I should have probably written this article Saturday, but as it happens I didn't get back until Sunday and I didn't sober up until Monday, which is today. What can you do ? All that's left is to discuss the past as if it were the present, which is silly but I'm told that's okay. We certainly wouldn't be the first and conceivably not the last to indulge in that particular bit of dirty thinking.
Anyway, went with hanbot to the only truly famous Costa Rican institution, in fact the ~only Costa Rican anything to achieve any degree of international renown : that fabledi Hotel Del Rey. I was there to play pokerii and she was there to check it out. I ended up playing tute ; she ended up tiring of the company of the local cowsies.iii Then we watched the fight, which takes us to
The first failure of the day :
Seriously now, if you're twenty something, if you've a mobile phone that's your lifelink, if you think you live in a "the world" which changed this inept dork was your representative. He lost just as you did. He went unprepared into a fight with a much older, long retired athlete ; and then failed to last ; and then swam around like a decapitated chicken until divine providence came to bury the dead. His story is your story, time to say goodnight.
While all that public drama was taking place live on showtime (between SPLC adverts, the tupeu on those slimy bastards!), a more private drama was unfolding in the obscurity of Del Rey's bar :
The second failure of the day :
mircea_popescu take today : so i was minding own business, owning casino at 5.5% edge table game of its choice / watching ancient dude from my generation hammer current dude, sort of eastwood vs edward norton fightoff. random whore somehow got aspirated by one of my girls, ended up sitting at our table, got drinks along with everyone else whenever rounds came. then the fight's over and she asks me what do we want to do. i dunno, whatever. at which point this chick, that's been throughout all subie, and very polite and everything points out that well, she's working. so i'm like... then go work, why are you hanging around here for ? she's totally blown away by this, so i explain to her that she's a nice girl and all, but... what, i look like i need to pay ?! in her brain the idea was that you know, she's been anointed by the she-earth-goddes, all she's gotta do in this life is sit there.vi she didn't get that idea from the locals. she got that idea interacting with the idiotic gringo retirees and watching cnn/twitter on her cellphone.
so, to bring the roundabout story to its natural close : i expect there's A LOT of gringa chicas who earnestly imagine they got personally an' speshully shat out of the earth goddess' cunt, and all they're here for is to sit their ass down somewhere. aura of +money auto-on, passive skill, like some strange sort of weird she-paladin. cuz what do they do when working ? sitting behind a counter somewhere ? that's what, 1/3 of them ? and otherwise, sitting behind... a receptionist desk somewhere ? other third of them ? and otherwise... sitting in an office somewhere ? 99% of females "in the workforce" are "making money while they sit". it might come as a shock then that you know... there's THINGS TO DO in this world. like, other than sitting. "oh, you mean like travel, ie sitting in an aeroplane for a marathon 10 hour session ?"
Consider the fact of the matter : some random 1.67vii tall blondy with an ugly tattoo of a girl's nameviii taking up most of the inside of her left arm got lucky enough to chat up hanbot. This is a chance in a million already, you're not going to run into ten hanbots in New York, and sure as fuck there's not one for every Akron, Ohio out there, let alone San Jose, Neverheardofit Rica.
But, in a mindblowing twist of fate, heaping impossible over improbable with both hands, the ~only billionaire in this world that's not completely senile but actually rather activeix happened to be in town, and sat down at her table because they're old friends. Picture young aspiring scientist asking to sit at Erdos' table one rainy day without nary a clue who Erdos is, because how would he, and then... who do you like ? Einstein ? Noether ? You can't have Euler, he was dead already. Anyway, battleship comes and sits down right in your cup of coffee. Wut do ?x
Think of all the starlets that there have ever been, waiting tables in LA mostly for the vague hope they'll maybe get anyone who's someone alone for five minutes. A million of them to date, most of them unsuccessful the whole time. So there you are, there you sit, hi mr Avi Arad, how are you. What next ?
I can fire missiles, comandeer airplanes, move boats around. Countless tons of materiel crisscross the globe every single day for my bidding, at my pleasure. None of it happens "because it just does". None of it is "a community decision". None of it has been decided from "on high"xi by some sort of "trusted" faceless bureaucracy. All of it happens because I say so, and for no other reason.
But why do I say so ? Why this way and not that way ? Why here and not there ? Clearly, I must follow some sort of thought process, I must have some reasons, some rationale, right ? And should that rationale change, should I discover different, better reasons, that'll mean changes in the flow of goods, in the maintenance of infrastructure, it will literally, and permanently alter the world. Perhaps one could live quite comfortably out of that differential ? A good reason for there rather than here, for that rather than this could perhaps be worth thousands, who knows, perhaps millions in discounted cash value ? Daring to dare beyond the bravest... if one were to make a habit of giving good reasons, of making correct calls that one might perhaps discover there's actually plenty of room at the top, that place where the decisions are made as to which way the rivers flow ?
Aspiring writer wants the big shot to read his treatment. That's what he's saying, that's his whole, concentrated life of the spirit : I got a reason! Please listen to it, I have it right here! Don't waste your resources doing it that way, do it this way, it's better! That's his story.
The aspiring starlet wants the big shot to just god damned sit put and pay attention to her for two god damned minutes, she's got a rationale to propose, an alteration should be made into the very fabric of existence so as to include her too. Should it be made ? Shouldn't it be made ? She'll never know on her own. Maybe.
So there you sit, and you get a sideways glance, and you have... nothing. Nothing. And you think, in your dumb head, that you're out whatever an hour's worth of your time, a quarter Bitcent, or less, or maybe slightly more. But in fact, in cold, unyielding factual reality, you're out your only chance. The only chance you were maybe going to ever get, and most girls never got and never will get. There it was, and there it left, and you'll go to your grave thinking "if only I had a chance", provided you're mentally active enough for that. Guess what ? You had.
You didn't know it at the time, but yes, you had it, and you drew blanks. It happens. In fact, it happens all the god damned time, that's the problem with potential, that it's so hard to evaluate opportunity costs. Khalid al-Walid stood on a field of battle one day. One day of a hundred days. Maybe to fight a large encounter, or a skirmish, or a two man duel. Khalid al-Walid won his confrontation that day ; for him to have won another must have lost. Could that nameless another have won instead ? Could al-Walid have lost or was he pre-ordained to win by the God of Reality Scripts ? What didn't the nameless notice, that'd have allowed him victory ? What did al-Walid see that any other, any one who wasn't Khalid al-Walid would have missed ?
But whatever, ticas, which is to say subhuman orc females, right ? What do they know ? What could you expect of them ? Which takes us right to
The third failure of the day : As I was saying, I played this "Caribbean Poker" thing. The way this works out in practice is that I sit down at the table, I push a hundred grandxii to the dealer who gives me chips. Then over the course of the following hour or two, however long I have the patience for, I watch my chip towers slowly but predictably grow, while I also watch a parade of literal deplorables, old white men in shorts and t-shirts, dropping their 10 or 20 thousand colones. Then they lose it. Then they drop another 10. Lose that. Drop another. Move on. Maybe comment on the girl that came to say hi, to me. You know, she's smoking hot. Maybe chat a little with the "favorita" ie working girl there to see if they're ready for another shearing yet. Generally, they're not. The beer's out, and it's time to go.
Not one of the dozens of muppets that day, or of the hundreds of muppets prior, not a single one noticed that I'm the only one winning at the table. It simply did not occur to them. Ever. There, in plain sight, plain as day, central to the activity they were supposedly engaging in. The most basic, the most fundamental item to be considered, the pons asinorum of meta gaming. Not. A. Single. One. Noticed.
I'm not talking about how they didn't immediately recognize the strategy on the basis of their cultural familiarity with the field of activity they were engaging in. These people recognize the casino stool as an item to be sat on, rather than bit or licked or whatever a three year old child might attempt ; yet these same people, in spite of their clear and evident aculturation and familiarity with the environment, nevertheless fail to recognize the fucking basics.
I'm not even talking about how they failed to imitate, uncomprehendingly, unrecognizingly, what I was doing. The gringos that voted Trump into office to Make Detroit Great Again for them don't even have that modicum of mental prowess that powers their sworn enemies, the pantsuits. They can't even monkey properly, these people! How am I to seriously mock random libertard for being an emulation of a monkey running on expensive sapiens sapiens hardware, when the "alternative" is actually dumber than that ?!
I'm not talking of any of these high falootin' things that'd be the tritest of basics in anyone with four years' schooling. No, none of that, nothing so far, so distant, so inconceivably accomplished. These people are incapable of even noticing they're not doing just as well as everyone else. I notice they don't notice, that's good and nice for me ; but they don't. Besides, how would they notice I noticed they didn't notice when they didn't notice in the first place ?xiii
As you can see, the problems run deep. It's not just some random guy on TV, wearing a three piece suit like some kind of Barnum ape. It's not just some stupid streetwalker, too dumb to find her way out of a paper bag, "would you like a dance ? would you like a dance ?" zombieing around. It's not just them.
It's actually you.———
- Fabled enough the story is some Chinese group bought it, to reopen it next year as a family-friendly downtown hotel. This rumour, though insistently repeated by shifty characters as a matter of present urgency has in fact followed the place every year for the past... at least fifteen. [↩]
- By which I mean Texas Hold'em. They have posters on the wall advertising a tournament, they insistently communicate and promote this supposed poker playing that goes on. I've yet to find an actual game.
The situation is vaguely reminescent of Argentina, what with the "great night life" that vaguely and generally exists but in practice always at a different time and in a different place and please don't ask anyone for concrete details kthx.
- Coincidentally she wore the same corset you saw at the last conference ; all the biobankrupt dorks around told me all about how great she looks. Considering she towers a good head above the collective head level of the males there assembled... the white males there assembled... yeah. [↩]
- I did not say impotent ; though Mayweather did say it in the ring. I don't mean implicitly, subtextually or whatever else such nonsense : the man pounded his own crotch while eyeing the redditard somewhere around the second round, with a very plain and clear "you ain't got it, yo" intension. [↩]
- He has his own name tattooed across his belly. In case he forgets who he is, get it ?
Off topic, as a sociological metric, you can track a chinese person's first level of alienation from his culture by his branding himself with English-word tattoos ; but you will know that all the chinese has been media powerwashed out of him when he starts getting Chinese character tattoos. "It's because I'm Chinese" he'd explain.
Right ? Dumbest generation of narcissists in the history of the world, the man said. That's the narcissistic point of view, however, it'd be flattering if they were best at something even if it were something like that. The sad fact of the matter ? They're not. [↩]
- Did I mention the strippers "dancing" btw ? O, yes I did. [↩]
- Generously. Generously 1.67, you hear me ? And yet she was, if not the tallest there outright, certainly in the top decile. [↩]
- Her daughter, she says.
Back in the 90s Romania, prostitution was not legal. It's not legal today, either. It was widely engaged in back then as it is today, by the same sort of people (all girls that are neither fucking ugly nor fucking stupid) and for the same reasons (and see footnote 2, also). As it happens, a girl here costs 80 or so while a girl there about five times that, which may seem a fundamental point and the important difference, to the naive.
We've travelled, we've seen the world, we notice things. Consequently, we know better than that. One of the things we notice is that none of the Romanian working girls have children, and if they do make children it's long after they're well secure in their retirement marriage. Meanwhile the Latina working girls all have children, and none live with, or even have any clue as to the whereabouts of the father.
The Latinas don't go into whoring because they're in high demand and have to somehow matchmake fixed supply against that overwhelming demand. That would be wrong. They're not capitalists over here, after all! That'd... also be wrong.
No, the Latinas "fall in love" with some schmucky kid in their school as preteens or early adolescents, get knocked up, have the baby, and then, then and only then go into whoring. Because they need to feed the baby. It's a forced thing, which they don't enjoy and at which they're therefore not any good, predictably enough.
You're asked to kindly pay for the empty dishes and dirty silverware leftover after a horde of monkeys ate the food and trashed the place, cigarette butt in the mashed potatoes y compris. What, the restaurant needs money to keep in business, you think this is all fun and games for the restaurant ? It's not, it has bills to pay, it can't spend an hour drinking your drinks while you chuckle at the notion. What do you mean she should have sold you the meal then ?! BUT THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN WRONG!
Which readily leads us into the second observation : all (and I do mean all, each and every one without exception!) working girls had a car. Not a single Latina hooker owns a car. It'd have been the superlative insult, implying either deep, beet-root red noobishness or else idiocy on the sanatorium level, for one girl to say of another "eh, she doesn't even own a car", back in the old country. They take the bus to "work" here, and it's the limiting factor in their life, they can't go places, gotta take the bus.
Can you even begin to comprehend the depths of idiocy, fuck for money not own a car ? What if the plumber showed up at your house late because he missed the bus ? What if the funeral parlour had a running arrangement with the local tram line, take two seats for a coffin (or more, they stack) whenever needed ?
Catholicism predicts poverty because it masquerades stupidity more convincingly than any known ideological system -- with the exception, of course, of all the "others" that are the same one. [↩]
- And effectual!
All sorts of dorks are active, say that dude whose name escapes me that jacked the price of all sorts of drugs. What did it accomplish ? What permanently changed because of him ?
What did he burn down, permanently and irrecuperably ?
So you see... it's not quite the same thing. [↩]
- Have you ever thought of this, by the way ? Or are your thoughts entirely consumed with stuff that comes much after ? On the basis of how fucking stupid this generation of stupid narcissists is, I entirely don't expect you ever have. Why worry about how to get there, right, all the fun's in figuring out what to do once there, from the point of view of one who's never been. Not like the getting's open to deliberate effort anyway, right ? Why bother even trying, pantsuit is all about impotence after all.
I can't imagine why you'd care, but let's nevertheless point out that the people who lived back when the US was going upwards rather than downwards did think about that ; and of nothing else. How to get there was the ~only concern of the kids back in the days when white worked. Somehow I don't think one old guy with a toupe is going to bring all that back though. [↩]
- As if there fucking was anything higher, for chrissakes! [↩]
- About what a decent meal costs, no more. [↩]
- I'll tell you why -- the only people I've ever seen this in are slavegirls. That's how. The holy education of the whip and chains. [↩]