6CH - Shehsu-per

2018-12-1415 > 6CH - Shehsu-per





Random titles from, http://www.ruggenberg.nl/titels.html, story from mjbanks.






1) Burning Servant, 2) Broken Lord, 3) Woman of End, 4) Secret's Snow, 5) Stream of the Flames, 6) Thief in the Boyfriend






6CH / The Sixer's Role





1) Burning Servant: the grass grows into hay across a flat land toward a mountain, dark and looming with the savanna flat and the rocky horizon far, trailing itself toward the edge of the world where the light dimly reaches dusk and narrow field, to the other side the mountain climbs into the angry rains, he carries a torch and lights himself afire, only to begin fighting the demons of rocks and the rivers.





2) Broken Lord: he walks into the valley midday darkened cloud cover, to the fort of a warlock covered in sacks and leaves, a torch begins to burn as his master puts cold air and quells it, his eyes make dark, he falls burdened in cascade of memory and prays against the warlock, he is shackled by his witches who paint numbers on him in blood, in darkness as the warlock dances in blood and drinks the witches.





3) Woman of End: he hunts his method of escape during a hunt of the next bounty, and finds a man blocking his path, with fire he attacks, but the man in his path is immune to most of it, some dancing of evasion, planning to outsmart the walker in this way, he breaks a branch to beat him, but he is mostly impolite and seems to have a purpose for stopping the warlock's fiery servant, if not but indirectly, and with fire is fury and reaches into stone pulling a molten rock, but he is dodgy, the hexed servant is ire and fire, and with the stick the man bats his feet, in wrath he throws mud at his eyes, but the water in the muck evaporates and dust drifts, the fire-servant is stunted by thought-itself, and makes a grip of his blade, and jumps at the man's heart, but is blown from balance, on the ground in the earth's dust and fire's ashes and obsidian's gravel and time's wind he hold the blade again, but asks the man to save him and cuts at himself, only to have his fire melt and burn the metal blade, he can't save him, but might know someone who also might, a fairy of the trees.





4) The Secret's Snow: she knows they’ve come and has her trees bind the wizard, who escapes as fast as can be entangled, as she touches the warrior’s temple with a cold of time, his fire stops, his last breath fogs into the air as he collapses, as the wizard watches she holds her hand toward him, a cold fills the air, he begins to move back as he feels his bones grow cold, she invites the wizard to save him, she makes him cold, and thaws his chest, as the fire begins to grow brightl from his chest plate the wizard must remove the black flame from the warrior’s eyes, she must thaw him quickly with the wizard’s help and new black fire magic, the warrior wakes with amnesia, where the wizard learns he can unnaturally prevent the warrior from warring, and puts him to sleep with new magic and confusion,





5) Stream of the Flames: they explain what happened, and the warrior sees he has fire powers, as before being cursed, and the wizard shows the black flame, and the fairy shows the cold crystals, but the warrior disinterested runs returning home, the wizard follows him, easily by the trail of fires, and when distant by the smoke, bodies of demons in every other camp, until he finds a river of fire leading to the warlock’s fort, the rain falling, and from the distance in the fairy’s forest the rain is snow.





6) Thief in the Bow: The fire-warrior is hate filled but outnumbered so creates chaos in all things, distant distraction, close confusion, timed-attack, and has to fight the black-ice witches, one falls, one wounds him, one confines him, the warlock begins a rant of condescension, when the wizard approaches the warlock announces the wizard is a sixer, nearly immune to the five elements, and that he must be shot with poison arrows and torn apart, the warlock begins opening the warrior and blowing the black smoke of the blackfire torch into the warrior sans haste, snow falls on the roof, the fairy kills the witches, the sixer kills the henchmen, the warrior pleads with the warlock, the warlock insults the warrior, the warrior kills the warlock by driving the torch into the warlock’s heart, his eyes melt, the wizard takes the torch, the warrior is alive.





The ice-fairy meets the wizard and they discuss the warlock’s demise, the warrior is surprised that they knew each other the whole time, the warrior burns the warlock’s body in his hands, until only ash, troubling and falling thru fingers, finished, intangible, he feels incomplete.





Evil twist 1) the ice-fairy knew the warlock, that he had been corrupted by the fire, but the wizard keeps the torch, the wizard and the fairy fight, the warrior is compelled to fight the fairy, but finds strength in his thoughts, the warrior finds a poison arrow and shoots the bad wizard, he escapes, but not far, and dies in a field of burning black fire





Evil twist 2) the ice-fairy takes the torch, and makes the warrior attack the good wizard, but the wizard still controls the warrior’s burning thoughts, and makes the warrior fall asleep, crashing into a table of glass cups and copper pots, the wizard and the bad-fairy fight, the warrior wakes from the raging-cold as the fairy fights-off the dark-fire, the poison arrow in her heart, but she freezes her heart, so they fight her with swords pushing her into the burning river





Evil twist 3) the warrior tries to destroy the black-fire torch, but the power consumes him, he becomes pure dark-fire, it is with complete magic that the wizard and the fairy fight the bad-warrior, the sixer puts the torch handle into the bad-warrior’s chest, the ice-fairy freezes it in place, the wizard holds him over the smoke of the torch, the soot of burning obsidian is too much for the bad-warrior and he, suffocates on black diamonds, blinded by ash and turns to coal and black sand, consumed by the dark fires of death.





Merry Christmas






















mjbanks

Hal1owe3n

13 stars burned the desert until the sand was glass, 13 storms gathered over the forgotten planet for 13 days and washed the sacred homes of 13 kings from the mountains of paradise, and gathered into 13 rivers delivering the innocent to 13 swamps where darkness and moss grew in the night, 13 seasons passed the murky wasteland filled with the bones until 13 witches entered the swamp and made an alter for the gods of wind and blood, 13 candles burned as the wind god drifted into ceremony took from them 13 eyes as they tried to flee, from the blind he took their heads and poured blood into a pool where the blood god crawled from the red dirt and they worked to dastardly control 13 realms, from 13 meteors falling into the night side of the world 13 warriors would forge the 13 blades of vengeance, but cursed 13 times they carved 13 empires that went to war, 13 generations fighting for 13 venerations until the seas became low and the sun was distant, and with 13 bones the 13th descendants as the new 13 witches of hex and mordancy fastened bone crest handles to control the 13 star metal blades, until from hell rose many hellions and 13 demons took the blades and new names, the 13 knights of terror and their enjoyment of the insane took 13 of the maddest witches and made them queens against the sane, with the cursed wicked demons holding the world hostage they changed the day to 13 hours and had sacrifices each the same, offering 13 blades to exit with each dull against the skin, the 13th offering turned against one and survived and then the others ending the 13 reigns, and at the cross of 13 roads of as many realms found a mirror at the 13th dawn, time froze and his reflection gave him 13 heartbeats to live, but he killed his reflection and leapt into the mirror, in the reflection of 13 worlds light was dark was light and his body staying in the real world spoke to him 13 words telling him he is a reflection without equal and a vampire in the 13 shadow empires to live thru blood unless he has a 13th heartbeat or someone from the 13 shadows freezes time, where his skin will turn to fire dying as the 13th sign.

'Imje' beyngqS
 

The Tide

"One need not be a chamber to be haunted." Emily Dickenson

There wasn't enuf time for darkness and so the universe began. There could be enuf time for the absence, it only grows where we let it.

There's a website, with a population, and its netizens are many, more than countries or borders, where their minds take them their society follows into the lights and darks.

It was an island, part of the world, and not  part of the world, and there would be many, where so many new others the island was small, and was the continent, and was the planet.

The shoulders were bruised, in places, and where a warrior has decided to protect life, chaos saddens, the warriors keep them busy, our temple universe forever un known to keep us busy, the stars journey outward, and we cannot know what secrets are truths of discovery.

The light of time, seeks another darkness, which is named and advanced, pieces of a greater evolution, and is not the frame work, as the storms throw vessels, the universe turns slower, the ships sail faster, so too the mind.

I find arguing with anyone other than myself is a waste of time. Find the entity, reveal the mystery, keep its secrets from conquered fearful worlds, all of space preparing for dark matter by condensing into a primordial matter, shining example at the moment of energy, as the first moment in the void.

Waves, worlds, galaxies, universes, in war with time itself.

/mjbanks

Klinzhai

This is written for what it is. 

The terrans became humanoid from their ancients, agrarian and warlike, but on a planet very distant in terms of steps lived another ancestry of a species, one nomadic and farmlike. The terrans would find their way into trees. 

On this planet, they would preserve and recreate the best trees, conflicts and war over the best of the trees, for the strongest wood made the best weapons. They would find spirituality in war alone and make artistry of their trivial tasks, just as many other worlds do if they are wise. From weapons they would come to fashionable armor, in stern disciplines ingrained into their society by their very behavior, the weak would seek an armor of duty, societal works, but their fiercest warriors wore armor only to provoke combat, challenging to break each other's armor was a subtle interaction, for they are a brooding brutish species by our very human standards. They worshiped old gods and old rites and traditions, believing in the fracture of diamonds the divine pattern in their long-lost religion. The way waves break rocks into sand, the fracture of glass was recreated as a symbol, with three knives and made their numbers divide by three, and made their compasses point in three directions. Some might ye know of whom I speak. 

The first blade the mind's eye, its sharpness cannot be dulled when honed properly. The second your dominant eye, it plows into the land strong to plant the roots of what will make great weapons. The third your submissive eye, seeing matters of the heart perhaps more clearly than the other two it is a sharpened talon that does not release living prey. 

There, began a civil war, on the first day they feasted for war, on the second day they warred, on the third day they were already in a stalemate, unable to beat the other. There was among them, on one side, a great leader, as the greatest warriors often are, he had drank so much on the first day he slept thru the second and readied for battle on the third. He began by learning from the battlefield, which he bravely ran toward, and he became silent like a spy made of wind. He could see the two sides intertwined into the future and tangled in the present, so he decided to send spies as spies, spies as scouts, and spies as messengers, feeling honorably having their lucky three-fold ideology a part of the strategy, but told them they could only travel with one weapon and had to pretend to be peasant herders, looking to join the battle for fortune. He would end the civil war after the weak had died, but before their society couldn't blindly recover as if it had been a practice war, for they are very warlike. 

The gods were not pleased and devoured most of the spies. Next lowing a sky of brightness on the emissaries blinding them, they could not defend themselves and were not received with welcome as they wandered forward. Last they used this light to lure the scouts in the grassland to wander into the night thinking it was day, in the darkness disguised as light the gods cursed them with their old dishonorable magic, when the scouts awoke it was night, in confusion they slept and awoke on the fourth day. When they returned to tell their leader what the gods had done, the scouts began to speak incorrectly, first pronunciation in error, then the tails of words in error, then entire words incorrect, then their entire language incorrect. They could not tell their leader what the gods had done and could not even understand each other, one of them earned a great honor in wise decision, and drew the words in shortest form, "gods defy us," before then even his writing became meaningless. They forgot how to live and died from that strange combat.  

The wise leader decided to race toward the enemy of the civil war, where he found great enemies who died with honor, who were also deceived, for they were warned by the trickster gods that the wisest old warrior was approaching, and had twisted their minds as had done to the fallen ones to spread lies that the wise one and his men were the twisted gods - so the wise one did what anyone would have done - without warning killed all of his spies wearing the symbol of his house, his men fought with the song of their victory over gods themselves in their hearts and it gave them strength that lack of vision would not afford. 

It was the wise leader himself who stabbed one of the old gods, he immediately became a volcano beneath skin a tornado in voice and a mountain of strength in bones, in fiery fierce rage form not fading the trickster god began fighting both sides. the battle spread to every warrior standing, woman and man, they would find many gods hidden among them that day, too stupid to escape the soldiers and warriors before this instant war, hiding their wounds like cowards however they did actually fight the aliens, but retreated when losing, leaping high into the air and climbing into clouds. 

As the aliens shouted victory it was only moments before the gods returned with their soldiers, with their numbers doubled, with the armor of moons and meteors, of metals rare and replete blades of perfection, and began thinning the warrior race, faced with extinction the warrior race began surviving, fighting, winning against the malicious gods, but not before the wise old leader died at the hands of the god he had just exposed. The gods rallied to fetch the god that killed the leader of the resistance, but decided to take the leader's body. 

This was to demoralize the aliens, for they are so aggressive that war is sacred, thus a warrior is due sacred burial, and their are many reasons why and how, but they couldn't allow it. the exposed god took the body and they killed the petty god, so the other gods sounded battle horns and rallied for a last siege to retrieve the alien hero, but the aliens feared for their ways so much they screamed to the heavens with the rage of the fallen, the foolish gods died of fear, and the weak gods escaped, some unable to find clouds in daylight fled to the stars only to be killed by the dark ships of space, then falling on fire. 

Their war against the gods had begun. 

Heghlu'DI' mobbe'lu'chugh QaQqu' Hegh wanI' 

/

3 Darknesses.

1/ Having the troubles of a dreamer, I was being taken on a journey within my mind to the center of light, but I had never been more confused to be at the start and on my journey, aware of sleep, beneath thought, in a dream, I was travelling faster than light toward the center of our galaxy, when so much began. 

2/ After the sight of light that human eyes cannot absorb, all energies separate into singularities and particles, the universe becomes a constant, the path of each entity designed to become a living moment, only to send time into every point of the void, all the dreams the source of fate, and I cannot remember what it was. 

3/ I turned off the light, and began to meditate, opening my eyes I looked for familiar things, what I struggled to see were things I could forget and get my needed sleep, as I realized in darkness I didn't need to close my eyes anymore than open them, everything would be were it is if I cannot see everything, so too must I not struggle to find reason in everything, if it is there in the light, waiting in the dark where creatures sleep. There will be things that I could reach, which will still be there when the insomnia is rested. 

/

Cyberphagia

site (timer.show.ad)
searchbox
popup
search
results
link-target
popup
link-host (site 2)
scroll
popup
scroll
download-button
popup
new page
scroll
download-button
popup
countdown-timer
"I'm not a robot"
download-button
popup
url-service (site 3)
scroll
"I'm not a robot"
download-page
scroll
get-download-apk
>if apk present (get-download-null)
>else if apk not present (get-download-apk)
>else download-apk fail-corrupted (restart stage 3)
get-download-button
download begins
download completes

system()
open recognized extension
upload to cloud
close extension(application)

manual()
locate file (local)
upload (cloud)
delete (local)
locate file (cloud)
read (retrieve (file (cloud)))

analog(main)
digital(system)




/

Ironoclasts

//* I was up losing the invasion of Insomnia this morning and was in a rush to write this before crashing and forgetting. This means it's not what I want it to be, but rationally and justified it fits the narrative. My narrative. Too long has (!).....reading this over it looks like either a movie review of humanity or vice versa. If you're going to define the terms of reality, you'll have to hold onto something. *//

Que Se Rá Ra Sis Boom Bah

Is it politically correct to say what is politically correct?

I still remember all the people who taught me nothing.  

Region C: //* Communism? *//
Is: Rigid, orderly, and fashionable. The byproduct of resources in the absence of identity. The hoolahoop was trendy, as so is its adherents forcing authoritarianism because their neighbors are.
Isn't: Creative. I can make 10 trillion monkeys write a polymorphic screenplay, but it's fate is contingent on sicophants without a desire to read and trained to scour variables for anomalies, not for heroes.
Feedback: It's few limitations are easily counted, but are big enuf to let the wrath of god line up the asteroid

Region B: //* Socialism? *//
Is: Quite self absorbed, easily persuaded to share opinions and guarded for consistency in hope of a controlling power. Oddly they uses antonyms for their struggles, then forget them only to attack the nearest anything, and any strays get sometimes worse.
Isn't: Ready for anything and redefines any question until chaos defines the context or violence as a subtext.
Feedback: they could use behavioral health, focus, etc, like talking to a bear who thinks you're a beehive.

Region A: //* Capitalism? *//
Is: nonspecific and vague enuf to accidentally trigger A or B, creativity at times to a fault and with a general sense of morality defends each point of creativity not seeing the irony in multiple fronts, incompleted projects, and antagonizing their food.
Isn't: good at moderation, if you wake them up itd better not be to pick a fight.
Feedback: maybe train more people to put out fires amd it wouldnt seem like too many.

Your turn.

Plot device is:
Isn't:
Feedback: Is that an asteroid?

//* this next is clearly a leading-question, you see these a lot on lawyer shows and when drunk people talk, leading the witness is changing the subject to redefine a story or for emotional and drunk people it's just a way to get where theyre going by stumbling forward and crossing their fingers...while the rest of us watch in awe. I write in threes or fives en motíf, then commas, then edits. Anyway. *//

Could this economy be doing so good if it wasn't down? He had the success rate of Cuba and the charm of the ayatollahs and youre still rolling out the invisible carpet for the cult awards.

//* I'm putting this into my other work-in-progress and it's fair to put it here. I've been alive long enuf to know a few ideas can be ruined by over analyzing good advice and then giving bad advice. I've seen it all. *//

Guilt by association, we finish our homework and turn off the screen, and we associate ending homework w reward, and so we shut out responsibility too. Where a to b we jump ahead. You can't skip steps without tripping over yourself. There is no easy answer, so instead of doing the hardest thing and saving the world from Interdimensional invaders with 10 eyes, pay attention, focus, do the homework and you'll be avg, do everything and be great, go beyond and empower, do the homework and then you're done, and the training associates itself, you did homework and then success becomes starting homework and finishing homework, sick of not being prepared, time to study, never letting someone else write your life, when the news tells you to stop or quit, your mind closes the book of your life, it is time to experience, and falling is just a step, we need to draw from memories of homework, learning is life, success is acting without processing thoughts, instinct developed by reading and training of course, from this there is no info that'll change your music or the way you breathe freedom. From this your freedom, finish your homework.

//* I was going to swipe the last part, but android-blogger saves local, m.j.banks. *//
....

The Huxley-Orwell Principle

mjbanks #NMS 

"The most valuable of all education is the ability to make yourself do the thing you have to do, when it has to be done, whether you like it or not." Aldous Huxley

(edit 1)

Title (name, date, etc).

Have you heard this? I heard a lunatic talk about this conspiracy of aliens, the kind from other planets.

Outline (research, not for opinions or essays)
> Abstract, what?
> Main: How much do you like extraterrestrials? on a scale of 1-4. One being for, for being one.

Abstract. (summary, but no f! spoilers) 

To ask the student how they feel about these on a scale of one to four, based on their answers post the candidate in one of the two worlds, I must travel to Kronos for urgent business regarding the upcoming laser pizza pet toss.

Main. (in an essay, system problems shared by topic by paragraphs, in research paper, a single issue using paragraphs to present situation, results, approaches and failures chopped into paragraphs, solution if your teacher is bias, or solution and opinion if you know what that bias is, in a blog post, chaotic disorder confusing to the native speaker, shuffled by a text scrambler program written by someone of a second language, and comical and topical to distract the reader from dying of boredom, which this entry doesn't.) (/edit 1.) 

It was a determination of many cultures to not play a significant part in the prosperity of the new world, they each maintain colonies, but are comprised as oppositely governed legal systems. In the old worlds, each liberty was expressly denied unless permitted by a royal leader, in this method the monarch can object and nullify anything at any time, this standard is called feudal society, from the word feud, to fight, with each member trading in the currency of power or rank, even if no monarchistic regent is in place. It is not in any circumstance completely uncommon for the people of the old world to commit treason or murder for their own career advancement. In their society of indomitable guilt before birthright innocence (in philosophy a freedom known as liberalism) they practice outlawing everything and then permitting actions a human would normally act in free willpower, which leads to layers of bribery without quality, licensing without standard, and service without honor. Their art is uncreative and their society races without a destination.

In the new world, there is a need to limit oppression in its actuality, not its perception, where laws of morality are enforced as a reaction, trusting in the culture of its people to do good things, and innocence is defended as the natural state of humanity, guilt must be proven not suspected and mockery of justice is called corruption. The old worlds and new worlds are linked, much by humanity's basic needs as much as by its oppressors. Where old world logic dictates that discovery is offensive to those who cannot exploit it despite newly being available, the new world allows the embracing of morality as a necessity so that solutions benefit everyone. Of this there is of course a new art of hypocrisy painted by politicians and people clinging to the old world like it's ever going anywhere.

It was brought to my attention that we're still discussing the medical industry as it applies to people who haven't solved dying, you may think I'm not being very serious with this entry, but it's true, people have never been immortal and somehow this is still an unsolved mystery. In the old world, many thought nothing of having universal medicine, and then one day they realized how unfair mortality is, and they decided to make medicine finally legal for everyone - when in the new world, medicine is also legal. Before permission, everyone could find a doctor if there were no old world bigotry, and I'm not making any promises because they are obsessed with grouping people into equality tiers (castes) and victim bragging (intersectionalism).

I call this the innocence of hypotheticals, I can be persecuted for being a nerf herder from another dimension, if nerfs were real, if inter-dimensional travel were doable.

In the new world, you can go to a restaurant, offer the waiter or waitress - because you wait and then you get food i'm not saying server unless you require it -  a gratuity payment (tip), and there doesn't have to be a law to allow a free society to visit it. If you want to talk about money that's the short end of the story in the next paragraph. It was the same with hospitals in the world they had created. Learning how to pay for services becomes a matter of making everyone wealthier. The society of the new world embraces wealth, before politicians show their beady eyes, when wealth is embraced even wasted in medicine is prevented, but there are those that feel the monarchy should pay for services, without quality assurance of the new world and as equally important including the proficiency standards that old world dictators demand when that goal is out of reach by their own fault. Imagine if you could afford your bills, but didn't have any bills, that's capitalism's scope, but the power of the worker so widely attested, doesn't have it in its sights in the old world.

So what is money. It's a promise of value. In cryptocurrency, it's balanced as every old world empty promise is, but unbreakable by old world politics. Thus it has value, the protectorate doctrine of the new world, yet without the permission of anyone. Money comes without it being a law, and goes without it being outlawed, in either direction. Yet, i mentioned the old world's currency of social dominion, and the new world's ability to socially dominate things worth mentioning (and discarding what's not.)

Wrapping up the story, it was a scenario for you to decide, you, the reader of this. We scale our operation by the ideas we trade in spoken word, in the next level the letters and blogs in filterable (search engine) terms the way of conversation. Neural networks powered by neural humans. So like every essay ever says, there's no one simple answer, but notice, one answer doesn't fit every question. In some cultures fate is considered both - decided and unknown - to discover the future and explore it at the same time. So which world is better? I'm trying to pick a world to live-on, and you've confused the piss and vinegar out of me!!! So I'll tell you the scenario, and if this is against your emotion, every story is different, whether their full of facts, when their not, etc.

It depends on how you rule society, as mentioned above. Listen, look, work, don't play, study, determined. If you like the old world, you structure things like college, those who live there are guided like children to finding a part of society and tearing it a new one, or at least i hope so. The society is very militant, like teachers who try to block bad things from children, the old world censors like it's a child's toy and their first go. Idealistically, the old world has success thru violence to force the student to train, but doesn't train them to do what's right, only what the most recent problem is, and too often has problems finding new solutions. -- The technical communication we call the internet has bound the two societies, while also in part making the informationists reside in a floating city with problems that only it has that the worlds have since overcome -- In the new world, the control you provide is best suited to structure yourself and society is more like after-college, there are almost too many futures to choose, but there is no whip for the horse, where we can trust old-world politicians to be dishonest, there is no gateway of permission to enter the new world, and watch everyone rush thru, and watch them find the best way around. As the new world builds pressure to burst thru its problems without restrictions, it's hard to get the free people to remember anything, they're so free that they have become happy, they respect the freedom to fight for a cause as a political movement or a tri-state area cheering the same superbowl team. It takes more than an upvote/downvote click for the new world to save things like college or restaurants, because they're trying to save everything at once.

Both worlds become wild animals at times, if you were to say what I just wrote, people become defensive and marked as upset. Too slow to find a better cause, or to quick to judge, without seeing that an answer is the best thing for our problems and for our questions.

You make sure people learn, or you make sure they let people learn.

This post is the best way today I know how to put the mirror back together again. You're so much alike it's alost ominous.

Now get into character you're still Martian spies, or did you forget...?

"Sometimes the first duty of intelligent men is the restatement of the obvious." George Orwell

mjbanks

Terracultural

'He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.'
~ Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, Aphorism 146 

It had distracted me to see so many images and so I entered delusions, it was only with my powerful memory and superfluous albeit hefty at times thot process that I haven't written an unfiltered blog lately.

Zombies, you all know them, you all love them, we all try to do our best not to offend them, so that they don't devour us for no reason. In their defense, it's all they know how to do, they can't really be productive or cook up something zingy. The card says you could've used zingity split. They wander together, they wander alone, I've even seen them following vultures circling - just wandering around in a circle because that's their devotion as we watch their arguments for doing so fall apart.

Satire, word.

As we listen to the songs the same and start to complain about things that won't be controlled, surfaces from the silent and still-set darkness ocean, the argument of weapons. It'd be violent of me to write about activism. It'd be passive aggressive to make a mockery of pacifism, and it'd be absurd to say that there were no crimes before big rocks could be held. 

I'm writing about this elsewhere.

I'm not sure if I've seen a bird smile. I know I've seen birds plant their eggs in dens of others, not because they expected it to work, but because they have only one emotion that takes over their mind, and will retaliate if the host doesn't abide. This is to paint a wider plot.

When my cat sees me smile, it thinks humans are big, dumb, versions of cats. It's easy to confide in truth, cats run from humans a larger predator like themselves, cats nestle to masters, for what they recognize as safety, from ancient emotion. They control that emotion and the picture writes itself.

Our animal brain draws life from the fires at dawn of time, and our human mind is still picking and choosing, finding and losing, which part of the chimera we will become. This is also why being undead is a science, not some art. Well, tbh there is good zombie television now and then.

The male shows his prowess to attract a female, like the stories in the geography books, and now because there are so many humans, she is prepared to do so likewise, but at a later stage. For point of fact, his hunger for her is a main element and the state of his soul, or your preferred scientific metaphor, is a defining factor. I'm not sure what she's doing, I'm a dude, she asks questions, I don't answer with questions personally, I'm not any of you, this isn't advice on the subject. Next paragraph.

Next clause?

If you're still reading this that means we have a lot to learn in less than a minute. If you're remembering this, wow you have a good memory, look at other people. Spacing out paragraph for lithographic acuity.

We are closer than ever with cities and farther than ever with distractions and this is trope, the brand we recognize as pass thru life, and in just that living. There are cities where the peacock spreads his feathers and the fittest wins sometimes by being fastest, this fact isn't a mating ritual, it's the human race. She can choose, he can choose, this is review for this blog-post, a piece of the conclusion, which you may or mightn't agree. In the cities, sometimes the busy metro-family (tribe) sees a visitor smiling and thinks this smiler is an idiot. Hypothetical, word, that citizen in mind to the tourist may see the entire city-population not smiling and dour, down and sour.

We smile across distances, the bird doesn't have teeth, the big cats we've become have. Those budy people wouldn't spend the calories to smile at - everyone - let alone make contact long enuf for it - in this sense.

Therefore, friendliness of the rural people, should not be exploited. They smile to welcome another human heart from solitude. I argue that their joy is read in their words. Likewise, the smile of a citizen would be rare and if seen, more-probably genuine from them, their emotions shouldn't be exploited.

How before the why.

In a busybody's time to smile, they don't use practicing smiling, so maybe they're not good at it, yet you can show them. You can show the foreigner to be more efficient in due turn, many hands make lite work.

We've come to the rule of law and the law of rules, I'm verily assuming this is the principle in the ying and yang duality, see previous/later posts, search engine.

When they know where they are in the space-time-continuum, the universes, they can peacock or choose, or choose not - smile or bustle thru the hustled planet, this to be themselves, but there is wilderness in us, and the reverse is also true, we are above the food chain, but still the previous humanity. That darkness at the edge of the universe. Sometimes they see too many of the visitors smiling, and they would punish them for it, this is the abuse of logic. The left attacks the right. Sometimes they see too many zombies not smiling, and they would punish them for it, this is the abuse of emotion. The right attacks the left.

The who and how of it.

You can ban rocks, it doesn't mean people won't throu them. Rocks are a metaphor. You can ban the roots of grass you hate because it's the wrong color/behavior, but it doesn't mean the grass won't grow. Grass is a metaphor. This level of control is considered a balancing act, and in this paragraph I'm even having trouble wording this, the behavior in a war that mustn't be won, but finished or avoided. When we see a sad city and decide to smile or see happy tourists and decide to explore, it might be our mass murderers think there aren't enuf smiles, or that when masses of mass-murderers (empires) see too many smiling, they decide to bring hell to earth. With all these memetic connections, even some wander into the dark area unknown, where writers and artists hide among you, and you tell them the killers you like need help and those that you don't like should be ended.

Teach the momentum of things - the heart of logic, the mind of emotion, and you will see it in your life, and you will show it to others, so that we don't all collide at the worst time. Oh, and explore other planets. Earth is the home-world, not lone-world.

"We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far."
~ H.P. Lovecraft, The Call of Cthulhu 

/mjbanks

6CH O-tu Bezhun

6CH 2018-06-21 O-tu Bezhun

1 Dwindling Sparks, 2 The Wild Boyfriend, 3 Shadow of Slaves, 4 The Pirate’s Gift, 5 The Game of the Tears, 6 Snow in the Eye....

1. Dwindling Sparks
The day is dark and by fire the sun sets across horizon that stares will see the black circle crawl into the earth from the blood sky, night becomes stars and in mix of fog and smoke the stars flicker, painted in mist and ashes for war the young young enter the city, eyes in the night they wait till each fire is embers and remove the lights of soldiers, the city is dark, the sound of pouring liquids into the dirt.

2. The Wild Prince
A knife falls on stone at the edge of the city, and the prince awakens with dread as alarm, he knows every turn in darkness and slays the attackers as they meet, he speaks to his men and tells them to secure the walls and work their way in, he fights many and is forced to retreat, into the secret hallways of where he was born, the centurions secure the wall by ending the invasion’s escape method and reinforcements, soldiers with torches work toward the city center, reinforced by numbers gathering from the walls, the black prince fights an equal, the red prince from beyond the wall,

3. Shadow of Slaves
The soldiers gather and the torch light warms the air and casts echoing shadows on the floor, the red prince accuses him of weakness for not seeking a war with the red, and of laziness for not farming with the farmers, the black prince lists the battles he’s fought defending the farms from him, “i’ve never heard of you until you began poaching liives, why would I strike at the night shadow?” - the red soldiers attack to save their leader, but are stopped as the princes fight again, the prince disarms the invader by wounding him, and offers to fight him hand to hand, or he may kneel and be executed, they choose gladly fight, their words are equal, their skills are not as the dark prince toys with him to get him to speak, but also ends him quickly.

4. The Pirate’s Gift
The prince looks at his enemies, markings all similar except for the invader prince’s tattoos has one different, he takes the invader’s sword, spending the end of the night looking thru the old books for pictures, the invader’s tattoo he guesses is a rank, and that symbol a type of pirate, but the sword has symbols of distinction only found in one book, of the old evils

5. The Game of the Tears
The prince makes amends spiritually by burying his dead, and farming with his people, a remorse matched by his regrets, only to be confronted by invaders in daylight, with an orange hostage, they make the hostage cry, they make the prince cry as he begs for peace and meeting of their leader, they set the hostage on brandy fire, the hostage tears sparkle with magic, the summer farmland grows cold as winter, a demon speaks from the body of the hostage-unburned, perhaps someone the prince knew, “you’ve taken my pet, you are the warden of a crippled age, this macabre prehistory and the demons that could be, awake in you” - prince “you stay for your death”

6. Snow in the Eye
“I welcome death in all forms,” calmly - their battle is set, “we share a heart, now we share a loss.” the demon waves hand and a viewer is frozen by leg and falls, the ground making them solid, the prince cannot wait for survival and attacks, the battle begins, the demon blocks sword with arm, and pummels the prince tossing him with battery, so the prince swings harder, but the demon is so frozen that the sword only pierces the skin of the demon in human host, with this seen and dissuasive the prince finds benefit in turning momentum against the demon, the demon does not wildly swing-about, for cold winter is slow and deadly, and magic breath of winter snow blinds the prince, a move apart, behind cart the prince finds axe, the confidence cuts the ice breath, and the axe cuts hard deeper, the prince spins about-himself on a foot and lands whole axehead into leg, the demon cripples to almost a kneel, with the prince’s own foot for leverage pries the axe away and spins again with a scream, the demon blocks the full-sped axe in air at his chest, losing the icy fingers on that hand, the demon howls as ice shatters, the prince thrown into the cart, now a hand-axe he climbs into the demon’s arms and hacks into face and throat and chest, the last to find a heart of glowing blue diamond, both are screaming, soldiers returning with torches and oil-soaked arrows, the prince chops the heart and hurts his hands it cannot be cleft, so he pulls the heart out with his hands, it is ice too cold to touch and throws the heart into the distance, the winter falls like a single blanket of rain

The soldiers check black prince and cheer victory, they burn the demon on the spot, the ice heart gives a single beat and becomes dark, obsidian/coal, the fire stops, the blue moon rises, the eyes glow again

/stop

Cryomancer
or,
The Demon
O-tu Bezhun (Cold Eye)













~ mjbanks

Plagiarized Existence

  Never
The sun owes me light
When my eyes are closed
  Never
I will rot among thirsty weeds
As the shadows wait for leaves
By trees shorter than flowers
Because of bitter pollen
And the words of birdsong
  Never
A blade of grass misses its roots
And curses the ocean for hiding the deep
A lost forget with many found remembers
  Never
Bones of unborn children
Spies of cemetery kings
My heart beats for new worlds
Where everyone belongs
A plant turns to seed
Not the other way around
  Never
So many pockets and nothing else
To hold resistance like a swirl
And drains around a rock
Where a farm should be
  Never
Did I just worry about the storm
Only soon to believe in rumors
Becoming monsters as assumed
When you want ancient aggression
From the empty tomb exhumed
  Never

Wordshifter

// intro 

 

Vampires and demons are not always the same thing and so 'Merlin' breaking writers block is coming together, but then this happened. 

I've taken a randomly generated story, a snippet, and changed the verbs as much as possible to prove that the bard is a requirement for linguists, but the future is probably a conlang with remnants of the big five. Boredom is a real. A few months ago I thought the past-tense of stare should be "storn," and a flashback triggered this. Enjoy?

(link to original snippet https://www.plot-generator.org.uk/2q4hnext/energetic-li-tov.html)

// begin computer generated blurb //

Energetic Li Tov

A Short Story
by mjbanks


Li Tov thunked about Ste Hu again. Ste wuz a thoughtless friend with wobbly eyelashes and charming abs.

Li walker to the window and refloke on her quiet surroundings. She had always loav magical Vulcan Homeworld with its early, empty estuaries. It was a place that encuroged her tendency to felted calm.

Then she sead something in the distance, or rather someone. It wuz the a thoughtless figure of Ste Hu.

Li golpe. She gloence at her own reflection. She wuz an energetic, down to earth, tea drinkster with short eyelashes and pointy abs. Her friends sead her as a vivacious, villainous volcano. Once, she haved even holp a worried chicken cris the road.

But not even an energetic person who haved once holp a worried chicken cris the road, was prepore for what Ste haved in stown today.

The clouds donce like bopping snakes, madeing Li healthy. Li grobe a silver knife that has beed strone nearby; she masoge it with her fingers.

As Li stope outside and Ste come closer, she coulded sead the fuzzy glint in his eye.

"I are here because wanti some more Twitter followers," Ste bellove, in a snotty tone. He slome his fist against Li's chest, with the force of 705 owls. "I frigging heart emoji you, Li Tov."

Li loke back, even more healthy and still fingos the silver knife. "Ste, I don't gets the money," she reploned.

They lokesed at each other with shocked feelings, like two dead, damaged dogs cooking at a very selfish accident, which haved orchestral music ployen in the background and two creepy uncles hopping to the beat.

Li regoured Ste's wobbly eyelashes and charming abs. She helt out her hand. "Let's not trigger," she whospe, gently.

"Hmph," pondourn Ste.

"Please?" boge Li with puppy dog eyes.

Ste loke surprised, his body blushing like a bulbous, bloody book.

Then Ste kim inside for a nice cup of tea.

THE END

// end computer generated blurb //

// outro 

That was really good, it had multiple layers while the one character's timeline makes you think she's vulnerable she's matured and backboned, but as the other is plotting and ulterior in nature, so much that it makes me think that one of them if not both are codependent in points of tension like the passage, but grounded in reality and direction while not being domineering if they are soulmates, if the story were to progress into a novella of ruffian refinement or even just a larger setting of love in the modern age. Do you know what I mean? 

/

yaj'a' (tlhIngan Hol)

yuv SuS

ghorgh 'oH maghom

yuv SuS

tlhoy'pu' ghorgh maghaj 

yuv SuS

SuS ghorgh malegh

'oH maleghbe'

yuv SuS

'ej teH ghu'vam

Cleaning House of Cards

"We are the weeds, battered and broken"
~ Allegaeon

It comes to our attention, and we address it, by which a socialist becomes antisocial, and we call them a communist. At that time, the communist believes the means of production should be controlled by the people, but in grave hypocrisy and contradiction, believes this goal quintessential. To believe the ends justify the means, their goal justifies the method of authoritarianism, the institution itself of communism removes the means from people. On a personal level, I find this ever odd that they find it a divine cause and attack all forms of spirituality, since double standards conjure the old evil. It comes to cultural expansion, in those times where logical answers inspire emotional questions, which radical socialist isolation avoids truths and replaces them with calls for the control lacking within themselves, to place on everyone. If only, they knew capitalism is not the lack of idealism nor socialism nor communism, for there to be restrictions against the abuses of bureaucrats, corruption and concealment, socialism and starvation, in a world were joy to come from heart and strength to come from unity, the only control is capitalism.

A man hated weeds, so he stopped watering his garden. The weeds died, and so did his crops.

mjbanks 

Haldoz - Addicted to Chaos

Haldoz (2018-04-25) Addicted to Chaos

1. C.F.
2. T.D.S.
3. F.M.
4. Y.S.
5. S.W.
6. L.D.

1 - Cracked Flames - i took this journey myself, and has missing steps, this long empty hallway carved smooth into the darkness of the mountain itself, until an end with high sides, would i climb my way out needing stone claws and less hunger, the muted sound of lightning blinding widely across the white sky with following clouds like the surface of a stormy ocean from below, the fire there already lit, is warm and glows, the flames wave with each flicker cracked as decaying leaves as ice melts in the desert sun, falling asleep beside them i am warmed with cold, and wake set ablaze freezing in flames, explosions of embers in my face i wake startlingly this now for reality, as the blacksmith strikes anvil with an eye on his wrist, sparks with each pounding, sounding high pitched sounds in melody with the thunder of stomach pangs, the wine is warm, the bread is not

2 - The Dark Sword - midday the sword is done, given ancient stones i struggle to see it in the light of the high sun, for extra silver and gold i can buy the one type of whetstone to sharpen it, it seems, and so shall with confidences of and for mine own, i take the handle and the sword reveals itself, handle lighter than air and stirs the air each swipe, but the handle chooses to fall first each time heavy enuf that in throws the blade shall bevy upward as the grip may sink into lesser sands, a trap of misfortune, a misstep for some sap, after sharpening it slits it’s holster and more money is due for something new

3 - Flying of Man - i feel in rare form hacking other swords in two, and to my homeland outside and below the mountain toward the 7th star of the world circle, almost arrogant to cut lesser swords in half, and beyond careless to not hide it on small bounties warranted along the path from inn to inn, as a squad of hunters lure me into a chase after them and their victim, to a building, to it’s over-floor dormitory, one of them i knock-out, another i am forced to cut him down, another leaps from a window, as he lays aground i drop the sword knowing the handle will hit him and sink him, without his death, a foolish fault, another raider steals the sword, all of the evil squad flee together, leaving their captured victim wounded for me to assist

4 - The Years’ Souls - by her wounds healed i depart, and for every rebirth of the moon i end one of them when the moon makes full, closer then am also I, following the tale of the nightmare blade that makes victims scream and witness speak of an ancient pain, to stay thieves they stay in habit using the dark sword, to stay alive they use it too often, tyrants across an honest countryside, as a bell to follow,

5 - The Ship of the Woman - the sword is with the raiders, hiding in plain sight in a dry town, a handful, each with pieces of the blade, broken and wrapped in ancient leathers, as jagged daggers, most are stopped, gathering pieces and checking bodies for more, their leader escapes to the port, another henchman down, the leader has escaped, tailing a rope i board the ship soaked, the woman i saved is on board, admitting error, i fight the pirate, admitting regret for not hunting me, as he dies she attacks me, as she dies i search for the pieces of the blade,

6 - Legacy in the Dreamer - i have two blades in two hands, the setting sun makes me impossible to see, the scared crew try another attack, as i survive the blades catch fire with blackened flames, i force the crew to hesitate as i steer directly toward land, i swim to shore and head to port, i count the pieces of broken sword, incomplete i head to the water where i swam, staring into the choppy small currents crashing against each other, each wave swells from the deep and carries silence and echoes of a mountain against the sand and collapses like avalanche, thoughts racing across my journey the struggle waits with how it began, what words would speak unto myself to start again, a port lantern flickers, opening the glass i burn the blades, the amber color glows faint below the surface of a mosaic glass sea, without candle there is darkness, by burning blade a sunken beacon, my dive is tranquil and warms me, in madness of silence so many questions to myself are answered as i search for shards of the sharpest blades, closer they glow familiar white with the owners eyes of magic blood, the air is fresh, the dry land is restorative, not all the pieces are there, travel to the place where it was forged in beggar's rags with wealth of knowledge, but the smith has passed, so i mend the sword myself anew, in the massive time to learn i now am ready to give it to the youth sleeping in the workshop, so i sell the sword myself wiser, for more than i had paid, after some words i tell a man with one eye my story, he tells me that i’m stronger in all ways for the journey with an armlet bearing the symbol of an eye on his wrist, i look away and he disappears, leaving me with the missing piece

/end

Psychopomp

Inside the broken fortress and all lay lines point to me, glowing like the diamond forest at the salted bloody sea, swaying back and forth emotion in this dark eternity, take the midnight sun devotion and wind becoming free

For the writing of a nation and the journey of the lash, make your tunnels to your station as world becomes our ash, truth behind eternal bloodshed as the dragons' teeth do mash, with these darkest of devotions, all of time within a flash

Make you by the mirror window

See you in the solar breeze 

Find a trail of pure emotion in the night

Thank your kings it's not so simple

Wash ashore now on your knees 

Now this burden blinding with the darkest light

Selling to the burdened shadow with the tailor and his knives, like the witches and the sailor running from the dragons' eyes, running souls across the fires of the molten lava spies, break the wisdom of your omens that the underworld denies

(solo) 

/.

Tones of Home

I.

Have something to tell. One paragraph rough drafting on my phone and wireless keypad and something fiction tomorrow, which i was working-up in my head. 

Altho, I actually would like to know how many public enemies read this or crawl thru my posts looking for etherial nonsense, there's no need for understanding me, I don't. Enjoying #Android, but the native Blogger app is a labor-intense shit that doesn't even recieve from other apps, so using the one alternative they should just buy. Whatever, I already wrote against victim disarmament, and prolly more importantly, I'm not going to write for human sacrifice, not the correct kind of temporal event. So perhaps twice the lasso and half the gallows, but I've been reading things like 'banning assault weapons, but not pistols' and there is a timeout matter-of-factly or mother-of-fugly, ask yourself what the word assault meant before the discovery of gunpowder or rapid progression projectiles, are you really banning assaults, it seems dumb, muted in awakening, which the lovers of new laws have called an assault would not call being shot an assault if a class of weapon were uninvolved. Let the second failure of your spoken language be in that, they are defense weapons, in ancient english we would say, "weapon hurt, weapon not toy" and essays on weapons rights are as peurile and fascile as can be, protected only by the level of sophistry, like behavioral science in a pig pen, it's just not done. Actions speak louder than words, if eveyrone is talking, there is no honored action. If you should do you, they should do them. 

Okeyyy, a little ranting. In the diatribe that is our social media, just say post, shortened from a posting. Fuckidily derpus, while we're at it, the American English, learn how to say R, TH, and S, as if different letters.....i can't even. The mouthfuls of four-corner english is an ASSAULT on my senses, i'm not going to ban language, and even if i did, wouldn't change something that exists. The origin of the language comes from a land that is midly a prison colony during my lifetime, altho that one royal is betrothed to that one actress, making joint productions that much easier. 

I've been saying to myself something of a question. So you have a gang, is it worth a damn? or is it just a group of shitheads doing what they think a gang does? 

Note to self: Is morality the same as consciousness? 

The rain falls from the sky, the rain falls from gravity, then gravity is the sky. Even in the last thing I read, knowing full well that crimes against anything earthian are to be punished, i'm the man who sold the world, and i can't begin to describe the item to sell online, but with the madness dont' think i won't sell your enemy base to the highest bidder, the madness that i think i'm getting-to/agreeing-with, pfft english, is that the attention seeking alarmism of lies scares sheep into dragons, not the cartoon kind, and the super-saturation of niche brainwashing puts the purity of truth at risk. I've been thinking about pieces of this entry thru-out today, the way a person walks backwards for a running start, looking at words like touchstones in cyberspace, if journalists are the new rockstars, what does that make the guy with the shouting cursewords disorder?

Harmony. 

mjb

Necessity

It rains, it falls on me

A song of age, trapped inside the mind

Vulgar, declaration at the many armies unfolding

Hard to see, blurred behind a shield

The wind, it travels unto thee

These are many skies, holding our banners alike

Harmony, of worlds at present tense

To see life, as an element existent rains

Safe passage, by the time we know our words

In madness a truth, touching winds and hearing trees

Monumental, abandoned shelters standing for ghosts

The current era, manied bearing witness to idealistic temples

To me,

For the new world,

Won,

Thrice beyond sunlight.

Returnity

In returning to the grave I was dying to sleep.

And other wonderful phrases of the dark and the deep. Hello everyone. My name is CENSORED and it's time to do a post. The randomicity of all this thoughts to put into a single entry, thanks for reading, you're super, have to take the same format as always. I feel, that interaction is my second language, I get it but there's not a lot of grace to it. Comes it with the normal expectations, look people in the eyes because they expect you see them speak their emotional disdain with their eyes, and we smile at them for all their attention, but eyes don't speak. I've always found it the same when the cats are staring, they're about to attack, they've just not a why yet. I'm particularly offended by the amount of people who for their own sake stare until you make eye contact simply because they have to look at what they're talking-to, dogs bark at targets and sing with their eyes closed.

I communicate fine with the keyboard. I miss chat-rooms to a degree, the reading, the requirement of short term memory and interesting logic. All this mass hysteria that is infotainment is just backround noise.

In finding my distaste for change, the constant inviolable frustrations of insomnia and hundreds of other ingredients from mental disorders that mend my psychic armor, not very often you get hit in the face with a fish, but not something worth begging strangers to do. So I get into my returnity, this shapeless endless schedule and drink from the darkness, were sadness to make be wary it wouldn't remember the echoes of insanity, and I look the same, this saddening madness, this maddening sadness, this repulsive need to write with one eye electrostatic and the other on the void. There is not a place for the over-complete, and I am incomplete without it.

This very egocentric writing entry distasteful, and the days I've spent at the gymnasium. Turning it into a pattern, able to handle changes, perhaps unless my endorphins are primed, thru-the-roof, then there's some cognitave staggering. I mean, there's no problem, I'm sure it's fine, without jittering or twitching. I was interested in mirroring the others, and that means normalcy, a logical variable, my disposition to be a maintained physical gym-goer and so far so good. mjbanks.tumblr.com is where I discuss that. I'm having no trouble focusing on my body, I'd like to focus on others, but honestly I need to study first. In a simpler time there's no need for psycho-social remunerations.

SO, change of topic time, in a way.

....and then I see the national debt is high and I think why can't gov't work for free, only take donations, and give it all away to only the needy? because they're politicians, that's why, that someone needed more and so they stole it, but phrased it nicer, instead of making more money. They'll stare at you if you're not a bleeding heart on the sleeve of a cult uniform like maligned animals. In so many ways a rigid morality, I'm not playing in traffic, there's just a need to meet sleep requirements and my clothes have to match or I'll hold the planet hostage or something? #thisisfine

in other news, i've started a string of tumblr's that serve absolutely no purpose, maybe like the way people collect things, this is more in the hobby range and prolly can be stopped and won't get started, not the specific-obsession gym thing, which is really a common thing, people do that, i do that, maybe i'm normal and i just have no integrity, it's a special thing to go workout and swim in my thoughts, uncountable, incomparable, something in it's own egocentric right, lemme slap these here brb

mmjjbbaannkkss.tumblr.com ethos, speakvulcantome.tumblr.com logos, speakeasyklingon.tumblr.com speaklingontome was taken, speakromulantome.tumblr.com pathos, speakbajorantome.tumblr.com spiritual resistance, speakkardasitome.tumblr.com political, speakferengitome.tumblr.com parody, speakterrantome.tumblr.com translations into the other languages on this list, speakborgtome.tumblr.com tech, speakirathienttome.tumblr.com outdoors, speakcastithantome.tumblr.com archaic, speakkryptoniantome.tumblr.com super motivational, speakvalyriantome.tumblr.com, speakdothrakitome.tumblr.com, speakquenyatome.tumblr.com, speaksindarintome.tumblr.com, speaknavitome.tumblr.com

my real worry about tumblr is that i'm going to reblog some horrible shit that i follow into the timeline, if you see a language you know, taking about 4 months for me to learn the basics of a new language other than tells, so a klingon poem in april?, it might be years before i get to the end of the list, yes, it's easy to waste time on the internet, now you know, i didn't even know some of them were accessible languages, an epic timesuck yes, it could take forever and prolly will. I'll post a link to those in another update should there be one.

Everything is copyright the moment you create, so that's the root of this post. The crazy goal is to have books, something of value from this keyboard fantasy, a take-away, stuff maybe. The expectation being that different languages do different things and when the extraterrestrials get here they say - hey, why don't you speak english, the tv we got was english and we learned that - LOL, i'm going to the gym.

I only speak Terran languages, I just learned English by accident.


Sochya heh dif. Peace and long life.







/

Yuk-Tor, (Vulcan 1)

kuvor-tor skek-nash-veh 

nam-tor wehk-figlazhau yel 

tvai ugelik wilat au

boshau dular div svi'run 

sagana vah tular ka'a stukhtra-veh

nam-tor tehnesaya maut-zungor

rik katra-ha'gelet

bek-tor yuk wilat

Time-Delayed Release

"It is hard to imagine a more stupid or more dangerous way of making decisions than by putting those decisions in the hands of people who pay no price for being wrong." ~ Thomas Sowell

It's early January 2018, this is my first entry of the year, and you're reading it whenever and I'm sorry about that, but to give myself some leeway from repercussions I've waited until now. I don't typically write about things just because things happen as sensationalism is never as sensual as emphatic fanatics would have you believe. Also, the powers get to read this and that's going to be a small adjustment that is analogous to selfless righteousness, a power that is not only unique to a very rare and exact condition, but is too much for anyone to control, and I have my doubts about it sometimes myself regarding my sanity. You would know better than I would.

Well then.

The liberal I know is sort of a scam, if and when their plans fall to waste  they become embroiled in generalizations and bitter rejection of responsibility. In these later years, I've learned that I've never disagreed with them more. More than ever. They're a liberal, and to make this about me, I always had my druthers to disagree vs that person on a moral level, as to find inner peace, who'd always set me on edge with loose interpretations and indifference to emotion, which my persona of misinterpretations and blindness to any casual emotive, combined with an artificial intelligence of physical expression, was at an arm's length from real communication in the textbook sense. To rephrase, I wouldn't have chosen to question over learning from anyone in their position, and still somehow learned top down skills to communicate with liberals, not people.

Now that's a proper insult, but let's look further.

In part, the liberal agenda is at odds with a conservative agenda, skip to the next paragraph to see what I mean. This reads like any other bullshit about liberals as time has told without straying. Many lessons of liberalism, to be accepting, to be unique, to be creative, to be successful, but it is all a blur, or a scarred photo of these things when one liberal atrocity outweighs all the good intentions, full and up. I often demand people recognize that liberalism is a youthful approach, but as others describe it as naivete, it kind of fits a metaphor, liberalism is like opening your eyes in bed, you still have to get out of bed and be a productive member of society, but the liberal chooses to procrastinate by all measures. Mostly I've seen that calls for acceptance are really stage decoration so that whatever shitshow they produce you've been coerced into watching it to the end. The liberal in question once tried to exploit a tax break on a property, and when it fell thru told me along the wording 'She's a woman, you know, they're all women,' which I don't know how bad that is and prolly never will, but that's where that liberal's mind went, it was somebody else's fault just so they could sleep at night.

Where conservatism is psychopathy fading into eventual morality, liberalism is a frantic sociopathy that's very in-the-moment, but not a moment grounded in reality. For the record, and historically, one who is conservative hopes to preserve order of the known world, whereas one who is liberal hopes to preserve the future of the possible imagination, not only are these at odds with each other, they are point-specific views based in absolutism or absolute-logic, vulnerable to themselves.

Cathartic plagiarism, idealist fanaticism, counter culturalists, these are just words.

There was a talk of fake news, I shine a flashlight/torch in your eyes at night, you cannot see forward, you cannot see peripherally (sides), but the light is for me to see, clickbait is just a way to see what's in the cave of this new generation where asking a question can be inconsiderate to people who the technological singularity search engine deep within the earth, cooled by the mountains and space, answers all. Obviously, don't stare at the flashlight, or screen, all the bloody time, you're in a cave of ignorance, it's best to keep your wits about you, not backwards-mac-backwardly. In advertisement window space, your cookie list shares lite conversation with marketing programs, where you've been creates what you see, as if a book that writes itself as you read it, the first chapter and your imagination are all that's stopping the ending from being the second-to-last chapter in a horror story for the next library visitor that borrows your book of blank pages. Lending the thought that so many impossibilities, as a compulsive writer, I'm having trouble ending even this sentence. I'll be right back, I must meditate/pray/commune/chill/foresee.

I, myself, am writing to postpone my daily responsibilities, like content-creators and curators-of-quality, likewise, in part destruction, in part creation, in part consumption, there are examples of this already.

So I don't think there's such a thing as fake news, just talking heads reading random phrases from a word generator found by a search engine that shows you what you wanted to see in the first place. In the invention of constructive critisicm in the form of objective verification, the matter is subjective, to the subject as chosen, from the eyes of someone who chose it. With each step, multiplicity. So that you scream at your computer screens with a rage to wake the dead. There's no real substance to information. As many have said, proven, and repeated. Putting martial law at the bottom of the list, it's just too bad that it inspires so much murder and chaos.

Some more liberalism traits, in worrying about the chaos of a world of individualism they seek to control everything, as a personality type thru-out time, I've seen that to them diversity refers only to diversity-of-body, not of thought. In a double standard, disagreeing with diversity as defined by conformity of different faces, is defiance to liberal nature, which wants blue skies on a rainy day, can blame anyone at anytime, and in varying degrees blame and punish the innocent. In conservatism, the same thing. These are just words, it's all just clever wording.

My favorite part. This next part, if you disagree with me, you'll be wrong, and I'm writing my side of the debate, and giving you until the end of time to do the opposition research, so that you won't be wrong and whatever that means to you, before you read the next sentence, but you'll still be wrong.

I hope you're ready.

I warned you. Don't say I didn't.

The immigration debate (I live in U.S. #usa) is a fine example of liberalism at its nucking futtiest. Two wrongs don't make a right, and there are at least three wrongs going-on here. Liberals have convinced conservatives to deport illegal immigrants. In a sentence of proper defining, if "immigrant" is the verb, and they are trespassing, then the adverb is "illegal," and terms like "undocumented" and "dreamer" are superficial. The entire ploy of this entry is that planners are better than dreamers, if you can't tell.

So then.

Discouraging the strong, or the smart, and above all, the moral, from entry is a sad state of modern geopolitics. Oh? You're confused on how it's the liberals' fault? Let me explain it, jeez.

A democrat is someone who practices democracy, so that excludes liberals, and a republican is anyone who lives in a republic, thus everyone is a republican, but having muddled these terms opens the doorway to the first error, anarchy. Next, priorities have been muddled in that the country has social benefit programs, the importance of them its own debate, this society has chosen presently to keep them, which means someone here to use those programs in lieu of citizens is bad thinking. The counterpoint is often stated as that there is 'enuf money for something so trivial' because the common assumption is that 'there must be because i want it to happen,' leading to the second error, ignorance. If $ wasn't an issue, you'd have a flying carpet by now. Wow, déjà vu much? If liberals new anything about economics, they'd be conservatives. At least that's the saying.

Break.

My confusion is limited to the defined reality, those worried about credibility now when they weren't up-to-and-including-now is like asking for an umbrella in a boat because water is wet. Not making sense is its own magic I suppose. Parlance, the word was parlance. Or that on immigration the capitalists of one country agree with the communists of another, but the reverse is also true while the stated goals are pure opposites, immigration and programs, station and statement, rank and file. They're not coming from countries with amnesty and they're not bringing amnesty-for-others to the table, it even contradicts itself. If only I could've predicted everything ever.

Big plate.

Conservatives aren't all that much better, in the mirror universe I hate them in place of liberals because the cycle of violence is just that, it takes a village to raid another village, so i stay out of liberal cities and conservative dens. Enuf about me, how about ancient Rome, very patriarchy, much castes. That's bad, but honestly, they did have levels of involvement. Non citizens can't vote, new citizens had rights but couldn't vote, and citizens could vote. Criminals couldn't vote, were the law to change, none sentenced before the liberty to vote given, could vote, because that was the law before they got here. There's that shitty part where the last president made a promise and promises have to be kept, but if I were Caesar I wouldn't let you vote, on what pagan parallel world would that benefit anyone, so long as there's the possibility that they could open the very gates of hell, this is madness.

Okay, i have to go to the gym (#cough i'm bragging), so let's wrap this up and put a quote at the top and the bottom, then let you carve-up this post for, let's say, awhile. As far as the news goes it's all fake, i just don't think the message is intentional because they're without any real purpose in life other than greed, praising creativity and then trying to escape illicit behavior by saying "i'm just being creative" is a mean dog on a thin string, and the immigration debate is shit because the programs to be had/exploited are what legal-immigration advocates are protecting that wouldn't draw people here if those programs didn't exist and would drive liberals insane until those programs newly existed, but that's not true because there will always be people who want to come here because their places of origin are shitholes.

My theory is that those shitholes come into existence because a person feels oppressed when they are not, said person comes into power, and oppresses the fictional enemies, in a lifelong journey of clueless whatthefuckness.

"QongDaqDaq Qotbe' tlhInganpu'." (Klingons do not lie in bed.)