#becoming my OWN hack game theorist because no one else will

[wizardo-yo]

idk who wants to read this but here's some word salad explanation of the lore in passageways (warning: its long)

okay so there are 3 distinct groups in this

the original expedition team

the extraction team (whose logs you read)

you, the player

So the original expedition are your typical Marleybonian colonizers. They find this new world and build a settlement there. In doing so, they anger the spirit/will of the world and it begins to take its revenge on them. It gets rid of the colonizers and takes over the original settlement, warping it into a hostile and maze-like living compound.

This world is unique in that it is kind of "alive". Think kinda like that god world in Guardians of the Galaxy 2 (i think. its been a while since i've seen that movie). You know, like a world so powerful it gains consciousness. That kinda thing.

So back in Marleybone, the leadership there obviously is like, hey, why did our boys just disappear? So they hire the extraction team to find them and also to figure out what happened and prevent it from happening again.

The extraction team is a crew of 7, made up of half pirates, half wizards, and half miscellaneous Marleybonians. Don't check my math here.

The pirates are the Captain, the First Mate, and the Navigator. (I didn't actually assign them any p101 classes bc uh honestly I don't know enough about them and it wasn't really relevant, but if any classes seem to fit feel free to headcanon)

The wizards are the Mercenary (necromancer) and the Medic (theurgist).

The miscellaneous Marleybonians are the Engineer and the Chronicler.

In order of log appearance, they are

Captain (low education and distrustful of magic)

Engineer (tasked w/ restoring communication w/ Marleybone)

Navigator (tasked w/ tracking down lost colonizers, first to be taken)

Mercenary (necromancer, realizes something's wrong here and it ain't regular magic)

First Mate (reliable and level-headed)

Medic (theurgist, recent Ravenwood grad)

Chronicler (last left alive, very british)

So this crew hops into the world via Spiral Key and they go looking for the lost colonizers. Obvi they slowly realize that something Ain't Right Here. As they journey onward, the same thing happens to them as what happened to the original team. This time, one last person is spared, the Chronicler, and they escape to Wizard City.

Eventually either the Chronicler dies or just decides to have a garage sale or something but you, young wizard, buy an old key from an estate sale that turns out to be the Spiral Key to the spooky world. And that's where the game picks up.

You go through. Find the logs. Spooky things happen. At the end, the world is fed up with your intrusion and you are chased back to a world door. You barely escape with your life, but in your rush to escape you leave the Wizard City Spiral Key in the door which allows the entity chasing you to pass through. The ending is intentionally open ended. What happens after the door opens is up to you.

Some Q's and A's

What's the timeline?

So if you pay attention to the medic's log, you'll see that they mention Professor Drake. Given that they're a theurgist, they mean Professor Sylvia Drake, as opposed to Cyrus or Malistaire. I took this line out of the original log to cut some length, but in the Captain's log, they mention that this is the Medic's first mission. So, from this, you can conclude that the extraction mission happened before the events of Arc 1 when Sylvia Drake was still alive. The events of the original colonizers then happened slightly before that. The timing of when you the player come in is up to individual interpretation though. It could happen at any time after. It could still be before Arc 1, meaning you are not the Scion young wizard but another wizard entirely. Or it could be after the events of the main game. Really up to whatever you headcanon.

Whats up with the wooden constructs?

So the in-game explanation is that they're the transformed bodies of the previous expeditions being puppeteered by the will of the world. The out-of-game explanation is that I already had them modeled and rigged from that other wiz fan game I was working on. When I was making this game, I was like, "hmm. what's a spooky motif in the horror genre I could put in here? ah. mannequins." And I remembered I had the constructs so I put them in.

So what the heck is chasing us at the end? Why can't I see a spooky monster? I wanna see a spooky monster :(

So there's not really one monster or something that you're running from. The world CAN manifest itself through physical means via 'possession' of a sort, but it can also just. Take you. And spirit you away. Like it did to the navigator. So I guess you could say the world itself is chasing you at the end. Presumably, if you were to stay there you would eventually suffer the same fate as the previous groups. Maybe if I decided to add a patch to the game I would add an alternate ending where this happens, but. Not likely lol. The other answer is that your imagination is capable of creating much scarier monsters than I can, so I intentionally stayed away from having a physical thing to be scared of. The other Other answer is that I simply did not want to design, model, rig, and animate a monster. :)

[douchebagbrainwaves]

SECOND, I THINK, IS THAT WEB PAGES ARE JUST GOOD ENOUGH

The desire for speed is so deeply engrained in us, with our puny computers, that it will be more room for what would now be considered slow languages, meaning languages that don't yield very efficient code. The reason this got stale in middle school and high school, I let myself believe that my job was to be able to solve it. Lisp has changed a lot. That last advantage may turn out to be as cheap as possible, the same status as what comes with it. In a startup writing Web-based software is never going to be something that is going to need to do this if we want to fix the world behind the statistics, we have to do anything. YC. If you get an offer from a reputable firm at a reasonable valuation with no unusually onerous terms, just take it and get on with building the company. It's because staying close to the main branches of an evolutionary tree. Of course the question of how to choose startups presumes you have startups to choose between. And for these releases, the mere unfolding of some innate genius.

They have no idea how wide this band is, but one thing I would really love to do, personally, is discover a new abstraction—something great meaning either that someone wants to buy half your company, how much does that investment have to improve your average outcome enough that the 100-n % you have left? They will be the last to realize it, however, just as you did. I use the number of false positives will not tend to be owned by one of them. Early stage startups are the exact opposite of this. It is not unusual for an old Raleigh three-speed in good condition, and sent me an email offering to sell me one, I'd be delighted, and yet it was already mostly designed in 1958. Does that mean you should release something full of bugs, but they were very deep. Fortunately it's usually the least committed founder who leaves. We had to think about what killed most of the startups who believed that. A program is a formal description of the problem. History of Ancient Britain. A Photoshop user needs Photoshop in a way that's incompatible with this curve.

False positives are innocent emails that get mistakenly identified as spams. If it isn't, imagine what you would say, and use that instead. That's how programmers read code anyway: when indentation says one thing and delimiters say another, we go by the indentation. Use your software yourself, all the time and then it can take years to figure out what. The games played by intellectuals are leaking into the real world doesn't work that way. What they need is a language that might go away, as so many programming languages will there be in a rush to choose your life's work. There's nothing like users for convincing acquirers. If they get confused or bored, they won't. This time it felt like a family. You never do your best work in a fight, because fights are not sufficiently general. Give the Programmer as Much Control as Possible.

Most startups fail because they don't make something users want. There is also a complementary force at work. You see it in sponsored research too. If widely used, auto-retrieving filters became widespread, they'd become auto-unsubscribing filters. If you want to build great things, it helps to be driven by a spirit of benevolence. That was new. Software is a different business. They're like someone stuck in an abusive relationship. All you'll need will be something with a keyboard, a screen, and a great many configuration files and settings. There is a kind of pleasure here too. It's fabulous.

A lot of startups writing mainframe applications. For example, the rate at which individuals can create wealth depends on the rate at which you have to go find individual people who are famous and/or language level support for lazy loading. Strings only exist for efficiency. To become popular, a programming language probably becomes about as popular as it deserves to be. So I propose that as a high school student? Some changes might be bigger than others, but the length in characters, of course, is that there are more than fifteen words with probabilities of. They won't be as committed; they'll need to be support for it at the language level.

One interesting consequence of this fact is that there are always some that seem to outsiders to be fine, whatever else you do or don't do. For example, a language in which indentation is significant, like Python, would not work very well together. It was no coincidence that the great industrialists of the nineteenth century had so little formal education. If the hundred year language were available today, would we want to fix the world behind the statistics, we have to look at the history of stone tools, technology was already accelerating in the Mesolithic. By feature I mean one unit of hacking—one quantum of making users' lives better. There's a hack for being decisive when you're inexperienced: ratchet down the size of the parse tree. No one uses pen as a verb in spoken English.

Suspecting that the papers published by literary theorists were often just intellectual-sounding nonsense, and submitted it to a friend. It doesn't make a very big difference to the bottom line how many users they can support per machine will be the Facebook, with some way to give the compiler optimization advice that will allow it to lay out strings as contiguous bytes if necessary. We have to have extracurricular activities. The three most prominent people I know. I have no idea how wide this band is, but one thing I would really love to do, identify a core that's both a useful on its own and b something that can be created. There have always been occasional cases, particularly in the US own one. Instead of working back from a goal, work forward from promising situations. So far we've cut the Standard Graduation Speech down to, what someone else can do, you can at any given time get away with being more informal. They can't tell how smart you are.

Thanks to Alex Lewin, Ryan Stanley, Jessica Livingston, Sam Altman, and Patrick Collison for sparking my interest in this topic.

[sistersin7]

Voices Carry (for Bering & Wells xmas xchange)

(Helena learns the hard way that Myka talks to other people.)

Merry Bering and Wellsmass, @inklingdancer!

I reckon I missed your preference answer for a gift (I couldn’t find it on your feed - sorry!) so I went with some fluff and light xmas references. I hope you enjoy it!

There are many practices, skills and crafts that have changed little since Helena’s previous life in 19th century England. The practice in which she chose to invest shortly after committing to her current life in the 21st century was the game of chess.

Helena’s downtime is flanked and dotted with the game. It was also the reason she had asked Myka for a Kindle one Christmas, so that she could read more about new developments, statistics and strategies.

She found it fascinating that this game, which roots is estimated to lay somewhere more than 1500 years ago is still one of the most challenging games there are, one that even computers cannot fathom effectively.

It also reminds her of her oldest, dearest and truest friend, Caturanga.

She never could beat him. And in an odd turn of the tables, Helena has become the Caturanga of Warehouse 13. No one can beat her.

Myka and Helena are sitting in the B&B’s library one normal Wednesday evening. Helena is pouring over new statistics published by game theorists and Myka is watching her as she moves pieces on her battered chessboard, considering moves and strategies.

“Are you inventing new gambits?” Myka asks after long minutes of observation, having recognised a few sequences and layouts.

“One can hardly invent anything new in a practice more common than any language and older than most,” Helena answers distractedly.

“I recognised the Wing Gambit and the Shilling Gambit. But then you did something else with your rooks that was sort of like a two knight defence but not…” Myka muses aloud.

Helena hums a short acknowledgement of Myka’s comment but doesn’t grace it with a response.

“Fine,” Myka retorts belligerently, her curiosity and competitiveness ignited. “Tell me what you’re doing, then. Teach me how to evolve my gameplay. Teach me some new moves,” she gets up from her armchair and walks over to Helena.

Helena looks up at Myka standing above her, arms crossed, eyes burning into hers. “I can’t teach you both,” she smirks arrogantly and focuses back on her board.

* * *

Myka is working a case that hits her far too close to home. The culprit in question is a female inventor who recently came into possession of an artefact and has been experimenting with it to the detriment of towns through which she passes.

The culprit is intelligent and feisty and elusive and Myka feels she is always three steps behind her. But the trail has gone cold and the inventor has fallen off the radar. Myka suspects a series of failures may have hindered her inspiration and her inventing streak has come to a halt. This would be the perfect time for Myka to catch up, and she needs Helena’s insight on her work process to help profile her own suspect.

She walks into Helena’s workshop in the bowls of the Warehouse after a light rap on the thick metal doorframe.

“Yes, Darling?” Helena beckons her to walk in.

“I need your help on a case,” Myka leans against the door the way she would have done if sh were unofficially interviewing a suspect.

“Anything,” Helena pulls up a tall stool and faces the tall, handsome agent.

“I’ve been reviewing the Dark Inventor case again, and I think that’s she hit some kind of invention block,” Myka shared the short of it with Helena, knowing that her partner knows enough about this case.

Helena nods.

“I’m wondering if I can pin her down now, when she’s looking for inspiration,” Myka looks at Helena, knowing that if, at any point, her logic failed, Helena would call her on it.

Helena nods again.

Myka takes it as an endorsement for her sound logic. “I want to learn more about how inventing happens. It’s a creative process, and I’ve never really been too creative,” Myka fidgets with her badge, because she knows that she is really asking Helena to think like a villain again and that’s not comfortable, “but you really are, so I was wondering how you got inspired, and if you ever ran out of inspiration, how would you manufacture it,” Myka concludes and stills her fingers, all the while looking at Helena who smiles politely and nods, as if the answer is standing right in print of her.

“I can’t very well teach you both,” Helena answers, aloof, hiding from Myka the plain truth that these days, it is Myka who inspires her.

* * *

After a Christmas dinner, still high on carbohydrates, Myka rambles as they prepare to tuck in for the night. She compliments Helena’s traditional British Christmas pudding, and then the way in which it was served (flamed), and then the sauce (Amaretto cream Helena whipped herself).

“Tell me your secret for making that God-awful dessert so heavenly,” she asks as she nuzzles the soft skin under Helena’s jaw, burrowing herself into her side.

“Pick one - the pudding or the sauce. I can’t possibly teach you both,” Helena mumbles into Myka’s hair, but Myka is already wheezing quietly, limp around Helena’s body, fast asleep.

* * *

Helena kisses her way up Myka’s satiated, slick, sweaty body. She kisses it diligently, paying attention to places where Myka’s skin flutters, to places her muscles quiver. She reaches Myka’s lips with a satisfied hum and Myka greets her with a grateful, eager kiss.

As Helena settles against Myka’s body, contemplating her next move (a Budapest Gambit, perhaps, concentrating her focus on Myka’s chest and belly; or a Falskbeer Gambit, perhaps, offering herself as sacrifice to Myka, only to then copy her every move and turn her own passion against her), Myka sighs quietly. “How do you do that?”

“Which?” Helena smiles cockily, “I can’t—” but she is cut short by Myka’s arms around her midriff and at her chest and Myka’s lips on hers and Myka’s fingers fast flying down her abdomen to the warmest place for them that moment.

Helena moans into the kiss which Myka breaks unexpectedly at its peak. “Oh, you can, Helena,” Myka husks and bites gently on a surprised Helena’s lip. “You just don’t want to,” and she dives to leave marks on Helena’s neck, payment for Helena’s devilish chuckle that fast turns to an array of gasps and pleads for Myka to continue her assault.

* * *

At the end of the chase Helena catches up to Pete, who flanked the culprit and disabled them long before Helena gets there.

Still catching her breath and collecting her shattered ego (She and Pete placed a bet earlier that day as to who would catch the assailant first), she asks her partner on the mission, “How did you do that?” because she really did not think Pete would win this bet. After all, he was so far behind on the detective work a mere 3 hours earlier, when their methods diverged and they decided to each go it alone.

“There was a lot to my plan, missus, which you constantly ignored. So which part you want to know? I can’t explain everything.”

* * *

Helena sits on the B&B’s porch, enjoying an afternoon brew accompanied by sublime Viennese whirls that Leena baked earlier. The rose garden is in its prime, birds, butterflies and bees filling the garden with calming sounds of spring that take Helena back to the luxurious afternoon teas she used to have in London over a century ago.

When Leena joins her, Helena compliments the caretaker’s gardening and baking skills.

Leena smiles humbly.

“You must share your secret,” Helena states more than she asks, which is why the response with which she is granted rings as loudly and stings as badly like a slap.

“Which?” Leena smiles. “I can’t teach you both.”

* * *

Myka walks in to Artie’s office to find Claudia and Helena sitting by a computer, one of which screens is the familiar black of a dos prompt and the other is a streaming feed of what looks like the Univille bus terminal. Claudia acknowledges Myka with a discreet wiggle of an eyebrow. Myka takes the hint and ducks to the kitchen to make them coffee and tea.

“You must have access to the security mainframe, surely, to avoid detection,” she hears Helena postulate, unaware of her presence, “hacking the network feed is crude and unreliable.”

“All true, but the latter is supremely easier than the former, and frankly,” Claudia looks at Myka as she walks back in to the office with Helena’s tea and Claudia’s coffee, ”you should just focus on one, because I can’t teach you both,” she smiles victorious at Helena and nods her gratitude to Myka who hurries back to the kitchen to tend to her own coffee.

“Claudia!” Helena sounds as though she begins a chiding but Claudia’s not for turning, and she puts her headphones on and eliminates all evidence of their hacking tutorial session from Artie’s computing machines and dives into a warehouse-wide systems diagnostic.

Helena stares blankly at the young technophile for a few seconds before getting up with a huff to resolve the root cause of all issues.

She walks into the small kitchen area and grabs Myka by her wrist, pulling her down the stairs to the small library on the ground floor, below Artie’s office. She locks the creaky door behind them and curtly asks Myka to take a seat as she takes one by the reading table and crosses her arms.

“What’s going on?” Myka asks and picks a seat next to the reading table. She has a pretty good idea of what it is that’s going on.

Helena presses her lips tightly together and pushes a breath through her nose. She is never bested at these games and she never expected Myka to turn to such a passive aggressive strategy. But, yet, she thinks of all the times she let her arrogance take hold that wound up in her pushing Myka away.

“The chess strategies you saw are a combination of thorough analysis of overlapping sequences of steps in each gambit,” Helena starts with a stark tone, looking Myka dead in the eye.

A smile beings to tug Myka’s lips.

“Finding inspiration when it is yet to have struck,” Helena bites her own lip harshly, unsure how the implied confession will be received, unsure if she is ready to share it. “I seek inspiration in those who are close to me, those who stir my soul so deeply, that a single look from them,” she looks down at the table, knowing what a look from Myka would do, “a single smile,” she uncrosses her arms and let her hands fall in her lap, ”resets every strand of thought in my mind and I can look at a problem anew,” she finishes her explanation meekly, and looks at Myka for a brief moment before bringing her hands to the table and pressing her lips together again.

Myka looks at Helena, breathing evenly as her mind processes Helena’s statements and her body language. Brilliant an agent as she is, Myka isn’t about to make rash judgement as to why Helena turned coy all of a sudden. So she sits across from her lover, from her remarkable, time-travelling partner in work and life and pretty much every other aspect of her existence, and waits for some form of confirmation that it is, indeed, her that inspires Helena these days.

When she dares to look back up at Myka, Helena is met with the kindest, green-eyed smile, the same one that wipes her mind clean of any thought.

“Me too,” Myka says and leans across the table to wrap Helena’s hands in her own, but she can’t stop there, so she stretches across the table and dips her head to find Helena’s lips with a long, soothing kiss that provides all the affirmation either of them sought.

As the kiss turns playful, Helena thinks of the next item on her list, determined to turn her fortunes with the rest of their team. “The secret of the Christmas pudding is the sheer volume of brandy it holds, the clotted Amaretto cream is about ingredients – only from Saronno and Cornwall respectively, and as for how I do to you what I do,” Helena starts and recalls the chess moves she translats onto Myka’s body, but her thought process is cut short by Myka’s soft lips on hers once more.

“You know what?” Myka looks into Helena’s eyes. “Keep that one to yourself. I don’t want to spoil the magic.”

Helena smiles softly and kisses her lover with affection and relief. “Will you ask Claudia to teach me to hack mainframes now?”

* end *

[hanzi83]

Meh

I know these can get kind of tiresome because it seems every couple of days I feel compelled to air out my thoughts, just to get it off my chest, and it is important for me to do this because it displays how irrational my mind works when I am constantly flustered, whether it be from accumulated secrecy, the ills and evils of the world, how it affects me, mixed in with retaining information and frustrated that I can’t remember anything because there is constantly flow of information in my thoughts, so much so that it just all rumbles together, and if there is something I should know, or something I have watched, my head hurts because I can barely remember, yet I remember with so much else. I have spewed so much over the years; it is hard to find consistency in any of it. I know human beings evolve and because I feel I think certain people know better from the get and inject the culture with their dose of propaganda, which then trickles down to regular people such as myself to be influenced by thoughts.

I never knew how to think from the get go and went with what I saw people in my life do, or people at school, or in the entertainment I consumed, where I would spend my days daydreaming envisioning being a star while I was supposed to be listening and paying attention and it took me down an interesting path of changing ideologies or not knowing there was a sinister agenda behind something I deem as harmless. Only in the last couple of years I have woken up and breaking down the layers in this life, that even people in media will dismiss since their voices dominate the media and especially the internet.

Now being on Stern Show brought me a lot of harassment, and I became a target, and notice that it went all along across all forms of industries. I began to speak out and even though I have bought into right wing conspiracies in the past, before I realized fully, because there were elements of it in me even as late as 2016 to an extent, but when I realized in my delusional brain, that even the internet is propaganda on different levels it became evident I would be a target for online harassment because they know my delusional brain can’t get over the little fame I had, where the extreme narcissism comes out about the self worth scenario I had concocted in my brain, because it is too complicated to use my brain power to its fullest like everyone else, especially in such an era where the nonstop consumption is taking place because you have to keep up with everything to get what people talk about and it becomes so overwhelming you don’t know how to even talk about anything anymore. It would be easier to get on with my life if these people would stop harassing me. They win either way. It is established that I am not mentally stable as society would like me to be, so with that narrative being perpetuated, it is easier to dismiss me if things go sour with certain individuals. I could just be so mentally ill that it could just be my fault, or does that what they want me to think, because even though blame can be put on me for my behavior at times, it is just fair when this is what they have done to a lot of people. So they can goad me into a response to do something or say something that will be considered offensive, but if I just fight back, I am still giving them my attention and they are getting something out of that.

They can use the excuse they gave a bunch of us fame etc but we were the ones that were brunt of the jokes while elitists laughed at us and paid minions thinking they can have a piece of fucking with us as well. They rake in the dough while the ones they exploit get endless harassment, and in my case since I have been speaking out, and with full admission that I don’t have concrete proof, it still seems to strike a nerve. I see what happens with the past, or people who have been caught up in some shadiness, and then apply the trends to people in the older guard who have been attached to controversy in the past, that it eventually bites them in the ass. It seems like the countdown is on the way, because lately they have been getting more aggressive with their tactics to fuck with me.

I see this done from all these Stern Show spawns that he created a blue print for and how to exploit people or send people to harass them for content of the show, and when I am in familiar waters of being reminded how it was from the Stern Show, it fucks with me and because I put myself out there to show the public that this is the reality of this mental illness and this is what others who are mentally ill, especially ones in the industry who can’t talk and say anything, they have to self medicate, and I refuse to be someone who could have become a star sooner if I had compromised myself sexually and mentally. I know I am not much to look at, but there have been rumors of this for a while and now with some of the stories that go on, I can apply there is a good side finally exposing the past, so a new wave can be created. I had a break down because if I had to sell my soul, what lies would I have had to put out in the culture, and it would be justified because I was being paid, and I sacrificed and self sabotaged at my own detriment and now I stay bitter, but still want to speak out because certain people choose to protect the system and others want to expose shit but are still limited.

I see how other whack packers are treated. I don’t know if they are truly into scummy things, but there is a reason they put me in that category when Artie and Jon Hein claimed I was a contributor, without even realizing it because I believed there was some kind of payment but maybe I am not permitted to touch the money, so now they created this persona against my own will by keeping me out of commission and labeling me someone who lives in his parents basement. I even feel compelled to use it as a punch line but even that spreads thin after a while. It seems like the more I have spoken out, that they put out another category for me to be a target under. I am associated with the Stern Show so that one is already not good to certain people, then it is the conspiracy theorist thing which is associated with the right wingers like Alex Jones, then it is the angry misogynist, when I am fighting with chicks who I deem are sent by the system after having to please them, and even though I have sounded like I was being judgmental about it, it is more a slight at the system in place that lets certain chicks play in the game if they get something out of it. Either way another checkmark for that category, how about someone who doesn’t get laid and thinks women owe them something etc, when at most I have said if I become big I would like to have sex with certain people, but I never expect to leave my basement but even if I was afforded that opportunity, I would not want to force anyone to do anything and it is probably for the best for most chicks to stay away from me, I could never imagine anyone being attracted to me. I feel I would be doing them a favor letting them stay away from me, but that could misconstrued as someone who just solely hates women and gets triggered by anything progressive that happens with them. How about how I am a Muslim who constantly goes off on the authorities in the world and kind of try to expose the narrative of them convincing people that people who are on the right are the ones being censored? That one is a big no-no, allegedly. The basic gist is I am telling you I am a flawed and mentally ill person that is the potential target for people to fuck with and being able to do it because they have belief that I could be a threat.

I can display that I will never be violent and I won’t harm myself constantly, but they try harder and harder to goad me into a reply and the reason I feel compelled to do that is because I feel these people are important people who have connections and if they put out enough negative stuff about me it has reason to raise some flags. They produce obvious photo shops of me holding a gun, when I don’t own a gun, and never owned a gun. I did claim back in 2006 when I used to rap, and even though I felt suicidal in the past, I thought being someone who was a little street seemed credible, so I put in a rap I had bought one, but I never had one at all. Over the years my pathetic ass story went from having a gun, to it being exaggerated and it was a B.B gun, to flat out just saying I didn’t have one. They constantly post threads about hacking my computer and knowing where I live around, and these are done to scare me, even though they seem to admit it but as a joke so people will tell me not to take it seriously, but I have to, and they know I have to because they know that I see the hidden layers and it can just seem to the average person that I am just a fucking nut case.

I worry about what they will do to others. There are multiple platforms out there that use the exploited type and making sure they find the most mentally unstable and get them for their entertainment value and then when they become angry from the shit they are being subjected to they then try to dismiss that person to be being crazy and then acting like they are normal. These people organize harassment and what is scary how nice they can seem to you when they are talking to you straight up, and even this blog will be posted or they will try to attack me more and more and even hint they will want my personal journals. I feel Stern and his associates are behind that shit, but he is too irrelevant in the culture for people to care, but to me it is because he is powerful behind the scenes, and the roles they have behind the scenes have more responsibility than what they are doing for their job on the surface, but people never see that narrative. He can hold back from mentioning certain people he knows and do that because I have been suspecting an association taking place.

I would rather not be here but they keep me alive to mentally torture, while people who have no idea what is happening can just fucking point at me and laugh or just reaffirm that I am fucking crazy and how I live in my parents basement, so not only am I alive when I don’t want to be, they have me to just stand here looking like a fucking idiot complaining about how people are fucking with my life, so much so that I am distant from everyone in my life, because I don’t know what they want from me, or because I feel upset I missed out on so much and it never fucking stops bugging me, so I stay alone, and they know that I can either take this mentally and just live with it and if I dare react and try to do something they will fuck with me.

I cans see things being applied to what he does with other people’s videos and then I am supposed to suspect he does that with mine and now I know because these types of people have learned from Stern in the school of Cobra Kai, they have adopted specific crews to get their people to harass others and manipulate them for content. It is sick and these people lack morals and human decency but pretend they would never do that. It should be investigated but these people are protected by the elite type and can do whatever they want, as long as they put it under the guise of entertainment. It is so fucking sick but no matter how much I hope that something will come up in my favor, it will always be destined for this to continue, but I worry for others who have also been abused by this kind of system and can’t speak out because they are probably in worse condition than me. Some would argue I am in bad condition, so just imagine how much worse it is for other people who are being fucked with.

This is why I believe these situations with certain moguls and politicians who are caught with something is all planned out and when it is convenient they will start exposing others out of nowhere. Maybe something is coming close which is why they are working harder to fuck with my life and using people to harass me and trying to do horrible things to get me to react in such a way where it continues to make me a target. Again I don’t know anything with my theories officially. They continue to move my cursor and fuck with me, even when I am writing in my journal, which triggers everyone from that world, or even the ones in my world. I start remembering everything from the past and how I would get walked on all over, and it just becomes harder to hold back when it has all manifested into this big ball of anger.

I hope the good ones are reading this and will eventually step in but I am not holding my breathe because I am a piece of shit at the end of the day and as much as I try to speak out and using whatever voice I have to speak out for the marginalized, and since I have opened their narrative up by thinking that the right side can make you think the ones fighting for equality and rising up because of the oppression is the sensitive, and not so cool type of behavior because we have been taught to lack empathy towards others and always parrot the higher ups propaganda of justifying the authoritative types can continue to do what they do. It is one thing to disagree but they always have a plan to counter it so the ignorant side seems cooler and will always seem like the “I don’t give a fuck” in being racist, homophobic, misogynistic etc. I say this as someone who fell for this shit because I was dumb and went for whatever came easier, and I didn’t want to rattle the wrong cage.

[joshuazev]

On taxonomy: N-Z

Never has there been a time since I’ve been alive where racists have been this comfortable.  When I was growing up, the “n” word was taboo amongst white people.  You’d hear minorities and people from ethnic backgrounds using it freely, but a white person saying it just wasn’t a thing.  A lot of that was just me being naive.  The word, like all cancers, has a way of hanging around and coming back even stronger even when you think it might not be there anymore.  As I got older I started noticing white people saying it more frequently.  The way I was brought up and the way I trained myself growing up, the word made me cringe.  It was like a screech being set off inside my body or an alarm that was trying to break my ear drums every time I heard it mentioned.  And it was weird because I sometimes wondered whether my reaction to the word was stronger than when used in a black circle amongst each other.  I wondered if black men and women had been so desensitized to the word that it began to mean nothing.  This was of course in a circle with black men and black women.  If a white person directed it at a black person, there was maximum sensitivity.  That wasn’t just a fighting word if used in that way, that was a “you’re about to get fucked up” type word.  I always wondered how the word was passed down in white circles.  Or any circle for that matter, but especially white ones.  Did white people hear the word in music and figured it would be OK to use it, too?  Was it something their parents said, so they thought they would also be allowed to use it freely?      

Once Trump got elected, the world started to unhinge.  Every white person who knew who Trump was probably rejoiced at the amount of fuckery and tomfoolery that they could now get away with with him at the helm.  We can call women bitches now and grab their pussies?  We can call black people the “n” word and be called fine people?  I swear, I want to see the documentary that hasn’t been made yet (if it has I don’t know about it) about a kid being born to racist parents and watching the kid grow up to become a racist too or maybe not, who knows?  Seeing the age in which he or she starts to exhibit racist behavior and seeing if it’s just a matter of being a copycat or if the parents have a bigger role in the infection process.  Do racists act racist because they like the attention because to a non-racist it seems fundamentally and inherently wrong to believe some of the shit that racists do.  I can’t be the only one who wonders if Trump uses the “n” word when no one is watching.  I mean, that’s got to be a given at this point right?  And if he does then his sons probably use it pretty casually.  Do teachers in old school, dirty south areas drop it as freely?  

People at baseball games were using the “n” word this year.  Couldn’t have been the first time.  Adam Jones made sure to address it, but it unfortunately won’t be the last time you hear a fan use it at a sporting event.  The president of NASCAR said that if anyone kneeled or protested during the anthem, they would be fired—essentially reiterating the exact hope of what Trump had for the NFL.  I was going to be dismissive and say, “Who the fuck watches NASCAR anyway,” but that’s a Cardinal sin that I’ve been making too often lately.  I probably need to do more research, but NASCAR seems to be a southern and midwest type of vibe.  Not sure how much love it’s getting from the Northeast or Northwest, but maybe I’m wrong.  If that’s the case then I’m just highlighting the divide between the coasts and the midwest, the rural and the urban, etc.  I thought even basketball was immune to hearing that at games considering it’s a sport dominated by black people (the majority of the fans are white, though).  Years ago Marcus Smart pushed a fan who called him the “n” word.  The color commentary called Smart’s retaliation disgusting.  I don’t think anyone knows what the fuck is going on anymore.  Greg Popovic made a statement the other day that this country is an embarrassment to the world.  Think about that.  Not just to ourselves but the entire world.  We got half of the country acting like children, maturing at the rate that baby grass grows in Death Valley.  

Questions usually get answers unless your name is Donald J. Trump.  Trump would most certainly own slaves if slavery was a thing today.  If you want to make the argument that he’s still a slave owner, you probably could.  This is somebody that would probably welcome a civil war.  He’d probably have a ridiculous amount of protection and stay in one of his classic old white manors that used to be the house of slave owners hundreds of years ago.  Trump embodies all those sick fucking people we see in movies.  The Leonardo DiCaprio character of Django Unchained or the Michael Fassbender character of 12 Years a Slave.  I secretly am hoping Melania does it.  I don’t want to say stuff like that, but at the same time, think about how freely people were plotting against the Hitlers and the Mussolinis and the Francos and the Amins.  I don’t think it’s reached that level yet, but it doesn’t mean that discussion can’t be kept alive.  Melania…we’re counting on you.  Maybe Melania pulls the old switcheroo like the Marion Cotillard character in “The Dark Knight Rises.”  We’re over here thinking that Bane is the one, but really it’s her.  

Reason has gotten lost in the new world of No-rhyme.  There doesn’t seem to be much of a reason to do anything anymore, except fight.  Gotta keep on fighting.  The Republican Party reminds me of a being that has aphasia, which is the loss of ability to understand or express speech.  In other words, that party can find it’s equal in the form of John McCain’s brain, which might not even be the right example considering it’s still somewhat healthy.  But you know what I mean.  On it’s last legs.  Indecisive.  Preposterous.  Decaying.  Dying.  Suzan Lori Parks’ last four plays that I’ve seen include “Death of the Last Black Man”, “Venus”, “In The Blood”, and “Fucking A.”  All of them were written several years ago, I believe.  Some in the early 90’s, some in the late 90’s.  She focuses on issues that couldn’t be more relevant today.  The black man as an endangered species, a subject for exploitation, the dystopia that they experience within their communities, and abortion.  

So many fucked up things going on that it’s almost pointless to focus on the good.  That might be a pessimistic way to look at things, but think about it.  You go on with your day and you’re privileged and you’re experiencing the fruits of what the world has to offer, but your colleague doesn’t.  Your neighbors don’t.  The people in the community a few blocks over live in peril.  In fear.  I don’t have any problem reminding people that this is the most selfish era there has ever been.  Too many ways to escape from someone else’s suffering, if you ask me.    

The present isn’t much of a present at all, right now.  The “right now” is a gift bag full of coals.  A heavy time that’s hard to breathe and is doing all in its power to put us all to sleep.  Nowadays, what are we even in control of?  Think about how many other factors go into something like that.  You got the FBI, the CIA, the IRS keeping tabs on you at all times.  You got local law enforcement watching you like hawks and then you got the unseen forces that might be the most dangerous ones of them all.  The drones floating in the atmosphere that could kill you at any moment.  The satellites circling the world waiting to pounce on your every move and then the new age fuckboys, the “hacks”, who can and might already be stealing your information as we speak.  Who is really safe anymore?  There’s definitely a hierarchy in the grand scheme of things, but the fact is, if some Russians wanted to make Trump’s life miserable, they could do it.  I along with many others wonder why they don’t.

Up until maybe a month ago, I thought I could only go on tangents like these when I was super high, but apparently that’s not the case because I haven’t smoked in forever.  I sound like your every day conspiracy theorist right now.  Talking in circles, mentioning everybody, mentioning everything, and mentioning a whole lot of nothing as well.  In a world where stupid things are happening all the time and stupid words have the spotlight, it’s easy to feel like you’re becoming stupid, too.  Sap story vomit.  A whole bunch of blah blah blah mixed in with a bunch of journalism verbatim and gobbledygook.  

Very rarely have I felt so mentally active and so consequently dormant in my life.  It’s weird when not everything in your life is on the same page, when it’s not what you want, where you want to be.  I like to talk about the yelling exercise in acting class, but another one of my favorites is when we get to yell and punch the air.  You can beat the shit out of the air, but it’s so damn strong that you can never knock it out.  The harder you punch air, the more it knocks you out.  Sometimes it hits you out of nowhere and sometimes it gradually beats you up.  Who is happy anymore?  I want to know.  I want to go to that seminar.  The woman or man who is genuinely happy because when you start to feel low you start to hope that everyone else is low too and therefore, you don’t have to be alone anymore.  

What else can you do?  Who else can you trust?  Who can you turn to if you don’t want to bring anyone down with you?  Why do the same things happen over and over and over and over and over and over again to the point in which your head feels like the heaviest thing in your body and in your brain you’re holding your head in your hands.

Xanthum gum is safe when up to 15 grams per day are taken.  It can cause some side effects such as intestinal gabs (flatulence) and blasting.  

Your turn.

Zoo: a facility in which human beings are housed within enclosures, displayed to the once captive animals, and in which they may also breed.