Do you know why they're just so damn awkward ? I only ask because I finally figured it out!

Friday, 27 December, Year 11 d.Tr. | Author: Mircea Popescu

So, we were harem-rewatchingi Vacation, because apparently no slut ever fucking saw this thing on her own power in her past life, notwithstanding it is the pre-eminent example of the light comedy genre all of them chiefly favour (and a thick majority even imagine that one sad, marginal genre is what Cinema even is, altogether!). Talk about failure of the femstate, huh!ii

There's a scene in there, where the pantsuit cuck goes over the latest iteration of reality distortion they came up with, to fight you know, toxic facts and the evil patriarchy : they had all their shit stolen, and they're naked and covered in excrement because... they don't remember. They show up at their inlaws' door, where...

I could ask, "what happens there", but what happens is very much not the point. What doesn't happen is entirely the point.

Suppose... well, that dork could never ring my doorbell, if he were connected closely enough to even know which the fuck doorbell it is he'd have been shot in the face and left for dead in a ditch many years prior to the event. But suppose a gaggle of young & inept sluts showed up at my door in that state. What would happen then ?

Obviously, a lengthy, drawn out Inquisition : to establish what exactly had happened, and how exactly, and why, and wherefore, dragged out over days, weeks maybe -- all this with, transparently, a view at making sure no possible angle of mocking the shit out of them, for many years to come is missed out on. The story'd be picked at all the seams over consecutive passes of the infinity machine until there was certainly no pocket of mockery base left unvented. Because that's how you do things -- if you know what you're doing, at least.

Meanwhile, you know what they do ? Well, they don't do anything, obviously, but here's what they don't do : they don't look at you in traffic. You know why they don't look at you in traffic ?

Because if they look at you therefore you automatically get right of way.

That's the contorted logic of pantsuitism : acknowledging the other also comes, fusedly indistinctly, with what's now an obligation -- they're so fucking selfless, by the insane code of their bizarro religion that shuns its proper name, they're so fucking perfectly idiotic, that merely acknowledging the other now means they must also let them pass ; whereas pointedly not acknowledging what's right in front of them is supposed to "send a message", you see -- the other is supposed to know what the fuck they're doing, and rather than be weirded out by the weird fucks, simply not cut in. That's the intended meaning of insane behaviour -- the carving of a space for the self.

Now look at it : the reason the people opening the door don't inquire with the people covered in shit is simply... refinement. The pinnacle of pantsuitist civilisation, this right here : so afraid are they in the house of ending up having to take ownershit of they covered in sheep... wait, that came out wrong. So afraidiii are they in the house of ending up stuck owning they covered in shit, they simply... right ?

That's why they're so fucking awkward : they're deeply, and quite genuinely worried they might end up having to own things. And you thought the niggers were liberated from their masters!

It was the other way around, yo.

———
  1. My phd-level class on Cultural History of Cinema, as applied work on Literary Criticism, The Theory of Representation and Contemporary Philosophy is something the fuck else -- as one of the nude sluts involved once remarked, "simply filming this bed would make a better film than most of these things even hoped to ever be". It's true ; but I also ain't about to. []
  2. Leave alone how they can't ever seem to find anything useful by using their oh-so-useful (not to mention "only available") femtools ; leave alone how they're stuck eating shit in lieu of any kind of actual work even vaguely capable of being suspected fit for humans. Leave all that alone and confront the cold idiocy of it : they're this herd of shit eaters and vomit guzzlers who, after being done with a patch of shit or a bucket of vomit, have also left behind, untouched, unfound, the best corn kernels / whatever edible tidbits they were looking for in the first place! It's one thing to suck down latrines in lieu of cooking and eating ; but it's another god damned thing to suck down the shit around the kernels, leaving the better ones behind! Not even escherichia coli is quite this fucking stupid -- nor could it be, of course. Stupidity of this sterling quality requires quite a whole lot of intelligence to be constructed in the first place. []
  3. Why the fuck do you spell it "afraid" when it's "affray" ? Are you fucking stupid ? []
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One Response

  1. [...] in the "den", fantasizing about her in the company of his fantasms, hallucinated "others", but others-lite, others-bearable, others dull and tiresome and made of endless simplicity like in the good old days [...]

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