On July 4, 2024, we celebrated the 248th anniversary of our country’s independence. Not even two weeks later on July 13, former president Donald J. Trump was almost assassinated at a rally in Butler, Pennsylvania while seeking re-election.
According to news reports, Trump was shot in the upper right ear by a lone gunman on Saturday night, only a few feet away from his wife and son. The motives of the shooter are not immediately clear. Though it is easy to speculate that he was a supporter of the left who was attempting to prevent Trump’s re-election.
The shooter has been identified as 20 year old Thomas Matthew Crooks. Crooks was a registered republican, so it is not clear as to why he would make an attempt on the life of a candidate from his own party.
I have two theories as to why.
His support for the GOP was all a ruse, and he was spying for the far left all along.
He is a true republican, but he didn’t get his candidate of choice to run on the republican ticket.
Whatever his motives, his actions only further prove the extent to which freedom is being respected in this country today. If he thinks that picking up a gun and using it on someone is the way to solve the problem of a presidential candidate he disapproves of, then that same thought process transfers over to free speech.
248 years ago, wiser men than I had assembled at the first ever sitting of what was to be known as the US congress. There they drafted the first ten amendments of the American constitution, the bill of rights.
The very first amendment within the bill of rights is one that protects civil liberties, which includes; freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of expression, and freedom of religion. Our country was literally founded upon the premise of democracy.
The second amendment is intended to protect our homes and our families from invaders, particularly those who threaten our freedom. So when someone decides to use their second amendment right to penalize someone else for invoking their first amendment rights, rather than defending them for using said rights, the apple has fallen very far from the tree. Is this who we want to be as a country?
Do you know what my problem is with the far left? They seem to have the misguided impression that freedom only applies to them, and nobody else. If you say something they don’t like, they call you crazy, and want to cancel you.
They are the only ones who get to have free speech, and you just have to shut up and listen to them. They feel emboldened to trample over the rights of others because they are part of a group that gives them a false sense of invincibility. But always remember that cowards run in packs.
Our enemies are delusional, mostly because they fail to realize that there are actually two sides to free speech. The constitution protects my free speech just as much as it protects theirs, and if I don’t like what they are saying, I can just walk away and leave them standing there looking stupid. How’s that for free speech?
I don’t agree with their world views any more than they agree with mine, but the difference between us is that I actually respect their constitutional rights regardless of how I feel. But here is the thing though, I also respect my own rights as well as theirs.
The far left are the least patriotic group in this country, and do not actually respect the constitution. They are only in it for themselves, and will shamelessly and unapologetically exploit our civil liberties, along with the capitalist free market to their advantage.
Now, what kind of people are likely to be far left? They typically tend to consist of feminists, LGBT, blacks, hispanics, immigrants, some working class whites, etc.
The aforementioned groups have been historically considered to be minorities in this country, and are believed to have experienced discrimination, or some other form of trauma. Whether or not that is the case, they tend to struggle with insecurity, and will often use past trauma, or fake mental illnesses as a crutch to excuse away accountability.
Insecurity often leads to envy. They envy anyone who is making too much sense, who doesn’t live up to a certain stereotype, or who wants anything else out of life besides the cards they were dealt.
When they get a small taste of power, they let it get to their heads, and they end up abusing it like a bad habit. They now have all this undeserved power, with no good intentions, and no accountability.
Not only that, but the left are as racist as they come. Yet when they see a black man striving to help make America great again, our own friends and relatives want to label us as uncle Toms for doing so.
But through it all, we must hold them all accountable, cost it what it will. There are two sides to free speech, and we must insist on being respected. If they don’t want to hear you out, walk away with your dignity intact, or this will never end.
Turning a blind eye to their treachery can be compared to paying a blackmailer. You are not achieving peace by compromising your ideals, you are only encouraging them to get bolder and greedier.
Before you know it, their demands gradually become grander and more preposterous, and you will keep paying them until you are penniless. Then they might still choose not to hold up their end of the bargain.
In order to defeat your enemies, you must first be able to figure out what they are after, and make sure that they are not able to achieve it at your expense. With there being few exceptions, the right are capitalists, and tend to pursue wealth. While the left are communists, and tend to favor societal conformity.
They want power over anyone they fear and envy, and they want it at all cost. What makes you think they want you gaining wealth if doing so would limit their hold over you?
Wouldn’t it make more sense to expect that they would try and sabotage our pursuit of wealth and freedom at all cost? This is why they try so hard to silence us. They have been trying to censor our rights to free speech on social media and community forums, and now they have even gone so far as to shoot the people they don’t agree with.
Take a stance for equity. Take a stance for capitalism. Take the other side of free speech. Help me take our country back while we still have a country. Do it before they manage to normalize the shooting of those with whom they disagree. If they feel entitled to shoot Donald Trump, imagine how they must feel about me.
“Jake” has been down on his luck since last year. He went from losing his job, to watching helplessly as his girlfriend left him for some rich douchebag, to ultimately losing his apartment. Sick, homeless and alone, it became obvious with each passing day that this is as good as it will ever get. So he did the only logical thing he could think of doing under the circumstances.
He considered several methods, but finally settled on overdosing. He was always a bit of a hedonist, so he wanted his exit to be as painless as possible. He never used hard drugs a day in his life, yet couldn’t help but notice a couple of heroin addicts sharing a needle some ways over in the distance. So he stole their needle after they had already passed out for the night. Then, in an alleyway, behind a dumpster, Jake got into a comfortable position on a piece of cardboard he called a bed.
Jake then wrote a note,
{Greedy, sadistic pigs only want power and control over the poor. But all I ever wanted was to be happy, healthy and comfortable. Was that too much to ask? You’re finally getting what you’ve always wanted. I hope it was worth it to you.}
He placed the note under a stone, and injected a lethal dose of liquid Fentanyl up his keister. He thought about saying one final prayer, but figured it would be a waste of his damn time. “If God wanted to show up, it would never have to come to this.” That thought made him very angry. Jake then laid on his back, and closed his eyes.
…
The next time he opens his eyes, he immediately realizes that his surroundings are unfamiliar. He is inside some kind of life-sized capsule, hooked up to tubes and monitors, in what seems to be some kind of laboratory. Just then, the alarm on his capsule goes off, and a group of scientists in white lab coats rushes into the room with pens and notepads.
“Orphelius, I see that you are finally awake.” “What!” Jake replies, obviously confused. “The subject is awake,” one scientist says, speaking into some kind of audio recorder. “Heart rate, eighty-five beats per minute. Blood pressure, one-thirty over seventy-five. Pulse, ninety.” another scientist says, writing on a notepad.
“Goddammit!” Jake yells hysterically, “I told you I didn’t wanna be saved.” “The subject is disoriented,” one scientist says. “Get him to recovery on the double,” says another. They open the capsule, and unhook him from all the tubes and wires. Then hurriedly run down the hall while pushing him out to the recovery ward on a gurney. He slips out of consciousness again.
The next time he awakens, he sees a woman sitting on a chair next to his bed. “Orphelius, so nice to see that you are finally awake.” “Who are you?” Jake asks, still dazed. “You would think that after 7000 years, the least a man could do is remember the face of, his own wife,” she jokes.
“My wife??” “Orphelius, why are you acting so strange?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about, lady. Why do you keep calling me by that strange name?”
“Where am I anyway?” “Orphelius, don’t you remember?” “Remember What? Hey, who’s the wise guy with the bright idea to pull a gag like this? I bet it was Vinnie, trying to be slick.”
“Ummm, Okaaay! I am like, completely lost for words right now, but doctor Qualz said he’ll be back in a minute to check on your vitals,” the woman says with a blank stare.
Just now, Dr. Qualz enters the room. “Orphelius, I see that you are awake.” “Look Doc, maybe you can fill me in, huh. There’s a strange lady here who says that she is my wife. And she is calling me by some strange name I ain’t never heard a day in my life.”
“Ok Orphelius, try to relax. Remember, you are still coming out of…” “…Look, it’s Jake, OK! My name’s Jake. Now why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on here.” The doctor and the woman give each other puzzled stares. “Ok then… Jake,” Dr. Qualz nods to the woman to play along, “Why don’t you tell me the last thing you remember?”
“Ok! So, I guess I was homeless, living on the streets of Chicago. It was very cold, and I had to cover with old newspapers. I was starving, sick, and had sores growing all over my skin, and on the inside of my mouth. I didn’t want to live anymore. So I watched a couple of junkies share a heroin needle, and once they had passed out, I took it, and used it to shoot fentanyl up my ass.”
“Fentanyl, you say?” The puzzled doctor asks. “Yeah, all of 20 cc’s, enough to knock off an elephant. And then I woke up here.” “Interesting! May I ask what led you to make that decision?” The doctor asks, writing profusely. “I was depressed after I lost my job. Then my girlfriend left me for some rich asshole. And then I lost my apartment and ended up on the street.”
“This is incredible! This is absolutely incredible!” The doctor exclaims. “That is the strangest thing I have ever heard,” the woman says. “Why would anybody want to live on the street?” “Probably because they don’t have a choice,” Jake replies. “And why would your friend just abandon you for someone else?” “Probably because he’s rich.” “What is rich?” “What is whaah…? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
“Katanya please! Let me do all the talking,” the doctor says, slightly annoyed. “Orphelius, try to understand. We are trying to help you in the best way possible. But these are all alien concepts to us.” “What do you mean by alien concepts? The world is full of poor people, and the rich douchebags who exploit them. How is that an alien concept?” The doctor and the woman listen intently.
Jake continues, “… and that’s not even the worst part. I never really had a supportive family growing up. I dropped out of school when I was fifteen after my pops kicked the bucket. Just so I could work and help out my moms.
But she was always high, and asleep on the couch when I got home. Then I found out I knocked up some chick from around the block. We used to kick it and smoke weed. Then one day we were alone, and things kind of got out of hand. And the next thing you know, she turns up pregnant.
Twenty years later, I’m thirty-five, and I just don’t get it, man. I mean, I tried to do all the right things in life, and I just don’t know if I’m cursed, or som’n. All my life I’ve gotten the shitty end of the stick. And right now, I’m scared, and I just don’t know what my fucking problem is.”
“What do you mean you’re thirty-five. We’ve been married for over 7000 years. We’re at least 35,000 years old, if even…” “Katanya, that’s enough!” Dr. Qualz exclaimes “Wait, what did you say?” Jake asks. “Orphelius, I think I’ve got it. I think I know what’s going on here.” Dr. Qualz says.
“Well don’t just keep me in suspense, doc. Why don’tcha spill it already,” Jake says impatiently. “Do you remember when you said that you overdosed on this thing called… is it Fentanyl?” “Yeah, what about it?” “Well, that’s just it. It must have been your exit clause. The clause that you initiated in order to exit the assimilation sequence.”
Jake goes from puzzled to scared in under a second, tears starting to well up. “You should have remained inside the assimilation for another 40 of earth’s years. Why did you choose to exit prematurely?” Jake bursts into tears, no longer able to hold them back.
“Now do you remember?” Asks a tearful Katanya. “Yes, I remember, I remember everything.” Orphelius weeps bitterly. “How could I ever forget?” Orphelius tries to console himself as Katanya comforts him. “I spent my whole life thinking that my name was Jake Corville, but my existence is way bigger than that.”
“My name is Orphelius. I lived for thirty-five years as Jake Corville. But then I committed suicide, and woke up in… I guess the afterlife, or som’n. And my name is actually Orphelius.”
“Not the afterlife, Orphelius. Your true life. The one and only life,” Katanya says, “Because, after all, life is just a dream.” “You’re right, my dear. Life is just a dream, and dying is like waking up from that dream. Really more of a nightmare if you asked me.”
“Orphelius, I have some questions about your experience within the assimilation, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to go over them with you now.” Dr. Qualz says. “Sure!” Orphelius replies.
“First things first. You gave your name as Jake Corville. Why two names?” “Everyone had two names back on earth. Your second name is called a surname. It tells what family you were born into, and your first name identifies you as an individual.
“What is a family?” “A man and a woman have sex to produce a child. The woman is the one who gets pregnant, but the child is linked to his father’s bloodline, so he takes on his father’s surname.”
“What is sex?” “Sex is, or at least it was supposed to be, a biological expression of the love that’s shared between a man and a woman. Typically, the man shares his genes with his wife, who would then use it to produce a new life that’s mixed with both their genes.”
“Are two people really able to produce a new being?” “Yes, then that being is born as an infant, and grows into a child, then an adult.” “How are they born?”
“They grow inside their mother’s belly for nine of earth’s months. The baby is born when his mother releases him from her belly. At first, they are really tiny, almost like a little person. Then they grow into an even bigger person, and have children of their own. Eventually, they grow elderly. Then they die.”
“Where do they go when they die?” “I guess the assimilation ends and they wake up here in this lab.” “That’s not always the case, Orphelius. Your case is actually quite unique,” Dr. Qualz says. “Oh! How so?”
“Moving right along. You said that you felt this thing called… cold.” “Yes, there is hot, and there is cold. The air has different feelings that are opposite to each other based on whether it’s day or night, or what time of year it is.”
“Fascinating! What is day and night?” “Night is when the sun goes away, and it gets cold and dark outside.” “The sun actually goes away?” “Yes, everyday for about 10 hours, it gets dark so that we can get some sleep.”
“Sleep? Do you mean to tell me that people enter miniature assimilations within your assimilation? And that they do so everytime the sun goes away? And without the aid of a capsule?”
“Yes, but sometimes they dream, and sometimes they don’t. They don’t sleep to get a trip, they sleep to recharge this big round battery they carry around inside their heads.”
“Intriguing! That’s actually pretty incredible.” “You must be a pretty imaginative person, because I never experienced anything like that during my assimilation. Not even close,” Katanya says.
“I remember some time ago during Katanya’s assimilation. She actually said that she spent most of her time being a flying Muka. And that she could go from the sea to the sky effortlessly,” Dr. Qualz says.
“Yes I remember how cool that must have been,” Orphelius replies. “Her story is actually what motivated me to volunteer for your experiment.”
He continues, “Muka reminds me of an earth species. An odd looking thing they call fish.” “Fish?” Dr. Qualz probes. “At least that’s what they call it in English. And the Spanish word for it is pesca? People actually cooked and ate them like food?”
“What is eat, and what is food?” Katanya asks. “Do you mean to tell me that different people have different words for the same thing?” Dr. Qualz asks. “Sure, they call it language. People look, and speak differently based on where they are from.”
Orphelius continued, “Different people had different skin color based on where in the world they are from. They call it race, and the ignorant people wanted to judge others based solely on their race. They wanted to control the money and all the resources, based on something as external and unchangeable as the way you look.”
“What is money?” “A flimsy, worthless piece of paper. If you have enough of it, you could gain access to the actual resources that you need in order to sustain yourself.
“That’s so bizarre.” “I know! And if you think that’s weird. Men actually kill each other for it. Just to be able to impress some cold, heartless woman.”
“If these are things that you need, then why are they withholding it based on something as flimsy as a piece of paper?” “Because of control. Because they use it as a bargaining chip to validate those who do what they say. Then take it away whenever you step out of line.”
“The more you talk, the more convinced I am that this place you went to. This place called earth, is the most bizarre assimilation story we have ever heard,” Katanya says. “Katanya is right,” Dr. Qualz says.
“Do you remember when I asked you where the people on earth go when they die?” “Yeah!” “You said that they woke up here, but they don’t. You must have been the only sentient being within your assimilation. Every other being you encountered there was only a figment of your imagination.” “You mean like an NPC?” “Sure! Whatever you want to call it.”
“It’s no secret that you have a very powerful imagination, Orphelius. We still don’t understand the magnitude of what you were able to conjure up while you were in there. But it is sure to aid in our scientific research for years to come.” “You mean to tell me that I was like the god of my own little world?” “What’s a god?”
“Oh, that’s right! How could I possibly expect you to know? They worshiped some kind of superior being, who they believed was capable of granting them whatever they wanted, kind of like a genie in a lamp.”
“Well that’s absurd! Why would they do a thing like that?” “Because they think he created them, and that he is capable of granting wishes. Different people worship different gods based on their race. Some races would even kill for their god.”
“The possibility that someone or something could have created us has never really crossed our minds,” Qualz says. “Or who or what they might be,” Katanya says. “Do you really think that someone created us, Orphelius? Is that what you learned while you were inside the assimilation?” Qualz asks.
“I don’t know!” Orphelius exclaimes. “The whole idea just seems kinda silly to me. I always thought that we just so happened to exist out of the blue. I never really thought about how we came into existence, nor did I really care. Come to think of it, we never really questioned much of anything. EVER.”
“Why do you think we never questioned much of anything?” Qualz asks. “Maybe we never really had a reason to,” Orphelius replies. “That’s what I was thinking,” Katanya says.
“Do you remember when you talked about the concept of hot and cold, and night and day?” she continues. “Yeah!” “What would you call that?” she curiously asks.
“They are opposite to each other.” “Oh, so you do have a word to describe it,” Qualz says. “Ok, so we’ll just go along with what you call it, then.” Qualz continues. “Oh, I see what you are saying,” Orphelius says.
“It seems like people only have an incentive to question anything if they are somehow challenged. But not if they are always in a state of absolute perfection,” Orphelius continues. “Incentive. Challenges. Perfection.” Doctor Qualz thinks aloud as he writes profusely.
“I know this must be a lot for you to take in all at once, doc,” Orphelius says. “It is, it’s all so very fascinating,” he replies. “I would love to stay and clue you in some more, but Katanya and I would like to embark on a trip to help me become reacquainted with Eternicus.”
“A trip would be rather delightful,” Katanya smiles at her husband. “How much do you actually remember about Eternicus, anyway?” “Not much! I’ve been gone so long that all I can remember is how vast everything was. So vast, yet so empty.” A look of concern crept upon his face, seemingly out of nowhere.
“What do you mean you have been gone a long time, you were only in there for a couple of weeks,” Katanya says. “The plan was for you to complete a month, but two weeks seems about right for someone who exited the assimilation sequence after only thirty-five of earth’s years.” Qualz says.
“You mean it’s only been a couple of weeks? I guess I have more readjusting to do than I thought.” “Well, don’t let me hold you up Orphelius. You and Katanya have fun, and keep in touch.” The two men shake hands.
“Cover your eyes, Orphelius. I have a surprise for you,” Katanya says. “Ooh, a surprise!” Orpheluis exclaimes. “I hope you don’t mind, doc,” Katanya states. “No, not at all!” Qualz replies.
“No peeking, Orphelius,” Katanya says as she pulles back the window blinds. “You can open them now.” Orphelius is tearfully amazed as he opens his eyes.
“Do you remember the last time you casted your eyes upon the beauty of Eternicus?” Katanya asks, hugging Orphelius from behind. “It’s as beautiful as I remember it. The panoramic mountains, the breathtaking oceans, and the green luscious vegetation. It’s been so long, I can’t wait to dive in again.” “Thanks again for everything, doc. We’ll keep in touch,” Katanya says.
Doctor Qualz waves goodbye as the couple sets sail for their new lives together. “Can you imagine sticking your dick in someone, just to show them how much you love them?” “I know, tell me about it.”
“Isn’t it enough just to love them for the companionship of being together?” “Earthlings, right?” The couple says, walking away and laughing together as their dialogue fizzles out in the distance.
Orphelius and Katanya try getting their lives back on track. They go on many great adventures together. They go skiing, kayaking, snorkeling and horseback racing.
They roll around in the grass as they laugh and frolic in the sun. All was right with the world. But then, Orphelius started to notice that something was amiss.
Everything was too perfect. It was always daytime, it never rained or snowed on Eternicus, and it was neither hot nor cold. There was no crime or poverty. No politics or economics. Nothing to fight or die for, and no religion too.
One received instant gratification for everything they could ever want. There were no losses. It wasn’t long before Orphelius began to notice that everything was always the same. And then, he began to remember.
“Orphelius, Katanya, it’s always a pleasure. To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?” “You gotta put me back in, doc. I can’t take another day of this. I’m damn near outta my mind,” Orphelius pleads frantically. “Ok, try to relax Orphelius. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“I don’t know what happened to him, doc. Everything was fine, then he just got upset out of the blue, and he wouldn’t tell me why. Only that we had to come back here.” “No worries my dear, let me handle this.”
“I finally figured it out, doc. The whole point of going to earth in the first place. The whole point of being born as an infant in a world so full of pain and despair. It was meant to give life its meaning by adding contrast and polarity into the mix,” Orphelius says as Dr. Qualz writes profusely.
He continues, “We have been living in an absolute utopia this whole time, and didn’t even know how to appreciate it, because we had nothing else to compare it to. It is because we know that our loved ones will die someday, that we cherish every moment we have with them. It is because we know that we will also die someday, that we value our time, and try to make the days count. It is because we experienced bankruptcy and unemployment at some point or other, that we will cherish every dollar as if it was our last. It is because of scarcity, that we will pursue abundance. What motivation would we have to do anything if there truly wasn’t anything to challenge our concept of abundance?”
Qualz and Katanya look on in silence.
“I think I finally understand. I see it clear as day. It is the necessity of pain that gives meaning to all of existence. So you see, I have to go back in. Because being back here again, and being bored out of my mind so soon after returning, made me remember why I volunteered for the experiment in the first place.”
“Going back in is completely unheard of. You would be the first volunteer in all of Eternicus to go back inside an assimilation upon exiting. The repercussions could be cataclysmic. I’m just not sure if it’s worth the risk.”
“Let me worry about the risk, buddy. You just worry about loading it up.” “Now wait just a minute here…” “Orphelius, you’re being erratic. Why don’t you just listen to doctor Qualz’s advice? We’ll figure something out. We’ll make it better.”
“No Katanya, I’ve had enough of this dump. Like it or not, I’m getting out of Dodge.” “Please Orphelius,” she tearfully pleads with him. “I just don’t see the point, Orphelius. It’s not like you can go back to being Jake Corville. He’s already dead, and you killed him.” Qualz says.
Silence fills the air.
“If you go back in, you might have to be born as an infant, and start life all over again,” Qualz continues. “That’s not an alien concept to me. I think they call it reincarnation.” Orphelius says as Dr. Qualz writes profusely.
“I’m willing to be reincarnated and start life all over again as a different person. Whatever it takes just to get out of here.” “Reincarnation sounds like a fascinating theory to explore. I would love to have the chance to study it in depth.” “Great, so then it’s settled. Load it up.” Orphelius says, already halfway inside the capsule pod.
“Oh no you don’t,” Katanya says, “You’re not taking off without me this time.” She continues, climbing into a separate capsule pod. “I want to find out about this sex business you won’t shut up about.”
Dr. Qualz is left standing there, looking lost.
“Wait for meeee!” He jumps into a third capsule pod, presets it to end in a month, then takes off.
…
In the alleyway, behind a dumpster, a homeless lady is about to give birth on the streets, in the freezing rain. Her head perched atop a trash bag filled with bottles and cans. “Push Monique, Push! Push! Push!” Her friend says frantically. They were out collecting bottles from the trash, when they got caught in the rain, and Monique unexpectedly went into labor prematurely.
“Push Monique, Push! You’re almost there. I can see the head.” Monique lets out a blood curdling scream. Then the cries of a newborn can be heard. “It’s a boy, it’s a boy!” Her friend says. “I have always wanted a boy.” Monique cries tears of joy. “He’s really tiny, but he’s a beautiful baby boy,” Her friend says.
“I think so, too,” Monique says, “I want to give him the best possible life that a mother can give to her child. I just don’t know how I’mma manage.” “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’ll all be there for you, every step of the way. I know you’ll be a great mom.” “That’s reassuring to know. I would love to give him the best life possible. I only hope that I didn’t pass HIV on to my son during childbirth.”
“Hey, what’s that smell?” Monique’s friend sniffs the air. “Hey, I smell it, too.” Monique says, “It smells like a dead rat, or something.” Unbeknownst to the two women, there is a piece of cardboard on the other side of the dumpster. And on it, lies the remains of a homeless man, with a heroin needle, and a suicide note.
In the realm of self-made men, there are some who have claimed the black pill as their preferred ideology. Or perhaps the black pill claimed them. Then there are those who truly believe that they are black pilled. But how could that be if all they do is complain about women?
There is a specific group of men calling themselves incels, short for involuntary celibate. An incel is a straight male who believes that he is unable to get laid. In response to feeling defeated in life, incels have taken to social media to vent their frustration about their predicament.
They have joined several online support groups. In the midst of panic, many incels have turned to the black pill, hoping to find solace. They are more than welcome to join. But if all they want to do is complain about women all day, then they have misunderstood the true meaning of being black pilled.
The black pill is believed to be built on the premise of nihilism. Inspired by the works of Camus and Schopenhauer, the black pill is intended to shine a light on the absurdity of life. But to be nihilistic is to be hopeless and to give in to despair. Is nihilism the best mindset for the black pill? Is that how you want to live? Hopeless?
The black pill is a path towards total freedom. Nihilism seems to be the very opposite of how one should want to live. In fact, if you practice nihilism as a part of your black pill journey, you will not live at all. Life would pass you by, and you wouldn’t truly have lived.
I understand that the way the world is, and the way people are would make you not want to care anymore, and rightfully so. You are well within your rights to not care. But you are going about it the wrong way. To be nihilistic is to be hopeless about one’s own conditions, but to be nonchalant is to not care about anyone or anything going on around you.
It is one thing to experience existential nihilism or societal nihilism, but personal nihilism is self-defeating. It is not wise to be neglectful of your own well-being as some forms of nihilism might suggest.
There are too many young men claiming to be black pilled, who are taking their own lives in the name of nihilism. Those men are considered Doomers, an extreme branch of the black pill.
The black pill is not meant for everyone, as it is a very intense journey, and a very lonely one at that. If you want to know the truth about this world, you must be prepared to pay a very steep price for it. Not everyone can handle that truth. And once you go black, you can never go back.
So first, you must make up your mind as to whether the black pill is how you truly want to live. And tread very carefully. The path of the black pill can get really dark at times. Yet it is so rewarding and liberating in the long run. Nihilism is not the most effective way to enlighten your path on the black pill journey, as it will only further darken it.
It is when you are truly nonchalant about life that your path will be enlightened. That precious moment when you realize that you truly do not give a damn what anyone thinks or says is when you have reached a dangerously awesome level of freedom.
It will be a truly satisfying and liberating feeling. It will feel as though a huge burden has been lifted off your shoulders. That is the day you will truly live life on your own terms. A master of your own domain.
I must warn you however that being nonchalant is not something that can be faked. It’s either you care, or you don’t. But if you try to be nonchalant when you know you still care, you will only drive yourself mad. Stoicism is pretending not to care, and nonchalance is not caring at all. Confusing the two can be quite tragic.
Nonchalance comes naturally for me, right down to my molecular structure. Not everyone can do what I can, so be honest with yourself. For me, it was nature and nurture. Something that I practiced until I became better at it overtime. It was more challenging to remain nonchalant when I was young and blue pilled.
But the more black pilled I became, the easier it was for me to be nonchalant. If you are black pilled and you think you have the potential to be nonchalant, my advice is to embrace that side of you and practice to become more perfectly nonchalant.
When you are nonchalant, you are pessimistic about society, yet optimistic about your own life. You know that the whole world went to hell in a handbasket. But it does not make a difference to you, or how you choose to live.
If people are fake, do not entertain them. If women are shallow, treat them as you would a rabid dog. If sex is important to you, find a way to get laid without approaching strange women. If employers are dishonest, build your own company right across the street from them, and steal all of their longtime customers right under their nose.
Whatever you do, do not give energy to anything that doesn’t serve you. The world only seems to notice you when you become nonchalant. Do not be deceived. They are only interested in you for their own selfish gain, which further proves how shallow they really are.
At that point, you are well within your rights to tell them to go fuck themselves. If the thought of telling people to go fuck themselves somehow rubs you the wrong way, you are NOT nonchalant. The ultimate test. If you are not nonchalant, the black pill is truly not meant for you.
Many people have varying ideas about sexual immorality, from incest to polygyny to homosexuality. For some reason, hedonism often gets a bad rap, but that is only part of the broader issue.
It gets to the point where society would much rather label hedonistic straight men as metrosexuals, simply because they are not used to seeing straight men having good taste for the finer things in life.
Anything you are doing that they do not like will be mislabeled as sexual immorality. For that reason, the concept of sexual immorality has become so skewed by definition, that it has lost its original meaning. Here in this article, I will be putting sexual immorality back into its proper context.
Sexual immorality is defined as a sexual act that offends someone else. How do you sexually offend someone in a way that is valid? By forcing them to do something against their will. What kind of individuals are likely to get forced into a sex act against their will?
A woman being raped by a man who is able to physically overpower her. A minor being molested by an adult. An animal being raped by a human. Or an intoxicated person who is not fully in charge of their mental faculties at the moment.
As you can see, every sexual offense involves a power dynamic that allows for the more vulnerable party to be violated. In order for a crime to be committed, three conditions must be met. There must be motive, ability and opportunity.
Ability and opportunity might both be present, but if there is no motive, no crime will be committed. How does one become a victim if the would-be offender is not remotely interested in sexually engaging them to begin with?
And so therefore, they have no business getting offended by you doing something that does not involve them in the least. As a matter of fact, they are sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong because they were not even supposed to know what you are doing.
Two homosexual men having sex with each other is not immoral so long as they are mutually consenting adults. This is coming from a homophobic Jamaican. I may be offended by the sight of them holding hands in public. But I also respect their human rights to be who they are, and love who they love.
Two blood relatives are free to commit acts of incest. So long as they are mutually consenting adults in the privacy of their home, and they have made up their minds that that is what they both want to do. As much as how the mere thought of incest makes me cringe, it would be rather hypocritical of me to only respect the consent of two gay lovers, but not the consent of kissing cousins.
The 40 year old incel who made up his mind that he is finally going to pay an escort to lose his virginity is not committing a mortal sin by fornicating. As a matter of fact, fornication is a made up word that the church uses to shame and guilt people who are more sexually liberated.
They do so by telling them that they are going to burn in hell for eternity, just for simply getting it on. Imagine that! Burning in hell alongside scammers, rapists and murderers for all eternity, just because you decided to go out and get laid.
The polygynist who has multiple wives and concubines is not committing a sin by not committing his entire life to one woman only. His polygyny is merely the result of a different point of view. The story of creation should be unique and diverse. Imagine how boring life would be if everyone was the same.
The hedonistic male suitor who has decided to play the field is not committing a sin by refusing to go steady. Marriage and kids are a huge responsibility. It takes a special level of patience to be a husband and father. So it is definitely not meant for everyone. Imagine how mundane life would be waking up next to the same woman, everyday for the next 50 years.
Watching her age more and more with each passing day. Finding it hard to maintain the same level of attraction you once had for her as she gains weight and begins acting out her insecurities in ways that are both toxic and immature. Wondering if you made the right decision by going steady.
Quit stressing over it. It is perfectly ok to play the field so long as you are honest about your intentions right from the jump. Whatever you do, do not lead people on, or intentionally break their hearts. Do unto others!
Perhaps controlling individuals believe that those acts are immoral because they are not able to exploit them for their own selfish gain. If anything, it is the controlling party who are immoral for trying to stand in the way of you doing what you want. Afterall, sexual repression is a form of sex abuse, especially when there is a spiritual factor involved.
Even if they don’t like what you are doing, it is not their place to stop you, so long as you are not violating others. That would be them trying to play god over your life. Which makes them an enemy of your privacy, and an enemy of free will.
The examples of sexual immorality that I have mentioned so far are entirely related to consent, or rather, the lack of it. Well sexual repression is also related to consent, because one typically does not consent to being sexually repressed.
Nor do they consent to being ruled by those who are external to their experience. That is something that they are being forced to accept against their will. So when controlling individuals are imposing their moral standards upon you unsolicitedly, they are sexually violating you. Which in turn makes them sexually immoral.
It’s ironic how when you point one finger outwards, there are always three more pointing right back at you. Not only that, but they are hypocrites because they have some skeletons in their closet (often literally), that will make your so-called sins look like a Sunday stroll by comparison.
All of them have their own personal issues that they need to address. Yet all they seem able to focus on is what you do in the privacy of your bedroom? What the hell is wrong with people?
We need to start taking them to court for harassment. They need to know that there are consequences for their actions. Especially when it is becoming an obsession.
No one has the right to deprive you of peace of mind. Some of them are really ignorant, and narrow-minded. But perhaps with a little education, they will see the error of their ways before it is too late.
Do you often feel as though your life is one great calamity after another? From bankruptcy, to illness, to legal troubles, to the death of a loved one. Furthermore, it seems like bad things always happen to good people. Yet the wicked cheat death for the ten thousandth time. Do you ever wonder why that always seems to be the case? I have a theory as to why that is, and what you can do to fix it for once and for all.
Sado-masochism is a “relationship” (exchange) in which you somehow feel compelled to love the one you fear. Sado-masochistic relationships can occur romantically, familially, platonically, or employment wise. It is a form of toxic trauma bonding, and always involves the person in the submissive position being gaslit, physically abused, or otherwise humiliated, solely for the amusement of the sadist.
The question is, why would any self-respecting person assume the submissive position within a sado-masochistic exchange? or better yet, even enter such an exchange to begin with, if they are not naturally masochistic?
To begin with, there are only three kinds of people on earth; sadists, masochists and hedonists. Sadists gain amusement from causing pain and humiliation. Masochists gain pleasure from receiving pain. And hedonists gain pleasure from both giving and receiving pleasure. Of the three, who do you think is the healthiest personality type?
Sadists are always on the prowl, seeking who they may devour. For them, the thrill is in the hunt. They don’t particularly enjoy hurting masochists, because they won’t put up much of a fight. Plus they rather enjoy it. For a sadist, the single greatest sense of satisfaction comes from watching a pleasure seeker squirm, as he forces them into a position where they betray their very nature. This is especially true if the sadist is envious of them.
Who do you think the pleasure seeker in question is? But what self-respecting hedonist would end up in a sado-masochistic exchange with a sadist? And yet it happens much more often than you think. First, the sadist intentionally decides to target the hedonist with a friendly gesture that carefully masks a more sinister motive.
But then, it’s usually not long before the mask begins to slip, and you begin noticing red flags. Hedonists are more likely to be empathic than the other two personality types. They want just as much good for others as they want for themselves. And due to their empathic nature, they tend to want to see the good in others.
The sadist knows this about the hedonist, and will exploit it to their advantage to buy the extra time they need to inflict further pain on the hedonist, just to rub it in. As such, they will gaslight an unsuspecting hedonist into believing that they have changed, thus begging the hedonist’s forgiveness. If not themselves, they will send some of their henchmen to do so on their behalf.
This act of remorse is all just a ploy, and a mockery of the hedonist’s intelligence. Even so, the hedonist will likely give the sadist way more chances than they could ever possibly deserve. This is usually achieved through the social pressure of the sadist’s henchmen, or the naivety of a rookie hedonist. They “love” you when you are young and dumb. A seasoned veteran would never fall for the ruse.
The next thing you know, your whole life starts heading straight down the toilet. From illness, to bankruptcy, to legal battles, to the death of a loved one. Yet the wicked seem to cheat death ten thousand times, and you wonder why. Well why do you think?
I have a theory.
You see, forgiveness should only be reserved for those who are genuinely remorseful, and have taken the necessary steps to make reparations to you for damage caused. It is entirely up to you whether you want to differentiate between unintentional damage and intentionally misguided damage. But when you forgive someone who does not deserve forgiveness, their karmic debt backfires on you.
This is because you are unknowingly signaling to the universe that you are not good enough to be deserving basic human dignity. Not only that, but also that you are more deserving of the offensive act committed by the sadist, than the sadist himself is deserving retribution for said act.
So now what happens?
There is now a karmic debt transferral where you witness the sadist living the very hedonistic lifestyle that was meant for your enjoyment in the first place. All while your life is going to shit. Your life is not even your own at that point, and the sadist will be sure to mock you by rubbing it in on every occasion.
This karmic debt transferral is why many people often confuse hedonism for narcissism. They are confused by the sadist acting in a hedonistic manner, failing to realize that it is all just a ruse. Some hedonists may be narcissistic, but they are likely not narcissists. That dishonor is only reserved for the sadist.
Very few hedonists, in fact, I would even venture to say that NO hedonist derives pleasure from someone else’s pain. Of course, this is not to be confused with the feeling of satisfaction that you get when someone who has repeatedly done you wrong without remorse, finally receives their just desserts. That is a feeling of justice, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that their pain is what the hedonist is enjoying about the experience.
For example, if a sadist has murdered the son of a hedonist, and receives capital punishment. The hedonist will probably attend the execution, and will no doubt feel satisfied when his son’s murderer is put to death. But he more than likely will not enjoy it. The hedonist will mourn for a while. Then he will remember that life goes on, and get back to doing what he truly enjoys.
That tragedy may even remind him that life is too short and precious. And that he should savor the good times with good people, instead of getting caught up with a time waster as malignant as sado-masochism.
When you forgive the wrong person, or entertain the mistaken impression that they are your friend, their karmic debt backfires onto you. Perhaps it even doubles in intensity because you really ought to know better. But when you refuse to forgive them, that same karma has no choice but to attack its intended target. It is like an energetic tennis match, and that is all it takes to even the score. You just have to learn how to play the game.
There is a group of men who call themselves the “Passport Bros.” They are men who are disgruntled with the dating scene in the west. As such they are traveling to foreign countries in pursuit of more traditional wives. They also travel for other reasons, such as the flexibility to work remotely as a digital nomad.
Some also travel for some quality soul searching time, away from anyone who has ever heard of them. Although they travel for different reasons, it is an unfair generalization to suggest that the majority of them travel for better dating options.
How did the movement get its name?
Passport Bros are an offshoot from the “Save Your Selves Black Men” (SYSBM) movement. SYSBM was still a grassroots movement up until the 2020 Covid pandemic. It is geared towards a specific group of black men seeking to denounce a neglectful black community who never supported them. And also to explore their dating options interracially.
But as other races of men have become disgruntled with the chaotic dating scene in the west, the term “Passport Bros” was coined as a blanket term to include those men. Additionally, some of the staunchest detractors of the Passport Bros are often low-brow women and their derelict thug boyfriends. You know, the thug boyfriends who sit on the couch all day, while she goes out and works a job to support him.
Many years before, those same girls and their thug boyfriends used to give the passport bros a warm time, and refer to them as nerds and lames. It was all one big joke to them, and they did not care how their words affected others. While the “cool kids” were out partying on weekends and running afoul of the law, the “nerds” were home, studying and plotting their revenge.
Many of their thug boyfriends have a history of criminality and child neglect. Their actions have led them on a path that has permanently disqualified them from any kind of passport eligibility. Meanwhile, the “nerds” remained on a narrow path. All that studying and revenge planning finally paid off. So when a certain class of international male suitors choose to refer to themselves as “Passport Bros,” they are basically saying; “we are now able to travel, and you just can’t.”
What are the detractors hoping to accomplish by using some of those tactics?
The detractors are full of pride and prejudice. The last thing they want is to be beaten at their own game by someone they consider socially inept. Not only that but, misery loves company. So because of their collective ego, they have decided to relentlessly attack the natural rights of the passport bros to seek health, happiness and freedom away from them.
They have taken to social media to publicly denigrate us. With the intent of humiliating us for their own amusement. They have even gone so far as to OPENLY wish that passport bros were robbed and killed in the country of their destination. Do you have any idea how deep it would have to run for them to wish death upon someone they cannot control? Are they really that prideful and trifling?
What other group do you know that are full of pride and prejudice?
Schools, churches, jobs, nations, the police force, Klansmen. Families. Any so-called authority figure that has a prominent social standing within society. Any group that is divisive by nature (us vs. them). Even society as a whole can be counted among the proud ones.
What is the one thing that all these proud groups have in common?
Cowards run in gangs. In the grand scheme of things, there are game players and game changers. While game players throw stones and hide in groups, game changers stand alone.
But the game changer is a fool. Doesn’t he know that standing alone will make him an easy target?
He knows. But to him, it is worth it.
You see, the game changer doesn’t want to be a hero. And the world didn’t ask to be saved. The world wants a hero, but they don’t want him to be their hero. The game changer is not the hero you want, but the hero you need. A true unsung hero.
With that in mind, he must do whatever it takes to be a hero. His ONLY goal then, is to save himself. Hence the name of the movement, Save Yourselves Black Men. Because YOU need you. And when you are forsaken by the world, and even by god himself, only you can save yourself.
But saving yourself is not just about traveling overseas and dating different women. Sure, that is a huge part of it. And my wish is for all of you to go over there and have an amazing time. However, saving yourself also requires self-care.
Some examples of self-care include: having several passive income streams. Getting plenty of rest, relaxation, solitude and recreation. Changing your diet, and discovering what works best for you. Learning everything you can about how your mind and body works, and how to maximize efficiency. Learning better time management. Taking better care of your health (both physical and mental). Discovering your ultimate purpose in life.
The trauma that some of you have had to endure for years is truly inhumane. No human being deserves to go through what you did, and you still haven’t fully healed from that. Please allow me to express my heartfelt empathy for what you must have been through. And also to recommend that you seek professional help to guide you on the right path.
What are some of the other names that Passport Bros are known by?
There are some Passport Bros who call themselves “Blue Book Gentlemen.” That is a cool name and all, but might I suggest “Passport Kings?” It never hurts to promote a little positive reinforcement of our inherent birthright. Both “Passport Kings” and “Blue Book Gentlemen” can be used interchangeably. But I feel as though “Passport Bros” is downplaying the sheer power of what we are doing, and what we are about to do.
Finally, let me assert that “The Buckinchere Transcendence” is a Publication for Passport Kings. I may not always talk about women and dating. But I always talk about everything you need to know in order to save yourselves. On the path of transcendence, this publication can be a very useful guide towards securing the future you deserve.
In the sphere of social ideologies, there are four main belief systems that are expressed by the color of a pill. This idea of course, was inspired by the “The Matrix” film franchise. In this film, “Morpheus” (Laurence Fishbourne) offered “Neo” (Keanu Reeves) a choice between two pills. The blue pill, or the red pill.
The color scheme of these pills are often used to draw comparison of the different types of men within manosphere groups. Such as; MGTOW, IBMOR, SYSBM, and PUA, etc. Our world is way more complex than for men to be reduced to two pill types only. As such, there are actually four pill types that I will be covering in this article, as well as what they represent.
The Blue Pill
The blue pill represents the belief system of those who accept established narratives. Therefore, they are considered very naive. That is because they do not question anything, nor do they challenge the mainstream narrative. They go to their jobs all week long. Get paid on a Friday.
Spend almost their entire paycheck at a bar, or nightclub. Pick up chicks. Netflix and chill. Then spend the rest of their weekend on the couch. Too stoned to even move. Return to their jobs on Monday. Repeat. Next thing you know, the bar chick from Friday night turns up pregnant. But wait, they don’t even love each other. It was supposed to be, just a hook-up.
So now, the kid is raised in an unsustainable environment that is designed to break the spirit of who he was truly meant to be. So that he would be better qualified to be a blue pill cog in a machine, who doesn’t question the status quo. A real chip off the old block. And so, the vicious cycle continues.
The Red Pill
The red pill represents the belief system of those who are “woke,” as they like to say. They see more of what is really going on. But due to social, and sexual pressure, they would still like to fit in somehow. And will resort to tactics, such as Pick-Up Art, and the like, to become more of an alpha male, in hopes that some female will find him desirable enough to sleep with him.
Of course they are the fake version of an alpha. Because they are perfectly willing to sacrifice their true character, just to be able to grind out some passaround needle eye for two minutes. They know that this world is not quite as it seems on the surface, and that they don’t really fit in. But they are in denial, and still wish to live out the fantasy of some alpha hero who saves the world, and gets the girl in the end.
They will go around chasing some invisible enemy. And when it is apparent that the person in question is not an enemy, they will create a fictional enemy in their head. Just to facilitate their hero complex. As for who the manufactured enemy in question is? It is one of the four red pill personality types.
The Purple Pill
The purple piller is undecided, and often flip flops between blue pill, and red pill. This is especially true in manosphere groups, where some men are in denial about female nature. As such, they believe in a rare specimen called a NAWALT (Not All Women Are Like That). They often run back to red pill safe spaces, after they get their hearts broken, yet again. And are thus caught in an endless cycle of cause and effect. When will they ever learn?
The Black Pill
And then, there is the black pill. The one who sees everything for what it truly is. The nihilistic one who has checked out of society. The strong, silent type who can live alone in a cabin in the woods, along with his two dogs, and be perfectly happy. He is fully aware of who he is, and does not need any form of validation from society. He is shrewd and calculating, and knows how to play the game.
While everybody and their brother are busy tripping over their own shoelace to seek validation from others, and trying to become more alpha. The black piller lives by his own set of rules, and dwells in the shadows of the night. A true sigma male, if ever there was one. Once you go black, you can never go back.
Well that is because you just don’t want to go back. Chances are, the black piller realized early in life that he was the designated scapegoat of society. The one who was bred to carry the burden of everyone’s shame and guilt. So that it is easier for them to live, laugh and enjoy life without a single care in the world.
Then once he becomes a man, he realizes that it is not just his family. Everyone in society sees him as some kind of scapegoat. From friends, to relatives, to employers, right on down to even his girlfriend. He is very serious about breaking free from societal labels and expectations. Because there is just no way he signed up for any of this.
Lucky for him, he was also born a sigma male, and that will be his saving grace. So he embraces the black pill, and all of what it has to offer. The truth hurts, but it will also set you free. For the sigma male, the black pill is the ultimate path towards redemption.
It is the expectation of society that most western, straight men are macho. It is even worse if you are black, or if you otherwise come from a more “urban” setting. Because then, if you are neither a thug, nor an athlete/rapper, you are considered weird. Some may even go so far as to assume that you are gay. It doesn’t help that you keep your room neat, and that you probably like having nice things.
As a result of all of the above, what you commonly find is that people who generally fit that profile are often ostracized by the community of their origin. They have even gone so far as to coin a term to refer to you. They call you, the Metrosexual. But what exactly is a metrosexual? Are they using this term out of context?
A metrosexual, so far as they have described him, is a heterosexual male who enjoys luxuries. He tends to enjoy them noticeably more than that of the average straight man. He is often a well to do male bachelor, who lives rather lavishly in a metropolitan setting, hence the label in question.
He would much rather entertain the company of beautiful women on any given evening, than to be hanging out with his buddies, watching sports. He is always neat and orderly, with keen attention to detail. A stark contrast to the stereotype of the sloppy, buffoonish straight man. His tastes are opulent, his speech is eloquent, and the way he expresses it is sure not to go unnoticed.
It seems at first, that the feedback he is receiving from the general public is one of admiration. But it is usually not too long after, that admiration turns to criticism. The people with whom he interacts are often dumbfounded in deciding what to make of him. So they just assume that he is gay. Or that somehow there is just something inherently wrong with him.
What society may consider a calm and mild-mannered character, may actually be their misunderstanding of the suave and sophisticated mannerisms that the metrosexual in question likes to exude. It’s just that he is usually very selective as to when he chooses to show it. And most importantly, with whom.
They already have a stereotype in their heads as to how a straight man ought to be. So when they do realize that he is undoubtedly straight, they cannot fully accept this fact. As such, they created the label of a metrosexual, and slapped it on him hoping it would stick. Everyone in society bought it, and went back to living a life of convenience without having to think too much. And the so-called metrosexual in question never had a chance.
As someone who easily fits the profile of a metrosexual, I am very much offended and disgusted by that label. Whenever they use that term, they are basically suggesting that there is no way one can be fully straight, while being so disciplined and orderly. So then they label you a metrosexual, thinking that it will somehow take something away from you being a heterosexual.
They don’t really care whether or not you are actually straight. They just want to make sure that you are left feeling misunderstood. Because you failed to meet their expectations of how a straight man should be. The only proof they could possibly have of you being gay, is if they caught you in bed with another man. The rest is nothing more than stereotypes. When in fact, who you really are, is a hedonist.
Everything that they have used to describe the so-called metrosexual, also describes a hedonist. A hedonist is someone who has fine taste for all things luxurious and pleasurable. Sex is but one form of hedonism, and the hedonist refuses to allow his hedonism to be reduced to only his sexuality.
Most of his hedonistic indulgences are platonically rooted. Now don’t get me wrong, sex is of the utmost importance to a hedonist. But, he also enjoys traveling, dining, art, wine tasting, long walks on the beach, cozy evenings by the fireplace, etc.
So for society to label someone as a metrosexual, is to reduce his entire being, and all of his life experiences down to merely his sexuality. If a metro-sexual, why not a metro-social? Why not a metro-socialite? But then again, why metro anything? Sexual or otherwise! Why not just call me a hedonist?
You see, social labels are created by narcissistic control freaks, who feel it is their place to define you. First, they approach you under the guise of friendship. And it is usually not long after, that you begin to notice that not only are they not interested in any kind of genuine friendship, but that they actually chose to target you for a sado-masochistic relationship. A one-sided exchange where you feel obligated to love the ones you fear. Where they are amused by your humiliation, and how well you can take it.
They want to reduce you down to nothing more than either your race, gender, or sexual orientation. It is usually something external like that. Their “friends” (henchmen) are only there to help them reinforce the negative labeling and stereotyping of the targeted individual in question. And they had better do it, or else the ring leader will turn on them next.
They are cowards, because everyone in the gang realizes just how powerless and vulnerable the ring leader actually is. And by all accounts, they should just gang up on the ring leader, until he or she has no choice but to flee. But still, they refuse. Not only that, but they are hypocrites for having a double standard when it comes to choosing which one of the hedonists they are going to target.
They likely envy hedonists all across the board, but only seem to have enough courage for a hedonist from their side of the tracks. Someone who feels safe and familiar to them. Do you have any idea how much courage it takes to be your true, authentic self in a world full of fakes? But I guess that is what makes them all so despicable.
Sado-masochism is like captivity for a hedonist. And it is more likely to happen early in life when we are still inexperienced as to who we are, and how much power we actually have over our own lives. If only we knew exactly who we are, we would know that hedonists rule with love. A love for ourselves, a love for the sweet delicacies of life, and a love for those who love us too.
A sado-masochistic exchange is actually the very opposite of hedonism. It is vile, evil and disgusting. The mere thought that someone who claims that they love you, would actually allow themselves to take you for granted, is reprehensible. No hedonist who actually knows what it means to be a hedonist, would ever allow anyone to treat them that way.
That is how most people in society are. Females are skeptical of you, and would rather date the thug, or the buffoon over you. Deep down inside, they know the truth. They just don’t want to admit it. Not even to themselves. Either way, it’s their loss. It is truly a pity they won’t get to experience that the hedonistic male is actually the better catch. After all, we do make better lovers.
We are charming, romantic, and sophisticated. We have exquisite taste for the finer things in life, and will literally spoil the dress off any woman. We are perfect for women who are actually healthy. Our enemies know it, otherwise they would not be working night and day to try and stop us from doing what we want.
Hedonistic men have an extra responsibility to thoroughly scrutinize the kind of women we allow into our lives. Ghetto girls aren’t meant for us. Regular girls aren’t good for us. We should settle for nothing less than the absolute best. Our hedonistic equals as it were.
It would also help if you were to change social class. No one in your social circles would have a problem with your hedonism if they are also of a higher caliber. Believe me, it is the only way. Otherwise, prepare to live a reclusive life, long term. But whatever you do, do not allow just about any random person to enter your spiritual aura. They are not worth it.
Have you ever seen an item for sale that you want to purchase? Say for example, a new car? You want it so bad, yet you don’t have the money to pay it off in full, at closing. This is always a very disappointing moment, because of the simple fact that you either cannot have what you want, or you have to wait for it.
So, you decide to save for it. As soon as you are about to meet your savings goal, an emergency comes up. Usually a medical emergency, or emergency car repairs. At this point, the new car you wanted is no longer a novelty item, and you don’t even want it anymore. This is always frustrating.
If you want a new car, you have to save for it. If your boss wants a new car, he puts you to work twice as hard. Plus you have to go into the office for half a day, every other Saturday. All while he takes his family out to the ball game you were meaning to see. Some guys just have all the luck. Right?
WRONG! We are all capable of achieving what we want. The difference lies in our mindset. Do you think your boss is more qualified for his job than you are? He is probably a dumbass who got the hookup from some of his drinking buddies. Either that, or he is a narcissist who kicked innocent people off the corporate ladder on his way up. If she is a woman, she probably fits the trope of a dumb blonde who slept her way up the corporate ladder, and doesn’t have a clue about what she is doing.
Whatever the case may be, you are probably way more qualified than they are. Yet you are stuck bringing them coffee. You should be working for yourself as an entrepreneur. There are countless opportunities that are available on the internet. But you have to go in there with a clear exit strategy already in place.
For example, you might consider that you will only work for 2 years, in order to save enough start-up capital. So that for the remainder of your days, you will never feel forced into a position where you are stuck serving a blasted bunch of ingrates. You must then commit your free time towards learning everything you can about your niche. No more mindlessly scrolling through social media first thing in the morning before you have even gotten up to go take a leak. No offense, but we have all been guilty of that at some point, or other.
As you go along, you will soon discover that you are able to practice several niches. The moment you realize that YOU have more control over your earnings as an entrepreneur than you ever did as an employee, you will instantly quit your job. Do you remember when I said that there is always an emergency whenever you are about to reach your saving goals?
It is only after you quit your job that you will realize that half those emergencies were created by conditions you experienced on the job. Whether they cut your hours, or transferred you over to a different department. Or they changed your shift, or transferred you over to a different job site, all the way across town that would see you going out of your way.
Spending more on gas to cover the unnecessary extra miles. Whatever it is, it’s always something, and all those conditions accumulate overtime. If your boss perceives you as a threat, I guarantee you that he is doing it deliberately. And it is only a matter of time before they set you up to be fired.
As an employee, when you saw something you wanted to purchase, you had to save in order to be able to purchase it. The con is that you have to sacrifice something you enjoy for the greater good of what you want. For example, you may have had fewer happy hour margaritas, so you could save for a new couch. Or a few less pairs of shoes, so you could save for a new car. That is counterproductive for all the reasons I have stated above. Your sacrifice could still pay off. But how likely are you to remain motivated if your goal seems far fetched?
As an investor, you have already made the sacrifice by risking everything you own, for a dream. All you have to do now is reap what you sow. If you want a car, you can raise the funds for it without sacrificing the things you like. If you explore the features of your banking app, you will discover something they call a “Goal Envelope,” that you can customize to suit a specific goal you have in mind.
They call it a goal envelope, not a savings envelope. And you can have several of them, different envelopes for different goals. Perhaps they intended for the goal envelope to be funded without compromising the quality of your life, and the things you enjoy. Perhaps it is more efficient to finance your purchase by raising the surplus for it, instead of saving for it. Or god forbid borrowing for it. Especially a big ticket item like a car.
Employees have savings. And they actually think that their savings make them rich. Just because they are able to make a couple of moves with it. That money is fleeting, and will soon run out unless they invest it in a worthwhile venture.
Investors have surplus. Or are able to produce surplus without much compromise. With that surplus, they will be able to make real power moves in the world. Moves that employees can only dream of.
Poor parents tell their kids to save, and rich parents teach their kids to invest. They actually sit them down, and teach them everything they know about investments. This is actually far more important than the pile of damned rubbish that they teach the poor kids in public schools. Do you wonder why the wealthy always seem to stay ahead in life?
John D. Rockefeller once famously said, “I want a nation of workers, not a nation of thinkers.” With that said, he sanctioned the writing of a standardized school curriculum for public schools, that promised an education for the children of the working class.
That system would provide poor children with the chance for a better life than their parents had. But did they receive an education, or did they receive indoctrination? Worse than that, they threatened to incarcerate the parents for child neglect if they did not send their kids to school.
The indoctrination of working class children was reinforced by the indoctrination of their parents, who themselves were brainwashed. They would often tell them things like; “one foot before the other.” Or they would say; “save and sacrifice for what you want,” or “work hard, slow and steady wins the race.”
They failed to realize that there are people in the world with machiavellian agendas who will eat you alive with that kind of thinking. And if that wasn’t bad enough, they also used religion as an excuse to call us greedy. Only so they could guilt us out of rising above our conditions.
It’s as if they had set us up to be an easy target from day one. Why should we work for a blasted bunch of ingrates for most of our youth, only to pay alimony and taxes, then die? Does that sound like it’s fair to you?
With the advent of the internet, there is hope. We are now able to learn what the wealthy have known for centuries. And practice some of what they do, so that our lives can also be worthwhile. Mark Twain once famously said; “I will not allow my schooling to stand in the way of my education.”
If your parents did not provide you with the right tools you need in order to get ahead, and the adults in society had failed you. That is indeed very unfortunate, and I empathize with you. But it is now your responsibility as an adult to rectify those mistakes, by unlearning toxic habits, and relearning healthy habits. Not only for yourself, but also for your children. So that you can break the cycle of poverty in your bloodline.
Poor parents tell their kids to save, rich parents teach their kids to invest. Don’t be a poor parent. Break that cycle, TODAY. The internet is a game changer. And with the advent of AI, it will change the landscape of the workforce, forever.
If you like your space, and your privacy much like I do. You generally don’t like when people, especially strangers, take the liberty of inviting themselves into your personal space. It is even worse if they are not smelling too right. But the violation is actually far more egregious than bad breath. If only you knew the power of your aura, you would be very careful who you allow to enter into your personal space, let alone actually touch you. This is a case for space. Personal space, that is.
Your aura is an energy force field that contains your lifeforce and your essence as a spiritual being, living in the flesh. It transcends your physical vessel, and perhaps even stretches on for at least another six feet away from where you are currently standing. That is why they recommended six feet of social distancing, during the pandemic. It was not a part of some vector control effort, it was all energy manipulation.
Someone who is vibrating on a lower, or a negative frequency can have a profound effect on your mood for the day. That is because our physical bodies are an antenna that transmits frequencies from the different people with whom we interact. We can pick up on different energies that people carry within their soul, whether or not we are aware of it. Likewise, we can transmit different energies out to other people within our immediate environment.
Which is why in Jamaica, we have this thing called, “spirit tek.” If one gets a bad feeling about someone they just met, they might say that their spirit doesn’t take that person. “Mi can’t explain it, but mi spirit just no tek him.” It is a mostly archaic reference to having a spirit of discernment.
This is not something we should ignore, as we must always respect the way we feel about someone, or something. It could definitely save us a lot of trouble, and may even save our lives.
As a rule, they taught us in school that an arm’s length of distance is sufficient. This idea does not work because we are all made in different sizes. The average adult in the western world has an arm length of about two feet from wrist to shoulder. In reality, three feet of personal space is tolerable depending on the circumstances, say public transportation for example. But ideally, five feet is sufficient. The question is, why do people feel the need to enter your personal space when talking to you?
There are some who are tone deaf, and as such, may feel that you will have difficulty in hearing them. Likewise, they may feel as though they won’t be able to hear you clearly, unless they get really close. This idea is plausible, because there really are some weirdos who deliberately turn down the volume. Just so that the person they are talking to would feel obligated to stick their neck out to hear what they have to say. Whenever this happens, it is a trick, and the thing to do is to disengage from the person doing the talking.
As plausible as the tone deaf theory may be, majority of the time, people really only enter your personal space because they are narcissists who feel entitled to violate your boundaries. That’s all there is to it. That is the time to put on your war paint. I know they taught us to undermine the importance of our personal boundaries. But believe me, it is worth fighting for. Our boundaries are literally an extension of our spiritual lifeforce beyond the flesh. And similar to word curses, physical contact can also manipulate your energy through your mood.
Apart from that, it is really just about having good manners in general. It shows the other person that you care about them enough to respect their boundaries. It also shows that you respect their perception of reality enough, that you don’t want them to get the impression that you are trying to commandeer their life. As uninvited close contact is always perceived as a sign of hostility. This is especially true if they don’t really know you like that.
Personally, in order for you to legally enter my aura, I must first invite you. And in order for me to invite you, my spirit of discernment must first positively receive your aura. The same is true whether you are a friend, a lover, or business associate. If you are not sure how I feel, then verbally ask me for permission to enter my aura.
Or you can start with the gesture of a handshake, and see if I accept. But whatever you do, giving yourself permission to enter my aura is the fastest way towards earning yourself a knuckle sandwich. Especially if you sneak up on me from behind. Planes, trains and elevators are rare exceptions. Adeu!
There is an old saying; “hell hath no fury quite like the scorn of a woman.” It really is true. But the real question is, what have I done to deserve their scorn?
While attending high school in Jamaica, I never had much luck talking to girls. They would always give me mixed signals, lead me on, and waste my time. Before ultimately rejecting me over something as shallow and minuscule as my weight, in favor of dating thugs and idiots.
During my early twenties, I lived in a Brooklyn ghetto, where a majority of people had more or less the same type of mentality, but in a different form. Not long after, I decided that her juice is just not worth the squeeze, and resigned myself to a life of bachelorhood.
Eventually, I moved to Los Angeles, where I enjoyed a few good years of privacy as a reclusive bachelor. About one year, and a half into my new life, I started to notice that women were staring at me in public. They were not smiling, or being respectful in the way they express interest, like they do with other guys. They would just stand there, staring silently. Some of them actually looked crossed.
At this point, I was just about turning 30, and didn’t want to waste any more time on false leads. I already developed a complex where I feel like they wouldn’t like me. So, I figured I would save us both the trouble by avoiding contact altogether. But to my surprise, that is when they would approach me. Is it my age, or location? Perhaps a little of both?
Why are they approaching me now, after I have already made up my mind to avoid contact with any of them? They don’t want you when you are chasing them. But as soon as you either settle down and go steady, or call it quits, that is when they suddenly decide that they want to push themselves onto you. What the hell is wrong with people?
If only their interest in me was genuine, but I am sure it’s not. Many of them only wanted to lead me on, just so they could shoot me down when I chased them. When I didn’t chase them, they found more subtle ways to reject me regardless. For example, they might fix their hair with their left hand after I have already seen them write with their right hand. They only use their left hand whenever I am around, just to make sure I see the ring.
Another nasty tactic of theirs would be to act like they are searching for something on their phones. Making sure to come across a picture they took with some guy they want me to assume is their boyfriend. And after my final job in New York dealing with bitchy colleagues, I figured that I just about had it up to here with women. I am not through with them, but I am also not going to chase them, you can be certain of that.
Those mean tactics really used to get to me in my twenties. But now I cannot help but to laugh at how pathetic they all are. Imagine having to resort to using the allure of platonic conversation, to lure someone who is clearly NOT interested, into a rejection trap. That is how deep it runs with them. Are you able to trust a creature such as this? If she can set you up for unwarranted rejection, she can also set you up to get robbed and shot. I already told you that her poison juice is not worth the squeeze.
I accept that that’s just the way they are. It would be bad enough if she doesn’t like me, I don’t like her either, and we simply leave it at that. It would be bad enough like I said. And at this point, it would actually be kind of cool to be honest. But do you know what really puzzles me? Why do they stare at someone they neither like, nor respect? Here is my theory.
Women tend to compartmentalize different men in their heads based on several factors, such as money, status, and physical appearance. Whether or not they know they are compartmentalizing you, that is exactly what they are doing. Now, me personally? I am a large black man. Not only that but, let’s just say that there is more of me to love. Oh yea, one more thing. I am not a stupid ghetto thug out here acting a fool. Those factors alone would make me instantly unattractive to ghetto girls, and worthy only of mockery in their eyes.
If there is one thing you should know about me, it is that I, B. Lorenzo Buckinchere, do not kowtow to societal expectations. I have my own plans for being alive, and I wasn’t born for this shit. That statement alone would be fighting words, sure to make a lot of enemies. My no-nonsense approach to life is not something I need tattooed to my forehead in order to make it known. People are highly perceptive, and they can pick up on these things. It is written all over my body language, whether, or not I was always aware of it. Not that I intend to change it, because I am not hiding from anybody.
They have created a social pecking order in their heads, and place you where they think you belong based on looks and financial status. Based on how they perceive me, they expected me to be some kind of a desperate incel, out here simping for female validation. But when she sees that I don’t even notice her, she starts to worry. She worries because I have single-handedly destroyed her ego, along with her delusions, and nothing in her world makes sense anymore.
She also fears that I, who she looks down on so much, could possibly go out and find another woman who is undoubtedly kinder, prettier and classier than she will ever be. Only to come back and rub it in her face. Worse than that, she is afraid that I could actually settle down, and find happiness with someone special. And that our love will serve as a good example for a happy relationship while she is still stuck in the ghetto with the stupid derelict thug.
Or worse, as a single mother after her boyfriend is either killed, or sent to prison. She is a narcissistic attention whore who is ruled by the spirit of jezebel. The last thing she wants is for the public to bear witness to the fact that someone she considers as being worthy of nothing but ridicule can actually go out and do better than her. Think of all the other men she ridicules who can be helped by the example of my success story.
Whether or not I actually have those intentions. Those scenarios with me and another woman, is still a vivid reality in her head. They keep her awake at night, and motivate her to try and drop subtle hints of rejection in my subconscious every time she encounters me. She hopes to assassinate my future chances for happiness by shooting my confidence in the present moment.
She is further motivated when she realizes that she will; “look like a punk out here in these streets,” if she feels like I dissed her, and she didn’t do anything about it. So then she attacks me to defend her street cred, and also her ego so she can sleep well at night.
All these things, and God alone knows what else could possibly be running through her head, and all I want is to live a happy and hedonistic existence on my own terms. She can dish it, but she cannot take it. And the very thought of getting rejected herself is unacceptable to her. Sometimes, you just have to let evil people stew in their own miserable juices. Which is exactly what will happen when everything they have planned for you, backfires.
Thankfully, not all women are like that. I have been very fortunate to have met some truly amazing women these past 20 years, and in some of the most unexpected places at that. They too are outcasts, so they know exactly what it feels like to be ostracized by the world. And we have made a pact that in our world, there will be nothing but love. They help make the duty and obligation that I have to reject evil women far more bearable than it otherwise would have been. They are a beacon of light to the world, and to the future, and they have given me hope.
