Archive for ‘Your Life Is Miserable’
2 items.
IS ARCHIVE
Due to an unforseen incident involving a number of FFA (Federal Floatship Administration) and PGDB (Provisional Government Duties Board) craft flying in close proximity to the Sturmkrieg, Captain Cussy Pants, Esq. has been unable to actively update his logs for a time. What follows is a backdated attempt at a return to normality.
Women! What the fuck? Am I right? They’re all, holy shit I care about things and can you buy me a drink and I totally have a vagina and are you sure you know where the clitoris is and let’s go out for dinner you buy and I seriously think you should consider my boobs before you decide whether or not to ask me out am I right? Am I fucking right? Men in the place! How seriously common is this shit? You know I’m right, don’t you?
Well fuck you. Fuck you and your dipshit gendre roles for life and living. Fuck you and everything you fucking stand for. Fuck your dumbass fringe as well. You don’t know fucking shit about anything. Women aren’t that fucking different, you dumbass cocksucking bitch-cock. You’ve just been looking at it wrong.
Holy shit, a woman shot me down when I asked to buy her a drink = FANNY.
Oh no why, I bought her a necklace and now she won’t answer my calls = SHIT FLAP.
Seriously, I can mortgage my car and still pay for expensive breakfasts when she won’t sleep with me = SPUNK JOCKEY.
Women are not that different. They want a shit tonne of dick just like you want a shit tonne of cock. They just don’t go around screaming about it most of the time. They like to sit back and consider the shit before they get the fuck involved.
Here’s a huge fucking myth: females do the selection in human society.
Huge fucking fact: It’s not the truths lezzers! Wake up and smell the tea. It’s not the women doing the choosing. It’s the men doing the choice to be chosen. And if you don’t get me, get to get me. You get me? I don’t think you do.
That’s all for now, shit bandits. Try not to fuck your lives up in the interim. I’ve got business; I’ve got a fucking anteroom full of government inspectors. I’ve also got left arm loaded with contact energy rounds. Wish me luck, lezzers. I haven’t got the money otherwise.
Love,
Captain Cussy Pants.
IS ARCHIVE
How many of you own or drive a car? So how many of you know how to change a tire? How about the oil? Windscreen fluid? Radiator? Not so many hands up now, huh?
So why don’t so many people know how to do these things? Why don’t YOU? Chances are, you either thought, “because I don’t care,” or, more likely, “because I get somebody to do it for me.” It costs a bit of money, but you can go to a fancy service station and get your fluids topped, oil changed, and your engine flushed and a hundred other things you don’t know how to do or even understand. Why do you do this? Maybe you read Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance and felt it contained a life lesson. Probably you don’t feel like you should have to know how to do this shit.
Here’s something else. There’s a common misperception among people today that humans are a terminal point in evolution. This idea holds that humans have stopped evolving, being perfectly adapted for the habitat they’ve created for themselves. Others believe that humanity’s next evolutionary step is into robotics and artificial intelligence and downloading personalities and belfhekhgfkdljd. Of course, these ideas are both bullshit.
Which brings me back to your choice to take your car to a guy for maintenance. You make this choice because you don’t know how to yourself. You never bothered to learn because it didn’t seem important. There were more important things to learn – like law school, or computer science, or how to be REALLY good at compiling porn links on your blog. You’re good at your own things. You’re specialised. Welcome to a shit life.
Humans aren’t favouring mutations with dealy bops or extra toes. They’re favouring those who succeed at specialisation. With each generation, social and technological progress pushes us further and further in the direction of an ant colony. In said colonies, each individual fulfills a specific role. Among driver ants, there are three distinct worker classes, each with physiological adaptations to support the responsibilities within the class. Humans aren’t born blind if their role in society doesn’t require sight, or otherwise mutate to succeed in their job, but they instead get help from technology. With the advent and ubiquity of mobile phones, wireless networking, bluetooth, GSP, and internet connectivity, communication between individuals is wider and more instantaneous than ants could ever hope to achieve.
Sounds pretty great, right? You only have to be good at one difficult thing, and everybody else will pick up the slack. Woo specialised society! Life is so fucking hilarious and sexy all the time!
…Except when something goes wrong. The machine with the fewest moving parts is the least likely to break, and modern first world society is a machine with a shit tonne of parts. We combat this weakness by building in redundancy. Aeroplane manufacturers do the same thing, but then, it’s not like an aeroplane component has ever failed. The probabilities of that happening are insanely miniscule.
The things you give up when you let yourself be a part of this kind of system aren’t immediately obvious, especially to someone living inside of it, but they’re big. The foremost is adaptability. That might stick out in reference to what I said about evolution above. Another, more obvious, loss is self sufficiency, and, as a side note, the satisfaction it proivdes.
Everybody I meet these days seems frustrated at a lack of control over one’s own circumstances. It never occurs to anybody you can take that control for yourself. But it’s not easy. It’s hard work. Maybe that’s where the problem lies – maybe it’s just easier to get somebody else to take your control for you.
Personally, I think I’ll keep up the autodidactism.