Children love to watch their parents get into serious arguments because they'll hear for the first time of things they never could have guessed ever existed

I watched ten minutes of a miserable piece of cinematic vomit, same tired regurgitation of the spinster wankery. I won't bother mentioning it by name, because it's literally obscene to the point of unmentionability, and certainly anodyne to the point of anonymity. Suffice to say it was as decent apotheosis as could be had for that Susan Sarandon stupid cunt.

Instead, let us provide the titular material in the shape of a recent discussion between yours truly, a Lord of The Most Serene Republic no less, and one Darius Groza, the Prince of Jeg. You, evidently, have never heard of such a thing, nor would you have. But I know him, and the reason I know him is that back in 2007 he actually was writing better than me. Scary thought, this, is it.

Of course, back in 2007 I didn't bother with a blog at all. The reason I started is to be found caught in the public record. I affirm it today, it's still true, and complete, and not about to get a coda. Nevertheless the reason I continued was, in some part -- however minuscule you might argue it nevertheless not entirely absentⁱ -- there being such a thing as jeg✿.

In this sense, the obscure toil of some guy that meanwhile got dekulakized by the passage of time is nevertheless preserved, and forever a part of that world which breathes, and whose continued existence is in point of fact the reason (however minuscule you might try to argue it, yet always present), the only reason you even get out of bed in the morning. If you're any good, that is. If you have any business being here in the first place.

And so it came to pass that lo, we meet a decade later, and we have unkind things to say to each other, as only our priviledge it is to do. But you nevertheless get to read! No part of this discussion whatsoever as you may be, dad had a cat, mom had a boyfriend, wonders of the before-times.

Septembrie 7, 2017 la 10:48 Mircea Popescu zice ca:ⁱⁱ

Pfoai da’ ce distractie ie pe-aici cu inlocuirechestii.blogshit astia + marians.

Mai bine te lasai de dizain cacaturi si scriai pe blog serios, Dariuse. Ca din ce cacaturi ai tot dizainat tu zece ani nici nu ramine nimic nici nu conteaza nimic nici nu o intersat si nici n-o sa intereseze pe nimneni nic. La blog macar aveai talent.

Da’ mnoa, asta este, tineretea-i izidita pe tineri si aia zece ani oricum nu ti-i mai da nime-napoi.

Septembrie 7, 2017 la 12:18 Darius Groza zice ca:ⁱⁱⁱ

Păi, până nu mă plăteşti în bitcenţ’ pentru ce scriu, poa’ să-ţi tacă fleanca constructiv.

Nu fac design numa’ de pasiune, deci de aia e prost. Te-ai documentat oricum greşit.

Altfel, nu-mi dă nime’ tinereţea înapoi, dar mă pensionez mai repede – şi poate mă apuc de blogging consistent iară, până atunci va fi foarte old-school, ca mine, şi nişat, ca tine. O să fim doar noi doi şi amintirea lui Biblel.

Septembrie 7, 2017 la 17:44 Mircea Popescu zice ca: ^iv

Da mei, pina erau trei la zece mii nu erau buni, acuma c-o plecat trenu’ sa te platesc eu in ei, vezi unde duc pasiunile pulii si notiunea vecina cu imbecilitatea crasa ca “omu’ ie liber sa faca alegeri pentru iel” etcetera ? Da’ macar esti consecvent, imi zici tu mie ce sa fac ca mnoa, cine plm ii sef pe lumea asta, cine face si desface atit in pat cit si la bucatarie etcetera. Dupa dulceata de nuci te omori macar ?

Ce nu vorbesti si tu cu normalitatea aia de doi lei care auzi draga c-o tine lumea-n loc pe motiv ca nu are ea, lumea adica, nici o competenta. Ca daca avea lumea vre-o competenta si n-o tinea pe Mama Omida cea Sistemica a Socialismului in loc cine stie ce avioane construiau marx-engels-ziggler astia pe-aici. Trimite-i asa o scrisorica ca pe vremea lu’ cind erai mic si prost si scriai la Mos Statu’-Gerila, scrie-i si-acuma, “Tanti Marea Pizda Din Cer A Socialismului Glorios, da si la mandea un Bitcoin ceva”.

Sau ma rog, pensioneaza-te tu linistit, fix aia e tata chestia, la tinerete tot prostu’ crede ca stie el ce-i gresit si pe urma se poate pensiona cu corectitudinile lui stupizele cu tot, sta acolo si se spala cu ele pe cap. Macar l-o batut pe Hitler si o salvat globalwarmingu’, ce pielea.

Septembrie 7, 2017 la 18:21 Darius Groza zice ca:^v

Nu-nţeleg ce pula mea tot boscorodeşti tu acolo şi nici măcar blockchain wallet n-am (dacă aşa îi zice), deşi nu cred c-am refuzat vreodată bitcoinşi, exceptând că n-am unde-i pune.

Măcar m-oi uita la filmul ăla românesc. Altfel, boule.

Septembrie 7, 2017 la 18:42 Mircea Popescu zice ca:

Just.

I don't expect I've done a very good job of translating the thing, partly because his Romanian is nigh-on as tense as mine, partly because the problems of translating Romanian rapidly explode in complexity through metasintaxis, because the language admits coding not just through word meaning, and not just through phrase topic and praxis, but outright through layers of layers on top of that, and there's no English that could ever carry the implied subtext of "Altfel, boule" for instance. You'd have to have read the same texts of the same actual language, which can't happen anymore. It used to happen regularly before the Bologna system, Romanian colleges would produce kids who, inexplicably, could code and decode on any such level of complexity. But, inexplicably, for reasons nobody could have predicted, lumea s-a schimbat. You think it may have anything to do with picking a random ape from the zoo and telling it it's "The President" now ? Rome did fine with Incitatus the Senator, why'd anything be hurt by Bahamas the President ?

Anyway. As the old saying goes...

1. I have a serious problem maintaining interest in topics, fields or areas which consist entirely of idiots. If there's nobody defensible at the table I will stand up and leave, and it makes little difference whether it's an actual table or a metaphorical one. But back in the early part of the decade there were a few actual minds involved in this activity, in the language in question. His was easily the foremost of the lot. [↩]
2. MP says that :

   Whoa what fun around here with the spam links (he used to have a very lively, if not very diverse, comment section back in the day -- it went away, to be replaced by the copacetic productions of manual spammers) and idiots (Marian S, famous undauntable imbecile of the Romanian online world).

   You'd have been better off giving up the design of shits and blogging full time, Darius (guy's name is Darius, Romanian has vocative hence Dariuse). Among all those shits you designified a decade there's nothing left, nothing that matters, nothing that has or ever had interested anyone. You had talent for a blogger.

   But whatever, such it is, youth is wasted on the young and that decade nobody's going to give back to you anyway. [↩]

3. Well... until you pay me Bitcents for what I write, you could also shut up constructively.

   I don't do design out of passion alone, which is why it sucks. But you're misinformed anyway.

   Otherwise, nobody'll give my youth back to me, but I'll retire sooner -- and maybe start blogging more consistently again. Until then it'll be very old-school, in my case, or directed, like in your case. It'll be just us two and the memory of Biblel. [↩]

4. Yes dawg, back when they went three to ten thousand (ancient peddler call in Romanian, 3 to 10k, at a time 10k were roughly 30 cents) they were no good, now that the boat sailed you want me to pay you in 'em, see where dick's "passions" and the notion akin to sheer imbecility that "man is free to make his own choices" leads one ? But at least you're consistent, telling me what to do because hey, who the fuck's da boss in this world, who does and undoes in bedroom and kitchen etcetera. At least do you die for walnut sorbet ?

   Why don't you talk to that penny ante normalcy of which I hear society is not fit to participate in (substance of his article, very much a rehash of the ridiculous pinnacle of east German socialism that resulted in the "ein anderes" retort), because were society any fitter who knows what airplanes these marx-engels-zigglers'd have built by now! Send it a little letter, you know, like back in the day you were stupid for reason of being new, writing to Ded Союз-Moroz (it only rhymes in Russian, ha-HA!), write now too, "Ma'am Great Cunt In The Sky Of Glorious Socialism, gimme a Bitcoin wut!"

   Or I guess retire like you plan to, that's the whole spiel, while young every bovine imagines he knows wrong from right and then he can retire with his silly correctnesses, to sit there and wash his head with them. At least he beat up Hitler and saved the globalwarming, what the fuck (I am particularly incensed by the slow seepage of pantsuit nonsense into his prose -- no, women don't make 25% less money than men because of anything to do with anything other than their being systematically overpaid). [↩]

5. I don't understand what the fuck you're on about (I also find it hard to understand the things I don't want to understand. Don't you ?) and I don't even have a blockchain wallet (if that's what it's called), though I don't think I ever refused Bitcoin should it have fallen from the sky (except for not having where to keep it).

   At least I'll watch that Romanian film. Otherwise, fuck you. [↩]