentally : is this a lizzard, I wonder ?
But let us leave this aside for just one moment, and speak of something else. The God given, inalienable right of any man with an erection to use to his satisfaction any hole on any living being nearby, including animals, children of any age and any women at all, plus any men either not strong or quick enough was (mostlyii ) regulated away out of practical existence by the Greeks, roughly three millenia ago. The God given right of anyone angry to strike down and therefore smite any being or thing that caused his anger was also regulated away out of practical existence, mostly by the English common lawiii. The God given right to own other people was regulated away mostly by the USiv relatively recently, and the God given right to own property at all was regulated away by the Soviets not quite a century ago yet, and from there it spread all over everywhere.v
As you can see, regulation is definitely spreading, or should I say progressing, in the "your neoplasm is progressing and so your prognosis is in the shitter" sense of that term. Given this, it perhaps stands to reason to inquire what's next ? But before we inquire what's next, let us inquire why does it spread, so we may form a model of what to expect.
Principally, regulation seeps in where people don't care. As the nomadic Greeks became more settled, the passions and lusts of the herd of men running into the herd of women gave way to matrimonial complacency. Nobody with a fridge full of tuna at home gulps down stray tilapia, and nobody with a clue about cultivating the land could end up with anything but a fridgeful of tuna. Problem solved... and therefore... liberty abridged. Nobody cares about the liberties "nobody" uses, and certainly nobody sees why load bearing pillars that don't serve any useful picture-hanging purpose should be maintained.
As the herd of Europeans became more dense, arms and violence became enough of a problem, and besides, who's going to go grab a hammer and bash his neighbour's skull in with it ? What will you tell the widow during all the awkward Winter nights subsequentvi ? Slowly but surely it was taken away, to be the priviledge of the king, who has nobody to fight with anyway. And then, as everyone became incredibly copacetic as a result of this billateral testicular resection, everyone became poor. What is the use of property when nobody has anything ? Off with it. Let the state own "everything" and from this supposed bounty let the state pay us everything we want. Or need. Or whatever it can. Just stop bothering us, the people.
And here we are. So then, what's next ? Well... what do people no longer do ?
Consider the Japanese. They no longer fuck, and definitely no longer date. Too much hassle, too gooey, the video representations of harems of girlfriends expertly and artfully tailored to male taste work a lot better for your average otaku than any deranged Japanese female ever could. She's in desperate need of male directionvii he's in desperate need of being left the fuck alone. What's to do ? Obviously the government will have to step in and create the tentacle rape simulators for boys and the functional impregnators for girls so the country that survived the bomb may survive disinterest too. Let's hope it will.
Consider your fellow man. Four kids, oddly dressed, sitting in front of synthetically produced food and drink, futzing with their plastic. They don't talk, they don't look up, they're sharing a meal.
Obviously the next step is curfews. You will need a permit to get out of the house, which - at least originally - you can have for any good cause. Such as for instance renting a new apartment to live in, for as long as such horrible imposition upon your special snowflakeness may continue to be still needed. I have faith that a well run, competent government may soon resolve this problem, much in the way it solved the inconvenient problem of choosing what you eat. You can go to half a dozen "different" government-run chains and eat exactly the same thing - a mass spectrometer would never know the difference. And besides, all this housing nonsense breeds inequality, and is really not very rationally built up. For instance : why should each house include kids' playrooms, when a) the kids could much better, safer and civilisedlier play in special, government-sponsored playplaces and b) they're being parented by social workers anyway, seeing how social workers can exclude parents from parenting the kids but the parents can't exclude the social workers from the same. Ownership is still judged by who can destroy the thing in question, you know ?
Curfews, baby. I hope along your cases of bullets for a gun you'll never useviii and all the saltines or whatever the hell you're storing you have a special compartment full of curfew permits. You'll need them.
That and a huge big painting of the blue of the sky.
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PS. Unrelated to absolutely anything, except this whole thing, entirely : when I started blogging five years ago, I wrote coupla hundred word articles, which were "lengthy" by the standards of the space at the time. This grew sharply to about five hundred, and stabilised there for a year or two, after which it expanded to about a thousand, and stabilised there for a year or two. Recently, in the past weeks, I started shitting these five thousand word monstrosities through the same process I always used to write articles (I dream them). What will become of me, dear reader!
What if one day I cross the event horizon and fail to finish an article by the time I fall asleep on the keyboard and dream up an entirely new one ? There's only about 1.5k minutes in a day, there's only about 100 words a minute or so coming out of human hands. What shall I do the first time I dream a 200k word one ? PLEASE HELP ME———
- To better understand the verb "to regulate" and its derivatives, allow me to transcribe this ancient Romanian joke, heritage from the gold old days when Romania was a few years ahead of the US on exactly the same path :
S-a facut un experiment, au fost izolate niste grupuri constituite din cate doi barbati si o femeie, fiecare grup apartinand cate unei tari. Adica, doi francezi si-o frantuzoaica, doi englezi si-o englezoaica, doi rusi si-o rusoaica...
Grupurile astea au fost lasate in izolare o noapte intreaga, iar a doua zi oamenii de stiinta care initiasera experimentul au trecut pe la fiecare casa pentru a afla ce se intamplase.
In casa englezilor era liniste si pace. Cucoana le-a explicat savantilor ca domnii nefiindu-i prezentati, n-au putut din pacate sa intre in vorba, ceea ce a fost per total destul de plicticos.
In casa francezilor, mare dezordine. Demoazela, fumind goala, a explicat ca petrecuse de pomina in compania lui Francois si Pierre. Sau era Pierre si Francois ? In fine...
In casa rusilor, mare tristete. Femeia avea cearcane si vinatai, o atitudine dezumflata si nici nu curgea apa.
"Cum ati petrecut noaptea ?" au intrebat-o oamenii de stiinta.
"Cum s-o petrec", a raspuns femeia, posaca, "toata noaptea m-au regulat cu randul, iar dimineata au facut sedinta de partid si m-au pus sa-mi fac autocritica, pe motiv ca sunt curva."
This would go something like :
For science, groups of two men and a woman coming from various cultures were isolated for one night, and in the morning subjected to an interview.
The house of the English was quiet. The lady explained to the scientists that the gentlemen not having been introduced to her, it was sadly impossible to exchange a word, which made for a pretty boring evening.
The house of the French was overturned. The demoiselle, smoking naked, explained that she had the time of her life with Francois and Pierre. Or was it Pierre and Francois ? Enfin...
The house of the Russians was quite sad. The woman had eye rings and bruises, a distraught air about her and water wasn't running on the tap.
"How did you spend the night ?" asked the experimenters.
"How do you think..." the woman answered, unhappily, "they fucked me the whole night, and in the morning they held a party meeting and made me present my self-criticism on the grounds that I'm a whore."
The contention of this footnote isn't merely that in Romanian "a regula" means "to fuck" and "m-au regulat" means "they fucked me" and so on. The contention of this footnote is that those words mean exactly the same in English, too, much like the ocean is salty and the sky blue in both languages. Because that's what this "regulation" dohickey is and does, it has nothing to do with linguistic convention and everything to do with the reality subiacent.
Footnote to the footnote : subiacent means "which lies beneath", foundationally as it were. The functioning of that last word in that last phrase is exactly the same as of "emergent" in "The solution proposed has no relation to the situation emergent", harking back to a day when
Chineseoops I mean English still had grammar and allowed the possibility of literacy, back before the US people got their paws on it and adapted it to the needs of commerce and the breadth of their political horizon. [↩]
- If you believe that the US Civil War was fought over slavery, then by that token you are bound to also believe that the right to fuck other men's women was the chief contention of the Trojan war (and the right to take other mens' daughters was also enshrined by the conspicuously absent Sabine war).
Sounds a little silly, doesn't it ? That's the problem with coherence : once you decide to believe any one foolish thing coherence then forces you to make a fool of yourself on whatever terms any bystander proposes. Sort of like Acworth's girls, once you're naked you're screwed.
But let's not get distracted : the aforementioned right was so well grounded in the psyche of mankind (an inclusive term which also refers to women, children of any age and any also I suppose any nearby goats) that the ban did not outlive the power to enforce it. In short : in spite of considerable effort then and hence, the notion of using any living thing's hole to sexually relieve yourself never quite became immoral, or to use legal jargon malum in se. Sure, a majority of people will claim otherwise, but that's not really good enough. If it's not all the people all the time, in the way all the people all the time agree government sucks, then it's not really either immoral (as government is immoral) nor is it really malum in se (as government is evil in and of itself). And it will never be all the people all the time, because the brain is made a certain way to serve a certain purpose, and the thought processes of the horny differ significantly from the thought processes of the English. Just in case you were wondering why "education" seems to do jack shit for the "dangerous sexual practices" problem.
In practice this tension yielded a number of results. One is that all Greek kids of any import had golden hoops and balls around their necks, to signify to the would-be rapist that the child's father is probably going to mess him up, and so he'd be better served using a different child, or otherwise this one less roughly. And no, I'm not making this shit up.
Another is that goats, as well as women, had to now be penned up. The mechanism that causes this is particularly instructive, so let's examine it. In the original phase, where being fucked is just what naturally happens to women irrespective of whom they're attached to, any act of copulation is without any social consequence. This means that the woman can just wash and go about her business, but it importantly also means her husband need not give a shit. Once the aboriginal state is replaced with this progressed situation where sex without the woman's (an inclusive term, denoting women, men and children as well as livestock and unfortunate small birds taped up, in a word : anything with a practicable orifice) consent brands her fucker as an attacker, things change. First and foremost, society, personified as the husband, his family (including her own children!) and generally all sorts of public officers (such as cops, and doctors, and judges, and the lawyers for the defense, and the people the producers hired to buy the movie options) now have to put her to the question : was it with her consent or without ?
Well... the God's honest truth of the matter is that while most women know the answer, plenty would rather not be asked. Be that as it may, the question burns and must have an answer, for if it was with her consent then it is HER crime, whereas if it was without then it is HIS (or both theirs, depending). In either case, the husband has been wronged, and what was a pretty calm and copacetic primitive village has now turned into a Moor pirate encampment, patrolled by angry men in mustachios, complex cutlery hanging from their belt, wanting to know if you mislooked at their women. This has been the direct effect of the Greek innovation, and most of Europe was still having trouble coming to terms with it five centuries ago. Heck, most of the Caucasus still does.
In practical terms however, you can either be the guy that pens his women and goats (and adds gold hoops to all your kids), in which case the unwelcome advances of horny men will pound on a narrower base of hapless victims, or you can be the guy that can't afford to pen and hoop, in which case fuck you too. It can definitely not be the case that you just don't care, not anymore. Nor can it really be the case that you got better shit to do, and definitely it can't be the case that not even goats are happy in a pen, let alone women. That part goes without saying.
Obviously all civilisation, up to and including deposits on diamond rings and quests for promotion fundamentally stems from the need to be a real man that can afford pens and hoops, and thus not be the public house of the village. That may be good. It is certainly also incredibly inconvenient, and what's more important : it's quite inhumane. Especially the penning part.
Modern days propose an alternative to penning which consists of "educating" - yes, of course, if it don't work keep doing it, the very definition of contemporaneous insanity - the men to stop being horny. Which works, of course, and has a price, of course. What is that price ? Please do not ask, for you are not ready to yet hear. Anyway, to get out of this by way of an incidental : Obama's proposed solution to the structurally very similar problem of insurance is not to add pens and hoops to the equation, warding the evil upon the others, less wealthy, less strong, less powerful, but exactly opposite to that : no children may wear gold hoops around their necks, so if there's a rapist all children have equal chances to being raped, which through dilluting the rapes per capita improves the overall sexual health of all children. That's Obamacare in a word, and that's exactly why you think it stinks, too.
Footnote to the footnote : Being "put to the question" (I can only envisage this read with a very heavy Castillian accent) is a transparent reference to a Medieval method of torture, consisting of pouring bukkets of cum into the mouth of a restrained Madame de Brinvilliers. This you probably know. What I wish to underline is the extreme importance of literacy : if it weren't the case I could rely on you knowing that I am making that reference, I would have had to make this footnote to a footnote in earnest, which is to say that when confronted with an illiterate readership the complexity of notation evolves past the threshold of anything one could be bothered to write, and definitely past the threshold of what one could at all read. So, what's the importance of having read a lot of books ? Why, quite simply, that people who don't know you find it worthwhile to talk to you. Websites don't count (with perhaps one or two exceptions). [↩]
- Fun fact : up until very recently you could kill your husband or wife in France on the grounds that they drove you fucking nuts and end up with a warning instead of jail time. And a little before that pregnant women had the legal right to shoplift. [↩]
- Somehow this did not really need much regulation in Europe, which I suppose is the net effect of the experience of the hundred years' war as well as constant Mediterranean piracy. [↩]
- The definition of "ownership" still is "he owns who can destroy". In this proper sense nobody has owned any currency since about the war, seeing how if you burn some government-issued tokens they just print them back and that's all, you've destroyed nothing. Nobody has owned any real estate, seeing how you're required to get a permit from the real owner to tear it down, and you're definitely not going to get a permit to salt it. And as a bonus, nobody owns any cars in the US state of Ohio, either, on the grounds that you may not bring any alterations to your supposed "property". [↩]
- Like subiacent, you recall. [↩]
- Yes, this is a thing, the chief formative force in women's lives, like it or not. [↩]
- Anyone can learn to fire a rifle. Most anyone can learn to take it apart and put it back together properly. Few people can learn to shoot - which means, right in between the eyes, with no hesitation and no consideration given. [↩]
Wednesday, 25 December 2013
Hot Single Girls in Acworth
Big Girls Catering, 5742 Goldfield Dr, Acworth, GA
Wednesday, 25 December 2013
Peter Acworth, the kink.com guy.
Wednesday, 25 December 2013
dude did I seriously just read a footnote's footnote explaining that if I didn't get the footnote's reference the footnote to the footnote would have to be a real footnote to the footnote? YO DAWG!!
Wednesday, 25 December 2013
Welcome to the deep side. We have footnotes.
Monday, 11 May 2020
You're pretty fucking cool, you know that? Not like "hey man, nice hair" cool, more like hang out with Cthulhu cool.
Monday, 11 May 2020
Yeah, I know.