#zealot fanatic

[theterrornaut]

FANATIC VAYRON! (For @sin-arts-0 )

[leftsharkhypocrite]

"That Melk.."

Feat. Vayron and Cobbler

Ss for context taken by @theterrornaut

Cameraman with animals @sin-arts-0

[pamaizai]

Born as a stupid idea, made into fanart.

Try guessing my favourite animal.

Adeptus [RATdacted]

Characters belong to:

Hairless psyker Cueball: @theterrornaut

Hooded fanatic Vayron: @sin-arts-0

Himalayan 2-point loner Vincent : @leftsharkhypocrite

[gravedirtandbriarthorns]

The Imperium of Man: Chaos is so potentially corrupting that even knowing about it is cause for summary execution. Troops commandeered to fight Chaos are executed at the end of whatever incursion simply because the risk is too great. The lone exception to these proscriptions are the Inquisitors, a group with effectively zero oversight whose authority is theoretically absolute and in practice limited only by what an individual Inquisitor is capable of getting away with.

Also the Imperium of Man: It sure is weird just how many members of the Inquisition end up falling to corruption at the hands of Chaos. Wonder what that's about?

[kantraels]

The Fanatic-Seer relationship is so important to me you’ve got two broken people handling their issues in two different ways with varying levels of success

[kazeofthemagun]

Continued from [ X ]

The blood (of the legacy editor) runs in the woods @thefatalmarksman​

"Wait. No, no - n-no..! Don't go! Please! Nonono -"

But the soldier's pleas did not fall on deaf ears. Even worse - they fell on indifferent ears. Oh yes, his plight was fully acknowledged; It was only help that was not coming.

What was worse? To die, unheard, or to have one's screams ignored by a stranger and one's death spectated like some common street show..?

How could this man... this man... engrave these images into his unblinking eyes and watch?

"Fuck..! Curse you! You monster! The Earl will - he will punish you..!"

Yes, the Earl would... the Earl never turned a blind eye. The God of Gaudium would smite all these wretched, monstrous nonbelievers to hell.

The wounded warrior attempted to rise only to fall short, a soundless laughter ringing in his ears. The woods were silent. The screams of agony had ceased, now. He was alone, and the trees were mocking him. Every windswept rustle of foliage sending shivers down his spine as scratched-up hands clawed the dirt in a futile attempt to escape. The trees howled in laughter, the sound almost forming words.

Where is your God now? Where, oh where could he be?

His one true God and his protection. He did not protect his comrades, now, did he?

Because the Hunter could hardly be evaded. Whether he crossed a God or a Devil, the Hunter did not care. Perhaps that was the reason even the Earl feared him.

After all, what was a God to a Godkiller?

The gait of the distant silhouette shifted, mechanical paws moving faster, strides lengthening until the beast's hind legs pushed off the ground, a monstrous form sailing through the air with the killer grace of a predator. And then he knew.

His god? Was only prey. And him - well, he was less than dirt.

A shrill wail pierced the eerie quiet, blood pouring onto the thirsty earth as razor-sharp claws and teeth tore at the Gaudian soldier's back. No, this death would not come quickly. The performance would drag on mercilessly. The jaws of the beast latched onto a feebly kicking leg to lift its prey up, then slam down with no remorse. Crack. And again. Crunch.

Crack.

Until it all fell silent.

The strange creature sank its maw into the mangled corpse, chewing slowly. Its tail swished back and forth behind it, leaving a ghastly trail. The wet tearing of flesh ceased after a short while, however; A darksteel head lifting to sniff at the air, suddenly so lifelike. Indeed - was this an animal, or a machine? Perhaps, something inbetween?

Or beyond either.

The moonlike glyph - a substitute for eyes..? - faced the tree where the gunslinger was hidden, an uncomfortable moment of simply staring.

And then, a rustle in the treeline.

Forth came a figure shrouded in pitch blackness, his features obscured. He walked without urgency, gaze sweeping the gory mess in front of him. And then, a single reflective eye found Xigbar - with ease ill befitting a human.

More silhouettes appeared out of the darkness, glows of vibrant violet and burning gold. There seemed to be at the very least three other beasts, one of them also bearing a curved sword in place of a tail. Where the first creature's was spectral blue, this one was a fiery orange.

"Death." The figure said with unbroken calmness, entirely unbothered by the carnage.

The beasts headed for the tree.

[subaquatic-skyscraper]

The amount of mental gymnastics people are doing to interpret any religious text to signify normal behaviors and human expression as sinful has me convinced there is an epidemic of mental delusion on this planet regarding anything that is unfamiliar / uncomfortable to them.

It doesn’t matter the religion, this is becoming more and more extreme globally. Humans are cognitively regressing.

[esonetwork]

Children Of The Corn 1984| Episode 432

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/children-of-the-corn-1984/

Children Of The Corn 1984| Episode 432

Children Of The Corn 1984| Episode 432

The Earth Station DCU Episode 389 – Beyond the Sea

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Doctor Who: The Krotons Review | Earth Station Who

Subspace Radio – Earth Station Trek – Episode 186

Mrs. Roper Returns to Dragon Con

So Long and Thanks For All The Fish: The Final Episode

The 42cast Episode 208: Powered by the Apocalypse

Looking Back at My Dragon Con 2024

CATCH UP ON OUR LATEST PODCASTS, REVIEWS, BLOGS & STUFF

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Remember any comment made today will be the tomorrow you worried about yesterday

[1929crash]

Anti-choice Mystical Suicide

Faith-based prohibitionist asset forfeiture & girl-bullying LOSES, 2008 (link) It’s no secret. Republicans were upset when Ayn Rand told the world that girl-bullying mystic Ronald Reagan was an enemy of freedom in that he wanted cops to bully women into reproducing. These same Republicans had been thrilled when Ayn Rand–royally ticked off at anarco-communist infiltrators like Murray Rothbard–had…

[leftsharkhypocrite]

So they added stimulants and

Serious question

But no

Really

Will I be possesed after this?

[kaiandtran]

Kai & Tran: Origins #17 - Dawn of Angie Noir

Dramatic dialogue and epic stunts make up for the wavering plot and one-dimensional characters. 3/5 would recommend.

[trans-lykanthropie]

Serious post time I'm afraid, if you're into art then please please please know that Giovanni Gasparro, who paints in an old masters like style with a focus of multiple pairs of hands (you may have seen some of his portraits), is a raging antisemite and fanatical catholic zealot. Please don't reblog or post any of his art, he is a vile human being

[lastflowerofyourhouse]

she was a devout nun she fully believed that Some Guy™️ was god she killed herself to bolster someone else's power not once but twice we know like 5 things about her and all of them are fucked up insane she was a delight she was effervescent she was kind to animals and children she probably initiated a suicide pact which she then carried out she didn't mind being trepanned on the regular she was god's favorite sacraficial lamb she had strange and unnerving eyes and a strange and unnerving worldview she probably invented soul siphoning she was seemingly incapable of separating love from fanatical devotion she's haunting the narrative she was a zealot she was an idolator and a heretic she was the first one to figure out what needed to be done and the only one with the balls to do it and she didn't have the intellect you'd ordinarily find in a sandwich or an orange. i didn't say her name but she popped into your head didn't she.

[kantraels]

ritekal coded

unlike the fan favorite "not to me, not if it's you" this is more confident, it's blunter, the emotion is drawn back from passionate entreaty to calm statement of fact. in the same way, rite and kal grow to lean on each other more than either would care to admit. it's a reflection of their roles on the strike team, honestly; rite is a steady bastion, precise and anchored. kal is a rover, always circling and always in the fray, on the alert for anything that might slip through rite's defenses. kal makes fun of rite for not watching his flank, but he doesn't need to. rite chides kal for overextending and getting swarmed, but he's still right there to lock down a horde and let kal get his feet back under him.

and then rite is there at the end of missions too, when kal is falling asleep on the storm raptor and can't walk straight or is injured in fifty different places. and though kal may not be as gentle about it, or as kind, he's there too.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Durge's contempt for Ketheric amuses me. For some reason I interpreted it as a sort of disgust; like my take on Durge is that they were a religious fanatic who very much existed only to serve their god. They are aware that they are a tool and extension of Bhaal, not a real person. It was a one-sided relationship where Durge gives, and if they do well Bhaal... "rewards" them with a state of ecstasy. Durge is a self-described "good child" who gives and gives and gives, desperately seeking Bhaal's love, to make him proud of them. I doubt they thought they were entitled to it, however.

Ketheric is sick of the gods and very much into religion at this point on the basis of "what this god can do for me". Selûne didn't give him what he wanted in his grief, so he betrayed her for Shar. Shar, true to her nature, didn't give him what he wanted and he went to Myrkul. He serves Myrkul because the Lord of Bones does what he wants - even though what he wants is blasphemy in the eyes of the Myrkulite faith (I dread to think what Myrkul's angle was, here, but I doubt it would've gone well for Ketheric in the end).

Ketheric is a False soul, abandoning one faith after another, and for a heavily conditioned zealot like Durge, I feel like that'd be a revolting concept.

And I think in turn, Ketheric kind of viewed them with his own brand of contempt (and maybe some pity): this brainwashed godchild, with their personhood hollowed out, clinging to their master, desperate for love that master fundamentally cannot give them.

[mariacallous]

Salman Rushdie has just published Knife: Meditations After an Attempted Murder. In August 2022, he was giving a talk at the Chautauqua Institution in New York. Hadi Matar, a 24-year-old from New Jersey, rushed the stage and stabbed him 15 times. It was astonishing that Salman survived. He lost the sight in one eye and sustained terrible injuries, but he’s still with us and he’s still writing, and unlike Hadi Matar, he’s still worth hearing.

We think of fanatics as stalkers with an obsessive knowledge of their targets.  Like the antisemites who compile lists of Jews in the media or the homophobes who so focus on the details of gay sex they might almost be closet cases

Most terrorists and bigots are not like that. They are like soldiers in an army who kill and hate for no other reason than tradition or men in authority have told them to kill and hate. If we were less fascinated by the pseudo-glamour of violence, we would see them for what they are: dullards and jerks.

In Knife Salman is almost as angered by the sheer lazy stupidity of his wannabee assassin as his violence.

“I do not want to use his name in this account. My Assailant, my would-be Assassin, the Asinine man who made Assumptions about me, and with whom I had a near-lethal Assignation … I have found myself thinking of him, perhaps forgivably, as an Ass.”

The ass “didn’t bother to inform himself about the man he decided to kill. By his own admission he read barely two pages of my writing and watched a couple of YouTube videos”.

That was enough, apparently, along with a little light indoctrination in the Levant.

We know from Matar’s mother that her son changed from a popular young man to a moody religious zealot after visiting her ex-husband in the Hezbollah-controlled town of Yaroun in Lebanon, a mile or so from the Israeli border.

“I was expecting him to come back motivated, to complete school, to get his degree and a job. But instead, he locked himself in the basement. He had changed a lot. He didn't say anything to me or his sisters for months.”

Salman quotes a wonderfully perceptive line from Jodi Picoult

“If you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.”

Rushdie is openly contemptuous, as he has every right to be.

“I see you now at twenty-four,” he writes, “already disappointed by life, disappointed in your mother, your sisters, your father, your lack of boxing talent, your lack of any talent at all; disappointed in the bleak future you saw stretching ahead of you, for which you refused to blame yourself.”

This has always been the way. Readers old enough to remember 1989 when the Ayatollah Khomeini ordered Salman’s execution for writing a blasphemous satire of Islam’s origin story in the Satanic Verses,will know that Khomeini had not read it. Nor had the furious demonstrators in the streets or the regressive leftists and Tory ministers who upbraided him for the non-crime of causing offence.

Those of us who had read the book pointed out that it was a magical realist fiction which contained sympathetic accounts of the racism Muslim immigrants in the UK suffered. Indeed, the Tories of the day loathed Salman, we continued, because of his confrontations with official racism.

But after a while we fell silent. Pleading with his enemies felt demeaning. It gave them undeserved credit, as if they were reasonable people, who could be swayed by evidence rather than just, well, pillocks.

In Knife Salman attempts an imaginary conversation with his persecutor.

OK, he says, Islam, unlike Judaism and Christianity, holds that man is not made in God’s image. God has no human qualities, it says.

But isn’t language a human quality? To have language, God would have to have a mouth, a tongue, vocal cords and a voice, just like a man. The terrorist’s understanding is that God cannot be like a man, however. So, God could not have spoken to Gabriel in Arabic. Gabriel must have translated his message when he came to the prophet.

The angel made it comprehensible to Muhammed by delivering it in human speech which is not the speech of God.

Thus, the version of Islamic instruction Matar received in his basement when he switched from playing video games to listening to Imams was an interpretation of a translation.

“I’m trying to suggest to you that, even according to your own tradition, there is uncertainty. Some of your own early philosophers have suggested this. They say everything can be interpreted, even the Book. It can be interpreted according to the times in which the interpreter lives. Literalism is a mistake.”

For a while, Rushdie says he wants to meet Matar again at the trial, as if he wants to have the argument in the flesh.

He tells a story about Samuel Beckett, which could only have happened to Samuel Beckett.

Beckett was walking through Paris in 1938 when he was confronted by a pimp named Prudent, who wanted money from him. Beckett pushed Prudent away, whereupon the pimp pulled out a knife and stabbed him in the chest, narrowly missing the left lung and the heart.

Beckett was taken to the nearest hospital, bleeding heavily. He only just survived.

You will never guess who paid for his treatment. James Joyce, of course, he did.

Anyway, Beckett went to the pimp’s trial. He met Prudent in the courtroom, and asked him why he had done it. This was the pimp’s reply: “Je ne sais pas, monsieur. Je m’excuse.” (I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry.)

But the more he thought about it, the less Rushdie had to say to his enemy. The idea that you can have theological arguments with a man who wants to kill you for writing a book he hasn’t even read felt ridiculous.

Although popular culture is full of stories about murderers, and true crime podcasts top the charts, killers and fanatics are nearly always less interesting than their victims. More often than not they are just thick. Nasty and vicious, but thick first of all.

We are about to see the stupidity of fanatics deployed on a mass scale. Two thirds of Republican voters (and nearly 3 in 10 Americans) continue to believe that the 2020 election was stolen from Donald Trump, and that Joe Biden was not lawfully elected. They think it because that is what Trump told them to think.

Islamists told Matar that Salman was an apostate, and that was all he needed to know. Trump told Republicans the election was stolen and ditto.

If Republicans were consistent people, they would not vote for Trump in 2024. What would be the point? They would have every reason to fear that the deep state would rig the 2024 presidential election as it rigged the 2020 presidential election.

But they will vote for him because, once again, that is what he tells them to do.

In the end there is a limit to how much attention you can pay the vicious and the stupid.

They are not interesting enough, as Rushdie concluded with marvellous disdain as he contemplated the life sentence Matar will face.

"Here we stand: the man who failed to kill an unarmed seventy-five-year-old writer, and the now 76-year-old writer. Somewhat to my surprise, I find I have very little to say to you. Our lives touched each other for an instant and then separated. Mine has improved since that day, while yours has deteriorated. You made a bad gamble and lost. I was the one with the luck… Perhaps, in the incarcerated decades that stretch out before you, you will learn introspection, and come to understand that you did something wrong. But you know what? I don’t care. This, I think, is what I have come to this courtroom to say to you. I don’t care about you, or the ideology that you claim to represent, and which you represent so poorly. I have my life, and my work, and there are people who love me. I care about those things.”