jools
jools
Post rating:
~
CHOOSE AT LEAST ONE OF THE FOLLOWING TOPICS. WRITE SOMETHING INTERESTING IN RELATION TO IT. WIN PRIZES!!! THE MORE YOU WRITE, THE MORE YOU WIN!!! WIN PRIZES!!!!
AmericanNazbro posted:the restrictive nature of collectivist systems preventing the actualization of people's sexual fetishes and why only a system, based on perverse individuality and moral depravity, can succeed
the diaper theory of social order
MOD MODIFICATION: EXTRA CREDIT IF WRITTEN WITH REFERENCE TO FALLOUT: EQUESTRIA http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fallout:_Equestria
EmanuelaOrlandi posted:julian assange/wikileaks vis a vis the x-files and government transparency, rape, and the works of "novelist" john christy
Francisco_Danconia posted:theme: peter greenaway movies are hella catholic
discipline posted:I want to see a speculative fiction piece on the euro zone in 25 years
ALSO, WITH A $30 PURSE PROVIDED BY EVERYONE'S FAVOURITE DUTCHMAN, THE TPAINE MEMORIAL PRIZE IN ASSOCIATION WITH FUDDRUCKERS:
Reconcile freedom and planning in Marxist economics.
ADDENDUM: FOR YOUR ENTRY TO COUNT, EDIT IT AND SELECT THE PUBLISH/FRONTPAGE OPTION
Edited by jools ()
innsmouthful
innsmouthful
sup b*tch
Post rating:
~
DISSENT IN GENERAL POPULATION: ARCHIVE NO. 88432 – ARTICLE 586
April 20, 2037
Dear Diary,
These days I wonder why I get out of bed at all. It’s not like I have anything to do. I don’t even have a job anymore. I used to be a writer. But now I can’t even do that. You can’t get anything past the censors these days. Say anything critical? Bam! They’ll beat you like a stray dog and leave your broken body in the gutter to rot.
But they can’t get me here. Not in my diary. I’m writing this on paper, yes! Paper! And in pencil, too! That’s how desperate I am! They can’t see it. No prying eyes here! That’s how careful you have to be these days. They have their vile tendrils everywhere. You have to be cautious of where you tread. The use of electronics for any subversive activity… yasak! They control everything. Traps everywhere! Waiting to snare your ankles, to hang you on a cross! But those aren’t allowed anymore, either.
I’m safe here, though. Safe enough to try and tell you about what’s happened to us. About what’s happened to our society, our culture. We should have listened. Powell! Breivik! Prophetic men. They knew what was coming. And in our haste, our rat race back to prosperity, we ignored these noble and wise men! We spit on our ancestry. We turned our backs on progress and civilization. We welcomed destruction.
I will tell you of our downfall.
The year 2015 brought forth the greatest disaster the civilized world has ever seen. I remember it vividly. The sheer agony of that year is a stencil of incredible tragedy that has been etched into my memory for all of eternity. 2015 is the year that Turkey joined the Eurozone. It was seen as a necessity. Greece had left violently in 2013. It was a divorce marked by incredible tragedy, with millions of our European brothers permanently lost. Of course, nobody saw it that way at the time! Let them go, our politicians said! Let them on their own, if they know what’s best! It sickens me to even recall their faces, leering on the television like decadent, laughing skulls. There is a special place in hell reserved for traitors like them. The materialists! All in the pursuit of profits, of a greater GDP! They fill me with the most base of revulsions.
At any rate, things went well for a few years after Turkey joined. Our standard of living increased, and by 2025 we had been deceived enough by our material comforts that we allowed the Turks full membership into the European Union. By this time, the only dissenters were the great and noble Bulgarian people, but the bullying of the great European economies and their own political leaders quickly silenced their voices. It was a mistake we were all to regret soon.
One day, I believe it was in 2027, there was a strange announcement on the television. It seemed that every ethnic Bulgarian had voluntarily changed their names to Turkish sounding ones. In fact, they had all embraced Islam and were moving towards a political union with Turkey. This was an incredibly bizarre event, to say the least. Our politicians did nothing about it. They were too distracted by the new Eurasian Union to the east to make any comment. Unity at that time was seen as more important than ever, especially given the aggressive military posturing that the Eurasian Union was displaying. I remember that last winter, the Eurasian Union had completely canceled gas exports to us as an act of protest against Ukraine joining the European Union, which had also occurred in 2025. Old fears of the Russians were raised, but they should have been the least of our concerns!
Our leaders were too afraid of a paper tiger to realize the true enemy in our midst. The cowards. They stressed that it was the “democratic right” of the Bulgarian people to decide their ethnicity and religion. Not a single voice of dissent was raised. The aesthetic of multiculturalism, of unity through our differences! It dominated the minds of our youth then, as it does now. Nobody saw it as a problem that the Bulgarians were abandoning their past, their very identity. Maybe if we had been more critical, we could have seen what nefarious current was really flowing beneath the placid waters of European unity.
Shortly thereafter, I began to notice a distinct change in the food around me. I would go to market to buy pork, only to discover that it was mysteriously out of stock. The first time this occurred, I simply attributed it to normal circumstance. But for weeks afterward, pork was nowhere to be found. Even the great supermarkets were found to be lacking! The next to go was alcohol. It too, strangely, was chronically out of stock. This was a much more significant loss. About half of the great nation of Germany was wiped out by this occurrence, claimed by the nefarious effects of alcohol withdrawal. It was a horrible humanitarian tragedy, with a death toll unseen since the Second World War.
The great devastation in Germany had left the industrial heartland of the European Union neutralized as an effective force. As you may know, by 2020 Germany was the only country in Europe that produced anything. After all, it was Germany alone, with its far-sighted and wise austerity, which had saved the Eurozone and the European Union. Our standard of living decreased immensely as a result. Citizens were unable to buy many European goods due to reduced production, and as a result, they had to turn to foreign imports that were expensive and left many people in poverty.
As a “temporary” measure, the government of Turkey-Bulgaria offered to send millions of migrant workers to fill the gaps in industry left by the death of so many Germans. The European Union accepted this proposal unanimously, especially considering that Germany already had a large Turkish population. The Turks were the best people for the job, it seemed. It wouldn’t be hard for them to establish connections with the remaining population, and they would fit in more quickly due to the already large presence of Turks in the country. Everybody would win, we thought.
But we couldn’t have been more wrong.
Shortly after seizing control of the means of production in Europe, the Turks struck. The dead, bloated heart of Germany spewed forth tens of millions of Turkish soldiers, armed to the teeth and indoctrinated with the teachings of jihad. From the south they cascaded forth in a river of blood, sweeping away all opposition. Nobody knew what was happening. And the numbers! The sheer numbers! We should have listened to the great Zhivkov on the Turkish question! He was right! They breed like rabbits!
The Turks went from country to country. Fighting was fierce, but they inevitably were victorious. The Turks replaced the dead with their own and took the rest of the remaining European population as slaves. One by one the great European capitals fell, and by 2029 all opposition to the Turkish onslaught had been pacified. On January 1, 2030, the Caliphate was restored. All peoples under Turkish control were to convert to Islam. Public display of other religious iconography was banned. The censor was set up to take care of the pesky problem of subversive literature. Public space was eradicated. Our former political leaders were executed without quarter. Life as we knew it came to an end.
Do you see now? It is this nightmare world that I live in! But here my thoughts are free! Not even the censor can get to me he-
April 20, 2037
Dear Diary,
These days I wonder why I get out of bed at all. It’s not like I have anything to do. I don’t even have a job anymore. I used to be a writer. But now I can’t even do that. You can’t get anything past the censors these days. Say anything critical? Bam! They’ll beat you like a stray dog and leave your broken body in the gutter to rot.
But they can’t get me here. Not in my diary. I’m writing this on paper, yes! Paper! And in pencil, too! That’s how desperate I am! They can’t see it. No prying eyes here! That’s how careful you have to be these days. They have their vile tendrils everywhere. You have to be cautious of where you tread. The use of electronics for any subversive activity… yasak! They control everything. Traps everywhere! Waiting to snare your ankles, to hang you on a cross! But those aren’t allowed anymore, either.
I’m safe here, though. Safe enough to try and tell you about what’s happened to us. About what’s happened to our society, our culture. We should have listened. Powell! Breivik! Prophetic men. They knew what was coming. And in our haste, our rat race back to prosperity, we ignored these noble and wise men! We spit on our ancestry. We turned our backs on progress and civilization. We welcomed destruction.
I will tell you of our downfall.
The year 2015 brought forth the greatest disaster the civilized world has ever seen. I remember it vividly. The sheer agony of that year is a stencil of incredible tragedy that has been etched into my memory for all of eternity. 2015 is the year that Turkey joined the Eurozone. It was seen as a necessity. Greece had left violently in 2013. It was a divorce marked by incredible tragedy, with millions of our European brothers permanently lost. Of course, nobody saw it that way at the time! Let them go, our politicians said! Let them on their own, if they know what’s best! It sickens me to even recall their faces, leering on the television like decadent, laughing skulls. There is a special place in hell reserved for traitors like them. The materialists! All in the pursuit of profits, of a greater GDP! They fill me with the most base of revulsions.
At any rate, things went well for a few years after Turkey joined. Our standard of living increased, and by 2025 we had been deceived enough by our material comforts that we allowed the Turks full membership into the European Union. By this time, the only dissenters were the great and noble Bulgarian people, but the bullying of the great European economies and their own political leaders quickly silenced their voices. It was a mistake we were all to regret soon.
One day, I believe it was in 2027, there was a strange announcement on the television. It seemed that every ethnic Bulgarian had voluntarily changed their names to Turkish sounding ones. In fact, they had all embraced Islam and were moving towards a political union with Turkey. This was an incredibly bizarre event, to say the least. Our politicians did nothing about it. They were too distracted by the new Eurasian Union to the east to make any comment. Unity at that time was seen as more important than ever, especially given the aggressive military posturing that the Eurasian Union was displaying. I remember that last winter, the Eurasian Union had completely canceled gas exports to us as an act of protest against Ukraine joining the European Union, which had also occurred in 2025. Old fears of the Russians were raised, but they should have been the least of our concerns!
Our leaders were too afraid of a paper tiger to realize the true enemy in our midst. The cowards. They stressed that it was the “democratic right” of the Bulgarian people to decide their ethnicity and religion. Not a single voice of dissent was raised. The aesthetic of multiculturalism, of unity through our differences! It dominated the minds of our youth then, as it does now. Nobody saw it as a problem that the Bulgarians were abandoning their past, their very identity. Maybe if we had been more critical, we could have seen what nefarious current was really flowing beneath the placid waters of European unity.
Shortly thereafter, I began to notice a distinct change in the food around me. I would go to market to buy pork, only to discover that it was mysteriously out of stock. The first time this occurred, I simply attributed it to normal circumstance. But for weeks afterward, pork was nowhere to be found. Even the great supermarkets were found to be lacking! The next to go was alcohol. It too, strangely, was chronically out of stock. This was a much more significant loss. About half of the great nation of Germany was wiped out by this occurrence, claimed by the nefarious effects of alcohol withdrawal. It was a horrible humanitarian tragedy, with a death toll unseen since the Second World War.
The great devastation in Germany had left the industrial heartland of the European Union neutralized as an effective force. As you may know, by 2020 Germany was the only country in Europe that produced anything. After all, it was Germany alone, with its far-sighted and wise austerity, which had saved the Eurozone and the European Union. Our standard of living decreased immensely as a result. Citizens were unable to buy many European goods due to reduced production, and as a result, they had to turn to foreign imports that were expensive and left many people in poverty.
As a “temporary” measure, the government of Turkey-Bulgaria offered to send millions of migrant workers to fill the gaps in industry left by the death of so many Germans. The European Union accepted this proposal unanimously, especially considering that Germany already had a large Turkish population. The Turks were the best people for the job, it seemed. It wouldn’t be hard for them to establish connections with the remaining population, and they would fit in more quickly due to the already large presence of Turks in the country. Everybody would win, we thought.
But we couldn’t have been more wrong.
Shortly after seizing control of the means of production in Europe, the Turks struck. The dead, bloated heart of Germany spewed forth tens of millions of Turkish soldiers, armed to the teeth and indoctrinated with the teachings of jihad. From the south they cascaded forth in a river of blood, sweeping away all opposition. Nobody knew what was happening. And the numbers! The sheer numbers! We should have listened to the great Zhivkov on the Turkish question! He was right! They breed like rabbits!
The Turks went from country to country. Fighting was fierce, but they inevitably were victorious. The Turks replaced the dead with their own and took the rest of the remaining European population as slaves. One by one the great European capitals fell, and by 2029 all opposition to the Turkish onslaught had been pacified. On January 1, 2030, the Caliphate was restored. All peoples under Turkish control were to convert to Islam. Public display of other religious iconography was banned. The censor was set up to take care of the pesky problem of subversive literature. Public space was eradicated. Our former political leaders were executed without quarter. Life as we knew it came to an end.
Do you see now? It is this nightmare world that I live in! But here my thoughts are free! Not even the censor can get to me he-
Edited by innsmouthful ()
EmanuelaBrolandi
EmanuelaBrolandi
Post rating:
+
GLUE SNIFF COLLECTIVE PRESENTS: THE LOST WRITINGS OF JOHN CHRISTY. TRANSLATED FROM THE YIDDISH BY EMANUELA ORLANDI
Part One: Diary of Muhhamed Abdul Basir, Sanitation Officer, 1/2:
April 20, 2037
Dear Diary,
Two of the kafirs awoke to the sound of the adhan echoing from a distant iMuezzin - a rusty digital voice's recitation echoing across the expanse of the scorched and browned plain. The man and his teenage daughter slowly stirred, still naked under the tattered remains of a thin blanket. The words NICE BLOCK 2 printed across it's stained and off-blue surface were barely legible in the early morning light. The man reached for an petrol can fulled of moonshine and took a swig.
The older woman was already awake, shaking a gas tank for the last remaining amount of fuel to generate a small flame which barely heated a sheet of aluminum foil containing a few local mushrooms and a hunk of meat cut from the carcass of a pig next to which they had made their camp. Pausing from her work for a moment, she reached for a plastic bag next to her and put her face into it, inhaling deeply.
The feral swine had been shot by a sanitation team sometime in the last week, and some days ago the birds and wild dogs had removed most of it's innards and one of it's eyes. I wondered if Said or I had shot it on our Monday patrol of the Wastelands, but it was hard to remember. We dispose of so many swine. As the woman rocked back, the effects of the solvent running their course through her tormented veins, her dress was pulled tight across her midsection and it became apparent that she was several months pregnant. A moment of bewilderment overtook her intoxicated face as she stared towards the bloated cyclopean face of the swine. Perhaps, I thought, she had been born into a family of pig farmers before the revolution and was reminiscing. After all, the kafir pig farmers widespread resistance to the programs to repurpose their farms for good use had led to them making up a large percentage of kafir fugitives and refugees.
"I hate this fucking job,' Said muttered under his breath for the nth time. He is a smart man, and it pains me how much I have to remind him of the importance of our job. Without our work, the people of the Ummah would have no one to defend them from the ravages of swine, kafirs, and the other pests which sometimes emerged from the Wastelands to harass and sew disease and chaos amongst the people of the Ummah.
Part 2: Part 2
Louise Johnson had been born in a small town outside of Nice. Her father was an English pig farmer and her mother had worked for Citigroup. Louise Johnson knew that none of that mattered. Louise Johnson had been buried long ago in the mass graves at the Nice Refugee Camp. Louise Johnson had been smothered long ago, her pharynx crushed by an overly rough Pakistani man in a dingy brothel. Louise Johnson had been damned to hell long ago, denying the Truth about God and the way of Correct Living. Her life had become that hell to which her disbelief had condemned her.
Louise Johnson was distracted by the sound of the petrol can being tossed to the ground and the voice of her half-brother to her side,
"Oi you barmpot cunt you burned through the bloody tinfoil!"
Part 3: Diary of Muhhamed Abdul Basir, Sanitation Officer, 2/2:
"You don't really hate it Said. Now, let's deal with these brood of kafirs and get on our way. I've heard reports of a swine infestation not far to the East." Said grunted and shouldered his rifle. We paused for a moment and watched as the kafir man sent a blow across the face of the pregnant woman for some unknown offense. Her already broken nose opened up again and blood spilled across the brown grass. Said let out a loud sigh.
The commotion finally died down, and we assessed the situation. The teen girl would be the first shot, then the man, and then the woman, who was clearly injured and impaired. Just as I began to hold my breath and prepare to make the shot, Said's radio lit up.
"Sanitation Team Three, we have reports of an infestation of swine one klick to your East." I grimaced, lowered my rifle, and nodded towards said. We hopped onto our segways and began to head East along the beaten path. The commission for eliminating an infestation of swine is so much greater than that for some brood of kafir, and if we took all the time necessary to burn the bodies properly we would not even have time to make a good commission for the day.
When I got home that night, I checked Al-Jazeera on my iPad and saw that a sikh boy had been banned from wearing his dastar in a public school. I couldn't help but wonder to myself that maybe the salafists aren't even interested in maintaining a free Ummah for all people anymore.
Part One: Diary of Muhhamed Abdul Basir, Sanitation Officer, 1/2:
April 20, 2037
Dear Diary,
Two of the kafirs awoke to the sound of the adhan echoing from a distant iMuezzin - a rusty digital voice's recitation echoing across the expanse of the scorched and browned plain. The man and his teenage daughter slowly stirred, still naked under the tattered remains of a thin blanket. The words NICE BLOCK 2 printed across it's stained and off-blue surface were barely legible in the early morning light. The man reached for an petrol can fulled of moonshine and took a swig.
The older woman was already awake, shaking a gas tank for the last remaining amount of fuel to generate a small flame which barely heated a sheet of aluminum foil containing a few local mushrooms and a hunk of meat cut from the carcass of a pig next to which they had made their camp. Pausing from her work for a moment, she reached for a plastic bag next to her and put her face into it, inhaling deeply.
The feral swine had been shot by a sanitation team sometime in the last week, and some days ago the birds and wild dogs had removed most of it's innards and one of it's eyes. I wondered if Said or I had shot it on our Monday patrol of the Wastelands, but it was hard to remember. We dispose of so many swine. As the woman rocked back, the effects of the solvent running their course through her tormented veins, her dress was pulled tight across her midsection and it became apparent that she was several months pregnant. A moment of bewilderment overtook her intoxicated face as she stared towards the bloated cyclopean face of the swine. Perhaps, I thought, she had been born into a family of pig farmers before the revolution and was reminiscing. After all, the kafir pig farmers widespread resistance to the programs to repurpose their farms for good use had led to them making up a large percentage of kafir fugitives and refugees.
"I hate this fucking job,' Said muttered under his breath for the nth time. He is a smart man, and it pains me how much I have to remind him of the importance of our job. Without our work, the people of the Ummah would have no one to defend them from the ravages of swine, kafirs, and the other pests which sometimes emerged from the Wastelands to harass and sew disease and chaos amongst the people of the Ummah.
Part 2: Part 2
Louise Johnson had been born in a small town outside of Nice. Her father was an English pig farmer and her mother had worked for Citigroup. Louise Johnson knew that none of that mattered. Louise Johnson had been buried long ago in the mass graves at the Nice Refugee Camp. Louise Johnson had been smothered long ago, her pharynx crushed by an overly rough Pakistani man in a dingy brothel. Louise Johnson had been damned to hell long ago, denying the Truth about God and the way of Correct Living. Her life had become that hell to which her disbelief had condemned her.
Louise Johnson was distracted by the sound of the petrol can being tossed to the ground and the voice of her half-brother to her side,
"Oi you barmpot cunt you burned through the bloody tinfoil!"
Part 3: Diary of Muhhamed Abdul Basir, Sanitation Officer, 2/2:
"You don't really hate it Said. Now, let's deal with these brood of kafirs and get on our way. I've heard reports of a swine infestation not far to the East." Said grunted and shouldered his rifle. We paused for a moment and watched as the kafir man sent a blow across the face of the pregnant woman for some unknown offense. Her already broken nose opened up again and blood spilled across the brown grass. Said let out a loud sigh.
The commotion finally died down, and we assessed the situation. The teen girl would be the first shot, then the man, and then the woman, who was clearly injured and impaired. Just as I began to hold my breath and prepare to make the shot, Said's radio lit up.
"Sanitation Team Three, we have reports of an infestation of swine one klick to your East." I grimaced, lowered my rifle, and nodded towards said. We hopped onto our segways and began to head East along the beaten path. The commission for eliminating an infestation of swine is so much greater than that for some brood of kafir, and if we took all the time necessary to burn the bodies properly we would not even have time to make a good commission for the day.
When I got home that night, I checked Al-Jazeera on my iPad and saw that a sikh boy had been banned from wearing his dastar in a public school. I couldn't help but wonder to myself that maybe the salafists aren't even interested in maintaining a free Ummah for all people anymore.
Edited by EmanuelaBrolandi ()
deadken
deadken
penitent
Post rating:
+
EDITED OUT BY REQUEST
Edited by NEOADMINISTRATOR ()
stegosaurus
stegosaurus
Post rating:
+
John Exposition softly powered down his future bike made of Martian unobtanium (heh) with an almost unhearable hum. As he dismounted onto the renamedacrete with a soft *pomf* from his gravoboots which are like boots but cooler because they have little jets in them, his nano eye (singular... ) scanned the nowsticker. Owing to his Implants he is incapable of just watching one part of the news and has to read, digest, and softly mouth all the words he sees before moving on. The Chins (John rememberd long ago when they were called 'chinese' ahem') were at it again in, uh, Ne(o) P(e)rsia. That mad theory-dictator had annoyed them for the last time, and the time would be soon when the chins had at last reached the arabian gulf which used to be the persian gulf and were posing a serious threat to greater israel. Or so it seemed to John. He thought all of this on the sidewalk as he pulled a ciggaweed out of his pocket. He's a very quick thinker.
deadken
deadken
penitent
Post rating:
~
its speculative fiction bruv what you gon do
Ironicwarcriminal
Ironicwarcriminal
Post rating:
+
Between the roving bands of muslim militias and Gay neosocialists that haunted the streets of Domodossola, Paulo hadn't felt the warmth of a pussy in 4 long years.....
deadken
deadken
penitent
Post rating:
~
EDITED OUT BY REQUEST
Edited by discipline ()
babyfinland
babyfinland
tardy on these heaters
Post rating:
~
"I see the beauty of God in your breasts its putting my naffs to the test
i don't say this in jest let me hit it before I go back west
and do you like all the rest
u will say masha'Allah he the best papa anytime you wanna mu'tah
say salaams to this ma'ma cuz she can't wait to call me da'da
I'm your khalifah and u got paper like Khadija so I may call u when I need ya
cd sales can be slow and trust baby u not a hoe I just need a little rizq from my miss and if you like my other bent u can help pay the rent
and we can all three smoke trees and talk about the Beloved and Quran yes I am a mystic Don like the round brown never do I frown
I just put on my kufi, chant like a sufi, and my lyrics make you goofy.
Yes I am your brother but we all lovers need that check from the department of state to get rid of hate
and drive in my SUV to the clinic to get rid of my STD I got from some off brand bent who away I should have sent.
I'm a lover of them all had a Malay last fall, Paki girl said smack me, arab bent said u will drool for my fool and not talkin about beans,
I am a lover and love them herbs make my head feel superb don't make it haram that's not in Quran,
I am the Muslim mystic lover, Lethal Weapon like Danny Glover, but tap sisters like Savion, kill them dead like Treyvon, and rob folks like Decepticons.
i don't say this in jest let me hit it before I go back west
and do you like all the rest
u will say masha'Allah he the best papa anytime you wanna mu'tah
say salaams to this ma'ma cuz she can't wait to call me da'da
I'm your khalifah and u got paper like Khadija so I may call u when I need ya
cd sales can be slow and trust baby u not a hoe I just need a little rizq from my miss and if you like my other bent u can help pay the rent
and we can all three smoke trees and talk about the Beloved and Quran yes I am a mystic Don like the round brown never do I frown
I just put on my kufi, chant like a sufi, and my lyrics make you goofy.
Yes I am your brother but we all lovers need that check from the department of state to get rid of hate
and drive in my SUV to the clinic to get rid of my STD I got from some off brand bent who away I should have sent.
I'm a lover of them all had a Malay last fall, Paki girl said smack me, arab bent said u will drool for my fool and not talkin about beans,
I am a lover and love them herbs make my head feel superb don't make it haram that's not in Quran,
I am the Muslim mystic lover, Lethal Weapon like Danny Glover, but tap sisters like Savion, kill them dead like Treyvon, and rob folks like Decepticons.
Tsargon
Tsargon
Post rating:
+
the muezzin mounts
notre dame's tower
and sings to the world:
"schengen schmengen"
notre dame's tower
and sings to the world:
"schengen schmengen"
bonclay
bonclay
Harry the Hat
Post rating:
+
How I Would Reconcile Planning With Freedom In Marxist Economics
By Bon Clay
Freedom means all different things to different people. One mans freedom is another mans oppresser. Every one wants to have freedom but our economy does not work without planning. It turns unequal. Here are three resaons that people can be free and have plans!
1. Karl Marx said that true freedom is in communism. People who live in capitalist society seem free alot. They have voting and free speech. But there speech is limited because of the market forces. Freedom limited because of the market forces too. And every vote is for capitalists mostly.
2. Because people need money for everything. They need as much money as possible. Karl Marx said that "to each according to his deeds can do enough for everybody's needs." People should get everything free. They can all be educated and get doctors and live in houses or good apartments Everyone can eat good old healthy food because we have the power to make it enough. No one has to work bad jobs. But you have to plan for it because it will be darn expensive. A market isnt going to generate it because theres no profit in it. They said it would but it didnt.
3. Everyone around me is acting in ways that are scary and confusing. People at my school are mean. I am sad alot. My parents fight alot. Husbands beat there wives and moms and dads abandon there children. They are not feeding babies they are feeding them water instead of milk and children have to eat the reduced price food lunches at school which gets them made fun of. People are using drugs. Stealing and killing are both way up. Karl Marx said this would happen. It would become an alien nation where every one is looking bug eyed at each other and not getting along. This cant be real freedom. Freedom is supposed to feel good and be equal. This is not equal, it doesnt feel good. I dont care if i have to follow a plan i just dont want to feel like this anymore.
4. Like capitalism isnt planned too? People boast that its a free market but it was never really a free market just a market controlled by people who could control the market which means bankers and insurance guys. Whatever.
In conclusion there are alot of reasons freedom isnt really real in this world anymore cause its actually an illusion and planning society means everyone can get the money and books and they need in order to start a happy life here on the real world I want my readers to know to keep an open mind about socialism, to not be afraid of planning, and challenge them to start a planned economy of there own.
By Bon Clay
Freedom means all different things to different people. One mans freedom is another mans oppresser. Every one wants to have freedom but our economy does not work without planning. It turns unequal. Here are three resaons that people can be free and have plans!
1. Karl Marx said that true freedom is in communism. People who live in capitalist society seem free alot. They have voting and free speech. But there speech is limited because of the market forces. Freedom limited because of the market forces too. And every vote is for capitalists mostly.
2. Because people need money for everything. They need as much money as possible. Karl Marx said that "to each according to his deeds can do enough for everybody's needs." People should get everything free. They can all be educated and get doctors and live in houses or good apartments Everyone can eat good old healthy food because we have the power to make it enough. No one has to work bad jobs. But you have to plan for it because it will be darn expensive. A market isnt going to generate it because theres no profit in it. They said it would but it didnt.
3. Everyone around me is acting in ways that are scary and confusing. People at my school are mean. I am sad alot. My parents fight alot. Husbands beat there wives and moms and dads abandon there children. They are not feeding babies they are feeding them water instead of milk and children have to eat the reduced price food lunches at school which gets them made fun of. People are using drugs. Stealing and killing are both way up. Karl Marx said this would happen. It would become an alien nation where every one is looking bug eyed at each other and not getting along. This cant be real freedom. Freedom is supposed to feel good and be equal. This is not equal, it doesnt feel good. I dont care if i have to follow a plan i just dont want to feel like this anymore.
4. Like capitalism isnt planned too? People boast that its a free market but it was never really a free market just a market controlled by people who could control the market which means bankers and insurance guys. Whatever.
In conclusion there are alot of reasons freedom isnt really real in this world anymore cause its actually an illusion and planning society means everyone can get the money and books and they need in order to start a happy life here on the real world I want my readers to know to keep an open mind about socialism, to not be afraid of planning, and challenge them to start a planned economy of there own.
Edited by blinkandwheeze ()
jools
jools
Post rating:
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RULE ADDENDUM!!! LOOK AT MY POST EDIT!!!!
[account deactivated]
KilledInADuel
KilledInADuel
Post rating:
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julian assange/wikileaks vis a vis the x-files and government transparency, rape, and the works of "novelist" john christy
Impper
Impper
Post rating:
~
--yo man. you go to connor's party last night?
--naw.
--yves's?
--nope.
--annie said she saw you around. but like you were logged in.
--yeah.
--so annie was wrong?
--no i went to hang out with fatima at, uh, the bar.
--then why were you logged in?
--i was thinking, like, let me explain this . . . you know that thing fatima does all the time.
--with her pc?
--yeah. so i just thought it would be funny if i did it to her.
--did you do it?
--no bro. she's like really socially confident and she actually called me out on it.
--shit.
--yeah it was funny.
--you should have come to connor's
--did anything happen?
--naw it was just relaxed.
~~to be continued~~
--naw.
--yves's?
--nope.
--annie said she saw you around. but like you were logged in.
--yeah.
--so annie was wrong?
--no i went to hang out with fatima at, uh, the bar.
--then why were you logged in?
--i was thinking, like, let me explain this . . . you know that thing fatima does all the time.
--with her pc?
--yeah. so i just thought it would be funny if i did it to her.
--did you do it?
--no bro. she's like really socially confident and she actually called me out on it.
--shit.
--yeah it was funny.
--you should have come to connor's
--did anything happen?
--naw it was just relaxed.
~~to be continued~~
Edited by Impper ()
Flying_horse_in_saudi_arabia
Flying_horse_in_saudi_arabia
Post rating:
+
just doing some research
Impper
Impper
Post rating:
~
2037 pt. 2
--so, elise.
--yeah, what about her.
--she was at connor's party.
--what? why didn't you tell me?
--um, everybody knew she was going, she's got a foursquare account, you know, she pays monthly on it too.
--you don't have to tell me, i fucking know bro.
--i'm just saying, you know, everybody knew she was going to the party, that's what she pays for. you're the guy that cracks your pc or whatever, you do it on purpose.
--dude, don't even start with that shit.
--i'm just saying it's funny, that's all.
--we've gone over this a thousand times. just don't start.
--man, all i'm saying is you're a fuckin weirdo, you know? all that bullshit you talk about authenticity and embracing the, what was it, 'physical reality of urban life,' 'opting out of the network,' the spectacle of the disconnect'--and here you are pissed off because, you know, you missed old girl's updates, the ones she pays for so that you, you specifically, or all the fucking assholes in the world just like you, if we're really being specific, can see where she's at at all times, you know, who she's looking at--do you remember that one night when like, fucking sixty eight percent of her gaze was on you? no, probably not, because youre a prick--i mean, when it comes down to it, i really think that girl loves you. but yeah, all that shit, so you missed her updates, well, enjoy the fucking spectacle of the disconnect. it's just fucking bullshit, man, you're no different than anybody else.
--whatever. fatima. it's fucking fatima. she must have seen elise's updates and invited me to the bar, you know, just to fuck with me.
--she's not even that kind of girl, man.
--she even came back to my place, smoked some of my weed, sat there playing video games.
--did anything happen?
--no, not at all. i was fucked up, then i smoked, well, you know. i fell asleep and she was gone.
--man, sounds like a great night. hey, hold on . . . okay, yep. elise is right down the block, at tomtom, she's even got a cute little feed of herself, just sitting there reading a book and shit. are you happy that you've got a best friend with a legit social account?
--no, fuck off.
--are you just gonna sit there drinking? get off your ass and go see what's up.
--that shit creeps me out. nobody wants to see a feed of a girl sitting alone reading a book, much less even know where she's at.
--oh holy shit, you're starting with this again?
--no, it's just wrong. that's all i'm saying.
--shut up and put the fucking information to use. it's your, you know, happiness.
--nope.
--just pretend you're walking by. she is seriously in the 2nd window . . . wait, yeah, man, she's barely reading, she's just kind of staring wistfully out at the street. dude, if you just walked by she'd lose her shit.
--i'll sit right here. thanks though, you're a big help man.
--if you don't get up and go to that girl i'm gonna be seriously pissed off.
--yeah, i'll take that risk.
--okay. i'll buy us some shots. it'll get your courage up . . . see what a great friend i am?
--i'm not scared.
--what is it then?
--i already told you.
--here, drink the shot and we'll see. bottoms up! . . . ah, that hits the spot . . . so, elise. i'm watching the feed right now. i can tell she misses you, man.
--still not going.
--what, are you serious? fuck it, i'm messaging her.
--you'd better not.
--hahaha, oh my god, man, you just logged out. what a fuckin pussy! are you serious?
--if you message her, i'm leaving.
--fuck, unbelievable . . . okay, for a message . . . let's see . . . 'Hey. Your boyfriend and lover is here. Come czech us out. U look bored'
--i really hope you didn't send that. god, how embarrassing . . .
--it's done, man. shit, hah, she seriously responded in less than ten seconds . . . she's getting up! like a speeding bullet with this girl! yeah, she really does love you! she's zoomin out of the cafe, she's already out of the feed's frame . . . it's gonna be like two minutes and she's here. jesus, i've never seen anything like it.
--oh my god . . .
TO BE CONTINUED
--so, elise.
--yeah, what about her.
--she was at connor's party.
--what? why didn't you tell me?
--um, everybody knew she was going, she's got a foursquare account, you know, she pays monthly on it too.
--you don't have to tell me, i fucking know bro.
--i'm just saying, you know, everybody knew she was going to the party, that's what she pays for. you're the guy that cracks your pc or whatever, you do it on purpose.
--dude, don't even start with that shit.
--i'm just saying it's funny, that's all.
--we've gone over this a thousand times. just don't start.
--man, all i'm saying is you're a fuckin weirdo, you know? all that bullshit you talk about authenticity and embracing the, what was it, 'physical reality of urban life,' 'opting out of the network,' the spectacle of the disconnect'--and here you are pissed off because, you know, you missed old girl's updates, the ones she pays for so that you, you specifically, or all the fucking assholes in the world just like you, if we're really being specific, can see where she's at at all times, you know, who she's looking at--do you remember that one night when like, fucking sixty eight percent of her gaze was on you? no, probably not, because youre a prick--i mean, when it comes down to it, i really think that girl loves you. but yeah, all that shit, so you missed her updates, well, enjoy the fucking spectacle of the disconnect. it's just fucking bullshit, man, you're no different than anybody else.
--whatever. fatima. it's fucking fatima. she must have seen elise's updates and invited me to the bar, you know, just to fuck with me.
--she's not even that kind of girl, man.
--she even came back to my place, smoked some of my weed, sat there playing video games.
--did anything happen?
--no, not at all. i was fucked up, then i smoked, well, you know. i fell asleep and she was gone.
--man, sounds like a great night. hey, hold on . . . okay, yep. elise is right down the block, at tomtom, she's even got a cute little feed of herself, just sitting there reading a book and shit. are you happy that you've got a best friend with a legit social account?
--no, fuck off.
--are you just gonna sit there drinking? get off your ass and go see what's up.
--that shit creeps me out. nobody wants to see a feed of a girl sitting alone reading a book, much less even know where she's at.
--oh holy shit, you're starting with this again?
--no, it's just wrong. that's all i'm saying.
--shut up and put the fucking information to use. it's your, you know, happiness.
--nope.
--just pretend you're walking by. she is seriously in the 2nd window . . . wait, yeah, man, she's barely reading, she's just kind of staring wistfully out at the street. dude, if you just walked by she'd lose her shit.
--i'll sit right here. thanks though, you're a big help man.
--if you don't get up and go to that girl i'm gonna be seriously pissed off.
--yeah, i'll take that risk.
--okay. i'll buy us some shots. it'll get your courage up . . . see what a great friend i am?
--i'm not scared.
--what is it then?
--i already told you.
--here, drink the shot and we'll see. bottoms up! . . . ah, that hits the spot . . . so, elise. i'm watching the feed right now. i can tell she misses you, man.
--still not going.
--what, are you serious? fuck it, i'm messaging her.
--you'd better not.
--hahaha, oh my god, man, you just logged out. what a fuckin pussy! are you serious?
--if you message her, i'm leaving.
--fuck, unbelievable . . . okay, for a message . . . let's see . . . 'Hey. Your boyfriend and lover is here. Come czech us out. U look bored'
--i really hope you didn't send that. god, how embarrassing . . .
--it's done, man. shit, hah, she seriously responded in less than ten seconds . . . she's getting up! like a speeding bullet with this girl! yeah, she really does love you! she's zoomin out of the cafe, she's already out of the feed's frame . . . it's gonna be like two minutes and she's here. jesus, i've never seen anything like it.
--oh my god . . .
TO BE CONTINUED
LandBeluga
LandBeluga
Post rating:
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Everyone Is Dead
If anyone were alive to keep track, the year would be 2037, but everyone everywhere is dead.
(To be continued.)
If anyone were alive to keep track, the year would be 2037, but everyone everywhere is dead.
(To be continued.)
Impper
Impper
Post rating:
~
2037 pt. 3
--the fact that you're still sitting here proves that you're completely on board with everything that i just did.
--no, you asshole, i'm just tired. jesus. i don't feel like moving.
--fuck that. you've already taken five hundred milligrams of modafinil today. jesus, what an ancient fucking drug . . . and forty milligrams of amphetamine salt? man, you're so fucking retro today. and drinking too--who even does that anymore? that shit's gonna kill you.
--you know that's really fucking creepy what you're doing. everybody's a fucking creep.
--comrade, i look at you and it lets me know. it's not like i have a choice about it, like, how is it creepy if literally everybody does it. noone's got a choice.
--i don't do it.
--yeah, but you're you, you're a weirdo. remember when you got arrested because you blocked your own drug feed? hahaha, ohhh shit.
--yeah, shit, you're a barrel of laughs today, aren't you?
--oh fuck, elise's at the door. hell yeah, boy, put your game face on.
--god dammit . . .
--i forgot how bouncy she is, lookit the smile on that one, and those legs, you're fuckin crazy for not jumpin on this, like, yesterday . . . elise!! heyyyy!
--heyyyyyyyy! come here, give me a hug! . . . aww, what's wrong with lazzie pie?
--lazlo's really sad and depressed that he missed you last night at connor's party.
--but i was updating for like six hours!
--you know how he is with that stuff. so authentic, isn't he authentic, elise?
--he's the most authentic guy in town! aren't you, lazzie?
--jesus, would you two please shut the fuck up?
--haha! moody moody . . . what's that you're drinking.
--here, sit down, i'll buy you one if you're staying.
--don't get too excited now, lazlo!
--are you sure, laz?
--jesus, yeah, i said i'm going to do it, so i'll do it. sit down already.
--don't be a dick, man.
--it's okay! you're so sweet, laz, buying a girl a drink.
--god knows he can't afford it . . .
--hey! don't say that about laz! you're the one who's a dick, bela. bela bellhop, remember when they called you that?
--oh man, the love you have for this kid makes me sick to my stomach. look at her laz, she's gaga over you . . .
--shut up! what a jerk . . .
--loooovers! . . .
--we haven't--
--oooh! lazlo, you're taking amphetamines and drinking?
--oh jesus, here we go . . .
--don't you remember that string of deaths, like, two years ago?
--that was, god, this again, those kids were taking way too--
--can we please not get into this. elise, he's a partisan for his drugs of choice, you know that, the guy's a weirdo, but you love him, you accept him for who he is . . .
--bela, you really need to stop saying that.
--oh, you won't tell me who i love or don't love, lazzie!
--what the fuck do i even care! you can love whoever the hell you want, and then your pc can post a fucking status update about it!
--whoa, calm down there lazlo, here come the drinks. c'mon, elise, lazlo, let's sit here and be happy with our drinks . . .
--thanks for the drink, laz . . .
-- . . .
--so . . .
--yeah. sorry, elise, i didn't mean to raise my voice, or whatever . . .
--it was me. i, bela, was annoying lazlo before you arrived. i take all the blame.
--haha, that's alright, boys. little cute little boys . . . you guys saw my feed, wow, i was so bored! check it out--oh, that was really funny, bela, check it out, spelled c-z-e-c-h, you're so goofy--my social account has the boredom metric thing, i scored an eighty nine!
--yeah, you looked it. that's why i messaged you!
--come clean, lazlo, you asked bela to message me!
--no, and to set the record straight, i didn't see you on your feed, because i wouldn't watch your feed, or any feed for that matter, and i didn't know where you were or what you were doing, because i wouldn't stalk your foursquare, or anybody else's foursquare for that matter, and for god's sake i would never, ever have a look at a fucking boredom metric, because that is the most fucked up thing i've ever heard about in my life, how many fucking times do you think schopenhauer rolled over and kicked his grave when they came out with that thing, you know, like the fucking, i don't know, commodification of the final proof of man's superfluity and the, fucking, god, like life's fucking senselessness.
--bro, they exhumed all the graves like, a decade ago
--hahahaha!
--oh, god, that wasn't the--okay, forget it. i didn't say anything. elise, i'm sorry, but i have things to do, um, plans, you know. bela, i'll see you later. elise.
--you haven't got any plans and you know it!
--oh, i'm sorry, lazlo, am i bothering you? maybe you just wanted to talk to bela . . .
--no, i really do have plans.
--no, he's lying, elise. in fact it's my presence that's bothering him, that is my presence while he is in your presence. so i'll take my leave, well, wait, before i do, to prove it to you, i'll play back our earlier conversation, just watch how he basically jumps when i mention your name, and the inflection in his voice - lazlo's absolutely crazy about you . . . okay, one sec . . . 'so, elise.' 'yeah, what about her.' 'she was at connor's party.' 'what? why didn't you tell me?' 'um, everybody knew . . .' and so on and so on, you get the picture, elise.
--wait, play the rest! . . .
--it's private.
--i'll just buy it from the store!
--while you are certainly free to do that, elise, i would rather suggest that you sit here and cozy up a little bit to lazlo, who will tell you whatever your little ears want to hear. and with that, i'll take my leave. he's all yours, elise . . .
--hahaha! yay! come here, laz . . .
--oh my god . . .
TO BE CONTINUED
--the fact that you're still sitting here proves that you're completely on board with everything that i just did.
--no, you asshole, i'm just tired. jesus. i don't feel like moving.
--fuck that. you've already taken five hundred milligrams of modafinil today. jesus, what an ancient fucking drug . . . and forty milligrams of amphetamine salt? man, you're so fucking retro today. and drinking too--who even does that anymore? that shit's gonna kill you.
--you know that's really fucking creepy what you're doing. everybody's a fucking creep.
--comrade, i look at you and it lets me know. it's not like i have a choice about it, like, how is it creepy if literally everybody does it. noone's got a choice.
--i don't do it.
--yeah, but you're you, you're a weirdo. remember when you got arrested because you blocked your own drug feed? hahaha, ohhh shit.
--yeah, shit, you're a barrel of laughs today, aren't you?
--oh fuck, elise's at the door. hell yeah, boy, put your game face on.
--god dammit . . .
--i forgot how bouncy she is, lookit the smile on that one, and those legs, you're fuckin crazy for not jumpin on this, like, yesterday . . . elise!! heyyyy!
--heyyyyyyyy! come here, give me a hug! . . . aww, what's wrong with lazzie pie?
--lazlo's really sad and depressed that he missed you last night at connor's party.
--but i was updating for like six hours!
--you know how he is with that stuff. so authentic, isn't he authentic, elise?
--he's the most authentic guy in town! aren't you, lazzie?
--jesus, would you two please shut the fuck up?
--haha! moody moody . . . what's that you're drinking.
--here, sit down, i'll buy you one if you're staying.
--don't get too excited now, lazlo!
--are you sure, laz?
--jesus, yeah, i said i'm going to do it, so i'll do it. sit down already.
--don't be a dick, man.
--it's okay! you're so sweet, laz, buying a girl a drink.
--god knows he can't afford it . . .
--hey! don't say that about laz! you're the one who's a dick, bela. bela bellhop, remember when they called you that?
--oh man, the love you have for this kid makes me sick to my stomach. look at her laz, she's gaga over you . . .
--shut up! what a jerk . . .
--loooovers! . . .
--we haven't--
--oooh! lazlo, you're taking amphetamines and drinking?
--oh jesus, here we go . . .
--don't you remember that string of deaths, like, two years ago?
--that was, god, this again, those kids were taking way too--
--can we please not get into this. elise, he's a partisan for his drugs of choice, you know that, the guy's a weirdo, but you love him, you accept him for who he is . . .
--bela, you really need to stop saying that.
--oh, you won't tell me who i love or don't love, lazzie!
--what the fuck do i even care! you can love whoever the hell you want, and then your pc can post a fucking status update about it!
--whoa, calm down there lazlo, here come the drinks. c'mon, elise, lazlo, let's sit here and be happy with our drinks . . .
--thanks for the drink, laz . . .
-- . . .
--so . . .
--yeah. sorry, elise, i didn't mean to raise my voice, or whatever . . .
--it was me. i, bela, was annoying lazlo before you arrived. i take all the blame.
--haha, that's alright, boys. little cute little boys . . . you guys saw my feed, wow, i was so bored! check it out--oh, that was really funny, bela, check it out, spelled c-z-e-c-h, you're so goofy--my social account has the boredom metric thing, i scored an eighty nine!
--yeah, you looked it. that's why i messaged you!
--come clean, lazlo, you asked bela to message me!
--no, and to set the record straight, i didn't see you on your feed, because i wouldn't watch your feed, or any feed for that matter, and i didn't know where you were or what you were doing, because i wouldn't stalk your foursquare, or anybody else's foursquare for that matter, and for god's sake i would never, ever have a look at a fucking boredom metric, because that is the most fucked up thing i've ever heard about in my life, how many fucking times do you think schopenhauer rolled over and kicked his grave when they came out with that thing, you know, like the fucking, i don't know, commodification of the final proof of man's superfluity and the, fucking, god, like life's fucking senselessness.
--bro, they exhumed all the graves like, a decade ago
--hahahaha!
--oh, god, that wasn't the--okay, forget it. i didn't say anything. elise, i'm sorry, but i have things to do, um, plans, you know. bela, i'll see you later. elise.
--you haven't got any plans and you know it!
--oh, i'm sorry, lazlo, am i bothering you? maybe you just wanted to talk to bela . . .
--no, i really do have plans.
--no, he's lying, elise. in fact it's my presence that's bothering him, that is my presence while he is in your presence. so i'll take my leave, well, wait, before i do, to prove it to you, i'll play back our earlier conversation, just watch how he basically jumps when i mention your name, and the inflection in his voice - lazlo's absolutely crazy about you . . . okay, one sec . . . 'so, elise.' 'yeah, what about her.' 'she was at connor's party.' 'what? why didn't you tell me?' 'um, everybody knew . . .' and so on and so on, you get the picture, elise.
--wait, play the rest! . . .
--it's private.
--i'll just buy it from the store!
--while you are certainly free to do that, elise, i would rather suggest that you sit here and cozy up a little bit to lazlo, who will tell you whatever your little ears want to hear. and with that, i'll take my leave. he's all yours, elise . . .
--hahaha! yay! come here, laz . . .
--oh my god . . .
TO BE CONTINUED
Edited by Impper ()
babyfinland
babyfinland
tardy on these heaters
Post rating:
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Petrol posted:just doing some research
nice kindle case bro.
Impper
Impper
Post rating:
+
2037 pt. 4
--what a seriously monster prick bela is, i'm sorry elise, i mean that you had to see that. he just really ticks me off sometimes, it doesn't have anything to do with you, i told him over and over not to text you, and it's just like--
--well, i guess you didn't want me here then?
--no, no, shit, that came out wrong. it wasn't anything about you, or like you and me and bela, or even fatima, you know? it was just, like, let me put it like this, it was about the fact that you were over there at tomtom and you put yourself in that fucking feed--and by the way, i really can't fucking stand bela, he's got to record everything, why would somebody ever do that, it's just so ridiculous, and it makes everything, shit, i don't know--and then you were like, just 'available' to be messaged, and he did it.
--what's wrong with that? i was just bored, lazlo, don't you hate being alone with nothing to do, everybody does.
--i don't like it, but that's not the point, it's not the point at all.
--anyway, if you think about it, it's free to record everything if you have a social account, and bela's life is more interesting than the average, we all know this, lazlo, and he makes some good money with the clips.
--no, no, all the money comes from when he's fucking or making out with people, it isn't his life, he fucks attractive women now and then, that's really all it is, elise.
--get out of here! i know a bunch of people that bought a ton of stuff from him! it wasn't all sex!
--oh yeah? what was it then?
--i mean, i don't know, yeah, it had to do with girls, usually, oh wait, no! there was that one fight! remember? when he helped those serbian guys or whatever stomp that dude . . .
--really, elise, come on, it was a fight, that may as well be porn, no, it's better, how many honest fights are there for sale on social? how often do you even see blood?.
--well then just to prove you wrong i'm going to buy your earlier conversation--right now!
--please, please don't do that, elise, and another thing, hey, goddammit, pay attention!
--oh, sorry, i forgot how much you hate that.
--no, no, you just haven't got any idea how ugly you are when you do that.
--do you really think so?
--come on, i'm not singling you out, everybody is ugly when that shit glosses over their eyes, it's like, you know, that faint image of what they're looking at, but you can't really make it out, it hints at something, like aggressively mysteriously, and it's so fucking annoying, god damn, and what's more it's really rude, really really rude, elise, we're in a conversation, you know, and it's like a big fuck you, because something, whatever it is, is clearly far more important than the person you're talking to. it's a loud fuck you.
--you'll never guess what i got then . . .
--what, i don't know? . . .
--i bought one of the new skins, it's a really good one, like they scanned my eye and it projects like a living image of my eye, you know, my actual eye, in the actual moment, haha, sorry i'm not good at explaining it, but it also like, scans you, your eyes that is, and can do eye contact, even like, nervous eye contact--there are a lot of settings and i haven't really figured it out yet. here, check it out . . .
--what, i don't see anything.
--yeah! so it works! haha, i'm watching your conversation right now, i mean, i just started it, like seriously two seconds ago . . . ahh! haha! oh my god, lazlo! you and bela have the biggest crushes on each other! i want you guys to just start making out!
--oh my god, please, please, please turn that off, elise, i'm begging you, really.
--hahaha! the spectacle of the disconnect! i remember the night when you were saying, that, wait--oh, god!
--please stop . . .
--bela! does he really think that? he thinks i love you? he's being serious!
--elise, i'm being serious . . .
--ah! that was supposed to be secret! i mean, you looked good that night, you did something with your hair, i stared, so sue me, it was like i couldn't--ahh! bela's so funny . . .
--jesus god, it's like you really are looking into my eyes . . .
--awwww, you really do like me, don't you, lazlo? so mean to fatima . . . --HEY! what are you doing?
--you need to fucking stop! look at me, look at me--no, with your real eyes, oh god dammit. i think i'm going to fucking lose it . . . i'm really sorry, elise.
--sorry! sorry, hey, see? i turned it off!
--how would i even be able to tell?
--so you like me after all, lazlo!
--no, i--
--what kind of boy grabs a girl like that if he doesn't like her?
--you don't--
--i'm just kidding, i'm just kidding, baby. oh, aww, i didn't mean to terrorize you! look at you! i forgot . . . i mean i didn't know you felt so strongly, or, i don't know, that you were so passionate about that authenticity stuff . . . so you really mean all of that?
--i mean, fuck it, yes, i do mean all of that. because it's just so wrong and broken, sorry, i'm legitimately freaked out, you freaked me out, elise, i can't really find the words. but yes i do mean it and i did mean it when i said it, everything, that is. what are you doing? your eyes are lighting up again, we just--
--i just ordered a round of drinks for us. it was rude, sorry, but i want to hear what you have to say about this . . . sorry, i mean, maybe i didn't take you so seriously before . . .
--no, that's alright, elise. see you later . . .
--hey!
TO BE CONTINUED
--what a seriously monster prick bela is, i'm sorry elise, i mean that you had to see that. he just really ticks me off sometimes, it doesn't have anything to do with you, i told him over and over not to text you, and it's just like--
--well, i guess you didn't want me here then?
--no, no, shit, that came out wrong. it wasn't anything about you, or like you and me and bela, or even fatima, you know? it was just, like, let me put it like this, it was about the fact that you were over there at tomtom and you put yourself in that fucking feed--and by the way, i really can't fucking stand bela, he's got to record everything, why would somebody ever do that, it's just so ridiculous, and it makes everything, shit, i don't know--and then you were like, just 'available' to be messaged, and he did it.
--what's wrong with that? i was just bored, lazlo, don't you hate being alone with nothing to do, everybody does.
--i don't like it, but that's not the point, it's not the point at all.
--anyway, if you think about it, it's free to record everything if you have a social account, and bela's life is more interesting than the average, we all know this, lazlo, and he makes some good money with the clips.
--no, no, all the money comes from when he's fucking or making out with people, it isn't his life, he fucks attractive women now and then, that's really all it is, elise.
--get out of here! i know a bunch of people that bought a ton of stuff from him! it wasn't all sex!
--oh yeah? what was it then?
--i mean, i don't know, yeah, it had to do with girls, usually, oh wait, no! there was that one fight! remember? when he helped those serbian guys or whatever stomp that dude . . .
--really, elise, come on, it was a fight, that may as well be porn, no, it's better, how many honest fights are there for sale on social? how often do you even see blood?.
--well then just to prove you wrong i'm going to buy your earlier conversation--right now!
--please, please don't do that, elise, and another thing, hey, goddammit, pay attention!
--oh, sorry, i forgot how much you hate that.
--no, no, you just haven't got any idea how ugly you are when you do that.
--do you really think so?
--come on, i'm not singling you out, everybody is ugly when that shit glosses over their eyes, it's like, you know, that faint image of what they're looking at, but you can't really make it out, it hints at something, like aggressively mysteriously, and it's so fucking annoying, god damn, and what's more it's really rude, really really rude, elise, we're in a conversation, you know, and it's like a big fuck you, because something, whatever it is, is clearly far more important than the person you're talking to. it's a loud fuck you.
--you'll never guess what i got then . . .
--what, i don't know? . . .
--i bought one of the new skins, it's a really good one, like they scanned my eye and it projects like a living image of my eye, you know, my actual eye, in the actual moment, haha, sorry i'm not good at explaining it, but it also like, scans you, your eyes that is, and can do eye contact, even like, nervous eye contact--there are a lot of settings and i haven't really figured it out yet. here, check it out . . .
--what, i don't see anything.
--yeah! so it works! haha, i'm watching your conversation right now, i mean, i just started it, like seriously two seconds ago . . . ahh! haha! oh my god, lazlo! you and bela have the biggest crushes on each other! i want you guys to just start making out!
--oh my god, please, please, please turn that off, elise, i'm begging you, really.
--hahaha! the spectacle of the disconnect! i remember the night when you were saying, that, wait--oh, god!
--please stop . . .
--bela! does he really think that? he thinks i love you? he's being serious!
--elise, i'm being serious . . .
--ah! that was supposed to be secret! i mean, you looked good that night, you did something with your hair, i stared, so sue me, it was like i couldn't--ahh! bela's so funny . . .
--jesus god, it's like you really are looking into my eyes . . .
--awwww, you really do like me, don't you, lazlo? so mean to fatima . . . --HEY! what are you doing?
--you need to fucking stop! look at me, look at me--no, with your real eyes, oh god dammit. i think i'm going to fucking lose it . . . i'm really sorry, elise.
--sorry! sorry, hey, see? i turned it off!
--how would i even be able to tell?
--so you like me after all, lazlo!
--no, i--
--what kind of boy grabs a girl like that if he doesn't like her?
--you don't--
--i'm just kidding, i'm just kidding, baby. oh, aww, i didn't mean to terrorize you! look at you! i forgot . . . i mean i didn't know you felt so strongly, or, i don't know, that you were so passionate about that authenticity stuff . . . so you really mean all of that?
--i mean, fuck it, yes, i do mean all of that. because it's just so wrong and broken, sorry, i'm legitimately freaked out, you freaked me out, elise, i can't really find the words. but yes i do mean it and i did mean it when i said it, everything, that is. what are you doing? your eyes are lighting up again, we just--
--i just ordered a round of drinks for us. it was rude, sorry, but i want to hear what you have to say about this . . . sorry, i mean, maybe i didn't take you so seriously before . . .
--no, that's alright, elise. see you later . . .
--hey!
TO BE CONTINUED
Flying_horse_in_saudi_arabia
Flying_horse_in_saudi_arabia
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babyfinland posted:nice kindle case bro.
that's a barnes and noble nook simple touch. but, thanks.
cleanhands
cleanhands
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500mg of moda is probably the point wher eyou cant really do anything except listen to yourself breathing and try to hold the perfect rhythm
cleanhands
cleanhands
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he does talk like someone on moda and speed though so ill give you that
Impper
Impper
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i've done 700-900 of modafinil in a night, while drinking of course, and it's really not as bad as you say. mixing it with other ups is fun though and yes, that is a thing
gyrofry
gyrofry
Kurdt
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its mody
[account deactivated]
cleanhands
cleanhands
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i cant stand taking more than 100mg its a recreational hobby aid not a drug
jools
jools
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TALK ABOUT MODY IN THE DISCUSSION THREAD MY GUYS AND BROS
stegosaurus
stegosaurus
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ECONOMIC MANAGEMENT DEPARTMENT, PEOPLES UNIVERSITY OF BEIJING WORKING PAPER SERIES 1967 # 4
HEDGING AGAINST CAPITALIST RESTORATION: BOMBARD THE HEADQUARTERS (extract)
BY WU SHU, ECONOMIC MANAGEMENT DEPARTMENT, PEOPLES UNIVERSITY OF BEIJING
Translated from the Chinese by Stephen Stego
"Planning and competition can be combined only by planning for competition, not by planning against competition. The planning against which all our criticism is directed is solely the planning against competition." - F.A. Hayek, The Road to Serfdom
Hayek, an Austrian in exile, wrote a book on economics which like the finest literature combines the particular with the universal. In his case, the particulars included the fascist scourge which at that time was hegemonic in mainland Europe. Coming from an environment which he had understood intimately, that of his native Austria, and knowing that fascism had triumphed not only militarily but socially, with the broadest agreement of large swathes of the population to the Anschluss, must have aroused in him profound, almost paranoiac levels of suspicion, which he directed at the remaining, non-fascist western countries in whose economies and polities he saw the lurking danger of fascism which had engulfed his homeland. Far from condemning him to neruoticism, his deep analysis of western capitalist economies has resulted in a subtle and highly useful study. His condemnation of concentrated power, his deep humanity, his astute sense of strategy, is evident from the above quote. His book is a service to all those in the party who, following Chairman Mao's revolutionary line, uphold the ideal, the universal of communism as the greatest possible liberation of human talents, over and against all forms of coercion and control.
Who can forget the years of hardship which served as the most perfect demonstration of the corrupting influence of parasitic bureaucracy and inept absentee control? Who can forget the perverse incentives provided to village production brigades, for the production of things which they were not prepared or equipped or taught how to produce? Who is responsible for such a travesty? Their names are not important (though they know who they are), more to my point, and to Hayek's, is the fact that there are names, and only a few, at whose feet we may lay the blame. For, if all the people had been in control, if the masses had really been in charge of the employment of their own energies, what calamity could have ensued? The recent productive distortions have their origins in the megalomania of a few party officials who are placing China on the capitalist road, on the road straight back to the serfdom characteristic of the pre-war era, when dictates arrived from on high and the only creativity allowed for in the lives of individuals was put to the service of fooling or sabotaging the established order, instead of improving human lives and enthusiastically building real socialism. Thanks to the initiative of Chairman Mao against these officials and the Confucian cobwebs which insulate their brain from the new infallible science of Marxism-Leninism-Maoism, we now stand at the threshold of an era where such enthusiastic building is possible on a grand scale.
Turning from matters pertaining to China internally, to her relations with other states, Hayek's quote acquires additional meaning. Internationally China is isolated, and must obey the dictates of the prevailing global method of production. Investment must be marshalled and applied most intensely to the purpose of capital accumulation. Trade balances must be maintained. We are in no less existential danger than was the Soviet Union forty years ago. Imperialist and capitalist subversion, at home and abroad, in the party and in the street, must be constantly guarded against. It can not merely be written out of existence, or assumed away. It cannot be planned against. It must be planned for. Those, like the now-infamous traitor Liu Shao-chi, who advocated against national autarky and for integration with capitalist economies, effectively planned against competition, by commanding the people to not compete against the capitalists in the construction of complicated and obscure machinery, especially in sectors such as shipbuilding where China has precious little experience. Liu Shao-chi instead told the workers to look above for guidance, or, more properly, abroad, to the foreign experts with their wretched formalism, their abominable aristocratic conception of science and their criminal lack of creativity. He told the workers to suppress their own talents, their own spirit of enterprise and service, and to submit to the dictates of those who, despite the fact that they are few in number and cannot possibly have absorbed as much experience as the multitudes of skilled workers, are alleged to have the superior knowledge of production. Hayek, like Chairman Mao, and like all true communists and earnest friends of the people, stand resolutely on the barricades of production and legitimate science against such revisionism. The commanding heights and the superstructures should not be left to isolated cabals, whatever their histories, national origins, or professed aims. The masses must occupy the superstructure, they must bombard the headquarters, reduce it to rubble.
HEDGING AGAINST CAPITALIST RESTORATION: BOMBARD THE HEADQUARTERS (extract)
BY WU SHU, ECONOMIC MANAGEMENT DEPARTMENT, PEOPLES UNIVERSITY OF BEIJING
Translated from the Chinese by Stephen Stego
"Planning and competition can be combined only by planning for competition, not by planning against competition. The planning against which all our criticism is directed is solely the planning against competition." - F.A. Hayek, The Road to Serfdom
Hayek, an Austrian in exile, wrote a book on economics which like the finest literature combines the particular with the universal. In his case, the particulars included the fascist scourge which at that time was hegemonic in mainland Europe. Coming from an environment which he had understood intimately, that of his native Austria, and knowing that fascism had triumphed not only militarily but socially, with the broadest agreement of large swathes of the population to the Anschluss, must have aroused in him profound, almost paranoiac levels of suspicion, which he directed at the remaining, non-fascist western countries in whose economies and polities he saw the lurking danger of fascism which had engulfed his homeland. Far from condemning him to neruoticism, his deep analysis of western capitalist economies has resulted in a subtle and highly useful study. His condemnation of concentrated power, his deep humanity, his astute sense of strategy, is evident from the above quote. His book is a service to all those in the party who, following Chairman Mao's revolutionary line, uphold the ideal, the universal of communism as the greatest possible liberation of human talents, over and against all forms of coercion and control.
Who can forget the years of hardship which served as the most perfect demonstration of the corrupting influence of parasitic bureaucracy and inept absentee control? Who can forget the perverse incentives provided to village production brigades, for the production of things which they were not prepared or equipped or taught how to produce? Who is responsible for such a travesty? Their names are not important (though they know who they are), more to my point, and to Hayek's, is the fact that there are names, and only a few, at whose feet we may lay the blame. For, if all the people had been in control, if the masses had really been in charge of the employment of their own energies, what calamity could have ensued? The recent productive distortions have their origins in the megalomania of a few party officials who are placing China on the capitalist road, on the road straight back to the serfdom characteristic of the pre-war era, when dictates arrived from on high and the only creativity allowed for in the lives of individuals was put to the service of fooling or sabotaging the established order, instead of improving human lives and enthusiastically building real socialism. Thanks to the initiative of Chairman Mao against these officials and the Confucian cobwebs which insulate their brain from the new infallible science of Marxism-Leninism-Maoism, we now stand at the threshold of an era where such enthusiastic building is possible on a grand scale.
Turning from matters pertaining to China internally, to her relations with other states, Hayek's quote acquires additional meaning. Internationally China is isolated, and must obey the dictates of the prevailing global method of production. Investment must be marshalled and applied most intensely to the purpose of capital accumulation. Trade balances must be maintained. We are in no less existential danger than was the Soviet Union forty years ago. Imperialist and capitalist subversion, at home and abroad, in the party and in the street, must be constantly guarded against. It can not merely be written out of existence, or assumed away. It cannot be planned against. It must be planned for. Those, like the now-infamous traitor Liu Shao-chi, who advocated against national autarky and for integration with capitalist economies, effectively planned against competition, by commanding the people to not compete against the capitalists in the construction of complicated and obscure machinery, especially in sectors such as shipbuilding where China has precious little experience. Liu Shao-chi instead told the workers to look above for guidance, or, more properly, abroad, to the foreign experts with their wretched formalism, their abominable aristocratic conception of science and their criminal lack of creativity. He told the workers to suppress their own talents, their own spirit of enterprise and service, and to submit to the dictates of those who, despite the fact that they are few in number and cannot possibly have absorbed as much experience as the multitudes of skilled workers, are alleged to have the superior knowledge of production. Hayek, like Chairman Mao, and like all true communists and earnest friends of the people, stand resolutely on the barricades of production and legitimate science against such revisionism. The commanding heights and the superstructures should not be left to isolated cabals, whatever their histories, national origins, or professed aims. The masses must occupy the superstructure, they must bombard the headquarters, reduce it to rubble.
[account deactivated]
Flying_horse_in_saudi_arabia
Flying_horse_in_saudi_arabia
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this thread better not unsticky before im done because i havent been reading my little pony fanfic for nothing
EmanuelaBrolandi
EmanuelaBrolandi
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i hate to be the bearer of bad news but: trap sprung. they're not even gonna accept your entry. jools ghost wrote fallout equestria for t money yo
EmanuelaBrolandi
EmanuelaBrolandi
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they're just trying to get another rave review on amazon for their ebook that has already outsold jan crustys novel truck and enjoy by a factor of 5
Flying_horse_in_saudi_arabia
Flying_horse_in_saudi_arabia
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well thats fine because i can get this masterpiece published on thought catalog any time i want
jools
jools
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i want at least a few entries that arent dystopia fanfic so its open for that
babyfinland
babyfinland
tardy on these heaters
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EXCERPT FROM A LEFTIST PLEA FOR 'EUROCENTRISM'
SLAVOJ ZIZEK.
CRITICAL INQUIRY, SUMMER 1998. VOLUME 24, NUMBER 4.
SLAVOJ ZIZEK.
CRITICAL INQUIRY, SUMMER 1998. VOLUME 24, NUMBER 4.
babyfinland
babyfinland
tardy on these heaters
Post rating:
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The political struggle proper is therefore never simply a rational debate between multiple interests but, simultaneously, the struggle for one's voice to be heard and recognized as that of a legitimate partner. When the excluded, from the Greek demos to Polish workers, protested against the ruling elite (the aristocracy or nomenklatura), the true stakes were not only their explicit demands (for higher wages, better working conditions, and so forth) but their very right to be heard and recognized as an equal participant in the debate.
what a friggin fascist this guy
[account deactivated]
EmanuelaBrolandi
EmanuelaBrolandi
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SOSIE WINS!!!!