Prague comes for you all!

Wednesday, 23 October, Year 11 d.Tr. | Author: Mircea Popescu

Do you remember the Baldur's Gate dual wielding melee dwarf ? "Death comes for you all!!!" ? I do, hence the title.

In other shoutouts : Wohnout is pretty good, czeck them out!

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Above : Vaguely Nazi-reminiscent stylistic, don't you find ? Because yes, unlike the retarded runt, both German and Russian socialisms yielded actual art trees (even though the Russkis thoroughly cannibalized theirs as part of the First War of Soviet Succession).i

Below : entrance to house of horrors ; after the experience with the derpy "Sex Museum" in Budapest we... walked right past it.

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Above : travellers reflected in the window Chez Paul.

Below : Kostel svaté Ludmily, neogothic late 1800s erection. The svaté Ludmily chick's basically a 10th century dowager queen, with little other in the way of merit besides. Supposedly she's the one to pray to if the mother in law's insufferable ; her rich ineffectuality's in this alleged specialization's well reflected in the extant written record.

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Above : the immortalization of the the artist's being immortalized during the production of his work.

Below : the work.

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Above and below : etude en bimbo.

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Incidentally, that burrata was fucking fantastic ; kudos Mozarellart, epic shit, well done!

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Above & below : very sad waste of (significant!) capital goods sadly misplaced in the hands of a buncha panstuit morons who are actively driving what could be a truly excellent burlesque venue into the utter ground through their usual means. It is the misfortune of the contemporaneous swamp that capital goods transfer is deemed to necessarily have to occur at theoretical value, whereas capital goods utilization is deemed to acceptably happen at any level inferior to that. The reverse situation, where capital goods utilization always occurred -- at the very minimum -- at the face/theoretical value, whereas transfers were executed at a fraction thereof would produce much better outcomes globally, at the obvious cost of burning the average retard's notions of self importance. Because this is the outcome, if you "life is sacred" and "all people are respectable" and "all value comes from work" etc : the capital goods vs human resources balance gets pushed out of equilibrium, and the net result's wastage of the respective capital goods.

I deem the arrangement screamingly inefficient, and I am firmly persuaded that capital goods being in fact a lot less replaceable than human resources, there should be way more beloved children publicly hung by their guts than quality rugs rotting silently to no purpose -- but these notions, choices and convictions of mine irrespective : the originally perceived problem with enfeoffments, and the indefinitely inalienable holdings of real property following from them was that they act as a restriction on the optimum productive ability of land. This is both false and a misstatement : enfeoffments value the optimization of the productive ability of people (through the directly obvious mechanism) while permitting sub-optimal utilization of real property. The converse approach, recent as it is untenable (but upon which "the free world" was hastily constructed) does in fact drive optimization of the productive ability of real property in the first phase, but at a significant cost : it permits sub-optimal utilization of the human resource! Therefore the second phase necessarily follows, where this alleged "free"ii society sees the collapse of utilization of real property inescapably driven by the complete degeneracy of the human resource. Because, simply put, if there's no lord in the manor to force maids to shine his floors on their hands and knees, asshole well shredded and otherwise half-faint with hunger, there'll be no buratta in any meaningful sense.iii

So, in a word : it is much better to put up with the wealthy tenant-in-possession converting agricultural land to deer-parks and other such "wasteful" pleasure uses, than to put up with the "liberated" plebs wasting their lives under the guise of entirely untenable, wholly hallucinated "choice".

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Above : do you know what precise portion of your daily experience of "your" world this relates to ?

Below : doesn't this strike you as plain suicide advertising ? I mean... what part of it suggests anything else ?

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O yeah I bought some.

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Kobe in Prague. Fucking excellent steak, I'll tell you that.

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And no, they didn't overcook my steak.

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Possibly the most brusquely unadorned tramway stop I've ever seen. The tracks just... end. That's it.

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But enough of nightly grandeur, let's see the night's loot!

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Yeah, that's right, "edibles"iv openly sold in convenience / 7-11 type shops everywhere about here.

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Let's take Prague's metro together (the fifth busiest in all of Europe!!!), and go down to the end of the A line. Then we come out, take some shots, go back in, go one stop towards town, get back out, take more shots, go back in, go another stop, and so following.

Why not, rite ?!

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Nemocnice Motol is this sad hospital land they systematically an' deliberately keep pumping fulla young women too dazed by the whole process to rightfully comprehend what's happening to them, so I suppose therefore decent pick-up grounds, but... holy hell the howling, desperate misery of it all.

It's possibly the closest you can get to experiencing the atmosphere of a leper colony in present times (no, it's not strictly about poverty, which is why subhuman shitholes in Africa or wherever don't quality -- it's about the decayed corpse of nostalgia and regret, because these only live for as long as there's some kind of glimmer of hope, however faint, however reinterpreted, to feed them its tears ; once the last spark of that is gone, you get... well... what do you get ?)

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This purely hallucinatory "don't worry, old cunt, the young cunts will be there to prop you up, you'll be happy together like a big fambly, forcing everyone else to come up with whatever saint Ludmilla they can to deal with the mess" thing is fucking doomed, for the record. Because, you see... Prague comes for you all!

No "mothers in law". Not ever, not at any cost, up to and including dissolving law, up to and including systematic rape and pillage as the only social mode of life, up to and including absolutely anything the fuck whatsoever.

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Self-evidently a campus, just from the outright unpleasant architecture, yes ? Mostly young people, namely young males 9:1 female, because you'd have to be pretty fucked in the head to live there as a young cunt, what the fuck's wrong with the sponsors' apartment anyways.

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Vai! Dar ce-avem aici ?! O clima bizonica!!!

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Buh-bye!

———
  1. To be honest, I find the Nazi aesthetic quite pleasing, not to mention their political choices most digestible of the entire bunch. Here :
    nazi-public-nudity

    Bare cunt on the street. In 1940. Crushing infantile female stupidity is still as worthy a goal today as it ever was, leaving their choices and expressions still standing, unlike the competitor's idle, girl-coddling crap. []

  2. Properly speaking "free" as in stupidity, not really (and certainly not perdurantly) as in beer, and certainly not as in "freedom" -- there can never even be such a thing as this imagined rootless freedom, floating in a cloud, somehow outside of the only possible bedrock of meaning. []
  3. Obviously among the epiphenomena of decay there's going to be museums built to store reflections of historical achievement -- but one Mozarellart doesn't make food work, it's not merely the single flower that's not enough for the making of a Spring, but rather it's the single flower whose existence is specifically predicated on being no Spring. If the "cachet" of being the only one to make proper cheese went away, the few hands involved would readily find a bottle to bury themselves in. []
  4. No fucking idea why they call them that, they're the epitome of inedible. Have you ever tasted this shit ?! It seems to me I'd much rather eat expired cockroach traps, I don't know what's more organoleptically offensive than weed, mercaptane truffles seem preferable. []
Category: La pas prin lume
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