The Buckinchere Transcendence

Tag: Camus

  • Blog 108

    Blog 108

    Ready.

    Review of The Other Side of Nothing

    B. Lorenzo Buckinchere

    May 31, 2026

    It’s the end of the month, and time once again for our monthly review series. Our muse for the month of May is The Other Side of Nothing. But before we begin, here’s a disclaimer.

    Disclaimer:

    The following review contains spoilers, and is subject to interpretations that may not express the perspectives or intentions of the author. Please read the book in its entirety before reading this, or any other reviews on the topic.

    Trigger Warning:

    Please be forewarned, the following review discusses themes of illness, death, and self-harm. Reader’s discretion is advised.

    Now without further ado, let’s begin.

    Overview:

    The Other Side of Nothing is a 2024 American novel, written by Anastasia Zadeik, and published by “She Writes Press.” The Other Side of Nothing is Zadeik’s second novel after Blurred Fates, and is centered around a young woman (Julia) who runs away with Sam, her young lover whom she met at a mental hospital while also coming to terms with her father’s untimely death.

    Plot:

    In 2016, Julia Reeves checked herself into New York’s Brookfield Sanitarium the day after her 18th birthday. She had previously related suicidal urges to a psychiatrist named Dr. Stein, following the death of her father, Paul.

    During her stay at Brookfield, Julia becomes acquainted with some of her new neighbors while also being counselled by a therapist named Tanya. Julia has taken quite a liking towards Tanya, and thinks Tanya’s marshmallow voice is absolutely adorable.

    Being half-Black, Julia is often judged harshly by her mother’s side of the family. Her grandmother, Frances, in particular, seems to think that Julia is just going through a teenage phase for the sake of attention. Julia’s cousins appear spoiled and overprivileged on the surface. But their mother, Lillly, is more supportive of Julia and her mother, Laura.

    Laura visits her daughter at Brookfield as often as she can. Their relationship had become strained ever since Paul died. But Laura tries to be supportive of Julia’s life choices, such as her decision to grow dreadlocks, and befriend a girl named Cheyenne, who encourages her behavior.

    Then there’s something else about Julia that’s very noteworthy. She has an overactive imagination, and she likes to draw. With that said, it’s not long before Julia meets a young photographer named Sam. Sam sketches a portrait of Julia’s face, and they quickly become smitten with each other.

    One day during visiting hours, Julia and Laura encounter a woman who had come to visit Sam. The woman calls him Max, and a confused Julia suddenly becomes jealous and runs away.

    Sam later explains to Julia that the woman who visited him was actually his mother, Arabella, and that his full name is actually Maximilian Samuel Lorenzo, the third, but he likes being called by his middle name.

    He further tells Julia that his father, Max, wants to keep Sam from his grandfather’s inheritance, and that placing him at Brookfield was all part of a ruse to weaken Sam’s efforts against Max. Then they plot to run away together.

    By the time Laura and Arabella discover that their children are missing from the sanitarium, Sam had already managed to jack his old man’s ride from the parking garage using their name, and take Julia out of the city.

    Arabella’s first instinct was to call her wealthy ex-husband, but he was away in Paris with his new girlfriend, and was being rather neglectful towards Sam and Arabella.

    As such, the two mothers form an unlikely alliance, and travel across the United States in an attempt to track down their mentally unstable children before they manage to get into any trouble.

    Throughout their journey, they share details of their children’s characters as well as their interests that may offer a clue as to where they’re planning to go. Arabella is rather apprehensive about telling Laura of Sam’s previous girlfriends. Apparently, this is not his first rodeo.

    Arabella revises Julia’s bucket list, and she notices some rather interesting items, such as aspirations to go to college, as well as foods she hadn’t tried, etc. During this time, Julia leaves a paper trail by borrowing the cell phones of hotel guests to call her mother, but she doesn't say much.

    They decide to stop in Chicago first. They visit the ferris wheel because her father once took her there, but Julia had acrophobia, meaning she is afraid of heights. Laura and Arabella’s instincts were correct, because that’s exactly where Sam took Julia. Only, her acrophobia never really went away.

    Disappointed, Sam and Julia continue their journey by car while Arabella and Laura track them by air, hoping to get there first. Their next guess was that Sam probably took Julia to the Georgia O’Keefe museum in Santa Fe.

    Only this time, their instincts were dead wrong. Not because Sam didn’t plan to take Julia there, but because Sam’s ultimate destination was Half Dome in Yosemite Park, and he was running on a tight schedule.

    You see, Julia had told Sam about a once-in-a-lifetime Beaver moon that was coming up in a few days. And being a photographer, Sam wanted to take a picture of the Beaver moon from Half Dome, to replicate the 1927 photograph that was originally taken by his muse, Ansel Adams.

    Obsessed with his pursuit of the perfect photo, Sam drove for days without eating or properly sleeping. Julia started to worry, and asked Sam why he never took any of the psych meds that were prescribed for him at Brookfield.

    This was a difficult question for Sam, but he eventually answered by saying that they would dull the intensity of his life experience, and that he’d rather live out louder no matter how painful, or intense his experience might become, a reference to Camus whom they had been reading the entire ride. Sam really loved The Myth of Sisyphus.

    By the time they finally make it to Yosemite National Park, Sam is sleep deprived and disoriented. Agitated, he easily loses his patience with Julia, and goes on ahead of her, memorizing the trail towards the Half Dome rock.

    Separated from Sam, Julia borrows the cell phone of hikers at the park and calls her mother, telling her where they are. But by the time they are finally reunited, Maximilian Samuel Lorenzo had already fallen over to the other side of nothing.

    Review:

    This novel challenges the reader to contemplate the curse of creativity, and to weigh the odds of living intensely and authentically, versus seeking treatment for depression.

    It turns out that Julia was not the only one battling suicidal urges, but also Sam. Which would explain why they resonated so well with each other in the first place.

    The Other Side of Nothing is a sobering read that may cause the reader to reflect on the cost of pursuit, and whether the price is worth paying. I give this one a four out of five beaver moon monoliths, and I’ll see you on the next one.

    © 2026 The Buckinchere Publication, SP.

    All Rights Reserved.

    Would you much rather;
    0 votes
    Vote

  • The mystique of a black-pilled woman

    Ready.

    B. Lorenzo Buckinchere

    Mar 8, 2026

    When most people think about the black pill, they tend towards picturing some doomer incel wearing a tinfoil hat while living in his mother’s basement. But did you know first of all, that there are many different kinds of black-pilled men? And even still, did you know that there are black-pilled females?

    There are so many nuances of character, that there is no cookie-cutter black pill archetype. In this article, I’ll be focusing primarily on the black-pilled woman in recognition of International Women’s Day.

    First of all, what is the black pill?

    Being black-pilled doesn’t automatically mean that you are an incel. Did you know that Camus was black-pilled? Yet he had a different woman on his arm every night.

    That’s why he’s my favorite philosopher.

    Camus also wrote the Myth of Sisiphus, which explored the philosophy of absurdism by chronicling the daily futility of Sisiphus, the Greek mythological creature who existed in a kind of purgatory where he was tasked with rolling a boulder up a hill every day, only for it to roll back down on its own every night. Much the same way modern employees commute to work everyday just to be able to make rent this month, only for the rent to be due again the following month.

    Being black-pilled simply means that you see life for what it truly is. The theory of absurdism suggests that life is existentially meaningless. It is often paired with entropy, which suggests that everything in the universe inevitably drifts apart and leads to decay.

    But with that meaninglessness comes a strange form of freedom at the same time. You and only you get to decide the meaning of your life so long as you are not hurting anyone else in the process.

    Now, with all that said, there are a group of women online who are calling themselves, exoticals. They are Black women with exotic features, that could range from skin complexion, to hair texture, to facial features.

    Some of them are monoracially ambiguous, while others are redbones, yellowbones, etc, and most of what they talk about are the hardships (mostly social) they face because of their phenotype.

    They say that they receive a wide range of hate on the daily; from men who feel like they’re out of their league, to women who are jealous of the way they look (especially at work), to Black people who refer to them as oreos, saying that they are not black enough, to racist non-Black people who still think they’re too Black for their taste.

    Then there’s hate that comes from society in general, especially if the exotical in question is an introvert, or neurodivergent, and generally prefers to keep to herself.

    With all that in mind, the exotical believes that their general archetype will not allow them to keep a job for very long. Not because they’re scared of breaking a nail. But rather, because normies won’t allow them to do so without incident. So therefore, they are better off going into business for themselves.

    Popular exotical business ventures include; hairstylists, eyebrow threading technicians, manicurists, barbers, masseuses, strippers, and escorts, etc.

    Yes, that’s quite right. Your friendly neighborhood exotical would much rather twerk on a stripper pole than argue with Karen at the Xerox machine at 10 am on a Monday morning.

    They’re not lazy, they’re sick of everybody’s bullshit!

    Especially considering that some of these ventures are way more lucrative than being paid $15 an hour to sit across from Karen for forty hours a week.

    The exotical further believes that normies like to bully them because they believe that the exotical gets to live life on easy street due to her beauty.

    But that is a gross misconception!

    If only normies knew the price that exoticals have to pay for their pretty privilege.

    Those very mental hardships and persecution that the exotical has been subjected to for much of her life has made it impossible for her to escape the reality of human nature.

    For that reason, the exotical is forced into a uniquely feminine form of black-pilldom, particularly as it pertains to the shallow nature of most humans. But here is how hers differ from black-pilled men.

    Black-pilled men for the most part have thrown in the towel, and have surrendered to a life of minimalism. As such, they become NEETs (Not in Employment, Education, or Training), or they become incel conspiracy theorists living in their mother’s basements.

    Again, that’s not all of them. Some black-pilled men have made up our minds to push back against entropy, because, “I’m not going out like this, bro!”

    Those men are black-pilled, particularly because they understand human nature, and still choose to push back in one way or another. They might choose to join volunteer missions to help others resist entropy via secular humanism, among other acts of altruism.

    These men are not spending the best days of their lives on 4Chan complaining about female nature. Yet they are too few and far between.

    As it so turns out, it is actually the girls who are really going in on the topic of human nature online. Or did you really believe for one second that a pretty exotical was going to allow a bunch of easily programmable normies and some devilish deity who created entropy in the first place to stand in the way of their spa days and pilates class?

    Now as a black-pilled man who doesn’t want to go down with the ship, who do you think I’m listening to the majority of the time? And if that pushes me back into the red pill, well so be it.

    But remember, you can either be red-pilled, or you can understand human nature, but you cannot be both.

    © 2026 The Buckinchere Publication, SP.

    All Rights Reserved.

  • The True Meaning of Being Black Pilled

    Ready.

    B. Lorenzo Buckinchere

    Jun 30, 2024

    In the realm of self-made men, there are some who have claimed the black pill as their preferred ideology. Or perhaps the black pill claimed them. Then there are those who truly believe that they are black pilled. But how could that be if all they do is complain about women?

    There is a specific group of men calling themselves incels, short for involuntary celibate. An incel is a straight male who believes that he is unable to get laid. In response to feeling defeated in life, incels have taken to social media to vent their frustration about their predicament.

    They have joined several online support groups. In the midst of panic, many incels have turned to the black pill, hoping to find solace. They are more than welcome to join. But if all they want to do is complain about women all day, then they have misunderstood the true meaning of being black pilled.

    The black pill is believed to be built on the premise of nihilism. Inspired by the works of Camus and Schopenhauer, the black pill is intended to shine a light on the absurdity of life. But to be nihilistic is to be hopeless and to give in to despair. Is nihilism the best mindset for the black pill? Is that how you want to live? Hopeless?

    The black pill is a path towards total freedom. Nihilism seems to be the very opposite of how one should want to live. In fact, if you practice nihilism as a part of your black pill journey, you will not live at all. Life would pass you by, and you wouldn’t truly have lived.

    I understand that the way the world is, and the way people are would make you not want to care anymore, and rightfully so. You are well within your rights to not care. But you are going about it the wrong way. To be nihilistic is to be hopeless about one’s own conditions, but to be nonchalant is to not care about anyone or anything going on around you.

    It is one thing to experience existential nihilism or societal nihilism, but personal nihilism is self-defeating. It is not wise to be neglectful of your own well-being as some forms of nihilism might suggest.

    There are too many young men claiming to be black pilled, who are taking their own lives in the name of nihilism. Those men are considered Doomers, an extreme branch of the black pill.

    The black pill is not meant for everyone, as it is a very intense journey, and a very lonely one at that. If you want to know the truth about this world, you must be prepared to pay a very steep price for it. Not everyone can handle that truth. And once you go black, you can never go back.

    So first, you must make up your mind as to whether the black pill is how you truly want to live. And tread very carefully. The path of the black pill can get really dark at times. Yet it is so rewarding and liberating in the long run. Nihilism is not the most effective way to enlighten your path on the black pill journey, as it will only further darken it.

    It is when you are truly nonchalant about life that your path will be enlightened. That precious moment when you realize that you truly do not give a damn what anyone thinks or says is when you have reached a dangerously awesome level of freedom.

    It will be a truly satisfying and liberating feeling. It will feel as though a huge burden has been lifted off your shoulders. That is the day you will truly live life on your own terms. A master of your own domain.

    I must warn you however that being nonchalant is not something that can be faked. It’s either you care, or you don’t. But if you try to be nonchalant when you know you still care, you will only drive yourself mad. Stoicism is pretending not to care, and nonchalance is not caring at all. Confusing the two can be quite tragic.

    Nonchalance comes naturally for me, right down to my molecular structure. Not everyone can do what I can, so be honest with yourself. For me, it was nature and nurture. Something that I practiced until I became better at it overtime. It was more challenging to remain nonchalant when I was young and blue pilled.

    But the more black pilled I became, the easier it was for me to be nonchalant. If you are black pilled and you think you have the potential to be nonchalant, my advice is to embrace that side of you and practice to become more perfectly nonchalant.

    When you are nonchalant, you are pessimistic about society, yet optimistic about your own life. You know that the whole world went to hell in a handbasket. But it does not make a difference to you, or how you choose to live.

    If people are fake, do not entertain them. If women are shallow, treat them as you would a rabid dog. If sex is important to you, find a way to get laid without approaching strange women. If employers are dishonest, build your own company right across the street from them, and steal all of their longtime customers right under their nose.

    Whatever you do, do not give energy to anything that doesn’t serve you. The world only seems to notice you when you become nonchalant. Do not be deceived. They are only interested in you for their own selfish gain, which further proves how shallow they really are.

    At that point, you are well within your rights to tell them to go fuck themselves. If the thought of telling people to go fuck themselves somehow rubs you the wrong way, you are NOT nonchalant. The ultimate test. If you are not nonchalant, the black pill is truly not meant for you.