Things that bear saying

We're looking down the barrel of a massive chaff cannon.

What the hell does that mean? Chaff cannons fire...well, chaff, a kind of foil and particulate mass that's deployed to confuse missiles, and even fuck with radio signals and such, depending on type and deployment. What we're looking at now is the social equivalent of a chaff bomb. There isn't any real focus, or direction, the idea is just to confuse and sludge the lines and direction as much as possible. It's the same sort of thing Sup Forums has done more then once, think of it like a wide scale sociological DDOS attack.

Why is this? Because things are slipping, fast. The internet was a lovely tool to control consensus and monitor the people, but it's also given birth to a roaring gestalt being that is screeching with every suppressed or marginalized voice. The problem the powers that be have with this, is it's actually suppressed and marginalized voices, not those the media has pushed as the poor and downtrodden. It's the great piping of the silent majority, the grumbling of millions pressed and amplified. The other issue is, so many find it familiar. It echos too many suppressed feelings, it feels too right to ignore for overlong. Suddenly people are speaking in social networks about how things arn't right, questioning what was supposed to be a sure thing, a perfect, logical state. The same tool that allowed the powers that be to tap in to the collective will also allowed that will a direct, uncontrollable outlet.

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Is this the thesis for you sociology term paper?

As the voice of the mob gets louder and louder, choices have been forced to be made.

We're supposed to just be quiet and accepting. The powers that be have a very bad habit of declaring victory before a fight has even started, and it's been going on so long many have started to believe their own statements of victory. This recent wave of rejection and resistance has come totally unexpected, a feral snarling from a supposedly domesticated species. Bannings, shaming, general clamping down, nothing is working, the voice keeps screaming and it's getting more articulate by the day. Either this needs to be accepted, and concessions made with the hope of recovery later...or the throat needs to be cut.

Facebook is a cancer, yes, but it's here now. The radical, mad voice has leaked too deeply in to it, and other nodules of the social network. The social network must die, and be reborn as something easier to control. That will take time, though.

Power could be expressed and gained through the social network taps, regardless of the structure of government. Who cares who sits in the chair, if you control both the media and the voice of public opinion. However, it's slipping, and fast. there is a scramble in many high halls to shore up defenses and structures that have been left to rot in the more immediate, flashy focus on the media and social networks. Facebook's recent fall from grace is the first really visible effect of this shift.

Facebook isn't noble, and the social network machine is more than worthy of death, but it's easy to get distracted. it's an symptom of the larger shift: the grand, suicidal liberal machine needs to get control back, and they are willing to butcher a lot to get it.

Blind and strangle the machine. Ban, shut down, shame, scandal, disaster, blood, anything, drown out the idiot god of Change, and get control back.

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The midterms are the next big chance, and as blind as they may be, they've learned their lesson. Choke out any voice, scatter and divide anything and everything, keep eyes blind until control is re-attained. If it fails, they stand to lose too much before there's another chance.

Is everything that's happening a focused effort? no, but it's not all happening by accident. It's very easy to believe, with all the noise, that everything's going to hell. It's not, at least not any more so then average.

In short, hope, as much as anyone has it here, is still valuable. The wheels are still spinning, the pendulum is still swinging back, the emperor is still nude, no matter how loud the nobles shout down the ignorant, blind masses. Keep up faith, keep pushing forward, the chaff will clear up, i swear.

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Interesting perspective

No, just a fair bit of mad rambling. I do this sometimes when i'm depressed and feel like i'm going crazy. It's the equivalent of a guy, shocked and screaming, trying to tell people about aliens and horrors walking around that nobody seems to see.

My vague hope is that i'm not actually insane, and it resonates with someone, and maybe gives a degree of cold comfort. Probably more impotent then vague, if i'm honest.

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hey. hit me up on discord DinduGoy#8997. i get it man. im here if you need to talk

The shift on here over the last few weeks has been amazing. It's not just "how yu lik dat BBC wyit boy?" and bullshit sliding, it's starting a fight about everything. It's not hard to kick off a fight, sure, but everything, all the time? It's the constant "i want to hatefuck that lesbian gun grabber" crap that really brings it to focus. It's the exact kind of tactic someone who learned about GamerGate from a situation analysis report would cook up. There's a powerful need to expose and shame the voices dredged up by the internet. Anyone who speaks about how the world might be better off if we maybe calm down on the constant advancement is branded alt-right, e-celeb, tradthot, larper, or whatever the hell else, and dismissed. That's not to say any are especially worth listening to, but it's tossing the wheat out with the chaff.

There's finally a way to force the same sarcastic derision that insulates and controls the liberal, left side of things on to the right. Look at the intellectual elitism rising. Look at the death of self-improvement focus, on starting with self and community, of actual patriotism and...energy. The same snide voice that dismisses rural and suburban retards is starting to dismiss Nazi posers and such. We're being pulled back in to the same framework.

Appreciate it, but I'm far, far too paranoid for that. It's better, in a way, to just bark at the moon like this, ramble to the beach sand, only to be washed away. Faceless, nameless, just one more voice...hopefully keeps it free from the natural progression that so many folks from the /ibs/ threads have gone down, despite the best of intentions.

Plus, the few times i've tried to connect and expand in that way, the groups or individuals tend to end up banned or just vanished, so it's probably better to lie low anyway.

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Image didn't attach, goddamn, going to ruin my non-existent reputation, what's the world coming to...

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the whole point of this movement is anti-individual. we must be a collective. a single voice screaming into the night does nothing. even if you dont talk to me, go to the TRS forums. join a pool party. meet people in real life. connect, adapt, survive. the 14 words are not dead. the elite are not all powerful. God still reigns in heaven. hope exists.

cont. (exerpt from a conversation I had on reddit regarding race realism)
> "Is there not something more interesting about yourself that you can build your self worth upon?"

Who cares about me? I am nothing. I am a mote of dust on the back of the giant turtle. I live, I fuck, I eat, I die. I don't matter. Building one's identity off religion and tribe are the most natural things in the world. They ground you into something bigger. They give you purpose, destiny. They provide community and comradery. Even the giants of history are remembered because of their people who put them in the positions they were in and supported their actions. No single person ever did anything of note without support and help. None.

keep the faith, brother. the long winter approaches. remember the 14.

That is very good to hear, actually. It's good to know there's still a few folks, quietly burning, but brightly. This is partially a war on God, perhaps more then just a little. Most of those trying to force change are godless, or have a vested interest in the death of christanity and the west, it's hard not to see parallels.

I am more or less a shut-in these days. I get out when i need to, but friends are few and far between it seems. I've sadly lost a great deal. At a point, I was forced to face a choice myself: continue to believe and trust in what was comfortable...or keep my family safe. When my mother, between bouts of pot smoking and trying to peck my father to death, sent CPS to try and take my kids away for the seventh time in two years, it drew a lot of things in to focus. But i'm wandering well the hell off base, I'm a voice, not a person. In short, I accept the sentiment, even if i cannot act on it. My apologies.

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We are, and are not, important...i like that. Man, and life, is built of contradiction, it's good to face the fact that even a crusade for truth might not be logical. A tragedy to those who feel, and comedy to those who think, and we all do each in time.

If i help someone, a mad voice raving about something that may make sense, or inspire another, then maybe that's my place? the dust mite that causes an itch that shifts the path of fate...

do me a favor. save my username. there may come a time when the despair creeps over you like a serpent as it did me. like me you may find yourself awake in the wee hours of the morn holding your gun and fondling a shell, wondering if you should.
when that time comes, message me. even if you then pull that trigger, message me. I understand your paranoia, i once had it to, but the fear must be conquered. Risks must be taken. even just a single companian on this long road we travel can save you. It did me.
God exists. He sent me a comrade in arms in my darkest moment. save my username and use me for that when the time comes.
strength and honor, brother.

It's all we can do, and it perhaps the birthright of the west. It takes a special kind of will to live in a place that will, annually, try to kill you. It's a good spirit to cling to, one of endurance. I'm deeply nervous, though, to see what sprouts in the world and culture from all the seeds being flung in the fall...

Jesus, twice now? What the hell is up with images....

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is this your art? i like it. it has a solomn grimness to it. a coldly masculine quality. and yet, sterile.

You're a good man. That's not to say you're free of stain, no...but you have a good will. I appreciate, deeply, what you're saying...but you're a bit late for me at least. Already looked down the barrel, thought of oblivion and ending more then once...but too many souls need me, and I fear death too much to court it. From depression and obligation, I've somehow forged some sense of dignity and focus. I've done what you've done, more then once, trying to beg, and scream "i swear, it gets better, it does, please don't give up, if I didn't you don't need to!"

Do it for another, oh empty brother. Sometimes the victory of the day is just not being dead, but it is a victory. I know the joys of cold comfort...pass them to another, but I will keep the sentiment.

Sadly, no, i'm a sculptor and writer, but not for years now. It's just collected things that speak to me for one reason or another. I like pixel art, what can I say?

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>"i swear, it gets better, it does, please don't give up, if I didn't you don't need to!"

Who ever tell you this is your enemy. It never gets better. it gets worse and worse and worse and worse. once here, you can never leave. truth is like that. liberating and soul crushing. I say not to give up because that is what the enemy wants. capitulation is their goal. they want cowed subjects. we are not that. we are free men. but even free men need support. a single twig breaks under the weight of a finger. a full faggot can withstand an ox.

Also, when are we going to point at the elephant in the room with mass shootings? No, it's not that hundreds happen every day and are dismissed as "gang violence", that's another rant entirely.

We treat people like garbage. We ignore our fellow man, undermine any kind of connection, and feed people a steady diet of longing and dismissal, and when someone finally cracks and lashes out in a suicidal scream, a final mad carving to prove they exist and matter, everyone acts mystified. People snap because their mistreated. That kid in florida was treated like garbage and ignored, so he cracked.

But no, it's a tool's fault. It's a show, or event, or idiology, it's not that people are cracking, broken, and isolated, it's not that people with pain are dismissed, mocked, and ignored. That would be much too uncomfortable to face, it's a tool's fault. A show, a song, a game, a dream's fault, not a person's. Not a people.

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what can I say, I am a stubborn bastard.

indeed, it can never be a persons fault. once you assign blame to that, the question becomes "but why?" and then the game unravels.

We are a mighty faggot, indeed. I follow your thread, and you're right. it's not that it gets better, it that you find a way to live, a way to function and exist. it's not that the pressure goes away, it's that you adapt and learn to function. We are not so much freedom fighters as helgan, adapting, dying, and the few who rise stronger for it.

If I'm honest...i wish there was more, from time to time. Still, i console myself with the odd voice, the supportive, ethereal clap on the back. As I said, one learns to adapt, take what comes. Watching Cops, made a good dinner for my children, played a violent Doom mod, and someone, somewhere, cares if I live or die. it's not a bad night.

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whats more, by blaming everything but the people, they can treat them as children. "whats that? did the bad gun/football/song/etc hurt you? mommy's here. she will take it from you. dont worry." pathetic.

I don't know why, but reading this has brought some comfort.

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thank you OP.

It's the same root cause that inspired the wave of "everyone gets a trophy", constant positive reinforcement bullshit. Nobody's responsible for the bad things, it's not anyone's fault. It is, though. If you treat someone like shit, and they eventually lash out, it's not the fault of a tool, or some entertainment, it's because they were treated like shit.

We're all supposed to be responsible for what we do, except when it'd be uncomfortable to do so. It's when it's uncomfortable, even painful, that it's most important to be realistic about the fallout of our actions. Feeds in to the "am I taking crazy pills?" feeling that rears up sometimes.

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They are creating a Frankenstein.

Pain is universal, and it's not bad, in and of itself. We're in this together, rejects and weirdos all. If you can just keep going, even if your bones creak and your eyes water, things may not get better, but they will be easier to bear.

Remember this, as it was taught to me much too long ago: When you pray, ask for the strength to bear your burdens, not for them to be removed. Beg for the will and might to endure, to fight and struggle, not that your opponents be removed.

Very welcome, though i'm not sure what for. One mad echo in the mob, but hopefully a interesting, or useful one?

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I am not the smartest. not the fastest. not the strongest. but God has gifted me with two things: leadership and ambition. our paths are very different. i anticipate a short life, violent and hard. the family blood is bred for war and there are many wars in the near future that need fighting. my sacrifice is obvious, clear.
yours, i think, is harder and murky. you sacrifice daily. the grinding, painful retinue. slowly eaten away at by the cares of your duty, yet you stick to it. grimly and with only the faintest glimmer of hope, but you still cling on.
yours is the greater i think. and i honor you for it.
keep strong, brother. know your nameless self is remembered.

No, they are Frankenstein. We are the Monster, the horror built, by mistake, alive and animate, and increasingly driven by anger and revenge. They need to stuff us in to the windmill, drag us to the pole...but they don't have the suicidal will to put the beast down.

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indeed.

Your candle burns hot and fast, that's good. Those lights leave scars that last. Mine is too slow, too cold...but it is deeply nice to be remembered. I have many gifts, sadly, but one is my voice. I have written and said things that have, judging by reports and reactions, moved many. I wish, so much, i could speak. I know I could whip and rouse a spirit, if given a chance. I see those marches and demonstrations, and wish so much I could just speak, roar out to the people there.

Maybe, someday, but not likely. I fear, and have so much to lose. So I whisper, a quiet, seditious voice. I use my light to try and catch someone else's fuse. I hope, somehow, to help drive someone, if only knowing those quiet, faceless voices like my own push them forth.

forgive the gilded lilly, but my heart's a bit threadbare, and it's not easy to resist something that touches so close.

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Good way of putting it, user.
Forever awaits us, hopefully it is worthwhile.

Voting is fake and gay

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At least Shelly's monster was an individual, I don't think the current Frankenstein are prepared for a whole army of mad monsters with poor impulse control and social skill...

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Pretending to be above it all isn't all that much better. if something is only .1% likely to succeed, is that the same as impossible? Better to try and fail, then celebrate apathy. If you fail, it can help cement ideals, if nothing else.

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good thread
appreciate it

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Most welcome, hopefully things calm down a little for a day or so and everyone can take a breath. More likely, we'll just learn to breath chaff...

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Enter another troubled but not lost soul burning bright in the face of the eternal twilight. The dark ages are coming back again, but that's never stopped us before.

The violence in our culture is the direct result of feeling powerless and voiceless. That's why the meme of "its white men" has some merit actually, but not for the reasons they think. Their constant erosion of our heritage, our culture, our ways of life has left many of us hopelessly lost and trying to find meaning. When you scream out into the void and it seems like nobody can hear you, it can drive you mad.

Pretty good writer.

op is

>a final mad carving to prove they exist and matter, everyone acts mystified
lovely.
pic unrelated

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i hear aluminum has lots of oxygen. or is that rust...?

And when you go mad, you either flare up and lash out, or learn to burn a bit colder, and become the kind of simmering pressure that's bubbling up all across the west. All I want, in the end, is to be left alone. Harvest Moon, but with WiFi. Small, friendly community, but not deep in eacother's business. Life where care and support the the place of family, or close friends, not the government. A bit of self sufficiency, a safe and pleasant life. How mad that it's become a silly pipe dream to so many.

it's rust. Amusingly, I used to be known by that. Rust, or rustpoet, though i don't think anyone would know it...

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Why else lash out at the source of one's pain? Kids shoot up schools, often after committing violence at home to kick it off, why does nobody talk about it? It's that final scream, to leave an echo of themselves behind, and finally destroy that which they feel has hurt them. Is it right? lord no, but i get why it happens.

If we had good role models, if people gave a damn, if everyone wasn't so touchy all the time, it would be better. Go figure, removing someone's sense of pride, belittling them, and ignoring their issues can sometimes lead to poor results...

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It's a funny thing how so many will point to even your modest example of a pleasant life and say it is borne of ill will or some sort of invisible privilege. As if being free and at peace is some thing that we shouldn't be able to have because they perceive themselves as not having it. They would rather tear down than build everyone up to the same ideal.

If only there were a way to show some of these up-and-comers the way out of the madness. But I think it's something you just realize because you see experience it over time.

>These gates and these walls
>These gates and these walls
>Can hold most of the falls.
>But how high can I fly
>Before I don't have to try?
>Over the highest points I go
>Never finding that perfect flow.
>A ten point landing to the face
>Not willing to give up this chase.
>The target always in my mind
>Besides that, I'm forever blind.
>I go and go for as long as I can
>Destined to fail before I even began.
>Yet I continue to keep my head up high
>And keep trying, at least, until I die.

this your?. author name the same. i like the poem.

see

No I, though it is nice. More articulate then I can be, I lack the grace for real poetry. I only manage it when I don't intend to, it seems.

At a point, you either have to try to re-order the world to make a small, personal dream possible, or try to carve out you own tiny corner of the world as it is, and try to keep it. Distressingly, one tends to lead to the other.

All the madness aside, I'm off to bed. Tomarrow, the sun will rise, and I'll still be at the mercy of forces outside my control, and enforce my will and ideals on others in turn. Yet still, both will continue. It's a cold comfort, but comfort all the same.

I wish you all a good night, mad bastards all.

Good post faggot. thanks

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>t. fatherless, neurotic cuck who struggles with genuine emotion
t. fatherless, neurotic cuck who struggles with genuine emotion
Not a copypaste error. We're all here for a reason, user.

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I needed this post. Thanks.