Tuesday, February 17, 2026

The New Invaders

Everything feels like a product because everything is a product. People are merchandise. Personality is marketing. Nobody is human anymore. You're lucky if you can take advantage of the slavery. Some get lucky to just be an accessory. A Dixie. The Confederate States of America. There are Confederates in every nation in the world. It's got nothing to do with Hitler. Fascism persists because it's fun. People love to kill. People love to see heads explode. It's not chic to be a person. We have to kill you eventually. Maybe it will be fun when it's you.
We'd only be so lucky to have our history. Watergate and Equifax, Panama Papers and Mueller Reports. Epstein files, whatever. It's always been available to us the facts of the matter. What good is information in a society that doesn't read? You start to understand the cynicism, the vulgar conceit of the Leninists. You can't wait for everyone to make it happen. The burden of the community minded, the proletariat, good hearted ones especially, is they will always agonize over it. So much that they might never do it. Millions of youth are rising up, are banding together, are taking arms. But because this is a human struggle, not a mechanistic subroutine, it can't be dictated in a manner suitable to the capitalist interweb.
Millions of leaderless collaborators. How do you write a puff piece on that?
The old world carries a closer memory of change. Cultures persist from regime to regime, century to century. The people of Palestine can envision a world without Israel, because it already once existed. They have existed before Israel, and they can exist after. The imperial courts in the days of old in many nations, like Japan, Iran, or Nigeria have all fallen by the wayside... and yet the people's of these nations still exist.
The United States does not have a touchstone to imagine itself through, as a culture that can endure the fall of one regime. The United States is a colonial project, and the favored classes of this nation have forgotten their place as usurpers. Pretenders, yes.
I remember Foucalt wrote of a similar reality that shook me. We just don't have that psycho. To be able to put everything towards the needs of the cause. That's unfamiliar to us. We kill plenty of people, usually other strugglers. Usually underclass, usually colored people. Every now and again one of our kids loses it, y'know. It becomes too much. The system works again, and they kill each other. True Americans, Red Blooded Confederates, have never killed for the right cause. The founding fathers were confederates. Napoleon was a confederate. I'll choose to be meatheaded with my terminology. Why not? The best gringos, the ones you like. Dr King, John Brown, Malcom. Nikki, James, Angela. Not just political leaders, even our entertainers. I'm a big fan of Jack Kirby, right?
Americans are at their best when they harness a simplicity, a sort of meteoric race. Everybody sit at this counter and don't move. Throw a shield at Hitler's face. Tell the slavers to die. Kill them!
You know, that's why I think it just has to be a collusion of minds. We can all communicate what is important to us. We can't get each other to move at the same time, so maybe let's all start burning and shooting at the same guys, and we'll figure it out later. Lets get hamfisted. I'm endorsing the wrong mindset. That seems more American. I have a conceit that is founded in the same stuff Kant said like a billion years before me. That "a priori."
A certain part of what we know is the same. Maybe tap into that sort of anima, as I would say. Let's just clarify the targets first, and we can all find our own ways to murder. Organize our minds, and take advantage of our strengths as monsters. Gringos! Because we all know the culture war conceits are fake, right? We will not hurt each other. It's money that rules this country, right? Find that first. Substantive harm, not identity. Don't be so colonial.
The Natives already figured it out, and we're just clawing our way back to their aptitude.
Something is always missed. Some of my friends in Gaza appreciate my expedience in communication, my desire to publicize and serve the interests of a million people at once. Others find it concerning. "Take care of yourself, my friend." Believe me, I'm trying. I've a shooting pain in my back. I have to buy new needles today. I have to take out a loan for a new car. I have to save up for some iron. Rent will be coming up, that's more than half the check gone. So how will I find the time for just violence? What would the Qassam Bridgadiers encourage? I wish I could have met them.
How do you mobilize a culture of meatheads? You get louder. Americans like characters, not people. Become the Fishman, pick up a shield, slap on a Domino mask. And just start punching. Be stupid for the right reasons. Organize to make a full brain out of single cells. Let me get this iron and I'll have words with you all.

Monday, February 16, 2026

2/16/26 - I Me Mine

The black ichors of my being trickle through the crags of the summit, dripping into the quarry below. The dark liquid of emotion glazes the rind of an ethereal stone, humming with the sickly melodies of heartbreak.
Doldrums, doldrums, I sit aside the water and see my reflection.

Spongebob... I need you to buy a gun. And I need you to kill me.

I'm getting tired of this. Oh, my days.

But, it's okay. Its okay.
By "this," I mean the ever shifting sands of a talking stage. I'm tired, boss.

The stale air. Mother Gaea's geomancy pulls us closer to the mantle. The sexual austerity of the plains whistles against the tall grasses. A voice heard in the weak winds of winter... Re'em... Re'em

But! Here's the thing. She did not do anything wrong. In fact, I'm certain I'm at fault for misreading messages, right? Right?
Idk man. 
It's like an on-off switch is flipped with this sort of thing. I wish her her well, but like HOWWW did she take the progression with such grace if she had a man the entire time?

Ser Robert would find the proclivities of his merry men to be an annoyance. "Not for a character of deviance," Little John said, "No! Robert knew of their fantasies, aye. One too many whispers of a ruse to the tavern maids. There be a thousand Robin Hoods in this realm, for no one man could carry such a romantic pull towards the hearts of dames so fair... none but him. Ser Locksley is burdened by such an appeal, wouldn't you know?"
"It's only natural, isn't it," the Friar pondered 
"It frustrates him to know that, in his heart, Marian could be the only one. So how could this folly stand afront his truth? A man so possessed with purpose... it sickens him. God smiles too kindly on his heart, and see how it debilitates him. Providence bewared, his sign stretches across all livelihoods, does it not?"

My mindset is, (if she is straight, right?) then it's entirely possible that she did not read my actions as being romantically coded. 
Like, given the possibility she doesn't have a tranny liking bone in her body, it makes it my fault for believing she actually-

Gun.

This happens to other people. This is not supposed to happen to me. I hate you, Chappel Roan. Be less... human, please? Do me the service of being trite, not so timely, not so relatable.

Lady Stardust sang a song of darkness and dismay...

I POLITELY. GRACEFULLY. WILLINGLY. SOUNDLY choose to remove our fair lady from the roster.
Like picking teeth.
May God bless her, AND her man. 
He's not even ugly is the thing, so I can't even do any ad-hominem attacks. That makes it less frustrating on one level, but silencing on another. Like, okay, I get it. No, that's understandable.

"Let me warn you of that which I can't stop, Lieutenant. Off the record, my word."
The lieutenant moved his ear closer to Admiral Bright, heeding a wisdom he then had no reason to doubt.
"You're only lucky that you haven't felt that spark yet. Do you know what I speak of?"
"I'm sure."
"It's one thing to feel it in your instincts towards combat. As a pilot, that's become common these days, as difficult as that might be to stomach...
But I've observed something more terrifying in my years in the federation.
You will find, at some point, a soul within your enemy. That spark, it might compel you to feel deeply for the enemy. This is your conscience, come manifest in this incarnation of our very own human race. This is, in all seriousness, your heart.

I tell you now, not as your commander, but as a human being: you must ignore what your heart tells you, in that moment.
I've seen it too many times. There cannot be co-existence in this veneer.
Let go of this woman. For her sake. For yours."

But you see, class... the thing is, I'm mutuals with him on my main account as well. 
It's interesting. This is what gets me, right? If she really was aware of the vibe of our communications, yknow, my mindset towards her and her whole deal, right? She would have told him. Her boyfriend, right?
"This trans girl from out of state is trying to flirt with me on Instagram and it's weird."
If it was like 2 weeks of development it wouldn't matter... but reader.
Since September last year this has developed. It's February.

Because why am I on *her* close friends too? She let's me follow her spam? I have her number? These are not the permissions one would give a casual Instagram mutual. Like... no, she's smarter than the average bear. So I KNOW that SHE KNOWS that I KNOW she knows. I KNOW she's read this blog! I'm very chalant! I've done all but mention Persephone by her real name, right?
Ugh.
I don't think that smart phones should have been invented.
I really don't care for the things. I don't.

All through the day
I me mine, I me mine, I me mine
All through the night
I me mine, I me mine, I me mine
Now they're frightened of leaving it
Everyone's weaving it
Going on strong all the time
All through the day I me mine

I have to elaborate on an element of this. I have known she has a boyfriend for a few months, right? But it wasn't outright obvious. She bareeeeely posts this guy. I was moving like Motherboard from CyberChase to glean this in the first 3 months.

And now that I have learned what I need to know... I know enough to make a decision.

Persephone is henceforth honorably discharged from Adri's scroll of yearning, with honors.

Because she's cool and and I fw her as a person and shit. You gotta understand, Persephone is still like... yearn-worthy. I just cannot ethically yearn for people already involved fr, you understand.

There's some new figures in our midst as well, you know. I'll see you all soon. Ciao.









The New Invaders

Everything feels like a product because everything is a product. People are merchandise. Personality is marketing. Nobody is human anymore. ...