Submitted for your approval, the new hire at a company. As soon as you arrive on the scene, it seems as though everyone at the job site is already familiar with you? Worse than that, it seems like they were expecting you all along. But how did they know your name if you were never formally introduced? In just a moment, you will read about a specific hiring practice that is far more common than you would expect. Yet more bizarre than the weirdest episode of The Twilight Zone.
It seems at first, that you are the teacher’s pet. Popular beyond word, and an instant hit at the job site, you find that your new colleagues naturally gravitate towards you. More than what is considered normal for someone they barely met. It seems like they are accepting you into established cliques. But why you?
This phase is called, The Charm. It is typically short-lived, and it usually isn’t long before you begin to notice that they really don’t like you that much. Every move you make, on and off the job is heavily scrutinized.
Your workload is disproportionately larger than everybody else’s. And your undying loyalty to everybody else in the company is expected, often at the detriment of your personal ambitions.
Before long, it is undeniably obvious that they really don’t like you at all. But what could have possibly changed? “What did I do?” Nothing. You didn’t do anything to warrant that kind of ill treatment. But if you challenge the status quo in any shape or form, it won’t be long before they find a reason to fire you.
What you perhaps haven’t considered, is that they all knew how it would end, right from the moment they first hired you. This is especially true if they have different client sites across town. They then wage a war of attrition by sending you to work at a client site far out of your way.
Say for example, 25 miles away by bus. It is even better for them if they know you catch the bus to work. Because then, they can be certain that you will be late more often than not.
As soon as you get there, they want to put you to work the graveyard shift. A huge inconvenience, as doing so goes in direct opposition to your circadian rhythm. Not only that, but they also want to single you out to do overtime, disproportionately more than that of your fellow employees. This cuts into your personal time, as if they haven’t already hijacked one half of your waking hours for the day as it is, now they want more.
Then they tell you that you will be paid time and a half for working overtime. This is gaslighting because that extra pay will only go towards paying bills and taxes. Perhaps it would go towards purchasing an extra meal that you wouldn’t need if you went home when you were scheduled to go.
You now find that working for them has cost you more in the long run, than if you didn’t need a job. But hey, what’s the deal? I thought the whole point of having a job was to make money. That is not the way they see it. They don’t want you getting rich off them.
Their whole agenda is to get rich off you. They are just using you until they decide that they are done with you. Then you will be left worse off than when you first started. Everybody is in on it, and it is entirely by design. But why were you of all people singled out for exploitation?
Do you remember taking a personality test when you were being hired? That test is called the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI). This test indicates what kind of personality you have, based on the way you think. They ask you a series of questions that seem irrelevant for your job description. But perfect for their agenda.
Typical Meyers-Briggs questions would include, “Do you prefer action thrillers, or psychological thrillers?” “Do you leave things up to chance, or see it through to the end?” “What is your favorite candy?” “Are you a Tootie Fruity?” And a very common one is, “What would you bring to the company potluck?”
People tend to answer those questions unwittingly, because they seem so harmless on the surface. Plus they also seem like a lighthearted distraction from the nervous energy that most people feel while on job interviews. It helps to put them at ease.
It is truly a pity they don’t realize the sinister motive behind those questions. They don’t seem to realize that corporations tend to reword the Myers-Briggs questions, then mix them in with other questions so as to be more subtle with it. But Myers-Briggs or not, applicants do have a right to ask the interviewer, “What is the purpose of asking me those questions?”
I have always stated that there are only three different kinds of people on earth; sadists, masochists, and hedonists. Sadists gain power and pleasure from inflicting pain, while masochists gain pleasure from receiving pain. Only the hedonist gains pleasure from both giving and receiving pleasure, therefore the most reciprocal of the group.
MBTI seems to suggest that there are sixteen personality types. I am of the view that each of the sixteen Myers-Briggs types fall under one of my three archetypes. Of the sixteen Myers-Briggs types, the INFJ is the rarest.
INFJ stands for Introverted iNtuitive Feeling and Judging. All that simply means is that you judge people, places and things based on the way they make you feel. And because you are an introvert, you do so internally by using your imagination.
Because you tend to process things internally, most people are intimidated by your silence. This is due to the fact that they don’t really know what to make of you. It’s just that they will never freely admit it.
So it’s either they will lazily and nonchalantly write you off as being weird and awkward, or they will do things deliberately to provoke you, hoping it would somehow make you show them who you really are. The same is true in all social settings, not just employment wise.
If you are an INFJ type, the company you are about to work for will find that out by having you complete the Myers-Briggs Indicator. Once they know who you are, it’s game on. They will move other employees around, just so they could make room to put you at a disadvantage. They will send other employees to befriend you with ulterior motives. They will spy on you, and test you without mercy. For no other reason than the simple fact that you are an INFJ.
Most companies are toxic, and tend to target INFJ types. It is possible that each company is incentivized by some higher power to antagonize the INFJ. They feel as though the INFJ’s only place in this world is to be everybody else’s slave. So their goal would then be to steal the INFJ’s place on the throne, and drive him into bankruptcy, homelessness, mental disease and substance abuse.
Or it could just be that the INFJ is generally hated by everyone for reasons that said people could not even begin to explain? Can you imagine being so cruel and sadistic, that you would knowingly send an introvert to work in a zoo as noisy as a mall or an airport terminal? Why not a quiet warehouse or a parking lot?
If MBTI was intended to create an easier path towards personality compatibility, then why are they subverting and perverting it for their own sick agendas?
For the INFJ, freedom is a priority, and it is often regarded as being more important than money. Now don’t get me wrong, money is also important, but it should never come at the expense of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. For that reason, the INFJ should never be caught dead working for another person. The INFJ should always strive to work for themselves.
The road to entrepreneurship can be quite the arduous one, as one may not yield short term dividends. But short term sacrifice for long term gain is a worthy sacrifice. You should never change your character to please anyone. But you will always be a target for the other types, especially extraverts, unless you rethink your list of priorities.
As INFJs we tend to be intuitively smart, so we will just have to figure it out. Finding an INFJ support group, and attending INFJ retreats across the world, is a really great place to start, and a great way to meet other people like yourself, who have had similar life experiences.
In the complex sphere of human diversity, there is a need for smoother and more fulfilling interaction. Everyone has navigated the social scene at some point or other in hopes of meeting someone of like mind. But doing so can be quite the daunting task, as not everyone is sincere.
However, personality compatibility is necessary to allow for a more seamless existence. That is where the Myers-Briggs Personality assessment comes into play.
The Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) was developed by American writer Isabel Briggs Myers, along with the help of her mother, Katharine Cook Briggs, during the second world war. It was later adapted into a personality test by the Educational Testing Service (ETS), who published it in 1962.
The MBTI is based on Carl Jung’s “Dictionary of Analytical Psychology,” where he discussed his theory on psychological types and individual preferences.
MBTI determines an individual’s personality type, based on a dichotomy between four different psychological processes and responses, that includes the following.
Introvert vs. Extravert
iNtuitive vs. Sensing
Thinking vs. Feeling
Judging vs. Perceiving
Whenever one mixes and matches each of the four dichotomies, it results in a total of sixteen Myers Briggs types.
Introverts:
Introvert, iNtuitive, Thinking, Judging (INTJ)
Introvert, iNtuitive, Thinking, Perceiving (INTP)
Introvert, iNtuitive, Feeling, Perceiving (INFP)
Introvert, iNtuitive, Feeling, Judging (INFJ)
Introvert, Sensing, Thinking, Perceiving (ISTP)
Introvert, Sensing, Thinking, Judging (ISTJ)
Introvert, Sensing, Feeling, Perceiving (ISFP)
Introvert, Sensing, Feeling, Judging (ISFJ)
Extraverts:
Extravert, Sensing, Thinking, Perceiving (ESTP)
Extravert, Sensing, Thinking, Judging (ESTJ)
Extravert, Sensing, Feeling, Perceiving (ESFP)
Extravert, Sensing, Feeling, Judging (ESFJ)
Extravert, iNtuitive, Thinking, Perceiving (ENTP)
Extravert, iNtuitive, Thinking, Judging (ENTJ)
Extravert, iNtuitive, Feeling, Perceiving (ENFP)
Extravert, iNtuitive, Feeling, Judging (ENFJ)
Everyone has found themselves perpetuating both ends of the dichotomy at some point or other, but the type in which you are more dominant is determined by how you answer each of the following four questions:
Who are you based on what energizes you?
(a) Self validating
(b) Seeking validation from others
Where do you get your ideas?
(a) My imagination
(b) The world around me
How do you decide what to do with your ideas?
(a) With what I think
(b) How I feel
How do you act upon your ideas?
(a) Things must go according to plan
(b) I am more flexible to changes and prospects
If you prefer self validation over external social validation, you are an introvert. If you get your ideas from your imagination versus the world around you, you are intuitive.
If you decide what to do based on how you feel, rather than what you think, you are feeling. And if you are rigid with your plans, you are judging. That would make you an INFJ, the rarest of the Myers-Briggs types.
INFJs are the empaths of the personalities, thus more prone to being targeted by predators. Introverts in general should carefully consider with whom they would rather share their limited social energy, but INFJs particularly have an extra responsibility to guard their energy, and save it only for themselves or those who are willing to reciprocate.
The MBTI was a marvelous invention, and can be used to determine compatibility in platonic, romantic and professional situations. However, it is not foolproof, as there are those who have been known to use the MBTI to abuse those who are unsuspecting.
Join me again next week, as I discuss a very common abusive hiring practice.
“I wouldn’t change if I could, and can’t if I would.” — B. Lorenzo Buckinchere
I recently thought about buying a house. I thought about the freedom I would enjoy, and the fact that I would be afforded maximum privacy and not have to worry about paying rent every month. That thought filled me with feelings of elation.
Then I thought about all the responsibilities that owning a house would entail. For starters, I would have to pay property taxes annually, not considering any potential mortgage.
Then there are repair costs to consider, plus I’d be responsible for my own security. Suddenly, the thought of owning a house didn’t seem like such a good idea after all, especially when you plan on remaining a bachelor in the long run.
And that was when it dawned on me that owning a house isn’t really for me. Sure, it is a great investment to own something you can call your own, if you have a wife and kids that is. But I am a die-hard bachelor. If I owned a house, I would occupy my own room, while the other rooms would remain empty. That’s a lot of empty rooms that come with all of the extra responsibilities.
But then one may be wondering, “But you can rent out the other rooms in the house. Why don’t you at least run an Airbnb?” Yes, but then I’m very peculiar about who I allow into my living space, and I don’t want any problems.
Then there are those who would argue that, “Owning your house would provide you with a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment.”
To which I would reply, “Yes, and so should having a wife and kids. Except that for me it doesn’t.” Only I decide what fulfills me, or perhaps not.
Perhaps I was born with my personality already intact. Perhaps my path was preordained, and I have no control over it. It just so happens that at some point, I chose to accept it. So now, I wouldn’t change if I could, and can’t if I would, only my gardening I would miss.
I can’t be fake, I wear my heart on my sleeve. If I were to forsake my true character, just to fit in with this world, I would be committing an act of self-hatred, and to me, it is not worth it. So I embrace reclusion, and I do so wholeheartedly.
As a reclusive bachelor, I would be perfectly happy living in a one bedroom apartment, so long as the neighbors are quiet, my surroundings are clean and above all else, I have privacy.
Of course as a straight male, I fully intend to date, but I don’t need a house for that, only if we decided to start a family, which I already told you I don’t want. It goes deeper than simply not wanting to buy a house, or share my space. I am a staunch antinatalist.
An antinatalist is someone who doesn’t want to be responsible for bringing innocent souls to earth just to toil and suffer in this shithole, only for them to get corrupted and turn wicked. And yes, we still get laid whenever we are ready, but we use different forms of contraception, whatever suits us individually.
But if I don’t want kids, and I am a reclusive bachelor, then what is the point of being in a relationship? Companionship. You see, there are different kinds of relationships, and for someone who enjoys playing the field, sleepovers suit me best.
Writing this article is just one of those times in which I am reminded to be grateful for the fact that I don’t need companionship everyday, as that would become an inconvenience. I have other business to tend to, and long term cohabitation would only serve as a distraction, especially considering the way modern relationships are. You gotta be careful who you allow to enter a place as intimate as your living space.
So to recap, if I don’t want kids, I don’t need to be married, or enter into a long term relationship. And if I want neither marriage, nor kids, then there is no point in buying a house. Minimalism is the most drama free way to live for one who is reclusive.
Some people have a superpower. They are able to see, and hear things about others that most people cannot. It is like they know what you are thinking before you even think it. But how do they know?
Are they actually highly perceptive, or just plain nosey? In this article, I will be covering the topic of what it means to be tone deaf. As well as some steps you can take in order to overcome it.
When most people talk about being tone deaf, they are usually referring to someone who sings off key, because they are deaf to musical tones. Less often, they are loosely referring to someone who speaks louder than the general energy of the room.
Or someone who gets too close when speaking to you because they think that you cannot hear them clearly enough. And sure, that’s a part of it. But that is only one form of tone deafness.
There are very few people who, when they talk about being tone deaf, they are in fact referring to someone who is unable to pick up on social cues, most notably sarcasm.
One who is not able to discern social cues is considered tone deaf because they generally do not pay attention to verbal tone, or body language. As such, they may end up getting the wrong impression about a particular person, or situation.
The best example that I can immediately think of, is from a season 6 episode of “How I Met Your Mother” called “Return of the slutty pumpkin.” In that episode, Katie Holmes guest stars as the titular slutty pumpkin in question, and the object of Ted’s obsession from a season one Halloween episode.
When Ted finally gets to meet her during the sequel, he is disgusted to learn that she is obnoxiously narcissistic, and full of sarcasm. Their chemistry is way off, a far cry from his expectations.
And then there is one scene throughout the episode where both Ted and the slutty pumpkin are on an uncomfortable date together. And while cuddling with him on the couch, she questions in her mind, “does he not get sarcasm?” Suggesting that she thinks he is tone deaf.
The irony of how she perceives him, is that she is the one who is tone deaf. Thinking that she is being cool, not realizing that she is singing off beat, and just being awkward the entire time that they were together.
Now personally, I am no fan of sarcasm. I think that it is just an excuse to be rude and obnoxious to other people for no reason in particular. Some people are just toxic and negatively charged, and it is best to respect them for what they are, and abandon them.
But what if you cannot immediately abandon the situation? Whether or not you are sarcastic by nature, your survival depends on being highly perceptive. Because after all, what they said about, “What you don’t know can’t hurt you,” is a lie. What you don’t know can, and will in fact cause deep, long term pain. Perhaps more deliberately so for the simple fact that you truly don’t know.
It is not just sarcasm that poses a threat for the tone deaf. There is also a very common narcissistic tactic where they decide to target a stranger, and bombard them with a bunch of personal questions.They do this for no other reason except for the simple fact that they get off on the power trip.
The more private and introverted they figure you are, the more likely they are to make you a target. Because the single greatest violation that anyone could possibly have committed against a private person, is an invasion of privacy.
This tactic is plausible because there are people who are naturally curious in general. But those people are more friendly, and the narcissist is not. The only way you can immediately discern if someone you just met is on a power trip, can be heard in the subtlety of the tone in which they are using. But how will you hear their tone if you are tone deaf?
Another tone you might miss, is more visual in nature. Just in case you thought that audible tone was the only kind in existence. Say for example, you are apartment hunting. After much deliberation, you find the one you like at long last.
Everything else is perfect, but then you notice that the bathroom has a walk-in shower when you were kind of hoping for a bathtub. You don’t think it’s really that big of a deal because everything else is in place.
Two months into a one year lease, you are unhappy because you are not able to soak in your bathtub with a glass of Merlot after a long day like you really wanted to do. It is not long after that, where you begin to realize it is not just the bathtub. There are also no windows facing west, and you happen to like watching the sun set.
Then you realize that the paint on the wall doesn’t quite match the color of the drapery set you had in mind. And it is too late to cancel your lease at this point when you should not have signed the bloody thing to begin with.
The tone of the apartment told you that you would not be happy living there. The tone of something in which you are investing time and money is telling you that you won’t be free to express your true sense of individuality.
But how do you see the visual tone if you are tone blind? For that reason, you need to learn the subtle cues that someone or something doesn’t serve your best interest.
Do you know why a tone deaf person doesn’t pay attention to social cues? Because they either don’t know what they are looking for, or they just don’t give a damn.
If they don’t know what they are looking for, chances are it is because no one ever taught them. Because once you know, it would be impossible to not notice. Even if you don’t care, you won’t be able to help but to notice things by chance.
The modern world is a noisy one that is full of distractions. From cars, to smartphones to overpopulation, and the ever-increasing lack of privacy. There has never been a time such as this, and subtlety hides in distractions. As a matter of fact, it thrives on it.
This is why meditation is so important. Because it blocks out the distractions of the world. Most importantly, it blocks out the most impactful of all distractions, the one taking place inside your head. So that you can hear what is really going on around you.
Before long, you will begin to notice some details about your environment that you were previously unaware of. The irony of your discovery is that those nuances were always there. You just didn’t notice them because you were too distracted by the complexities of modern life.
If you meditate for one hour a day, everyday for one year, it is only intuitive to expect that after a while, you would no longer be tone deaf. When your head shuts up, your heart starts talking.
For much of human existence, it has been widely accepted that there are only two genders, male and female. However, in recent years, and with the advent of social media, there has been an influx of people coming forward who claim to be intersex.
Named after the mythological creature, Hermaphroditus, a hermaphrodite has been historically understood to be an organism that possesses both male and female genitals, and as such, are able to reproduce asexually.
It has been generally believed that only some insects are hermaphrodites, and that no human is truly a hermaphrodite in the sense where they possess the genitals of both genders.
However, that is not to say that there aren’t some humans who belong to one gender, while being internally dominant with the hormone of the opposite gender. For example, you may have a woman who produces more testosterone than estrogen. Externally, she is a woman, but internally, she is a man.
People who have this gender anomaly are called intersex, a rare minority of the global population. They have existed since time immemorial, but no one knew who they really were, because they have always had to identify as their external gender, for fear of being ostracized for it. Or worse, being labeled a witch, especially during medieval times, and risk getting burned at the stake.
An intersex person is not to be confused for a transsexual, as the intersex person was born with gene mutations, while the transsexual chose to be transformed into the opposite gender after birth.
The gene mutation in question could be caused by a number of environmental factors, such as; smoking, drug and/or alcohol abuse, asbestos particles, POW experiments gone wrong, or conceiving an offspring with a close relative.
Last week, I covered the topic of incest, and what forms of it are more acceptable. So now, let’s touch on the topic of POW experiments. The nazis were known to conduct several experiments during the second world war.
They wanted to create a superior race of men called the ubermensch, and as such, they created a drug that would cause the nazis to be bigger and taller, compared to jewish people.
Unbeknownst to them, those experiments left some of them with strange gene mutations that would cause their offsprings to be born with hormonal imbalances of varying forms.
Some of them would end up developing the hormones of the opposite gender, while others of them would not develop any hormones at all. The ones without hormones would end up being asexuals, while those with opposite hormones would be intersex. That gene mutation may even skip a generation or two, until one day, somewhere down the line, an intersex baby is born.
They would go on living normally until a trip to the ER, or a comparison of their pubescent development (usually during a shared shower after gym class) would expose their anomalies, and cause them to consider that there may be something different about them. After which they would likely try and find out what it is.
In rare cases, they wouldn’t discover their true gender until further down the road when they meet someone special, and try to conceive a child with them, only to realize that they are not getting pregnant. Then only to discover after a medical exam that they will never get pregnant.
This will cause a great deal of heartache for the intersex gendered individual, and all because they were born with the side effects of an experiment gone wrong. Of course, the nazi experiment gone wrong is just a theory of mine, and it is worth noting that most intersex persons were simply born with naturally occurring genetic mutations.
If they have a loving, supportive spouse who is mature enough to understand that being with an intersex person doesn’t mean that they’re gay, then they have all the emotional support they need to help them get through the heartache of not being able to conceive. They may even choose to adopt a child in time, but only after they have come to accept themselves for who they are.
One of the primary incentives that a straight male may have for dating an intersex female is if he is an antinatalist. The cis-gendered female could get pregnant just by them staring at each other, but the intersex female cannot.
All he has to do now is to go out and meet an intersex female who also happens to be an antinatalist. Keep in mind that the intersex gender is a rare find.
Summer is coming to an end, and although the humidity is unbearable, people are still out and about. Taking advantage of the weather by carrying out many home improvement projects while they still have time left. Now is as good a time as ever to talk about the concept of DIY, and why it is non-negotiable for me.
When I was a teenager, growing up in Jamaica, I was surrounded by overbearing women in the family of my origin. Whenever I attempted to fill out an application at the dentist, they would attempt to emasculate me in public by grabbing the pen out of my hand, and say that I “write too slow.”
Could it be that the only reason they volunteered to drive my brother and I to the dentist, is to watch how I do things, and then try to treat me as if I am supposed to be inept?
They never tried that with my brother, but they always did it to me. In fact, they actually tried to pit my brother and I against each other by saying that he is more responsible than I am, despite him being four years my junior.
My brother and I were very close during childhood. We grew up together. We used to play together. But now, he chose to become more like them. For that reason, we grew apart in adulthood.
When I later moved to Brooklyn, I realized that my father’s older daughter is the same as my mother and her sisters. Then I remembered that half the teachers at school were more or less the same way. Yet I was the one who always grabbed the toolbox whenever something needed to be repaired. Or when the door got jammed, and someone was trapped inside.
Well geez, is it any wonder that I only date women who were made in the very opposite of their image and likeness? Who the hell would want a daily reminder of it?
To make matters worse, I wasted the best two decades of my adult life working for one blasted ingrate after another. They did everything within their power to try and make me feel incompetent. In the end, I had nothing to show for it.
And so, I made up my mind, you see. I decided that I was going to take on a DIY approach to life. For the benefit of those who don’t know, DIY is an acronym for “Do It Yourself.”
So from doing my own laundry, to cooking for myself. To stove repairs, to pumping my own gas (I could never live in Jersey), to changing my own oil, to changing a flat tire.
I take pride in doing it all, and doing it by myself. If anyone tries to undermine my sense of independence, it makes me very angry, and I will physically fight them.
As such, I spend plenty of spare time on YouTube, doing research and taking notes. I research everything from home improvement, to car reviews, to medical research, to sleep study, to dietary research, to psychological research, etc.
As a journalist, my homework is always done, but never finished, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. That is because it really is a game changer when you are educating yourself versus going to school, the Ultimate DIY Project.
Speaking of game changers, it truly is a breath of fresh air to not have to work for people for a living. There were challenges along the path. And yes, there are still challenges, but they are all worth it.
Self-employment is not easy. You have to be your own accountant, pay the full share of medicare and social security, and file your own taxes. But that is exactly the point.
You also have to be your own secretary and scheduler. Because managing your time effectively will be your biggest responsibility. Now, that is not to say you cannot ask for help if needed.
Rare exceptions to the rule would be, if there is an emergency that is too big for you to fix. Or if there is something that you don’t know what to do, and you just don’t have time to learn it on the spot. There is also no problem if you delegate menial, repetitive tasks to Chat GPT.
In fact, there are actually some things that you are innately good at doing. While there are other things that other people are better at doing than you are. For example; you might be great at changing the brakes, but your wife might have a green thumb that you don’t have. Let your wife beautify your backyard, while you change the brakes on her car. It’s called teamwork.
Countries understand this fact, and put it into practice. Otherwise, we would not have international trade relations. “Alexander wept, for there were no more worlds to conquer.” It is actually quite normal to delegate responsibilities based on people’s natural talents.
We were not meant to know everything. We should certainly learn as much as we can. But we also have to leave room for others to discover their own unique talents. That is what makes each person valuable.
Sometimes when I revise my list of accomplishments, it feels like I am reading someone else’s work. It makes me proud to know that I am capable of producing such a masterpiece, if I do say so myself. Do you know what else makes me proud?
I am proud of my driving. I am proud of my cooking. I am proud of my laundry and housekeeping as a straight male bachelor, who is often unfairly stereotyped with the expectation of being scruffy. I am proud that I never stole anything from anyone a day in my life.
I am proud that I have totally taken charge of my health, and my diet. I am proud that I have totally taken charge of my finances. I am proud of my blog, and the things that I write.
But do you know what I am not proud of? When I completed a project of some kind, only for some jackass to ask me,
“Oh wow, you made that all by yourself?”
*awkward silence*
“It’s good!”
*shrugs*
As if to suggest that it would be surprising that I could be capable of producing quality. That sort of thing stays with you long term. It’s kind of hard to believe in yourself when someone keeps on doubting you during your formative years. I could have been way ahead of where I am today, if only they didn’t put any doubt in my head.
Any positive reinforcement that I had came mostly from myself. So now, I want to do it all by myself. It gives me a greater sense of accomplishment in the end when I don’t accept any help along the way.
It gets to where, even if I end up dating a debutante heiress at some point, I will tell her not to give me any money, nor to pay off any of my debt. And I will literally break up with her if she cannot respect that. Especially if she knows where I am coming from.
Incest has a stigma attached to it that often leads to social shame and degradation. Incest is defined as having sexual relations with a blood relative, that is the simple definition. However, incest delves much deeper than meets the eye.
Just food for thought, but in this article, we will be giving some historical context on the different forms of incest, and explore what kind is more tolerable, versus what is not.
The reason why incest is not encouraged started out with concerns that are more biological in nature than it is social. Because if the blood of both parents are too similar, then their offspring would have an increased chance of developing autism, and/or sickle cell, among other diseases.
For that reason, infant mortality chances are higher. Not only that, but the expectancy for a normal quality of life diminishes if the product of incest survives infancy. It so turns out that there is an advantage to mixing one’s blood, whether racially or familially.
Because if one family has a history of cancer, and the other family’s genes are stronger, that cancer may possibly skip a generation, or be rinsed from both their bloodline all together.
Incest was not uncommon among early humans, as there is evidence of it taking place throughout medevial Europe. It only became a social stigma in recent history, and for really good reason. It served to prevent the birth of more inbred morons. But what if I told you that almost everyone on earth is somehow related?
It is no secret that the population of humans on earth has boomed over the last century. At the turn of the common era, there were only two civilizations on earth who kept census records, the Roman Empire and the Chinese silk road.
There were other tribes on earth at the time, but they were few in number, and mostly scattered across the earth. The global population was estimated to be around one hundred million people.
Most oriental people are said to be descendants of Genghis Khan, as he is believed to have fathered many children throughout his lifetime. If that claim is true, then almost all Asian people are somehow related.
In 1066 CE, the Normans invaded England during the Battle of Hastings. They conquered the anglo-saxons, and William I was crowned king. William was believed to have fathered many children, so it is commonly believed that many modern British people are descendants of King William.
With this occurrence taking place in China and England, we can assume that it is a recurring practice of Kings and Emperors throughout all civilizations.
One can only expect that the same is true of King Solomon being the common ancestor of many jews, or Julius Caesar being the common ancestor of the people living in most modern countries that are former Roman provinces.
It was widely known that Kings and Emperors had many concubines. The more vast his power, the more concubines he had. Some of those concubines were commoners who wanted to mix their blood with royalty.
And what king would refuse the advances of an attractive, voluptuous seductress? The more concubines he had, the greater his chances of spreading his seed.
Migration and settlement patterns throughout the centuries would see that king’s blood travel to all corners of the earth, and as such, the likelihood of being related to people from distant lands have increased.
Fast forward to the turn of the 20th century, and the global population has grown past one billion. This is good for trade and commerce, because the 20th century saw a paradigm shift in the west, where the economy went from being largely agricultural, to being industrial. A large population would fuel the workforce that is needed to sustain an industrialized economy.
The population further increased shortly after the second world war, as the world witnessed the largest baby boom in all the history of the world up until that point, hence how that generation got their name. The population was then around five billion strong, and would increase to seven billion over the next 60 years.
In 2024, we are 8 billion strong, and most of us are related by blood in some way, yet that hasn’t stopped the population from increasing even more. The population is estimated to reach ten billion people globally by 2050.
When you see a girl you like, and you decide to ask her out, chances are, you are asking out your cousin. But that’s ok, so long as she is not your first cousin.
Needless to say, having sexual relations with parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles are unacceptable. Particularly because there is a power dynamic between parent and child. Even if all parties involved are consenting adults, it leaves one to wonder why the child thinks incest is normal.
Siblings are still too close. Even though they are in the same age group, there are still too many similarities in their blood that would have a negative impact on their offsprings.
Then there are kissing cousins.
The nobility have been known to marry first cousins so as to keep the wealth within their bloodline. Working class white puritans also marry their first cousins to keep their bloodline from mixing with another race. As there is no way of them knowing whether or not a white person outside of their family is purely white.
Those two groups commit incest for a specific reason, then there are those who commit incest just because they feel like it, and they just don’t care what anyone else thinks. Or they were raised like that, and they think it is normal.
First cousins are entirely too close in blood. Third cousins, I think, are safer. But even fifth cousins are still too close for my taste. If I meet a super random stranger, and she just so happens to be related to me, she is likely to be a 10th cousin, or perhaps more distant, which is fine.
While relationships between very distant relatives may technically involve shared blood, they do not carry the same risks or social stigmas as closer relations. Therefore, such relationships are often not considered incest in the conventional sense.
It is no secret that hedonism often gets a bad rap. It is often confused with narcissism, and people who openly practice varying forms of hedonism are frequently the subject of envy and ridicule.
Perhaps hedonism receives a bad reputation because people do not fully understand it. They think they know what it is, but if that was the case, it would be clear that what they are actually alluding to is decadence. But what is the difference?
Hedonism is defined as living so as to extract the most amount of pleasure with the least amount of pain. That is not to say that they are lazy, for a hedonist will choose to make sacrifices under the right conditions, and for the right reasons. The only rule for a hedonist in order for him to willfully make a sacrifice is that it has to be worth it to him.
All hedonists have a vested interest in sustainability, some more materialistic than others. A hedonist may choose to indulge in worldly pleasures, but it is not coming from a worldly place. A true hedonist can be satisfied with less, so long as he is safe and comfortable, a decadent infidel cannot.
Decadence is defined as senseless and needless overindulgence in materialism, often at the expense of others. An infidel cannot comfortably co-exist with a hedonist, knowing that they are equally sustained. It won’t be long before the infidel tries to sabotage the hedonist, hoping it will somehow prove him to be more superior.
An infidel needs the dichotomy of winners and losers in order for his world to make sense. He thrives on sadistic chaos, while the hedonist thrives on hedonistic chaos.
By that, I mean to say that a hedonist will find order in the chaos of self-sovereignty, which is hedonistic chaos. While the decadent infidel will seek to sabotage the hedonist’s transcendence into self-sovereignty, causing sadistic chaos.
Though decadence is mostly sadistic, there is also a masochistic element to it. As there are some decadent infidels who will binge on food and wine to the point of nausea. Then they will vomit to make room so they can binge some more, as was the case during the final days of the Roman empire. But the practice of gluttony is not unique to them. Wherever there is decadence, you are sure to find gluttony.
That form of indulgence is not the hedonistic way, as there is no vomiting in our world. Sure, we may love to indulge, but not to the point of self-inflicted abuse and degradation. Overindulgence is not true pleasure, only a smoke screen to mask misery. Our mantra is pleasure and happiness all the way, but everything in moderation.
I even have a personal rule that I do not go out to indulge unless I take care of house first. That means, the bills have to be paid, the fridge has to be filled, the trash has to be emptied, the floor mopped and the bed made.
In that way, whenever I do go out, there is nothing on my mind that could steal my joy. I am also reassured that when I return home, I can step into an orderly house. If you find everything intact as you left it, you can be certain there were no intruders while you were away, an added benefit.
Sometimes when you clean, you find something under a table that you didn’t even remember owning. How can you be certain of the things you own if you won’t even clean? Those who practice decadence would never clean their own house. It is either that they choose to live in filth, or they clean their house begrudgingly if they have no one else to do it for them.
Decadence is a disease, and one of the mind. It is usually what happens whenever a civilization is on the brink of collapse, as more people tend to overindulge as a means to cope with life’s complexities. There is evidence of upheaval even in the name itself, as decadence comes from decay.
Decadence was commonly practiced towards the end of the Roman empire, and history is now repeating itself throughout the west. Hedonists indulge, while infidels overindulge, the difference lies in one’s mindset.
Vince was at the end of the road. As he laid alone in a hospital bed, he looked back on his life. He thought about all that it had encompassed. The highs and lows, all his achievements and failures, his strengths and weaknesses. The things he could have done differently. He thought about all his children, and how much he loved them.
Then he thought about his regrets. He thought about his dead wife, and the stormy night she was brutally raped and murdered by a lone madman. The thought that he wasn’t there to save her made him very angry. Yet a bittersweet smile crept across his aged face at the thought that he will finally be able to see her again. He closed his eyes, and then transcends into the vast unknown.
…
He awakens to find himself in a house somewhere. It is not his house, and he has no idea where he is. But somehow, everything feels so familiar. He climbs out of bed, puts on his robe as if it were a daily routine, and goes downstairs, where he sees a man he instantly recognizes.
“Finally awake, I see!” The man says, wearing a ‘kiss the cook’ apron. “You must be hungry, let’s get some grub in you,” he continues with a love thy neighbor smile on his face. Vince looks perplexed.
“I made bacon and hashbrowns, I hope you like it,” The man continues, pouring Vince a glass of orange juice from a glass pitcher. “They’re freshly squeezed! Handpicked them this morning from the garden. I hope you find it to your liking.” The man places a plate of bacon and hashbrowns with the glass of orange juice in front of Vince, who is now seated at the dining table.
Vince looks down at his plate, then up at the man who is smiling from ear to ear the entire time. “What’s the matter? You haven’t said a word.” “I know… I know you,” Vince says, shaking with emotions, “I know who you are.” The man continues to smile.
“What’s the matter, don’t you recognize me?” Vince asks. “I understand that you are probably confused, and that you must have a lot of questions on your…” “… why are you being so nice to me?” Vince confrontationally gets up from around the dining table. “Is this some kind of trick, or something? Don’t you remember what you did?”
Just then, a woman enters the room. “It smells mighty good in here. What are you…” Tears well up in her eyes the moment she lays eyes on Vince. “Vince!” “Claudette!” They both tearfully embrace each other rather intensely, then they both pull from each other. “Claudette, it’s you! It’s really you!” He takes her in thoroughly. They tearfully kiss and embrace yet again. The man stands there smiling the entire time.
They break from their embrace, and Vince looks at the man. “Claudette, what are you doing here with this man after all he has done?” “I don’t understand! All he has done was to help me make breakfast.” “No, that’s not all he has done. Don’t you remember?” “Vince, honey! I know you must have a lot on your…” “…why does everyone keep thinking I’m confused, or something? Did this man hurt you?”
“No, he didn’t!” “Is he holding us both here against our will?” “Vince, baby! All he has done was that he offered to come over to help me prepare for your arrival.” “My arrival?” “Yes Vince, your arrival.” “Do you know where you are man?” The man asks. “I remember waking up in this house that feels strangely familiar to me. But I’ve never been here before.”
Claudette and the man stand silently by.
“I don’t really remember much before that. But if you are both here, and I know that you are both dead, then I must also be dead. That’s got to be it. I must be dead, and this is some kind of an afterlife. An afterlife, or perhaps it is some kind of purgatory if that man is here with us after everything he has done. Claudette, we are good people, right? I mean, we worked hard all our lives, only to end up getting the crappy end of the stick. What did we do to end up in hell with this monster?”
“Does this really feel like any of us are in hell?” Claudette asks. She pulls back the drapes to reveal a man mowing their lawn. “Haiyya neighbors!” The man smiles and waves at them as she waves back. “Are you kidding me? Don’t you know who that is?” Vince asks. “That’s your brother, Steve,” Claudette replies.
“That no good brother of mine told a lie to get me in trouble back when we were kids. I ended up missing the school dance because I was grounded for a week. And as if that wasn’t enough, he stole my sports memorabilia when we were in our twenties. It was a collector’s item. I was never truly able to get over the hurt of his betrayal. If I wasn’t sure before, now I know. We are definitely in hell.”
“Vince, you’ve got it all wrong,” Claudette tries pleading with him, “Both men have been nothing but helpful in preparing for your arrival. Steve offered to help mow the lawn, and Eddy offered to help make breakfast.” “Really? Eddy? Are you going by first names now, or something?” “Vince, please!” “Do you need me to spell it out for you?”
“Eddy broke into our house one dark, stormy night. Eddy raped you at gunpoint. Eddy murdered you in cold blood as you begged for your life. Eddy had no remorse as he was pulling the trigger. All your begging and pleading probably only helped him get his rocks off like the sadistic son of a bitch he really is. Can’t you see that this is all just an act to get us to drop our guard. This food could be poisoned for all we know.”
Vince angrily smashes his uneaten breakfast plate into the wall before running out into the yard, still wearing his robe. Claudette and Eddy run out after him. They find him sitting on a tree stump in the backyard. Claudia put her arms around him from behind, stroking the side of his face.
“Don’t worry about the plate Vince, I’ll fix you another. It’s impossible to waste food in heaven, so vast is the abundance.” He gazes confusingly into her eyes.
“Look, what happened to me took place on earth a long time ago. Yes, I was hurt and confused when Eddy first arrived into heaven. It brought back a lot of bad memories about the night he killed me. But after a while, I learned to forgive. I had to learn to get those pesky little cobwebs out of my head if I wanted to be happy.”
“I just don’t understand any of this. How could he have gotten into heaven? How could you think to forgive this monster after the way he ruined our lives?”
“I don’t really know why I chose to forgive him, come to think of it. I probably just figured that only good people come to heaven. And that if he was able to make it here, then somehow he must have done something good to make up for all the bad that he has done during his life on earth.”
“But how could this low life have made it into heav…” “…I heard raised voices,” Steve says, running over to them, “Is everything ok?” “Steve, what are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in over 60 years. Don’t you remember what you did to me?”
“I understand that you are probably upset with me, brother, and I honestly can’t say that I blame you. But what happened on earth took place a long time ago.” “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him, Steve…” “…you stay out of this, asshole. No one’s talking to you.”
“Vince, please!” Claudette interrupts before she continues, “Eddy apologized to me over 40 years ago when he first arrived, and he would like to extend you the same courtesy, so does your brother. Look, I didn’t ask them to come over. They volunteered, knowing how difficult it would be. Your parents wanted to come too, but they couldn’t make it. They wanted to apologize for kicking you out the house when you turned 18. They were hoping they could see you tomorrow, so you all could talk about it.”
“I haven’t thought about that in such a long time,” tears welling up. “I had nowhere to go, so I ended up on the street during the worst winter of my discontent. Then my girlfriend wrote me a letter saying that she was pregnant. I didn’t want to be a deadbeat, so I had to figure it out. The fastest decision I could make at the time was to enlist in the service. Even though I really didn’t want to join, I did it anyway. I did it for my kid.”
Vince continues, “I came back home with a bunch of shell shock and recurring nightmares about my buddies getting maimed and killed in battle. Nightmares about the time I got captured by the Viet-cong. I was held and tortured as a POW for six months until I was found and rescued by allied forces. Once home, I became a violent drunk. I was of no use to myself, let alone my kid, and I didn’t want him to see me in such a despicable state. Sure enough, my first marriage didn’t last much longer.”
“I remember you telling me about it when we first got married. You were in a great deal of pain. I’m really sorry that you took that pain with you into death,” Claudette says.
Silence fills the air.
“Vince, I’m really sorry for what I put you and Claudette through,” Eddy says, “I had no right to ruin your lives like I did.” “Vince, I’m sorry for all the things I put you through, bro. You have been nothing but good to me and my wife, and I see now that my ego wasn’t worth losing a brother like you over,” Steve says.
“How come you are only sorry now? Why weren’t you sorry back on earth?” “I really don’t know what to tell you there Vince,” Steve answers. “Oh, you don’t know? Well you know what? You, Eddy and my folks can all take your fake apologies and go fuck yourselves with it.” “Vince, we’re only trying to help you for your own good. Try to understand.” Claudette pleads with him.
“To answer your initial question, Vince. The reason why I think we didn’t have an incentive to apologize back on earth is because we were living in the flesh, and the flesh is full of pride and ego.”
“Eddy is right! Once we shed our flesh, we also shed our ego, which makes it easier for things like apologies and forgiveness.” “I think the boys are on to something, Vince. But in your case, your ego must be especially strong. Because you have shed your flesh, but your ego is still intact.”
“I have never seen anything like it. Someone whose ego remains intact after dying,” Eddy says, “And I have been here 40 years already.” “Vince, you’ve always been pretty darn stubborn, ever since we were kids. But I never counted on you being able to keep your ego intact after dying. I just don’t know how you do it bro.”
“How soon after dying before most people shed their ego?” Vince asks. “Usually right at the point of death, or in the days leading up to death. Either way, they shed their ego before they are able to reach heaven,” Steve says. “Your case must be a rare exception. Truly unprecedented!” Eddy says.
“Perhaps it just takes longer for Vince to shed his ego, than it does for other folks to shed theirs. Obviously he made it into heaven somehow,” Steve says. “I’ll have you fine gentlemen know that my man is a good one, thank you kindly. He’s just a bit stubborn at times, that’s all,” Claudette says.
“Give it some time Vince, everything will be alright. I know you’ll grow to like it here in time, and you and I can make up for lost times.”
“I would love that very much.”
He ponders on that thought for a moment.
“Ok Claudette, I’ll do it. I’ll try and shed my ego for your sake.” “It’s a deal!” Eddy says as he reaches to shake Vince’s hand, who reciprocates rather reluctantly. “Well alrighty then, I guess it’s settled,” Claudette says as she embraces him. “Now let’s all get back inside the house and eat breakfast.”
As time goes by, Vince and Claudette rekindle their lives together. Vince and Eddy become really good friends and neighbors, as they work together on many community projects. From painting, to drain cleaning to barbecues to butter churning. He even manages to make amends with his parents for any unresolved feelings of betrayal and neglect that he may have been holding onto all his life.
As Vince learns to forgive, his ego starts fading away slowly but surely. He takes on a more youthful appearance, and his personality becomes more playful. Vince, Claudette and Eddy grow really close over time, and are often seen playfully running through the water sprinklers as if they were kids again. All is right with the world. Then one day, it happens.
“I can’t take another day of this.” Vince smashes his uneaten breakfast plate into the wall again. “I’ve barely spent a month living in this lousy dump, and I’m damn near out of my mind already.” “Vince honey, what’s wrong? You were doing so well.” “Yeah buddy! Tell us what’s wrong,” Eddy says. “Your dumb ass is what’s wrong, and I’m not your buddy,” he yells, pointing his finger at Eddy.
“There’s something awfully screwy about this whole operation. I tell ya, this isn’t right.” “But look how much younger you’ve gotten, and your ego is almost completely gone. Why would you want to go back to living in a way that has made you so unhappy for most of your life?” Claudette asks.
“I don’t know! Maybe it’s because it’s the only thing I’ve known all my life. Maybe it’s because this whole thing feels so unnatural to me. I don’t know! Whatever it is, I don’t like people messing with my free will.”
“But if that free will came from your ego, doesn’t that make it a bad thing?” Claudette asks. “Bad as it may be, it can’t be worse than messing with your free will,” Vince replies. “Does your free will matter more to you than your happiness?” Eddy asks. “Stay out of this asshole, I’m talking to my wife.” Vince yells, pointing his finger at Eddy.
“I don’t know how everybody else in this godforsaken shithole does it, but it is not my free will to forgive my wife’s attacker. Let alone be friends with the guy. Perhaps I was mistaken, but I see now clear as day that heaven is not paradise for me. If this place is going to manipulate me into betraying my free will, then heaven for me is actually hell.”
“Do you think you would be much happier going to the other place then?” Eddy asks. “I don’t know! Probably so!” Vince stares at Eddy rather curiously.
“You know, you still haven’t answered my question.”
“What question?”
“How did you make it into this so-called heaven after everything you have done back on earth? You’re not a true believer, or anything like that are you?”
“Do you really want the truth, man?”
“Yes, I do!”
“Do you remember my execution?”
“How could I forget, I was there. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Do you remember my final words before they pulled the lever that fried my brain?”
“You said that you accepted Jesus Christ as your lord and savior. That’s all you said.”
“That’s all I had to say. After that, it was a done deal, my salvation was secure. The moment they pulled that lever, I knew I would wake up in eternal paradise.”
“Did you really mean what you said, or were you just taking advantage of someone who died on the cross two thousand years ago?”
“Obviously I made it into heaven somehow, so you tell me.”
“I’m asking you.”
“It doesn’t really matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“What does it matter if I shed my ego at the point of death? As long as we’re all here, and I’ve made amends, that’s all that matters.”
“To you, maybe!”
Vince turns to Claudette.
“Can you believe this fucking guy? He somehow managed to make it into heaven without truly repenting. All he had to do was recite some kind of sinner’s prayer, or something. Which he waited until he was certain he would die before doing. Yet there are good people back on earth who lived their whole lives wondering if they are worthy of entering heaven. How insulting?”
“He never told me how he made it into heaven. I just assumed that he was a good person who made some mistakes, and genuinely repented,” Claudette says. “You always try to see the good in people, and it ended up being your undoing.”
He then turns to Eddy.
“It wasn’t enough that you raped her once? You had to track her down the moment you arrived in heaven to take advantage of her a second time. It’s just never enough for you, is it? What’s your problem with my wife, man? What did she ever do to you?” Vince shoves Eddy up against a wall.
“Stop it, both of you. I can’t take this anymore with the two of you always at each other’s throats. Why can’t we all just get along?” “How do you expect us to get along if there are two mortal enemies in the same room? Do you honestly still believe that this place is heaven?” “I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to move on after you died? You know how much pain I went through to deny my nature just to atone for my mistakes, in hopes of having a shot of making it into heaven just so I could see you again? And all this motherfucker had to do was recite some phony sinner’s prayer. What a waste of effort on my part?”
“But your nature is still intact, so what have you really accomplished?” Eddy asks. “I don’t know! The only thing I do know is that I really don’t want to be here anymore.” “You can’t be serious!” Claudette exclaimes. “No, I’m serious. I’m done!” “Why don’t you give it some more time? Think things through?” “Because there’s really nothing to think about.”
“Would you rather risk losing eternal abundance in favor of going to the shadow realm? That, from what we heard, is far worse than the temporary readjustment period that you are going through here.” Claudette asks. “As long as there is no agenda to manipulate my free will, then it’s worth a shot. What have I got to lose?” “Everything, if you don’t come to your senses,” Claudette says.
“Vince, listen to your wife for once. Here, we have everything. We literally don’t have to work, or do anything but hang out all day.” “I really don’t need to be taking no advice from a rapist and murderer. Plus, I’m not lazy like you. I don’t mind working for it, and figuring things out on my own. So long as my free will remains intact.”
“Vince, please! Listen to reason. You don’t know what you are saying, it’s horrible down there. The fire never dies, and there is no water to quench thirst.” “Look, my mind is made up, ok. Now who can I talk to about this?”
“I am the way, the truth, and the life. None can come to The Father, except through The Son.” “Jesus fucking Christ, who the hell is this dude supposed to be? “They call him, The Son.” Claudette replies. “And how did you get in here?”
“I literally manifested out of thin air just now,” The Son replies. “Whoa, that was fast. I didn’t think he’d get here so soon,” Eddy says. “Thank God you’re here. Maybe you can talk some sense into my husband. He’s been talking like a crazy person.” “And yet I’ve never felt better.”
“Ok, let me try to understand this. So you would rather spend eternity in the shadow realm because you feel like there’s some kind of conspiracy to manipulate your free will here in heaven. Right?”
“The whole thing just seems so unnatural. Ever since I got here, I have felt an unusual urge to forgive the people I despise. And it took every ounce of strength in me, just to keep a clear mind. But now, I’ve had it.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“No, that’s not all. I also think it’s rather hypocritical of you, that there are good people in hell right now whose only crime is that they don’t believe in you. Yet a wretched despicable murderer like Eddy can make it into heaven, simply by reciting the sinner’s prayer. And you just accept it as proof that he believes in you. Has it ever occurred to you that he recited the sinner’s prayer, just as a ‘get out of hell’ free card?”
“The people in hell who you think are so good, deserve to go to hell because they are atheists.”
“Atheism is not a measure of morality, or the lack thereof. Unless you truly don’t give a damn about morality.”
“I do, but believing in me is important, too.”
“How could you be so petty? I don’t respect you, sir.”
“Why would you punish someone for choosing to use their free will to believe whatever they want? It’s their choice whether or not they want to believe in you, but they shouldn’t be punished for it. They should only be punished if they did something wrong that warrants them being punished. The first amendment of the American constitution places a much greater emphasis on freedom than you do.”
“Look, I understand that you are upset, but rules are rules, and you just have to follow them.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Look, if that’s all you have to say, then all I have left is that I just want to be free. Cost it what it will.”
“But it’s horrible down there.”
“So I keep hearing. But perhaps freedom is the sinner’s paradise. The right to choose for themselves. The right to be who they want to be.”
“You should know that once you get there, you can never come back. You will be stuck down there for eternity. Is that really what you want?” “Whatever man, I’ll take my chances.”
“I guess there’s no point in keeping you here if doing so would make you unhappy, but Claudette stays here with us.”
“Why are you so controlling? Why don’t you let the lady speak for herself?”
“Alright then, I will!”
Vince turns to Claudette, but before he could utter a word, she says, “I want to stay here in this abundant, familiar space surrounded by the people I love.”
“Even if it means being neighbors with the man who raped you?”
“Yes, but you can go if you feel it will make you truly happy. I love you, and I will miss you dearly, but if your freedom and happiness is more important to you, then I want you to be happy.”
Vince and Claudette intensely stare into each other’s eyes before tearfully embracing one last time. “Go be happy bro, you deserve it.” Eddy pats Vince on the shoulder. Vince holds Claudette by the cheeks, and wipes away her tears. “Thank you for being so understanding. I will love you till the end of time.” She cries harder upon hearing that.
They embrace, and hold each other’s hands.
“I will never forget this.”
“I love you,” she tearfully whispers softly as he pulls away from her and walks away. She runs after Vince as both he and The Son disappear together. Devastated and heartbroken, she cries really hard on Eddy’s shoulder as he consoles her.
…
At the entrance to a nightclub, the muffled sound of really fast Techno music can be heard playing from outside the venue. A horned bouncer with glowing red eyes can be seen unhooking the extension cord to let patrons inside the event. Vince, who was waiting in line, is about to be next.
When he gets to the front, the bouncer says to him in a low, coarse voice, “welcome to Club Hades. May all your dreams come true.” “Thank you!” Vince replies, “It’s an honor to be here.” The bouncer places a vip wristband around Vince’s wrist, and smiles at him as he lets him into the club.
Inside the venue, the music is much louder, and the dance floor is moderately packed. Some patrons can be seen dancing the night away, rubbing up against each other. Some are drinking at the bar, while others are passed out from having too much to drink. As Vince is walking around the venue, he notices a voluptuous seductress with demon horns and glowing red eyes seductively smirking at him.
Vince decides to order a drink. He goes over to the bar, and orders a bloody mary. The bartender checks Vince’s wristband with his flashlight, then says to him. “Oh, the man of the hour. I see that you are the owner’s special guest. He’s waiting for you over in the vip section.” As Vince goes upstairs to vip, he notices an old acquaintance waiting for him at the top.
“Well if it isn’t my man, Vince.” “Rick old friend, so good to see you again.” The two do their special handshake. Vince and Rick walk over to the lounge, where they sit in one of the booths.
“Are you comfortable?”
“Sure am!”
“When I heard that you were here, I had to come see for myself. You are the last person I would expect to find here.”
“After living a life of hell on earth, I figured the real thing couldn’t be any much worse than that. So I had to come see for myself.”
A moment of silence fills the air.
“Believe it or not, I was actually in the other place first.”
“Really!”
“Yeah! Then I found it wasn’t quite to my liking, so I asked to come here instead.”
“That’s incredible, I didn’t know you could switch sides so easily. After dying, I mean.”
“Well apparently I did.”
“Well it’s no wonder the owner wants to see you. He should be here any minute now.”
“You remember Eddy?”
“Who? You mean the maniac who killed Claudette?”
“The one and the same.”
“Yeah! What about him?”
“They wanted to erase my will, and force me to forgive him. Worse than that, they actually expected us to act like we are pals.”
“Wait, you actually saw him while you were up there?”
“Sure did!”
“How did he make it into heaven?”
“Well supposedly he repented right before he was executed.”
“And they just let him right on in there? Just like that?”
“Yup!”
“What kind of screwball place is that anyway?”
“I know, that’s what I said.”
They both laughed.
“Everybody else was under some kind of weird spell, except me. The worst part about all of that was that Claudette would rather stay up there and be friends with her rapist than to come down here with me.”
“Imagine that!”
“I know! They may have gotten to her somehow, but they didn’t get me.”
“That’s probably why they kicked you out of heaven.”
“Probably! Or it could just be that they made an exception in my case. Whatever it is, I sure am glad that’s over.”
Just then, a tall, shadowy figure with glowing red eyes approached the booth. “Vince, I’ve heard a lot of promising things about you,” he says in a low, thunderous voice. As he steps out into the light, it is revealed that he is wearing a dark suit, and has the horns of a ram goat.
He possesses a powerful aura. More powerful than anyone else in the room. Just as the two men were about to stand to shake his hand, the man insisted, “No, no, no, please don’t stand on my account.”
“My name is Natas, I’m the owner of Club Hades,” he gestures for a handshake. “Did you say your name is Nathan?” Vince asks as he reciprocates the handshake across the table while seated. “No, I said Natas, The Goat. Because I am the Greatest Of All Time.”
“That’s a peculiar name.”
“I get that a lot.”
“But a nice name, though.”
“Flattery gets you nowhere with me,” he jokes while smiling at Vince.
“You must be tired from your trip.” A waitress appears by the mere snap of Natas’ finger. “Three bloody marys if you would be so kind.” “Right away, sir!” She disappears, and reappears with the order instantaneously. She smiles at Vince before disappearing again.
“Vince, you look tired from your trip.” Vince has been wearing the same clothes he left heaven with. But by the snap of Natas’ mighty finger, he was now clean shaven with a cool new haircut, and wearing a suit. They all raise their glasses, “a toast to my new friend Vince, and his arrival at our club.” “May friendships last forever,” Vince smiles. “CHEERS!”
“Vince was just telling me that he would much rather be here if it meant having his freedom,” Rick says. “Yeah, so I heard. This place gets a pretty bad rap. So I think it’s actually really commendable that anyone would be willing to brave the trip, regardless of what they might have heard. I guess that’s why he gets the vip treatment,” Natas says. “Oh yes, well deserved,” Rick replies.
“So Vince, how does it feel to be a chartered member of Club Hades?” Natas asks. “For a place that is said to be the pit of eternal punishment, everybody here seems to be having a really great time so far,” Vince says while taking a sip of his bloody mary. “The only pit here is a barbecue pit,” Rick jokes. “Let the good times roll.” “I know that’s right.” They all drink and laugh together.
“You know, I think this booth could use a bit of a woman’s touch,” Natas says as he claps his hands twice. Almost immediately thereafter, two really hot seductresses levitated over to their table. “Slimthicc, just the way I like ‘em,” Vince says.
“Pick one!” Natas says. “It’s kinda hard to choose, they’re both really hot,” Vince replies. “Well in that case, have ‘em both,” Natas smiles. “Hey, what gives?” Rick protests, but then he cannot help but to laugh.
They both sit next to Vince, one on each arm. They introduce themselves as Mindy and Jada. Then they start rubbing down his chest while smiling seductively at him. “You are the talk of the town,” Mindy says. “Yeah! Everyone heard about the way you stood up for what you believe in,” Jada says.
“We think that men who take risks and make sacrifices for what they want are like really hot,” Mindy says. Vince and Mindy lustfully gaze into each other’s eyes before making out profusely while Jada aggressively grabs his junk.
A third girl has joined as Rick’s date, and the party of six are all laughing and drinking together. “Look at that! Everyone’s laughing and having a good time,” Rick says, drinking and smiling. “Boss man takes care of his people,” Jada says, smirking at Natas.
“Well, I try!” Natas replies while staring at Vince. “Look, I like ya, kid. It takes balls to do what you did,” He continues, staring at Vince with admiration in his eyes. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure!” “Do you think I’m a bad guy?”
“From what I’ve seen so far, you seem really chill and laid back.” “Thank you, that’s what I’ve been saying.” “Well what do you mean?” “Look, can I tell you something?” Natas asks anxiously.
“They paint the image of me like I’m this bad fucking guy, Right? Well if that was true, I’d have all of you shoveling coal into my furnace round the clock, without taking any breaks. But instead, here we are drinking and laughing and having a great fucking time.”
“Well obviously you’re cool and all, but why did they portray you in such a negative light?” “Ahh, ancient history kid. But basically what it is, is that the old man made a bunch of mistakes with the human design, and wanted me to take the rap for it. Just so that he can come out of it looking good.” “Wow, really?” “Yeah! He gave you qualities such as greed, envy and vanity. And he wanted you to convince yourself that the goat made you do it.”
“Wow dude, that’s really fucked up.” “I know!” He shrugs, “So now I gotta act like I’m supposed to be this terrible fucking guy, or something. When all I really wanted to do all along was just to kick it and chill. “You know, in all the years that I’ve known you, it’s the first I’m hearing about this,” Rick says. “What did you do about it?” Vince asks.
“After a while, I got tired of play acting. So the old man turned me into a snake as punishment for telling the woman about the tree of knowledge.” “Really?” “Yeah! I figured that anyone who can see through the great deception, and is brave enough to prioritize their own human freedom is more than deserving an eternal reward.”
“How many people throughout all of history were brave enough to risk it all for their freedom?” Vince asks. “Everyone who you met in this club tonight, including the girls who are hanging all over you guys right now.” The girls glance over at Natas and smirk as he acknowledges them.
“So are Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Tesla, Ben Franklin and Thomas Jefferson, just to name a few,” Rick says. “In time you will have a chance to meet everybody who made it,” Natas says. “I guess it’s true what they say after all. Freedom is the sinner’s paradise,” Vince says. “Welcome to the party that never ends,” Mindy says, smirking seductively at Vince.
President Biden has announced that he will not be seeking re-election in November’s presidential race. The 81 year old president made his announcement last weekend on July 21.
Though his reasons for forfeiting the race may never be publicly disclosed, it can be speculated that they are due to his advanced age and possible failing health.
The president’s health has long been a topic of debate, as he has shown signs of cognitive decline. His many bloopers are evident throughout his media appearances over the last few years, and makes good material for late night comedy.
It is very possible that those bloopers could be more related to chronic speech impairment, than it is to cognitive decline. But the way you are perceived in the public eye is sometimes more important than your true character, and running for president is one such time.
Biden has caused America to appear more vulnerable on the world stage, and his departure is welcomed as a most positive turn of events. If he were to get re-elected, he would be 82 years at the beginning of his second term.
Four years later at the end of that term, he would be 86, but I don’t think he would have made it that far. At the rate in which he was going, congress would be forced to invoke the 25th amendment at some point during his term to replace him with vice-president Harris.
If he is going to fall out of the race, he could not have chosen a better time. I believe that he will serve out the remainder of his current term, which ends on January 20. Quit while you’re still ahead. Do it for the sake of your dignity.
Now for the question of who will become the next democratic candidate. Few have speculated that Hillary Clinton would be the most popular choice. But it is obvious to me that vice-president Kamala Harris is the likeliest choice, seeing as how she is already so close to the presidency.
It is even more evident when you consider that her campaign reportedly received $81 million in donations within the first 24 hours, before she’s even had a chance to officially enter the race.
This is no surprise to me, as I have always speculated that Biden was just warming the seat for the de facto president, while she gained popularity from riding his ticket.
This is not good. It is a relief to finally see the back of Biden, but Harris is not much of a better choice for the American people. Never leave a woman to do a man’s job.
Harris was going to become the president one way or another, and Biden dropping out of the race is the best way it could have played out. This is disastrous for the future of our country. In many ways, Harris is worse than Biden.
Not only will Harris make history as the first female president of the United States, but she will also become the first feminist president. It is also expected that she will support other far left agendas, such as; LGBT, dreamers, etc. Basically picking up right where Obama left off, back to business as usual.
Patriarchal chauvinists won’t have a leg to stand on in Harris’ America. Feminists will feel emboldened to attack and disparage us with impunity. Free speech will become illegal, but only when we have something to say.
As I was saying in last week’s article, the far left has no regard for the glorious constitution of our noble republic, only for their own agendas. Only the right are truly patriotic. We believe in the capitalist free market and the great American press. And we will do whatever it takes to protect our homes, families and beliefs.
Fortunately for us, our enemy’s camp has erupted into disrepute. If we want to make America great again, now is our chance. With Biden out of the race, and Harris in the lead, there is but one hope for the future of this country. Take advantage of the confusion while we still can.
And make America great again while you are at it. Or perhaps not! But whatever you do, never dare re-elect the old geezer, along with that damn woman to the highest office in the land. They are not your friends.
I thought they were for the longest. I also thought that all people with conservative values were inherently racist. That was the lie that was consistently fed to us by my derelict Jamaican ex-relatives from Brooklyn.
They were nothing more than a bunch of deadbeats pushing their feminist agendas, and a bunch of derelict male simps who turned against me to support the females in the family for fear of being ostracized themselves. Have I mentioned once before that the rat race begins at home?
I had openly supported Senator John McCain over Obama in 2008, right up until the end of summer. I was stuck living with my enemies, and was having difficulty finding my first decent job in America.
Then one fateful evening, I heard Hillary Clinton on the radio. While speaking in support of Obama, she said of McCain; “What does he know about poverty? He was born with a gold spoon in his mouth.” At that moment, they had me sold.
If I had any form of sustainable income at the time, I would have continued supporting McCain, whether or not I was wealthy. But I thought that voting democrat would provide more jobs and social services for people in need, especially immigrants.
And I wasn’t wrong, but for who exactly? Not for actual people in need. Only for entitled deadbeats who envy their own kind, yet want to make up excuses and blame the racist white man every day of the fucking week.
It is a pity they don’t realize, same as I didn’t at first, that it is not up to any president on either side to save us, but for us to save ourselves. At the end of the day, both democrats and republicans are two wings on the same damn bird.
Regardless of who is in office at any given time, I awake each morning knowing that I am King of the Buckinchere dynasty, a fact that will remain until my last breath.
I only care about making sure that I do my part to provide the life I want for myself. To put the power in any man’s hand to provide for you is to make him your god.
Because the moment you owe him, he owns you. That is a form of idolatry. Even if you don’t believe in God, no mere mortal is deserving that level of idolatry. Save it for your damn self.
My deadbeat ex-relatives were indoctrinating us young people at the time to idolize our pastors and politicians. Because us practicing self-sufficiency was too scary of a thought for the insecure ego maniacs to stomach.
They tried to change me into someone I am not by blacklisting me from gaining sustainable employment until I supported their party of choice. I only gained employment once they felt I was ready for the rat race on their terms, 2 years after I first arrived in the country.
Of course, being ready for the rat race on their terms meant envying everyone else in society. It also meant feeling like they are somehow above me, and that I will never be good enough.
This tactic was necessary in ensuring that I would do everything within my power to prove them wrong, only for them to act like they don’t care once I actually proved them wrong. Only seek to make sure that you are comfortable in life. If you seek the validation of others, you will never win.
The more I navigated the rat race, the more I realized that my ex-relatives only mirrored the wider society. The rat race is full of immigrants, feminists, and homosexuals, who delight in emasculating men with strong chauvinistic values. They might have changed my mind, but they never changed my heart. And through it all, I never lost my chauvinist ideals, they only became stronger.
I realize that melting pots are not meant for me long term, unless I want to risk ending up in jail. Most melting pots are situated in blue states. It is rare you would find one of them in the deep south.
If you have any patriarchal chauvinist values, however small they may be, move to a red state. The deadbeat feminists, and the male simps in your families, at your jobs, and within the wider society hate you, and will stop at nothing until they are satisfied that you are completely and utterly decimated.
Many black people are rather apprehensive about moving to a red state, because they fear encountering racism there. But the rat bastards in the rat race don’t like you either.
So ask yourself whether you would rather face open racism, or hidden envy disguised as friendship. Not only that, but you may find that you earn respect from all races of men when you support patriarchal causes.
They say that what you don’t know can’t hurt you. But which one actually has the power to hurt you more? Pick your poison, and pick it well. But whatever you choose, it must be a personal decision.
Sure, it may seem that way on the surface, and that is always the selling point that they use to suck you in. But once you are on the inside long enough, you begin to see that melting pots are nothing more than the epicenter of where everyone gets cooked alive in the rat race. Thing of it is, when several groups of people, who feel powerless in their conditions are being cooked alive together, the only thing left to do is to snap on each other. This is what they call divide and conquer.
First of all, what is a melting pot? A melting pot as they have described it, is a large metropolitan city that is densely populated with plenty of ethnic diversity due to large immigrant populations who have settled there from all over the world. Examples of melting pots in the United States include; New York City, Los Angeles, Chicago, Miami, Boston, Las Vegas, Baltimore, Atlanta, etc. Examples of melting pots on the international scene include; London, Rome, Paris, Dubai, Berlin, Toronto, etc.
Though I am sure it’s the same all across the board, in this article, I will only be covering the American melting pots. This is because as an immigrant from Jamaica, I have lived in the US for 16 years. 8 years in New York, 5 years in Los Angeles, and 3 years in San Diego. I left Jamaica at age 19, and my many years of incalculable experience living from coast to coast qualifies me to accurately describe my experience dealing with immigrants in the rat race. If you had a different experience than I did, be sure to let me know in the comments.
With ethnic diversity comes cultural diversity. And due to this cultural diversity, there are more available options for eating out at different restaurants, interracial dating, and being introduced to different music genres, fashion styles, etc. That is usually the selling point that they use to enhance the city brand, and get more people to move there. When you get there, things may seem fine at first, until you get your very first culture shock.
That usually happens before the end of the first month of your new job in that city. You will not realize at first that your new colleagues, most of whom also come from an immigrant background, are more interested in competing with you for a raise, or a promotion. And that any inquiries into where you are from sounds more like an interrogation to build a profile on you for them to sell your information to different gang-stalking sleeper cells operating within that city. Cultural sharing is the last thing on their mind in the rat race, but they will use it to befriend you to further their agenda.
Humanity is very tribal, and every race wants to be number 1 in the rat race. There is a reason why “race” is a slang word for ethnicity. Now I believe that God created the different races to make life more interesting, and there can indeed be real sharing of culture. But not in a rat race where everyone is scampering about looking for cheese. They are not your friends, they are your competition, and they want double for your trouble.
If you don’t believe me, try getting into a bind. Especially of a vehicular, or financial nature, and see how many passersby will eagerly rush to your aid. Most people would be more interested in reveling in your downfall by uttering remarks like, “I know how it goes, bro,” before taking off. Oh, that’s right, it is fashionable to be rude. They actually think it’s cute, those doggone city slickers. Would they still think it was cute if I were to punch their lights out? The only reason they want to help you is to pry into your life. I would have actually been better off if they ignored me in the first place.
The people who designed the melting pot cities did not really create them with cultural sharing in mind. Sure, they used the term “melting pot” to lure you in. But once they knew they actually had you, their only interest was in profiting off cheap immigrant labor, by exploiting a bunch of hungry-bellied opportunists who brought some distasteful ghetto habits with them from wherever they are coming from, and would much rather fight among themselves in a cruel game of divide and conquer, than to come together to create true, lasting wealth.
Sure, they want you to date each other, and get knocked up. Just so that you can produce a new life in an unsustainable environment who will turn out to be just another mentally damaged taxpayer cog in a machine 20 more years from now. The current cogs know that they are being played, and they don’t care. They would still walk right into the hands of the chess master, so long as they have someone to pick on. At some point, you have to stop blaming the system for the current situation.
Why would I get mad at a barking dog if I know that it is within a dog’s nature to bark? It is the system’s nature to exploit, so it is a goddamned waste of time to complain about it and make up excuses all day. I recommend assessing where you currently are, where you want to be, and how you intend on getting there. Most importantly, work in silence, and only announce the finished product, not your progress. Never lose sight of the fact that you are still in a rat race, full of rat bastards who will rat you out for a cocktail patty.
If being stuck in a gridlock on the freeway, or being packed together with other people in an overcrowded subway car like Sardines in a can, sounds like a hedonistic paradise to you, then be my guest. But if it sounds like a living nightmare to you, then at least I know I can trust you, and this article is for you.
The rat race actually begins in the home. My delusional old man used to tell me that the American Dream was everyone in the house pitching in on all the bills, and staying stuck together, even though we cannot stand each other. I never bought any of his filthy lies because that is not why I came to this country in the first place. That may be an immigrant dream, but it is not the American dream. If anything, it is a nightmare. The American dream so far as I am concerned, is also not about the white picket fence, and keeping up with the Jones’.
If that is your mindset, you are still stuck in the rat race, trying to impress a bunch of people who could care less if you died. The real American Dream is the story of the pioneers of the west. Those brave men and women who had ridden off into the sunset way back in 1847 in search of the next frontier. The cowboys who settled on plains and prairies, anywhere from St. Louis to San Francisco, with acres of panoramic views as far as the eye can see. The American dream is about Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness, that was written in the declaration of independence by Thomas Jefferson in 1776.
I don’t think that the pioneers of the west had any plans of starting a rat race while they were busy exploring new frontiers in search of bluer skies, some outback barbecue, and a taste of true American freedom. That came later! As more people from back east started settling on the west coast, they brought their greed, vanity and cultural idiosyncrasies with them. And just like that, the whole thing went to hell in a handbasket.
If you really want to share in other cultural experiences, you can do so by traveling overseas, and also by joining expat groups on social media. That is actually how you make real friends. But the so-called melting pots are only meant for working and paying bills. As grim as that sounds however, the American dream is not dead. I will keep it alive in my heart for as long as I live.
I hope you have enjoyed the read. Please feel free to click on one of the affiliate links below, as doing so helps support this blog, and you will hear from me soon. One Love!
