On The Topic of Gang Beatings

So you’ve just gotten off your shift at that inner city job. It’s dark out, no moon, and even though the city is filled with lights, you can’t see your hand in front of you for christs sake. Walking down a grime filled alley(it’s allways a grime filled alley, isn’t it?), you suddenly recognize the sound of voices. Twelve ghetto youths, with poweful testosterone induced voices, and that cousin chui slang, are approaching.

“Hey hey whats this shit in our way boys?” One of them says as they swiftly fan out in a circle around you. They most certainly have guns, and they banter back and forth over what they’re going to do with this dickhead since the night is so young. Maybe cut of his dick?

And thus, it begins. There are three ways to handle this situation, depending on what result you want. The first course of action is used only in the event that you want to survive. Seriously, don’t panic. Do you want to get through this alive? Pull yourself together for christ sake, then. And stop crying! (Damn, white boy… *Mumble*)

The key words you should remember in this scenario is this, 1)”They have Guns. They have FUCKING GUNS.” You’re not going to survive a fight, so you need to keep the banter going for as long as possible so that you can talk your way out of it.

Here’s how: People don’t harm people they like, and people like people who:

a) Share the same mindset as them. or b)Hate the same things that they do. So. Look at them and see what you can find out about them. If they’re all black? Say something about how all whitey’s suck. But don’t say it like a pussy. Or maybe one of them has the virgin mary tatooed on his arm. In that case, say a hail mary in spanish. Don’t know spanish? What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you want to get out of this alive? No excuses then.

All right all right, how bout this, if they guy’s got a virgin mary tatoo, then he’s probably been in prison, right?(how’s that logic go again..?) Say, “Damn, I hate the cops, right?” Instant connection. If you’ve done it right, and you haven’t sounded like a scared little pussy, then they’ll start talking about what you’ve brought up. Let’s take the cops one. DO NOT TALK ABOUT YOURSELF. Listen to what they have to say and respond with shit like, “Damn straight!” “fuck yeah.”, or eve, “shit.” Cussing is a pretty good way to establish rapport, definitely, so long as you don’t say, “fuck your mom.”, or, “you’re daddies a pussy!”, you should be all right. (Note: These guys probably never knew their dad’s. If you say ANYTHING that assumes they did, you’ll be dead before you hit the ground.)

Ok then. So they’ve been talking and bantering for a while. They might be getting a little fuzzy on what to do with you. But you’re still in their little circle, so it’s bound to be something violent. If you can approach one of them, you’ll be getting out of the center of the circle, and that’s symbolic of, “parties over, fellas. I’m one of the pack.”

Obviously, you should approach the leader. Be respectful, don’t make any sweeping gestures, but don’t huddle into a ball either, you fucking pussy. Model your motions after the leader’s second in command. And again, use rapport to talk. If they guy smokes? Sorry, you’re gonna have to smoke.

Approach the guy, give a motion towards his cigarrate, and say, “I’d like to try one.”. Of course he’s going to grin cause he knows your so stupid. Try the cigarrette. You’ll cough up a storm, but you’ll be one of them. The circle will be broken. Afterwards, they’re gonna ask you some questions about yourself. Lie, if you need to, but talk, act, like one of them. This time though, the pawns. It’ll make you less threatening to the leaders.

Around this time, the guys will get bored and ask for your phone number. Unless you’re a fucking Gang-Banger, GIVE THEM SOMEONE ELSE’S. They’ll leave shortly. Get the fuck out of there. Run if you need to, and sit down on your fucking couch to watch Fraiser with some HagenDaz, you pussy.

The above was for all the pussies who don’t cary gun’s or knives at night. If you are not a pussy, but it’s still 5 against one. Then the course of action depends on the kind of guy you are. If you are the kind of guy that fucking hates these sons of bitches, then, well… I mean, who the fuck do they THINK THEY ARE??

Take out your .45 and pull of a headshot while they’re still coming down the alley, before they even think about forming a circle. Of course, you have to at least make sure they know you’re their, and that they are intending to make a goddamn circle. Otherwise, you’ve just provoked a bunch of guys with guns, who want some fucking revenge.

But think about it: A group of five guys who think they’re all badass spot a little tiny baby lamb. They smile to themselves as they untie their belt buckles. Then the lamb whips out a fucking badass uzi and goes after the fucking leader. The shock of it all will leave those fuckers running for their lives(we can only hope). And it will leave you quite satisfied. Still, it’s important to know that the timing of this is CRITICAL. You need to pull off the headshot while they are still feeling puffed-up and self-important. If you do it before that, you’ve just put them on the defensive. Afterwards, and they’ll fucking retaliate. But during this critical time… ah, now THAT’s a wound to the ego.

Ok then. I’ve saved the best for last. What if you’re the Joker of Gotham City? Well. Well, well well…Things are gonna get good. You would do the same thing as the pussy, of course, but this time, the objective is different. As a result, you target your rapport towards the leader’s second in command. Get him to like you. At the same time, say things slightly brusque enough to piss off the leader. If you play your cards right, the second in command will get delusions of granduer and attempt to take over the group, possible taking half the other guys with him. The leader will take the other side.

Now then. In any pack, the second best is more liked than the leader. This is because the leader commands deference from EVERYBODY. But the second best has to give defference to someone, just like the grunts. He’s lower on the scale, and thus can rally the troops better. Almost always, he’ll end up with the bigger group. *Note* if the second in command is the leader’s brother? You’re fucked. It’ll never work. Go ask the joker, he’ll tell you what to do, you fucking wannabe.

There is one other alternative, and that’s shut the fuck up, lay on the ground, and submissively take the beating. You’ll get the snot beaten out of you, but you won’t be killed. The guys are looking for some fun, and they’re not going to kill you cause it’s a pain in the ass(coppers…).

So there you go. Follow my advice and you’re destined to fail in one of those three, urr… four ways. If you are actually foolish enough to try this, I say one thing: Godspeed, bitch.

On the Topic of Percieving Causative Relationships

Gird yourselfs, this one’s deep.

How can we percieve causative relationships? A causative relationship, of course, is that little matter that we call “cause and effect”. And a causative relationship is the rule that we humans so often make, when we are presented with two objects in rapid succession, over countless times, that the first object causes the second.

For example, If I see a bowling ball in somebodies hand, and upon seeing the hand let go of the bowling ball, proceed to see the bowling ball fall to the floor, I might come to expect that the opening of the hand causes the falling of the ball. It is a cause and effect relationship, a rule that has been burned in our minds.

But therein lies a probably, presented neatly by Hume: In our knowledge of the world, we may percieve impressions, of which we form ideas, and that these impressions and ideas, total consist of the entire sum of knowledge that we may hold in our minds. In other words, when we think of anything, imagination or memory, we are always recalling upon the store of impressions felt and ideas drawn from those impressions, all of which have only come from direct experience. Complex imaginations, such as unicorns can always be broken down into elementary impressions and ideas formed from experience. As an example, we may never have seen a unicorn, but we have certainly seen horns, and we have certainly seen white horses.

The problem I spoke of, however, comes when we apply this theory of knowledge to the knowledge of causative relationships, namely “cause and effect”. And to show this, I shall ask a question: Upon inspecting an object A, is there anything about object A, any quality or observation, that shall lead us to deduce that object B will follow soon after? Nope. The only thing we can observe about any object is relational to that object itself, that object only.

Thus, the only reason we come to conclude that A “causes” B is the fact that whenever we see A we almost immediately see B. In other words, the law of causation comes from sequence only. Sequence. Succession. If that is the case however, then it is obvious that causative relationships can not form any part of an independent existence in human knowledge. And it’s true. Have you ever had an “impression” of a causative relationship? Have you ever seen one? No. You’ve only infered in from repeated sequence, but you can never inspect one.

This was one of the tricky conundrums of the 19th centure, and represented a dead-end: the end result of lockian influence come out to a harrowing negative. Since then, modern philosophy has become quite sceptical, and for good reason. After all, while direct cause and effect laws never show up in developed sciences, the law of “cause and effect” is one of the foundations for believing the validity of western science. The fact that cause and effect is not part of human knowledge means that there is no valid reason to expect that the same effect shall come of the same cause at all. You can not infer the relationship by inspecting either object, and thus can not come to believe in any causative relationship. Bring this principle to it’s fullest conclusion, and the whole of modern science is a sham.

I think, however, that hume did not go deep enough. Far from this representing a dead end, I feel that there is more to be discovered in order to resolve the current discrepancy. And the way to begin the investigation behind the scenes, as always, is to examine the assumptions of the argument.

What does Hume assume when he says, “if you examine object A or object B, you can find nothing that demonstratably links the two objects in a causal relationship.”? The answer, of course, is that A and B are separate entities. When we realize this, a sudden new pathway opens up, and the deep thinker realizes that Hume might not be such a dead end after all. Let’s go back to the bowling ball example: The first object, or impression of an object, is that of the hand holding the bowling ball. The second object, or impression of a sescond object, is that of the ball lying in a dent on the floor.

But these two impressions are hardly the same; a ball being held by a hand is not equivalent to a ball laying on the floor. A does not eqal B. But: When the object of ones attention is B, can we also say that the object A still exists? No. and that’s the key. Effects destroy their causes, because the reality of the hand holding the bowling ball was destroyed when everything changed. Where did that reality go? Well. Remember, by Hume’s ultimate “dead end”, we have no reason to suppose that object B actually is the effect of A. By his reasoning. I ask, where did object B come from?

So we have an object A that was utterly destroyed, and we have an object B that was created out of nothing? I don’t think so. I think, actually, that no destruction nor creation has taken place, but that the cause of the hand holding the bowling ball became the effect of the ball lying on the floor. To explain: An instant A does not equal an Instant B, but in the sense that A = A, and in the sense that B = B, if A becomes B, then in all truthfullness, to examine A is to Examine B at a later time, but the relationship between the two comes clear when we realize that A does indeed = B!

Think about it. The reason object B follows object A so much(the letting go of the bowling ball), is because the two objects are linked by another axiom of Identity. The axiom of identity with assurance from change! For example, it has been long held that if you melt a candle, what happened to the original candle, and where did the melted wax come from? The axiom of identity with assurance from change spells it out: The current reality of the object is the melted wax, but the impression of the candle can be found in it!

Given this, it becomes crystal clear that hume was wrong. So long as two objects do not exist simultaneously, you can find the impression of the one in the other. Thus, examining object A, if it precedes object B in succession, one can find in object A the impression for object B. What is the impression, you might ask? It is identity. The axiom of identity. Object A is object B, and thus, since the two objects are not separate, to look at one is to look at the impression of the other as far as the possibilities of change may go!

Hume was wrong. Up to this point, modern philosophy has held that Hume brought John Locke’s philosophical treatises to their logical grave. But Hume didn’t dig deep enough. In the same way, I will not make the same mistake. This new axiom, The axiom of Identity with assurance from change, is probably not the bottom of the barrel. But it is an important advance. It is the resurrection of Lockian philosophy; locke still has a ways to go. Interesting.

I look forward to the conundrums this new axiom may produce.

On the Topic of Money Over Bitches, Bitches

My new job is coming along rather nicely, I think. I cook for the customers, and I wash dishes, and as soon as the day is over, I clean up the entire kitchen. It’s a seven hour shift. But that’s not what I wish to communicate today.

Yesterday, I was taking a dump in the restroom at the cafe where I work, and lo and behold, some gangsta wannabe graffitied on the wall; it said, “MOB: money over bitches”.

He probably did not realize that with that attitude, he’s going to get lots and lots of bitches. Never mind the millions of hardworking young males out there who still haven’t kissed a girl, let a lone slept with one, who literally worship women, but have no money. It’s pretty funny how that all works out, I guess. God’s practical Joke.

But enough of that.

It is clear that there is a hierarchical relationship present in all men, who always want to be top dog. A friend of mine who hasn’t been to college yet who knows many medical terms consfused and flabbergasted my fellow college friends as we sat out to eat a meal at some fish place. They were all female, and could not figure out why he was acting like such a jerk(incidentally, each one of them found him rather atractive, if confused…). Later, I pointed out that they should know why he was acting like that, since they were all psychology majors. My friend was feeling put in a one-down situation by my college educated friends, and thus felt his need to assert his top dog status by(he was top dog where he worked) showing that he could have a big vocabulary just like them, which apparently he thought was valuable in the college world.

It’s traditional male psychology, and medical studies have been able to find that there is a direct relation between the intensity of this behavior and the amount of testosterone in the body. In fact, given knowledge of the chemical structure of a man’s blood, it would become quite easy to predict his behavior in a variety of different situations.

Whew.

Now for the third topic I wish to speak of. I’ll post a new post for that one. right after I post this one.

On the topic of Perversion of laws, manmade and natural.

Says right here in yesterday’s newspaper, a well established professor was put on paid administrative leave because of an e-mail he sent, detailing his sexual fantasies with school girls and his students. Particularly the hot ones, I hope.

I’m sure the man was ashamed because of them, and was attempting to reveal his shameful secret to someone who cared. The the fucker sent the confession in E-mail. I can imagine the bitterness, the anger, the following scene: The professor is walking outside of his office building when a swarm of reporters engulf him, screaming at him to explain his perverted fantasies.

“Apparently, I like young school-girls who’ll look up at me innocently while giving me a deep-throated blowjob, and will let me tie them up and take my time as I squirt cum all over their beautiful faces. Go fuck yourself.” *two finger salute*

Gotta admit, not exactly a politically correct response, but that takes balls, and he’d have my respect. Maybe he can pawn it for a hot meal. Alas, the stupidty of our prudeness becomes incredibly clear when one looks at the other side of the world in places like thailand and Japan, where obsession with young school-girls is completely accepted by everyone except the young school-girls. But, well, nobody really cares what they think.

Also on topic, it would seem that we have a major perversion of a natural law coming into play. Here in the United states, war is a necessity. We just can’t seem to get aroused without bombing a tiny asian nation into the stone age. Must of had something to do with our upbringing.

Luckily, a great age of super-soldiers is about to begin. That’s right: Gamers. I’ve heard of at least three cases where an entire police station was shot up by one kid, and in all instances the child spoke of his time playing First-Person-shooters highly. Amen.

Admittedly, Violent video games do not hamper children’s judgement. It would seem that the judgement of the child remains exactly at the level as it was before. So putting a violent video-game into a six-year old’s hands, is pretty much a recipe for disaster. But come on! A whole fucking police station?!? What the hell have our armed forces been doing all these fucking years? Knitting?!?

Perhaps there are people that hate violent video games and think they should be banned. Well, so long as they’re on the market, we might as well make use of the little fuckers and get them into elite fighting units. The U.S. GAMERS, a group of sick and twisted abominations able to massacre thousands of pol pot soldiers, decapitate hundreds of babies, and rape many many girls, and all this despite suffering three chest ones, a machete slash to the face, a broken ankle, and being safely asleep in their country home.

And the future holds even better promises, like android sex and nano-vodka. Ah yes. Exactly what jesus would have wanted.

What? Fuck you.

On Magic: Not being Magic, idiot.

TCGes gave millions of us with something to do. Instead of surfing the web and not interacting with people, or watching tv and not interacting with people, Magic: The gathering has given us hopeless losers the vital chance to sustain life-giving relationships.

Then some fucking fundamentalist church want’s to change that. Just like harry potter, these idiots are so accepted by our government for their religious beliefs. But they are stupid to think Magic: The Gathering has anything to do with the occult. Then again, I can understand where they are coming from. Who cares if the presence of magical forces has been a great measure of our cultural mythology and psychological health over millions of years? God wants it OUT.

You fucking pricks.

But I’m not here to rail against fundamentalist churches. I’ll wrap this up and say any claim made by any institution needs to be doubted until it has been substantiated.

Well, I have two decks. One of them is titled the “Lord of the Flies” deck, simply because I’m satan’s bitch, and he promised a seat next to him in hell if I played with it. He doesn’t know I’m a double crosser, though. Every time I summon “Jiwarii: The Earth Aflame” The spirits of old demons become reincarnated in my soul. Oh yes! I wish I didn’t have to put the blood of sacrificial victims on the important cards though, it makes it really messy to play the game. Then again, the ability to seal my vanquished opponents souls inside my deck makes it all the worth. A fitting gift for my master…

Oh yeah, I have this really cool card named promised kunnoshi. On the card is a picture of a human girl, dressed in a druid’s robes and playing with a green forest spirit on the floor of her uncles shack. She’s a 1/1 human druid, making her pretty weak, but with soulshift 7, when she goes to the underworld I can bring back a 4/4 scaled hulk! Nice! Wait… what was I talking about again?

Oh yeah. The disease is even spreading to catholic institutions. That woman that gave me birth didn’t like me playing magic the gathering, saying it was an opening to the occult. I couldn’t give a shit less what she thinks, but it’s nice to laugh at all the poor sons of bitches that are deprived social skills because their mothers are too busy worshipping bread.(worshipping bread… quoted from my friend, the good reverend carl…)

So. Magic:’s not Magic, idiots. God this is a lame post. I’m talking about a fucking TRADING CARD GAME. Next time I’ll be talking about Ranma of Dallas’s top 20 anime babes list. Not because they are funny, but because they are hopelessly drunk. Later, bitches, I’ve a date with a stripper and some cocaine.

out.

On the Topic of My Really Being Here Writing this.

Am I here. Am I really, really here, writing this? Sitting down, at my desk, with my fingers feeling the tactile feedback of the keyboard… Seems so real, doesn’t it? So do a lot of things, like that bastard son I raised in uganda three days before the september 11th attacks. Did I really do that? I thought I did. But did I?

Things seems so real, but I know that I didn’t raise that child. How could I have? It seemed like just a dream, and there’s no way that place could really exist. Then again, something even more real would be that dream I had almost one year ago. I woke up knowing nothing of what I know right now. I was somebody else: A student in japan. And I lived one whole day in the life of this student in japan, and when I went to bed I woke up here.

So is this real? It had better damn well. I don’t like being jerked around by the cruel gods of some taoist monk’s porridge stew, and I want to settle down for a while. So I’m sitting here writitng about my day.

I got a job. I start tommorrow at two p.m. TWO f**king PM. It doesn’t get much better than that. Especially after staying up all night thinking about drinking Irish Car Bomb’s and watching internet porn, which is all that the internet is good for.(It certainly sucks when it comes to gaining reliable knowledge about the world around you. Obama’s a terrorist, remember?) So I can wake up around noon and drown my sorrows in a bowl of steaming hot porridge, which I cook myself and eat on an old antique mahogany table, carved from my great grandfather or something like that. Funny that the old man would carve a table. He was a musician in Mexico.

The Job is being a cook. I’ve only cooked for myself, and I’ve certainly never cooked professionally before, but the place just switched owners, and abandoned sh*thole of a restaurant, a vertiable ghost town. And I’m gonna be the new trainee. And I’m going to cook. I can feel the grease running down my ass all ready.

Gas is going up to four bucks a gallon now. It took the blasted thing long enough, and I’m not going to go to my D&D meet on friday because it’s on the other side of the city, and I can’t afford Gas. Friday Night Magic is on the other side too, but it’s closer. So I’ll get some cash with my trusty metal detector(quite handy for bashing someone’s head in) and go there in… one… two… three weeks.

Shit. I hope I’m really a moth in russia.