ASi #1 : I'm running out of words to denote large groups of badly colored motherfuckers. "Nigger" I've repurposed to denote bureaucrats pretty much, "colored" as you can see is useful in many other contexts not related to these bad smelling mofos that can fill an entire house with soot just by taking a fart. Such as for instance "jade colored glasses". I hope you're happy with "negro" because we're running out of stereotypes and I ain't about to pretend they be jus' like white folks.
AS #2 : I should perhaps write about how a new openssl vulnerability has been found, and it only affects 1.0.1 through 1.0.1f so if you hadn't upgraded you're safe, but if you had upgraded you're thoroughly fucked because it exposes arbitrary client memoryii, but on one hand everyone knows the consumer Internet is made out of pressed shitboard and on the other I've already tweeted about this, and what's there to say past the 140th character ? Not like anyone capable of groking it is listening anyway. Or I should perhaps write about how the USG-Bitcoin cockroaches are having a hard time these days, but meh. It's been covered on irc already, and how long is one going to spend doing entomology on grubs ? (Hint : earthworms don't pupate ; they just eat shit and die.)
So Instead Of All That Crap We're Going To Do An Appreciation Of Nigger Speak Excursion And Also Spell All The Words Like It Were German Or Some Dubious Shit Like That For A Short intervaL. Therefore :
E.J. back there havin’ a starin’ contest with da sun, slowin’ down the whole pack… homeboy shoulda gone to Space Camp.
Mr. Cody of ghettohikes fame isiii a 28 yo guy employed full time at the job of leading "urban" kids on nature hikes and part-time at the hobby of writing down the shit they said. He pretends like "urban" is supposed to mean anything other than poor, and he claims "all races" as if the fact some poor kid and his 13 siblings are Hispanic somehow makes them less negro or some exotic shit like that.
Pretense aside, the guy's a sort of US (which is to say, lite) Danzig Baldaev, documenting the marks left on captive children by the chains of their captivity. I happen to think they're beautiful, quite in the art sense of that term : what else is art if not expressive pain ?
Mr. Cody, I ain’t no snitch or nuffin’ but Denny back there shovin’ colored rocks in his pockets. Homie lootin’ the forest!
You, the "civilised" you, or at least the castrated you (these two aren't all that different, not really) would say "with all due respect". That's your codeword for "I'm going to do something I shouldn't be doing but I wish to avoid the consequences of doing it anyway by stating that wish afore the fact". Because you know, reality is like magic and you're like a negro, only in a different color scheme. And definitely not poor.
Yo Mr. Cody, how many these mushrooms I gotta eat fo’ I Super Mario da fuck outta dis place?
Clearly the kid's happy there. Like you know, this chicken that's kept in captivity where chickens develop this inocuously named "vent pecking" behaviour. Do look it up, it's instructive.
So anyway, this chicken kept in captivity, where it's happy and everything, one day gets to exchange the everyday concrete confines of its existence for something - anything! - else. A large glass jar, say. And what the chicken wants to know is, how much glass it has to lick in order to die.
Because, you see, a) it's tried everything else available in the concrete confines. Every day. And also b) it's pretty much ready to do anything and doesn't even comprehend alterity in any other terms than "possible escape hatch". You know how thoroughly abused slave-prostitutesiv can't think of men walking down the street in any other terms than "money dispenser" ? Well, same difference. The only thing a stick, or flower, or mushroom could be is a golden ticket, and a butterfly flying by could at best serve as an indicium that such a golden ticket was perhaps recently found.
Me: This make any sense whatsoever to anyone ? "HEY! Mr. Cody say no more Jelly Bellys if you usin’ swear words. Holy shit! Yolanda got a pina colada bean!"
Intel: Yes. Jelly Bellies are this brand of jelly bean with a lot of flavors. Kid likes the pina colada one. The camp director guy was handing out jelly beans to the kids, but said they get no more if they keep swearing. But he's excited 'cause one girl got a pina colada so he goes 'holy shit' and no more beans for him, despite his reverent trying to STFU.
Me: Ok, translate this 1 : "I thought Lamar done snuck his puppy Jason on da trip, turns out that crazy ass just makin’ shadow puppets."
Intel: & translation: some kid thought another kid named Lamar had secretly brought his puppy, named Jason, along on the hike, because he was seeing dog-like shadows. However, Lamar was simply skilled at manipulating his hands so as to cast dog-like shadows, thus tricking the speaker.
Can you believe this shit ? I failed to comprehend what they said. Me! I had to enlist outside help so I could follow the conversation. ME! I'm outraged, my vanity is bleeding purple.
This is, you know, the fate of the squares, les vaches, the coppers of this world. They don't understand what in the bloody hells -----BEGIN PGP MESSAGE-----hQIMA8bZzs4WuOMuAQ//b+Ymeh9pulPxjUth76n8Iar0Zsm3AJfvjKfelFTtQjLf is supposed to mean. They. They. Not I! Not me!
The fuck is wrong with this world!
Them sheeps is funny lookin… Homie wearin’ a snuggie full time.
Hey, I’mma leave this cologne out for the animals. Help a brother get some pussy in the matin’ seasons.
Because, as pointed out for the benefit of my own slavegirls, the Western mind fails to understand animals as animals anymore, on account of all their experience consisting of various puppets strung up and voiced by men, either in cartoons or amusement parksvii. And so we have problems like
Mr Cody, you think I get in trouble if I shoot me one them extincted animals?
C'est la vie.
Mr. Cody, when you say dem swans mate for life, you mean like she good to go whenever… like one dem foreva stamps?
I will note that - no doubt on account of the kids young age - the expressivity of sexuality is weaker than what we've seen so far. Consider the much better BUG Mafia version : "nici macar nu trebuie s-o încalzesti, e pe benzina, poti direct sa o pornesti..." which roughly reads "you don't even have to warm her up [like the old Diesel engines], she can be used directly".
Yo Mr. Cody, this sleepin’ bag is feelin’ goooood. Feel like I’m kickin’ it wit a big ass loofa or some shit.
Is he - I mean, this motherfucker, is this motherfucker speaking of sexual intercourse with one of them fat black girls like they get ? Or is he speaking of the warm and comforting embrace of his mother ? Is the difference even comprehensible, as far as he's concerned ? Could you swear to the foregoing ?
If me and Jévon find a treasures chest out here, we makin’ the bus driver stop by the Coinstar. Cool?
When I’m old, I’mma open me up a t-shirt shop on top this mountain. Sell me some commemorative shit.
Rocks, sticks, rivers… Needa come out here with my fuckin’ art supplies, paint alllllll this beautiful shit.
The entrepreneurial spirit is not dead. For it ain't ever dyin', that's why. And also fuck you, Mr. Obama, because if he paints that forest he motherfucking made that forest. (If he eats those pizzas he even more fucking definitely made that forest. It needs dung you know ?)
Mr. Cody, DeLorean over there suckin’ on Teresa’s neck… blamin’ it on poison ivys.
He ain't be bein' a snitch or nuttin. He jus' be bein' a little bitch a lil' that's all.
Desmond done carved his name into da side of dis tree. Now peoples gonna think some Indian hieroglyphic shit went down.
Not everyone's an entrepreneur, either. Some kids, poor kids, "urban" kids are scholars, in nucet. They may not have my rare and expensive equipment, sure. But whether the BBC does manage to agree that climate pseudo-science should be promoted as "the only alternative" or not, my hopes rest with a bunch of inner city negroes. No matter what, these kids will still carry through the world the ability to reason, and that's quite good enough for me. Fuck the instruments, as great as they are : they'll make their own, and it'll be the same anyway, because there's exactly one way to make a great piece of lab equipment. The alternatives are only there to confound the issues. See, teh BBC got it right after all >D
Mr. Cody, how many magic lamps you think buried out herr? Homie got some wishes he need grantin’.
Do you mean to tell me, Katie Scarlett O'Hara, that Tara, that land doesn't mean anything to you? Why, land is the only thing in the world worth workin' for, worth fightin' for, worth dyin' for, because it's the only thing that lasts. And it'll grant you a wish or two, absolutely anything you wish, just as soon as they're both black.
A Whoopin’ Crane? I’mma throw this rock at it. Taxidermize that shit and put it in my den.
I wish I knew what "whoopin' crane" connoted to the speaker. Any guesses ? Perhaps some sort of winged whoppin' cough ?
Gerald stoled my Powerade and act’n like he didn’t. Over there wit a purple mustache. Motherfucka needa recreate me a drink.
Give the kid some rocks and nothing but, he's bound to re-create Hammurabi's code. See, it's not simply that he wishes for his drink back, nor does he want another drink instead. There's a point about entropy and thermodynamic flow buried in there somewhere. He'd get it out eventually.
Littabug Teesha throw her Frito bag on da ground. Uncle Sam gonna be fuckin’ piiiiissed!
You possibly never watch Dexter (the cartoons!) but there's an excellent episode of the filler act (Justice Friends) titled Uncle Sam. Not bad.
Mr. Cody, there’s an ass loada trees out here, I bet that Johnny Appleseed mother fucker went buck wild in this spot.
We can safely assume the kid doesn't use a sock.
Jamarcus mad cuz I change his facebook to say he like men and he can’t change it cuz this forest ain’t got no wifi.
Jamarcus should get online to check his privilege!
O wait, wrong demo. Nevermind me, old people tend to get the wood mixed up.
Mr. Cody, pacifically what you mean when you say there wild animals up in here?
Not exactly a bad question. And it's not as rare as you imagine, either, you just react to its "novelty" because it's uncomfortably common. What do most customer support requests over the phone reduce to other than "can you tell me how much I have to pay in the terms of how I don't have to pay anything ?"
Mr. Cody, you ever wanna just karate the shit outta summa these berry branches?
In so many words, yes.
This is kinda like eatin’ at the Rain Forest Cafe, huh Mr. Cody? ‘cept I can’t order no cheeseburger.
I wonder what the speaker'd think of a proper cheeseburger. Like the thing I paid ~45 2005viii dollars for, and then proceeded to eat with a knife and fork, much to the waitresses' delight.
Next time we out here, I’mma bring my gerbil, Terry. That motherfucka would be going ca-raaaaaaazy.
We out in nature dawg, ain’t no need to use dictionary words like ‘beverage.’
Mr. Cody, you should invent like a portable microwave. Go campin, heat up a pita pocket or some shit.
Hey! Somebody gimme some toast, this tree leakin’ Smuckers out the side.
This all reminds me of the fucktarded question some teacher asked us when I was about 12 or so, it went something like "And what's the utility of the Sun for us, children ?"
I fell over laughing and had to be excused. I laughed all the way home. I'm still laughing over this one. Seriously people, what's the utility of the Sun ? For us, like. You know, us, five doods somewhere invisibly on some planet that's not visible from the sun because of all the electromagnetic noise your camera makes while melting down.
Anyway, my poor parents had the job cut out for them to convince 12yo me that no, seriously, I should actually go back to the tribal hut that hosts the sort of people who ask the sort of questions. Because it's okay, they said, it's not the teacher's fault he was born stupid. He's tryin', let him be.
Yo Mr. Cody, how much you give me if I drink this puddle?
Perhaps... a Pina Colada jellybean chaser ?
Rebecca say she didn’t sneak no food? Musta been some amphibian crinklin’ a Cheeto bag outside.
Try this experiment, by the way : tell a set of kids, insistently, that they're not to sneak any food in. Explain why. Insist. Repeat.
Then strip naked everybody and weight / calorize the stuff snuck in. If you don't see at least a 4:1 margin favouring women, you're not dealing with a lot of black poor kids. It's more like 2:1 if they're white.
Seriously nao womenz! What is it with you! Ain't all that extra fat you get to carry enough ?
You should bring girls out here to nature, Mr. Cody. Sing Kumbaya or some shit and just watch the pants drop.
The point is valid, everyone who's never tried it before imagines sex in the bushes is a great idea. I know better.
I sits wherever I damn please, ain’t no assign seats up in this forest.
Technology has not yet progressed sufficiently to allow it, but check back often for the app.
I dun name dis hill D’Andre Mountain!
Hey, it worked when they dun named his mom's slavemaster "social service worker", why'd it not work when he names a molehill ? Oh, because he's a terrorist ? Mkay.
Crazy shit out here in da wild, feel likes i’mma catch diabetes or some shit.
Leprosy. Or is it Lupus ?
Hold up, I got crumbles all in my pack cuz I trip and fall on a saltine sleeve
I suppose this is perhaps how the Big Rock Candy Mountains were invented : kids kept not being allowed to sneak food into camp.
If my cousin Barry didn’t get his metal detector stoled we coulda brang it out here n’ found all sorts of treasures n’ shit.
The earth be like, ‘today i feel like makin a river.’ That’s just motherfuckin’ mother nature.
One of them's gonna be an industrialist, the other o' them's gonna be a priest. Just like in those 1960s family saga soap things.
Ok, dreamtime's over. They're both going to be convicts. You know it's true, that's just motherfuckin' uncle Sam.
I’mma take summa this waterfall water back to my girl and give it to her for her birthday. That bitch loves waterfalls.
I think that's the proper note to close this waterfall of an article. How you like waterfalls, bitches ?
Anyway, I was going to write something about the metaphorical use of language as contrasted to the syntactical, and how one's all about working to find compelling imagery that'll convey your point whereas the other just relies on filling in the forms, checking the boxes, doing the paperwork and trusting in "the language" to get your point across for you. And how rich lazy white people have come to favour the latter method to their detriment, and how other such things, but... fuck. I'm lazy, it's sunny outside, see y'all later.
PS. I crafted a waterfall in Rift. Should work.———
- It's like a PS, but afore rather than post. [↩]
- Or as Tor's arma explains :
Completely unmask the entire Tor network? Not anymore, since many relays have upgraded. But before the vulnerability was announced? Who knows.
A compromised website won't be a good place to launch an attack, since the Tor Browser shouldn't be affected by the bug, and the website doesn't interact with the Tor client at the link encryption layer.
But an entry guard (the first Tor relay you connect to) can potentially read client-side memory. See the 'clients' section above.
Aren't you glad you've been still using Tor, much after MP told you to gtfo, because whatever, you're just equal to MP except for those places where you know better, and besides who is MP that you should kowtow to him anyway!
Good for you, it's not like the NSA works more because stupid people than because math.
So now that you know they've exposed the SR owner through having read his client side memory using a variety of undisclosed 0day holes and then constructed a parallel explanation about how "social media accounts" and whatnot... what are you going to do the next time The Guardian and the rest of the propaganda machine publishes derpy "expert" opinions and other slag ? 'Cause I have like a suspicion you've got infinite hitpoints and everything. [↩]
- Was, coupla years ago ? [↩]
- The will of men to subject women is served at the lower end by the hour, or half hour. Either by women who are pressed into service, if the men in question are poor, or by women who are enticed into service, if the men in question are rich. Both these categories are called "prostitutes" but they couldn't be more different from each other. Then again the same language calls both women and men "people", as if there even were such a thing. [↩]
If Jackie T. get stung by a snake, who gunna suck out da poisons? That bitch smell like garbage water.
I’mma sneak one dem tadpoles in De’Shawn’s ingredients bag, or whateva you call it… trail mixers.
Quinton’s fat ass waaaay back there. Homie can’t keep his pants up. Tryna borrow a belt, I’m like nobody here wear size Equator!
Sharice’s big-ass feetprints make me think I done found the abdominal snow man.
We thought Tina C. was ova there havin’ a azzma attack, but she just chokin’ on tree bark.
etc. It's "simply mean" to you and me, because we don't live in any sort of community with Jackie T or Tina C. or Sharice, and so the mechanisms required by that community to function, and create its pecking order, and limit and control the members are of no interest to us. But otherwise it's politics, in no way different from any other, and scholarly regarding the matter we may stop to observe the concerns are in fact well expressed and the communication is in fact efficient and effectual as constructed. Which happens to be the criteria. [↩]
- Apparently nobody tells ghetto kids anything about snipes, and so all that humor you recall from your own childhood is directly translated.
As an aside, story time. There was once a time fox was hunted this side of the Carpathians, and that hunt consisted mostly of a bunch of people lined up for boar hunting (which is a crop pest) and the hounds accidentally scaring a fox into the hunter's line of sight. Getting a boar is kind-of difficult, but not really, because it charges all about and you're supposed to hit it in the heart, which is in its chest, which it readily displays. It's incredibly difficult to get a fox however, because that snipe slinks.
And so one day, the entire party, three dozen or so men, shot nothing at all, for apparently the boar attacks reported by the farmers were either imagined or theft (Likely imagined, to justify the not meeting of 5 year plans, it's an entire story). Until one unfortunate, skinny fox showed up, likely driven out of its hole by all the infernal racket. And the noobliest, most recent and thus lowest member of the manpack shot it dead. One shot. Bang.
Jade with envy and just in sheer frustration of the general situation, the rest of the hunters persuaded the pifan that the only proper way to bring the fox back was by balancing it over his shoulders, like a sort of still-live shawl.
You've probably never been hunting, but even so : you perhaps imagine that wild beasts carry various parasites, such as fleas. You perhaps also imagine that those parasites aren't married to the corpse, so to speak, and don't tend to stick around once the host gets cold. On the contrary, they tend to move.
And so that poor guy had, as the Russians say, also some problems. [↩]
- The proper quote is in the discussion following the famous slaughter of the rabbit, that aptly named Peripatetician-like, except bare cunt rather than in a toga, in the house rather than in the garden but otherwise absolutely allthesame. discussion. It goes like this :
You represent animals not on the basis of interaction with animals, but on the basis of interaction with representations of animals made by humans. Such as for instance animals drawn by a man in a storybook, cartoons depicting animals drawn to look human, men dressed as animals in plush costumes and so forth. All these create the false but entrenched impression that animals are, residually, a sort of humans. This is not true. Animals are not at all a sort of humans with different traits. Animals are animals, it is a thing in itself not some sort of cutesy antropomorphised version thereof. Fundamentally speaking, we could represent this problem by calling you a furry.
That's right : inasmuch as you've not been hunting, which is to say hang out in a ditch for hours on end - QUIETLY - to shoot an animal, and then actually managing to do it! Inasmuch as you've not twisted the neck of fowl and then plucked it in hot water, inasmuch as all you've seen is domesticated you are, basically, a furry. You grossly misrepresent what animals are, whether you actually fuck them is not in any sense the point. You do think you're one, inasmuch as you think they're you.
And this is incidentally why the furries are going to win : for the same reason the faggots won, for the same reason the pedophiles will, in 2050 or whenever, wield all the politically relevant, highly organised and highly hypocritical power faggots wield today. That reason is the agglomeration of people, who constantly push everyone out of resources.
Think of a locust swarm to understand this problem : as an isolated occurence, a locust interacts mostly with grass. As the population grows, a locust interacts mostly with grass, but also with other locusts. As the population swarms, some locusts in a very thin layer at the outside interact with some grass some of the time, but the vast majority of locusts only interact... with other locusts. And then they want to know how much dried ear do they have to eat to Super Mario da fuck out of that place.
The other, even sadder problem displayed by that quote is the following : even if you have yet to manage to exterminate all an animals, you did manage to meta-exterminate them. You've not killed them physically, which happens to be all they care about (being animals), but you did manage to kill them as a possibility, as something to be. Pretty gross, imo. [↩]
- 2005 dollars are somewhat weaker than 1995 dollars, as illustrated by the following quote coming from a man with fifteen hundred dollars in a gangster roll in his pocket :
That's a pretty fucking good milkshake. I don't know if it's worth five dollars but it's pretty fucking good.
But even so, they're a helluva lot stronger than 2015 dollars, I can tell you that. And it ain't even 2015 yet! [↩]