Word from the Dark Side – Whinging Nik, the Woke Cult, a Whiteness List, and Wild Japan.

https://grapee.jp/en/wp-content/uploads/13211_7.jpg

I know, I know.  I do have a life, you will be shocked to hear.  I’m not some algorithm that pumps out breathtaking content thrice a week like a sexbot for your mind.  I am only flesh and blood, with problems like anyone else.  In fact, I’m only posting now as an excuse to have a good whinge.

I’m still bloody well stuck on this remote Indonesian island.  I’ve had three flights cancelled so far, now waiting to hear the bad news about flight No. 4.  I’m trying to get home to sunny Vladivostok, but the Soviet government has halved the number of passengers allowed into the country, which means there’s bugger-all flights to be had for love or money, plus the outbreak in my home town means I can’t fly directly there, have to go via Leningrad, plus they now make us pay 3,000 rubles for our own two-week quarantine.  Khrushchev said we’ve had long enough to get home, not acknowledging that some of us haven’t been able to get back to the Fatherland despite our best efforts, and some of us still can’t because of these absurd restrictions they keep changing on a whim.

Some of my content will be locked down for a while as I need to fly back via hostile, capitalist states.  New content will be limited.  I’ve made some old stuff sticky and it seems to be getting clicks – guess there are a lot of newbs dropping by who haven’t read it yet.  Speaking of old posts, there’s something in the works with that stuff.

I was meant to have a simple, holiday romance, but now events have conspired, she gradually, ever so gradually, moved in with me, she’s scared to sleep at her boarding house because all the other girls have gone home and it’s next to a prison and she got burgled recently.  For a month or so that was fine, but now it’s stretching into an extended six-month goodbye with all the tears and drama that go with not promising to come back.

You might recall about a year ago I was celebrating my newfound freedom after being stuck in a hellhole for two years.  More than anything, I hate being stuck.  I sacrificed much to be free.  This, my American friends, is what we mean when we use the term ‘irony’ – I’m now stuck more thoroughly than I ever have been before, more stuck than I ever imagined possible.

Before coming here I checked out the possibility of getting kidnapped by Moro pirates or the NPA because that would have been ironic, but I didn’t see this one coming.

The best laid schemes of mice and men.

Perhaps the gods are building my intestinal fortitude, years in Equatorial Guinea apparently not having done the job.

I should not be getting stressed about this.  There are people trapped in the big smoke who can’t get back to their home villages because they can’t afford the required Covid test.  They are without jobs, can’t meet the rent, struggle to get food, and the government doesn’t give two shits about them.  There are people doing it tough.  I have a nice room in a quiet town and home-cooked meals.  Alright God, I’ll give you that one.  This doesn’t mean we’re friends.

My health has still been poor, but I’m starting to wonder if it might be psychosomatic.  I feel better when I get a ticket, worse when it’s cancelled.  Won’t bother a doctor just yet.

Must reread my post on How to chill under stress.  Must be resilient.  Harden the fuck up.  That one was pretty good.  Got no likes from you bastards.

And now you’re whinging that my intro to the Dark Side is too long, immediately after you were whinging about my lack of content.  Tough crowd.  I should give it up and do a podcast instead.  Hour-long episodes with no topic and 18-second pauses between clauses.

If you read Unz then you’re probably as bored by Fred Reed as I am.  Every now and then, though, he posts something brilliant.  This is such a thing.  He writes about how mechanization has already caused mass unemployment, and explains the funny ways this is hidden.

Down in Africa, Corona-chan really is making a mess of the Eastern Cape hospital system.  The article explains the corruption and maladministration that has led up to this, but I can’t help feeling there’s some other issue they tip-toe around.

Inverted Logic helpfully reminds us of the Stoic response to ‘What ifs’ and wasted time.  I quit Twitter again, by the way.

A blogger I used to link here now writes at Middle American Literature, and his new posts are a fresh breeze of reason.  I won’t mention his old blog as he may be trying to turn a page.

Boxer looks sideways at some of de Nero’s life choices.  There are many like this.

de_niro

The Irish Savant, meanwhile, examines the results of aggressive affirmative action at Cambridge.

Steve Sailer has been especially prolific of late.  Here’s a post about how Brahmin Indians in Silicon Valley discriminate against Dalits (not yet a protected class in the US), and a Luther-like list of ‘white traits’ put up by the Smithsonian.  The worthwhile comment:low IQ comment ratio on his blog is good.

The Cult Dynamics of Wokeness.  Also a reminder that Sargon did a good video of a subgroup within Antifa that really is a plain old cult, by any definition.

Despite my distrust of David Cole, I’ve been linking him a lot lately.  Here he talks about the myths that led to the riots.

I found Pat’s thoughts on all that nonsense interesting.

On the same nuttiness, Education Realist ponders when his number will be up.

If you’re more visual, you might like Didact’s Monday links.  He focuses more on videos and memes.  The graphics tend to crash my phone like dancing bananas gifs used to crash Netscape on my P2, but with your First World bandwidth it will be fine.

Meanwhile in Japan, a fat girl makes posters encouraging other fat girls to intervene when pretty girls get groped on the train.

You might think Japanese pron is odd, but the strangest thing of all is that you have to pixelate genitalia.  Some evil nudity was present in a DVD delivery ring and suspects were apprehended.  Yes, DVDs.

Rapey eels and octopi are fine but be sure to pixelate the region they are violating.  And don’t get them stuck on your face.

For a J-lad wanting to set eyes on the real thing, what is there to do?  One enterprising fellow tried slashing car tires so he could offer assistance and get to know the lady, but that only ended in arrest.  Twice, as it happened, because he’s done it more than a thousand times.  A thousand more ’til he meets his paramour.

Also available on many other platforms.

13 comments

  1. collegereactionary · July 17

    And the name of this plus-sized activist? Marie Egbuchulam. A real yamato nadeshiko I bet.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Philip H Gattey · July 17

    O stop w the yodeling moaning about “likes” on yr posts. You are a great and go to writer.
    There is no obligation to applaud . But I might buy you a beer.

    Like

  3. Kentucky Headhunter · July 17

    HTFU is something I’m familiar with from doing endurance racing (Ironman and the like), though I think the physical part is much easier compared to the mental aspects of just making yourself keep going.

    “That’s the problem with dating girls in their early twenties. They don’t act like human beings until they start getting old enough to be ugly.”

    A very good line, but I’m not sure they ever start acting like human beings, at least not rational ones.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. dickycone · July 17

    Oh, just marry her. It’ll be fun.

    Liked by 1 person

    • L. Beau Macaroni · July 17

      That advice reads like it was typed out by seven whiskey cocktails which had just taken human form.

      Liked by 2 people

  5. L. Beau Macaroni · July 17

    A lot to digest here. So far, I have read only two of your links, but here are some thoughts.

    Bobby DeNiro: that’s straight red-pill right there. No water, no chaser.

    Harden the Fuck Up: Not a bad essay. It reminded my of one of my older male relatives. He grew up in a rural part of the USA, the son of a sharecropper*. Went to war (Vietnam), became the first in his family to earn a college degree (B.S. in mechanical engineering.) Does enough DIY projects to have become a decent amateur carpenter (I believe that he earned cash as a carpenter’s assistant as a teen.) Still grows his own vegetable garden even though he is well over 70 years old. One of the toughest men I know.

    And he complains, constantly. He drops a piece of stainless steel flatware on the kitchen floor, and a small squadron of curses sallies forth. He presses the wrong button on his TV remote, another shouted curse. I remember one Sunday when I was in high school, I ran from the room in which I was studying, because I had heard such a cry of pain from the room where he was watching TV. I thought that he might have broken a bone, and the tough older gent might have actually needed my middle-teen help. No dice. The NFL team for which he was rooting for had missed an extra point kick. That was what his yell of anguish was about.

    My point: Ordinary misery is a part of everyone’s life. And everyone except those near sainthood complain about it. Toughness doesn’t mean that you do not feel misery, it means that you have the ability to endure it with some dignity.

    *Yes, the USA has white sharecroppers.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Nikolai Vladivostok · July 17

      I know someone like that. Some people have a permanent baseline of misery regardless of circumstances, and they want everyone to know about it.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Miu · July 18

    Motherfucker, your blessed powers of prose bang out such gems as, “I’m not some algorithm that pumps out breathtaking content thrice a week like a sexbot for your mind.”
    Think I’ll withhold my petering well of sympathy from such a talent shacked up with some wet lips. I’m always elated to see that you post! Since 2017. You *poor* thing.

    Like

    • Bardelys the Magnificent · July 18

      The beatings will continue until morale improves.

      Like

  7. Nikolai Vladivostok · July 19

    Goodness, everyone’s got an opinion today.

    Like

    • Miu · July 19

      You tend to gravitate toward obtuse/dangerous places. I like to think we’re all happy to see you.

      Like

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