fA FA FA FA FA FA FA FA FA FA. I am a Systems Analysist. Recently graduated from Devry Institue, I am pushing myself forward toward an exciting career in the world (wide web) of career building and fiscal increasings. Skilled and trained with the skills I need to succeed in this high paced world, I am a accumulating experience in becoming a modern day technological solider. My options: limitless. My freedom: knows no limits. My potential: without limit. I have a positive attitude and thirst for power. Let me help me help you. Together with my partner Higgins, I plan to work toward a Trumpian world order, but in my vision of success, no body is fired. Incompetence is just as valuable an assent as competence, when applied in the correct circumstances. Higgens can attest to this. I wish one day to have my own reality show entitled "Xi in Charge." Higgins will of course be there every step of the way, so long as he is able to control his terrible urges. Please friends, let us all move forward together into the future. The future of what? you ask. The future of now. With my plan, with an eye to fiscal earning increasings, with my finger on the button of success, without fear, with nice shoes, and without failure, all of us will bask in the sun of accomplishment by way of virtual space. I dare you, nay I ask, nay I demand that you challenge my vision of accomplishings, for that will only drive this force further into the forbidden realms of power and success. I will feast on all anti-thesis to my thesis. The challenge-food will only fuel my colon with hate and energy. This energy hate will then only be trans-mutated into success bringing. I will lead my led ones out of the dreary tundras of ceaseless cyclical failure, and into the Balian beaches of boundless profit. Come now. Don't miss the boat before it set's asail for the new world, for the bells are ringing now, and the boat pieces are ready. God speed this insatiable lust for happy bringings and fiscal fast forward button pressings. The future is here, embrace it with all limbs.
Prince: Love sexy, 1999, Sign of the times, Purple Rain.The fucking Nation.DJ Awesome
Debbie does the Pound. Christopher Walken gone wild. Plastic: Nature's unnatrual enemy. Who wants to marry my big fat creepy Uncle: ultimate Fear Factor.
Television is intended to cognitively oppress and retard the revolutionary spirit. One must therefore resist the inclination to given into tele-visonary sound and light waves, the only purpose of which is to leave the potentially riotous rabble in a state of lethargic tranquility and indifference. It renders you utterly passive and complacent while the inimical media whore controls brainwaves, dictating consumer habits and replacing human ends with technological ends. Efficiency, productivity, speed; all of which misrepresent human end-fulfillings. Images altering approx every 3 seconds to keep the viewer active in observation yet, paradoxically, passive in analysis and thought formation without which the viewer fails to conjure enough energy to spark any indignation within him/herself, much less in anyone else. Known to its adversaries as the Thief of Time, the television relentlessly seduces one into tranquility with the promise of immediate and effortless gratification, allowing the viewer to find solace in the excitement of vicariously accomplishing what he/she has endeavored and sought after: sex with an attractive partner, crime investigation, family hijinx. Goals which seemed within our grasp gradually become brushed off as distant youth driven aspirations that have out grown their purpose. With the spawning of children and grounded careers spawns regret and acrimony, festering in one’s heart, but manifest in one’s acrimonious attitude toward one’s children/ spouse /employer /co-worker/ relative. This festering feeling simultaneously demands reaction and inaction. One recognizes that something must be done, but like a cancer is debilitated by it. In order to momentarily escape the dread and regret from the cyclical everydayness that has replaced a long gone drive and thirst for accomplishment, one gazes willingly and anxiously at flickering images which feeblely, yet consistently, project artificial pleasure data to the senses until the repetition finally sedates all cognition and imagination. You’re fucked, you recognize this, yet find comfort in the second hand sense of fulfillment that is comes with national voyeurism. By laughing you participate, right? Until one day you realize that the character you’ve believed to have self cultivated is actually a conglomeration of television personalities most akin to your interests, which since childhood have already been determined by the very images that define 5 hours of your daily life. You wonder how your ass got so fat, but then are quickly reassured that modern technology will accommodate your drunken pleasure seeking lifestyle while simultaneously curing whatever insecurities that may cause you distress. The solution is immediately and effortlessly found in the problem, to which you shrug your shoulders in an air of contentment: things are not that bad. It’s not a problem that interaction and intimacy become replaced by non-reciprocal relationships and dealings with the world: leave me alone and just let me watch. The isolation is easy because it’s what you’re used to.
Gengis Khan. Chiang Kai-Shek. Dick Cheney.