Let's start with something light, like say really retarded, utterly ridoinculous manalone news.
So a dork sent a piece of spam to my contact page, which I approved. Because I don't give a fuck, for one thing, what could spam ever possibly do to me ? It's the other side, it's the losing sidei of the current war that has a problem with itii ; and besides, he spent all this time hand crafting his thing, let him have it, why not.
He spammed me by hand, you understand. Yep, he did. Can you believe that in 2020 there's still someone dumb enough to try and hand-plough this field ?
Yet he did ; a lithe mulattoiii kid of some vague Portuguese heritageiv sat down in Creteil (which is just another way of saying "utter horrifying ghetto the likes of which you've never seen", because there really isn't much out there to rival the human garbage dump south of Paris) and clicked the send button on a Trilema page. I don't expect he "knew what it was", I expect it just came out of a lengthy list of "leads" he got off the forums, an indistinct mess of literals interspersed with slashes and dots that he's been copy-pasting one by one, line by line, from some inconvenient alternative to a text file into the url bar of a up-to-date browser. Yet I kinda expect he will know what it is, because... well, nobody else is going to publish his attempt, right ? If you ask a dozen, a hundred, a thousand girls out and only one ever says yes... she owns you now, doesn't she.
So go ahead, visit his ~~~Shop~~~, make his day. Contact him on Discord, see what he has to say.
Which provides the ready segue into what this article's really da fuck about. Why do you expect this kid "has a discord" ? He doesn't have enough sense to get out of the rain, he's too close to the wrong end of the primate spectrum to open rather than tear packaging, yet he "has" the infinitely more complex nonsense at the ready ? Doesn't that strike you a little... hm, let's see here : it's a post-apocalyptic world, monkeys walking the no-longer-maintained pavements of what used to be a city, holding microscopes and stethoscopes. Carrying Visa Platinum credit cards glued to their tails, which catch the sunlight and glimmer, therefore working exactly as well as before. That's what the Platinum was for to begin with, impressing the other monkeys. Right ?
Discord, if you're curious, is a substitute phone line. You can not get anyone in the late teen / early twennies range pick up the phone for love or money. Not anymore. Voice comms are "too much pressure" or something like that, it's just... "not how it's done, anymore". Twingr nao, right ?
So what the fuck sense does it make to have a substitute-something-nobody-wants-to-do-anymore ?
Yet you see... discord is massively successful. I'll tell you how I measure success in a pantsuit venture : by the inconvenience it engenders. So massively successful is this discord thing, there exists no video game in which membership in the top guilds is not predicated on using discord. I don't mean its use is "strongly encouraged" or anything like that. I mean predicated. Most of them have a "recruitment process" that's discord only -- something the "great success" of yore never managedv, it used to be some guilds maybe had a webpage, but nobody ever gave much of a fuck, and in any case it'd have been out of the question to demand everyone make an account or any such nonsense.
So how did it go from "hey guys, here's a website xXxDamagexXx made for us, check it out sometime maybe" to "you can't even be in the guild if you don't keep your discord well oiled"vi ? How exactly is it that the same people desperate for every drop of activity they could get then are now desperate only to push somebody else's projectvii, diligently, and not even for free, but on their own dime ?viii
And that project consists of... alt voice phones ? Something nobody wants to do anymore anyways ? What the fuck ?!
Is it actually the case that on one hand the human need for intimacy still exists and still requires hearing other's voices, but the ever-expanding conceptual infinity of postmodernism made general-purpose calls too scary, so the only way to reconcile goat and cabage is to make the calls about fictitious worlds, in which narrow context it can still be okay and still be enjoyable owing to its implicit irrelevancy ? Is the idea here the latest pantsuit spawn is actually too anxious for phone calls, which is why they have to be substituted with discord ?
Because if that's the case, I must say... it might be the best chosen product name I can think of.———
- Review the discussions of integration to understand how winners and losers are picked in global struggles. [↩]
- In fact the allcomers party has a problem with a more extensive category of natural phenomena (called "toxic facts" in-universe), but whatever, this isn't the explanation of how pantsuitism fails -- that's written already, such as it merits. [↩]
- Oh, speaking of being a nigger, I nearly left out the best part! Check this elite Frenchypoof shit out :
I come from Vietnam. I can't verify my account
I come from Vietnam. I can't verify my account???, my account : congmmo
REddit reject my ID and my credit card ( master card )??
Is there a rich-poor distinction here?
Do you know what they're doing these days, by the way ? They're protesting (of course), but now to raise awareness about... the decay of infrastructure. That's right, these'd be the exact same idle spurious fucks who were supposed to maintain it but went on strike instead "for reasons". What do you mean "more of what didn't work ain't gonna be the solution?!?!?!?!" Haymasfuturo! [↩]
- I can even link him to efforts at selling Shemale loira aguentando tora de negão no cu etcetera. It looks somewhat like this :
He doesn't know it, of course, but the icon of his delayed-pubescence sexual fantasies / identity formation is actually Ryder Monroe.
Isn't it remarkable just how different the world is as seen through our respective eyes ? This kid's situation is somewhat similar to the situation of every other caged animal. Come to think about it : exactly the same, really. Not somewhat similar at all, plainly identical : every black panther and each mole rat, every ostrich or bear, every living thing inside the zoo ever does exactly what he does : they walk around, restlessly, through a constructed world, only ever interacting with its surfaces, ever desperately trying to find themselves in the mess.
But what the animal doesn't know, at Creteil ou ailleurs, is that each and every single element of his environment has a name. A part id / serial number. The thing no animal knows because no animal can know, as per the definition of the term "animal", is that every item in their environment was placed there. Just like they themselves (in turn an item in their environment), every item has a perfectly known parentage, a production process associated, supply chains and management of all the foregoing baked in.
The poor lonely sheep, lost in an arid infinity bereft of meaning, dun found something -- something which could perhaps even look like a ram. If you look at it just like so, it could be. Maybe. Perhaps that's how rams go ? Maybe he should be more like the tranny in there ? Maybe it's because his skin's too toasty that he can't find the necessities of life in his immediate environment. What do you think ? If he ties his teeny balls with a rubber band he found on the sidewalk (a week after a local druglord lost it off his money wad), if he spreads lime water on his limbs will the sky fucking open already ? No ? Maybe if bleach instead ? At least that burns. If it hurts it means it's working, yes ? [↩]
- Do you recall the days random unpaid maniacs/zealots went around pestering everyone about how "you should get a website" "why ?" "it's good for business" "how ?" "..."
Transparently (for everyone but most anyone) the idea was that LAMP (plus, perhaps, java) were going to run Microsoft-CPP out of business ; but to do that it had to be pushed -- so they pushed it. They did push it, effectually if disavowedly ; indeed odds are you didn't even realise this prior to reading it on Trilema. Funny how that works. [↩]
- Because it's not merely "have it", like you know, "having a myspace", you made it in jr high and it's still there, undisturbed for over a decade but as far as anyone knows just as still there as any other. No, none of that quaint 2000s shit anymore, it's 2020 now and you have to keep these horrors up to date now. It's not a one-time half hour or whatever anymore. It's ~any time~ they fucking feel like it, pantsuit idiocy went from marriage (say "I do" at some point in the distant past, you're done) to actual slavery, beep-beep-jump. [↩]
- It ain't a fucking business, fucking spare me, it's worth the same fiddy bucks any of these shits are "worth". "Industry", huh. [↩]
- In some cases, such as playing the up-to-date DOOM or whatever such nonsense there is some justification, as no team can win without real-time comms, and you can't take the fingers off the quickslots. Fine.
It's the case however in everything, even purely html page-driven things like ninjakiwi's tower keepers, things that don't even have pvp at all! So no, I don't buy the utilitarian argument for a second. [↩]