The Buckinchere Transcendence

Tag: Personal Freedom

  • Blog 107

    Blog 107

    Ready.

    Buckinchere’s Wager:

    Comfort vs Power in Modern Society

    B. Lorenzo Buckinchere

    May 24, 2026

    Ok, so you’ve heard about Pascal’s wager, right?

    The suggestion of Blaise Pascal that it’s better to suffer for a lifetime here on earth, then finding out that there is no god, than it is to live for yourself here on earth, only to die and find out that there really is a god.

    Well, have you ever heard of Buckinchere’s wager?

    Of course not. Because this is my first time writing it. Well today you’ll learn exactly what that is, and why it’s important.

    Do you know what makes a normie a normie?

    His addiction to ease and comfort. He doesn’t like to think, and he hates anybody who is curious and asks questions. He just likes things to run predictably.

    Now there’s nothing inherently wrong with wanting to maintain a smooth operation. But the normie wants to maintain predictability much to the detriment of progress.

    The truth is that life is not linear. It can get messy sometimes, especially for those who are daring enough to want more than what the lot of their birth dictates, and actually go after it.

    You can say you want something, and not pursue it. But if you have the audacity to actually pursue it, you will learn really fast that society doesn’t like confident go-getters. Because to do so will be you holding up the mirror to Caliban’s hideous deformities, “the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in the glass.”

    It’s even worse if you self-validate and go after your dreams anyway. Then they’ll really try to sabotage your plans as punishment for you not giving them the power to gatekeep your destiny.

    What I’ve just described is the dichotomy of power versus comfort. The normie is not happy, but he is comfortable with mediocrity and predictability. While the neurodivergent on the other hand, is willing to brave the deep, dark waters in search of lasting power and freedom.

    As such, the normie will commute through rush-hour just to get to a wretched, detestable job, just so he can pay the bills. Meanwhile, he’s getting no fulfillment out of his occupation. Plus, he is being underpaid and disrespected.

    The neurodivergent on the other hand, though doubtful, is still brave enough to pursue his creative endeavors until they start paying off. The carpenter may not get paid much, but he receives a sense of fulfillment whenever he is finished working on someone’s coffee table.

    When it comes to dating, the normie may date another normie just so they can split the rent in half, but then they end up hating each other. Then the next thing you know, the girl normie misses her period, and now, they’re stuck raising a kid they weren’t ready for.

    You cannot love a child if you don’t even love each other.

    Meanwhile, the neurodivergent has wilfully chosen to sacrifice the shallow comfort and fake connection of a modern relationship in favor of the power and freedom of being alone. Sure, the neurodivergent would miss sex, but that’s just about all they would miss.

    When it comes to platonic connections (friends and colleagues), this is where the normie truly thrives. Office lunches, happy-hour, football Sundays. He thrives on the hierarchy of winners and losers. Haves versus have nots. Us versus them.

    You get the idea!

    The normie is so disgustingly linear in his thinking, that when a neurodivergent goes off script by choosing solitude and insulation from all the madness of the world, it irritates the normie to no end.

    Because in the midst of his foolish insecurities, the normie feels like you are taking away the single greatest source of his esteem by being an example to others that self-sustainability is very much possible. As if it’s your fault that the normie fool has an external locus of control to begin with.

    As such, the normie, sociopathic as he is, will undoubtedly try to sabotage the neurodivergent just to be able to save his ego and prove a point [more on normie].

    He will “play the long game” and catch more flies with honey than vinegar, so great is their addiction to comfort and familiarity.

    This is what makes them dangerous!!

    And don’t even get me started on family enmeshment. If you come from the bowels of the working class, then your family is full of normies.

    This is not a theory!

    If you want to date a girl they don’t like, or goodness forbid you want to move to a new town, they will be the first to talk you out of it, and give you a million and one reasons as to why they think it won’t work.

    But they’re unhappy, too. What do you mean it won’t work?!

    It’s not that they think it won’t work, it’s that they’re too comfortable being unhappy to seek to make things better. And they were banking on you being jut as fucking lazy as they are.

    But now that you have chosen power over comfort, you have become an inconvenience, and a source of embarrassment for them. Because by so doing, you have held up the mirror to the rage of Caliban seeing his hideous face in the glass.

    Power, on the other hand, can be uncomfortable at first. It can be unfamiliar, unpredictable, and downright chaotic. But if you choose to rise after every obstacle. If you choose to keep showing up for life, every day, then power is definitely worth it in the long run.

    The rest is up to you!

    With that said, I wager to you now, will you choose the fleeting comfort of crap jobs, and shallow relationships. Or will you instead venture out into the deep blue waters in search of total power, freedom, and your ultimate destiny?

    Short-term comfort or long-term power?

    That is my wager.

    © 2026 The Buckinchere Publication, SP.

    All Rights Reserved.

    As it relates to the article, do you choose comfort or power?
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  • What is the point of being in a relationship?

    Ready.

    B. Lorenzo Buckinchere

    Sep 15, 2024

    “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.

    © Copyright 2024 The Buckinchere Publication, SP.

    All rights reserved.

  • If you have any patriarchal chauvinist values, move to a red state

    Ready.

    B. Lorenzo Buckinchere

    Jul 14, 2024

    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.