The Philosophy Now Forum

Can you even imagine the audacity someone would have to have to say, "hm-hm-hm... yes, perhaps it's the great responsibility that capital demands that dissuades the lowly working class from ever wanting to improve themselves. *snicker* Who is this ghastly man?"

"In fact only ones who seemed a bit immune to all the bullshit were gen x, but now they are faded into the distance doing their drugs or rock n roll thing, they realized long ago there is no point fighting for a dying world."

Somebody understands! When the day comes that you realize anyone less than 50 years old is a zombie and that the last living generation on erf is going extinct now, there's nothing left to do but ROCK.

It's incredible that this never occurred to me until now. I'm surrendering another license plate because i can't afford the renewal (for reasons listed in manifesto) and was happy that my monthly insurance payment would come down a hair due to the car being removed from the policy.

Then a flash of lightning and thunder. READ: If you can only drive one car at a time, why are you paying to insure two or more cars? Holy shit you never thought about it.

So not only is there a capitalist raping you for maybe causing a wreck (here you're guilty even after proven innocent because you never get any of that money back) but he's charging you to insure vehicles that aren't even being driven.

This feature of western culture has existed for so long the peoples think it is acceptable. It absolutely is not, and just this alone is reason enough to be criminal in this society. Forget about the innumerable other reasons.

Oh, it's such good existentialism. I'm being drawn and quartered from all directions. My work, livelihood, and eligibility as a renter seven-eighths ruined by the State. My total loss of freedom of movement; i could not even be homeless if i wanted for risk of being arrested. My complete social isolation (excepting the internet); who wants to have to explain to someone my charges... both the ones I'm guilty and not guilty of. Six years of time during which i would be working and building savings for old age, etc., taken by the State. These terms mentioned will remain for the rest of my life. There absolutely couldn't be a better novel. You'd not tell the reader of his crime until the very end. These are called 'book-droppers'. When you shout, "What?!... he flashed some people? Are you kidding me? That's it?!", throw the open paperback face down onto the couch with a splat and stomp into the kitchen, mumbling, "I can't believe this."

One is overcome by two emotions at the same time to produce a wonderful conflict. One, there is sympathy for the protagonist. Two, there is anger and disappointment. You wanted him to be a real monster, not a martyr. When you find out he was a good guy, you feel let down and betrayed. This is gone in a moment, though, and one is drawn back again to the tragic irony. This would be what makes it a tragedy rather than just a thriller, see.

Now look at this fantastic shit. Posting ads daily, weekly. Nothing. Slowly widdling away my cash. I get a call and leap up from a couch in delight. Oh, never mind... can't haul my thirty foot ladder because a capitalist destroyed my truck for only $5000 plus credit card interest. Wouldn't be able to reach the fascia, sorry. Click.

Wait... another call only a whole week later! This one's a five hundred dollar lick, and i don't need my truck. I buy four gallons of stain, drive to bro's house, and...

https://voca.ro/12sojEDcIxRZ

Why is this so good. Because the reader is three-quarters of the way through the book, so he's been through it all. This isn't just a guy who lost a job. This is a guy who so needs this job at this moment that the righteousness of his need reaches straight up into the heavens and knocks god right-the-f*** out his chair.

The stuff that makes atheists. Really, nothing is more important right now than turning the peoples against this curse of religion and god. The peoples need these novels so they can stop thinking god is good because he cured someone of their acne one time. They need this material. They need tragedy and martyrdom of the most severe kind beyond even the story of Job... a silly story no philosopher would take seriously; making a bet with your evil counterpart (which you created, btw) that no matter how much you make a dude suffer he'll still be your bitch.

This is not metaphysics. This is a children's bedtime story. What the people want is the antihero, the promethean type who suffers the curses of the gods... who will never surrender despite the tragic fate his righteousness will bring him. They want a man who defies god... not just with the t-shirt. The guy who is the living embodiment of the most essential kinds of betrayal that can exist on erf. Through such a guy, they develop the courage to look more critically at just how stupid shit is. No... there is no design here... no plans, no tests, trials, stages, none of that.

You make the man have to submit that god is a capricious god who has not designed things with the interests of man in mind.... or that there is no god.

Here's some footage of me trying to get out of the courtroom back in 2011.

https://youtube.com/shorts/OsnKlWvzj1M? ... oj1tAYuxXP

These are on Discovery channel all the time. Lol, one episode of this is worth about a bachelor's degree in philosophy 'cause all the REAL questions are answered here.

https://youtu.be/238UQeOGWAg?is=ENpuYDWh7gonYG5n

In this one, the judge is denying bail to keep the revenue up despite inmates sleeping under tables and beside toilets. Officer Kayleigh the lesbian said the judge likes'ta teach em a lesson 'n keep in jail... mmhm. Strange, because it seems that these jail stays haven't and don't deter the fellas from future criminal activity as the record has shown. Reckon that's not true and that instead you're in the toilet of a capitalism racket, there is no god, your federal and state governments are trash, these people are two genes away from being troglodytes, you are a lesbian, and this whole city should be bombed? Reckon that might be true instead?

This is extraordinary. Ten years later and the cat lady still doesn't know what's going on. Let me explain.

The cycle is like this. I say horrible things to and about the cat lady, and then she tries to parry with character assassination. Today, she asks in a smart-ass condescending tone, "What year was it when you were stealing from all those cars again?"

This means that in her head... still to this day... she either a) doesn't know why i was breaking into cars but upon knowing why would submit that it was necessary, or b) believes that i should have let the state troopers arrest me after an administrative mistake on their end... one which, i would add, would have never happened had the 2010 wrongful charges never happened. You've seen a snowball roll down a hill, yeah? How it keeps getting bigger 'n bigger. Same thing but different kinda.

And here it is. Irony so fantastic you could just die. This piece of incompetent shit that shouldn't be trusted to raise a goldfish much less a child, who should be wanting to bend over backward to help her very own son who has been imprisoned twice.... twice... (if we start here and not with the wrongful institutionalizations that began at 12), whose life is ruined by the SOR, whose property is ruined by vandals and capitalists in the years to come trying to recover from lost time in prison and rebuild some kind of life, whom without which the piece of shit wouldn't even be able to manage taking the trash out and would be eventually hauled away in a truck with her collection of cat feces by social services.... this piece of shit actually thinks I'm a common car thief as well as a perverted ex-exhibitionist. I'll give her the latter... but then that would be a sickness, and we sick folks should be given sympathy and treatment, no? Nevermind that.

Ten years later, and i am daily interacting with someone (an immediate relative) who thinks i deserved the sentences i got and that I'm breaking into cars because I'm just a loser thief. This despicable disgusting cat shit collecting slob that can't figure out how to put a car window down (literally) but has to have the greenest grass so all the black neighbors with normal yards can envy her, sees herself as superior to me. I would post a pic of her but for fear of embarrassment.

Today, I'm "a petty car thief" who shouldn't be helped.

I've explained the thief stuff at least three or four times. I almost kick myself in the ass for not just robbing people when on the run and unable to work because of active warrants instead of sparing people and stealing from cars. Had i done that, i wouldn't have had to live with a piece of shit that ten years later still wouldn't know what happened and thought i was breaking into cars just for the f*** of it.

Shallow people (like you?) wouldn't feel the gravity of something like this. This is not just a stupid trivial misunderstanding. This is a layer of ironies so fantastic it is as if some supernatural forz is trying to turn me into a monsta. I'd post the audio, but i was shouting so loud even I'm embarrassed to hear it. It's a form of pure retard catharsis rage... like brain messed up rage. The kind of rage where you're like, "Mm-hm, yep, that guy would kill her if he could get away with it."

Lol. Imagine what kind of respect is being witheld from you... no, that's too difficult for you to understand. Just do this: think of the worst kind of human being. Now pretend everyone thinks you're that human being. And add this real kicker. A good eighty percent of those people are actually inferior to you and not even able to raise objection to anything that you might be (would be like a monkey trying to criticize Einstein).

How do you act when you're around em? Do you even seek them out at all? No way. These are people below you who have unjustified hatred of you. This is simply unbearable. Hatred, contempt, can only come from above and is worth nothing if not from a superior.

But to be forced to live among these insects who have this nerve.

"Be careful when fighting monstas...."

note that the engineer spawned a new xenomorph (Deacon) species once impregnated by the trilobite.

Always carefully examine the terms any time someone professes to be doing you a favor. Start with the premise that all human beings are shysters who will overinflate what they do for you and underinflate what you do for them. Not for any malevolence because there is no free will or bad will (all men do what they think they should - Plato?)... but because it is a behavior strategy that increases ones wealth and/or social standing. You automatically do it, so you're good, bruh. I mean you're bad but you're good because now you know you're bad. Nvm.

Anecdotal examples. You use someone's credit card. They claim this is a big favor. Okay... what determines what a favor is? Or rather, does the value of the favor increase if the giver loses more when doing the favor? Or decrease if the giver loses less?

If, in the end, the result is only a better credit rating for the card giver once you've paid your balance off.... how exactly is anything lost or sacrificed by loaning the card? Is it not, in fact, the opposite case? That the borrower actually did you the favor?

Almost every day, i am reminded of how much the cat lady has sacrificed by letting me use her card to lose six or seven grand with. Next year, her credit rating will be off the charts, and I'll have lost six or seven thousand dollars. This is how much she lost and how much i profited from 'the credit card incident'.

As an aside, you see what just happened there? You got to see what it's like to be a philosopher for a brief second. You stepped out of the cave, as it were. What you thought was happening and what you were ready to do - praise the cat lady and condemn me - now becomes shit, and you feel dirty for having thought it, for continuing to think it if i had not just brought you out of it.

Well, that's what it's like being a philosopher. It's shocking and not just on bumper stickers. Things actually very, very often aren't what they seem to be, indeed..

Note: a truck with 285,000 miles on it can't be sold at a reasonable price... with or without a rebuilt trans. So that trans rebuild money is lost if i never get this truck fixed (which is likely... remember the snowball thing... murphy's law to the third power.

Next, we have this one. If you let someone stay in a room of a house given to you while charging that person utility money, what are you actually sacrificing or losing in the doing of this favor? But wait. What if that person also takes care (chores, etc) of that house given to you so you, yourself, while living in it, don't have to do anything but make a mess and collect cat feces (over a hundred pounds, literally)?

Are you still doing this person a favor? Shirley not... quite the contrary. But would you try to convince the person that you were to keep him in your debt because you're a useless, needy, twice divorced, self-destructive piece of shit that bathes twice a month?

Discuss!

who is spending 100 pounds for cat feces?

-Imp

On the other hand, if cat manure were a gardening commodity in the UK, the cat lady could have started a small business.

Some shrinks count that as a comorbidity of mental illness and low intelligence. The cat lady isn't a hoarder, though. Quite frequently, cat ladies are hoarders, while this one is the opposite; obsessive about nice decor and no clutter. Now, this is interesting here. Her personal space, the computer desk where she sits ALL day, is a wanton disarray of old dishes and bowls in a structurally unsound stack, plastic Bavarian creme doughnut containers, vapes, pods, oils, note pad notes, note pad notes, and note pad notes. It's this personal space that reflects a person's real integrity, respect, and appreciation of order. The obsession for order everywhere else is a facade meant to fool others into thinking she's a respectable person. What if you found out this person vapes so much she has to lean on one elbow on the counter when spooning out servings onto her plate because she'll run out of breath if she doesn't. This enables her to breath very heavily directly onto any food in front of her. Deep, struggling heaving breathes like a dying animal's last. She makes no effort to not do that. Doesn't move the food to the left or herself to the right a little. Leans right down into the food and breathes on it. There is not the slightest thought that this is obscene.

Would you still be impressed by the grass that's so green it doesn't even look real... or you would be like "oh that's just another retired neurotic baby boomer cat lady that's probably a slob and stays on the phone all day arguing with bank reps about account misunderstandings and pending this and transaction that because she's too dumb to bank online or through an app and can't see or understand anything going on without a human being reporting to her every five minutes so she can make sure she didn't overdraw from one of her accounts when she bought a tomato from Lowe's Foods..."

A tomato that was, very incidentally, very quite past being ripe. This would develop into yet another phone call immediately after to the grocery store to complain and demand credit. This phone call, which should take all of five minutes if two competent people are talking, ends up becoming a thirty minute phone call after the hold time (from capitalist's short staffing) and a few minutes trying to explain the tomato to Tanesha.

Lemme tell you something about self-respect and order, son. Why, when i was 15 and in court-ordered wilderness camp, i kept my footlocker and military corners so tight you could bounce a fuckin' barbell off my bunk. Would jog up to three miles in calf-high herman survivor work boots that weighed as much as a small microwave oven. Dig a nine foot deep by five foot wide privy hole with a pick-axe, mattox, and shovel in like half a day. Three of us juvenile deliquents diggin' a privy hole like we wuz in a scene in Life. Nary a one of us a day before 12 or a day after 16. Cloth headbands as if we were guerrilla fighters. Red carolina clay smudged all over your face from wiping sweat with a dirty hand. A comradery that only adolescent males trying to out-do one another at some competitive event or other can attain. We weren't even sure we were being punished, in fact. Punishment? This shit was fun! Our old mans' insurance is paying thousands of dollars a day to keep us in here, and it ends up being one EPIC eleven month long camping hiking work camp trip we are all thrilled to be a part of? Irony!

What happened? Why does the kid no longer resent the fact that he came home from school one day and found his old man waiting to take him to Three Springs where he would be assembled into a company of five to nine reprobates from five different sides of the track that would be escorted into the middle of the woods and instructed to build a small village with a hand saw and some dowel rods? New arrivals walking down the campsite trail carrying footlockers chain style and trippin' on roots 'n shit. One kid falls and drops his end of the footlocker. He jumps up so not to look like a wuss. A veritable Breakfast Club court-ordered to impatient treatment in THE Three Springs Wilderness Camp Program. Legendary in its time.

Anyway, if the earliest discovery of yourself comes at a time and place where you are building character strength and self-admiration and respect as fast as you are being challenged by the extraordinary tasks that you complete, your... what, manhood?... is accelerated beyond what can be genuinely felt by ordinary adolescent bros. That center or core of character stays with you for life if circumstances such as mine happen at the right age. Too soon, and the boy won't be able to recognize or be exhilarated by his own achievements. Too late, and his character is already established from years or ordinary and mundane accomplishment.

As Plato rightly surmised, the youf should grow up and develop through a series of educational stages... the earliest stages being deducated almost exclusively to physical development, courage, will power etc. Sports... or wilderness camps if you are an unruly youf from the city.

"[...] Give a young man these things, and he'll always have a noble character even if he becomes a criminal" - Brosopocleseus, On The Establishment Of The Platonic Order Of Metals And The Rank Of The Soul

The plot thickens in tales from the working class crypt.

You will recall the fence stain job that i lost for being honest and telling the dude he didn't absolutely need to get it stained. I bought the stain with my debit card, returned the stain, and won't see the money in my account for 3-5 business days.

A couple days later, i get a small set of trex steps for a new sunroom. But a) my truck is out of commission, so i have to spend $80 and have the material delivered, and b) i can't buy the material myself because i won't have the money to do so for 3-5 days.

She agrees to do a phone purchase herself. I place the order at Lowe's after a thirty minute phone hold. Bro calls her to do the phone purchase but can't get her card to work. She calls me. I call Lowe's and tell someone other than Kevin to do a phone purchase for Diane. I give them her number. She calls me and says they can't get her card to work. We give up on Lowe's.

I drive to Home Depot on fumes (see manifesto), place the order and am told that location doesn't do phone purchases. I leave.

Tomorrow, i will call another Home Depot and try again.

Four hours into it, i discover finally that it was all in vain. Over an hour on the phone between being on hold and incompetent associates and 30 min driving for naught.

The cherry on top. Because i could not place the order today, when i finally do it will be delivered too late for me to make the money in time to make a car insurance payment for a car i haven't driven in months, so I'll pay a penalty fee. One that if I had been driving would be 99.9 percent of the time unlikely to be the cause of a wreck.

Apples. Nice, big red delicious apples with beads of crystal clear water droplets sliding down their scarlet red skins. Who doesn't like those apples?

What should we call the trading class like the crypto guys? These are neither capitalists nor wage workers, so how tf are they making money? Alright... you know those seagulls that crowd the shrimp boats when they're out on the water? That's a good analogy.

This class makes money from the failure of nervous wage workers trying to find a way to supplement their income. They start with a decent sized chunk of money and buy the crypto that's sold by the nervous wage workers who quickly find out how volatile the market is, regret trying to play the crypto game and sell all their crypto at a loss. The seagulls hover above, waiting for scraps of crypto that fall off the boat when this happens.

This class, if you can imagine it, is even less productive than the capitalist. The capitalist will sometimes participate a little in the chains of production while the crypto trader is completely redundant. He does absolutely nothing productive, produces nothing of value, and feeds off the failures of petty crypto gamblers trying to supplement their measly incomes. Seagulls, bro.

Kay, so we can't get anyone on the phone at Home Depot to place an order because that would lower the CEO's profit margins (for having to staff his business properly) and make shopping easier for the customer whose paying artificially inflated prices because of the useless third party parasite's added cut.

We shall then drive to the customer residence, unload all the tools there to make room, drive back to the Home Depot, buy the material, and cut it in the parking lot so it will fit in my Exscalade.

For every second of my time wasted on this nonsense because I don't have my truck, the State and its criminal capitalists sign another death warrant.

"From monitoring the temperature of our ICE cream to understanding and tracking our DELIVERIES..."

Listen to the speech. The 'flavor temptress' sounds like an eleventh grader when she talks.

Lol... "understanding" our deliveries like it's not just a date on your computer and instead some kind of complex scientific phenomena that can't be comprehended unless you're a successful capitalist who uses spectrum business.

Excessive verbosity employed by capitalist advertisers is used to attract customers by feigning sophistication of the product. You don't just buy a beard trimmer... you buy the titanium personal hair care SYSTEM gx7.

Fuckin A i would rob that woman before you could even spell ice-cream. How much you wanna bet one scoop of that crap is like ten dollars so she can sit at home and watch Ellen DeGeneres skin care instructionals all day?

https://youtu.be/QCXMpLMUdT0?is=2FRi-8ekPUdx_UF8