Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Oscar and ass glue

The airwaves, the print media, are filled with Oscar! My morning was contaminated by media. It started when I awoke: Oscar! Like the stench of fart ruins a meal, or the sound of a chronic tubercular cough from the fast food kitchen puts you off your coffee, so too did Oscar! contaminate my morning media reconnaissance. Who watches the Oscars, anyway? Men who wear make up and have fashion sense; women who understand the internal combustion engine; people who have Marx on the bookshelf; and the time keeping never worker whose days are spent sleeping and nights spent with junk food, fornicating, dope, and socialist uproar over first nations causes. Watching movies means subjecting yourself to the loathing of smug as turd on the sidewalk leftist Hollywood liberals; television is a constant picking at scabs; and the print media is about as enticing as a cesspool on a hot summers day. No, I do not watch Oscar! I do not frequent the movies it honors. Oscar! I know of nobody who has self-esteem who follows Oscar! Even my fellows who lead double lives working in the socialist social services sector despise Oscar! The incest that is Hollywood is the entertainment that conforms to the fairy cake world view of those born or whore'd into the post reality Bolshevism of the Golden Bourgeois. It neither entertains nor informs nor reflects reality. It sucks. Nobody is much interested in Oscar! but those in the studios and press rooms that think we should think in ways that support their cocaine lifestyle. Bah. I am here for revenge. I have no idea why Oscar! is thundering across the hollow can filled with pebbles that is the media. And then again, I have no idea why search engines associate my posts with the words "ass + glue". Oscar! and ass glue. Why?

There is one movie that made it to Oscar! that I was dimly aware of. I have not seen it. So, can I speak about it? I can tell you the effect I have observed. Maybe. Maybe not. I do not live in a country that has freedom of speech. Is Django a recruiting film for the Klan? The real Klan, not the uniform fetish crowd. The real racists, who kill people based on ethnicity. Not the fund raiser racists, who balk at confiscated income.

The life of Pi. It has some sort of Canadian connection the broken record of main stream media repeats over and over and over. And over. Every time I went past the movie theater in the shopping mall, there was never a line up for this movie. The graphics company that did the special effects went bankrupt.

Who am I to complain? I boycott the main stream media. I was ignorant of ass glue until the internet. Now, Oscar! is linked to ass glue in the algorithm space much as it is in real life.

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this. I care.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

The Plumber who could not fart

Ah, Calgary. Cold in winter. Filled with people. People whose plumbing backs up. This is where The Plumber lives, works, and plays. This plumber, he works for a living. No employment equity for him: no high pay, no high pension, no nap time. But The Plumber is resigned to his lot. It is for the best. He works with the public, you see. Baby mommas have sinks that clog; Welfare artists have drippy faucets; socialist social services sector have needs for new and fabulous fixtures. They pay, sometimes, in cash; which offsets the confiscation of income which pays for the baby mommas, the welfare artists, and the socialist social services sector paper passers that confiscate, dole, and spend. 'Cash is good,' says The Plumber. He is not known for conversation. In his free time, at home, he reads books, and he makes stuff in his basement workshop. Lately, he has been struggling with the miasma that is the Green movement. Working in a trade named after the hated, toxic, earth rapist element of lead (you know, plumbum is Latin for Lead, and the first pipes were made from lead, hence plumber) one should be concerned that the trade will go the way of the light bulb. At least, The Plumber is concerned. He is also worried about his health. Who is not these days? There is no scientific consensus about food safety: does tofu give you worms? But The Plumber has a personal worry: he can no longer fart.

Friday, February 22, 2013

Astrology and Murder

Your destiny is written in the stars. Murderer? How to murder, and the fate of the corpse.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Astrology and Zombies

Zombies have surfaced from the collective subconscious. Foreshadowing of the coming apocalypse? Perhaps. A metaphor for something else? Perhaps. Serious students of the occult should apply their arcane knowledge. Regardless, you can use astrology to prepare yourself. Others may scoff, but you can rest smug and superior when they get their heads cracked open and their brains scooped out. Astrology can answer the three basic questions that might trouble you about your zombie experience: where will I be when I find out, how will they get me, and your ultimate fate when you become a zombie.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

The Reactionary Impulse

After being told a lie what do you do? Do you know you have been lied to? The more important event is the realization you have been lied to. Being deceived is the inciting incident, yes. However it is the point at which you realize you have been lied to that sparks off the reaction. The reactionary impulse, so to speak. Now, not everyone who realizes they have been deceived react in exactly the same way. Some are 'co-dependent' and crawl back for more abuse. Some avoid, some adapt, and some seek to destroy their tormentors. To complicate our inquiry, we no longer live in a society that celebrates freedom of speech. People discovering the deceptions of the Statists, their whore media, their whore academia, and the whore bureaucracy; are rarely disposed to making public displays. It does not work, and the Statists, being bullies (er, tyrant) punish those that speak out against the plantation. Do I need to give examples? Heck no. I would much rather look at the reactionary impulse, what happens to those who have been pushed too far.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Valentines Day 2013

I woke up this glorious morning with the person I love. It is Valentine's Day, a day to celebrate love. There is a day of celebration planned: champagne and chocolates, flowers, and exchanges of presents. Sigh. This brings tears to my eyes. I can only hope and pray to Set, the Snake God, that you are as lucky as me: perhaps, luckier. Perhaps, though, you are not lucky at all. Has Set, the Snake God favored you as chef or waiter, or are you entree? Do you find yourself alone, wearing the garland of parsley and anointed with mayonnaise, weeping and waiting for the crushing jaws, the tearing claws, and the bad breath of carnivore? How sad. You look around and everyone you see appears to have the love of the love of their life. Why are you left in the icy cold meat locker on a hook when you should be up front, serving burgers; or better yet, creating new dishes with exciting foodstuffs and exotic spices? This Valentines Day you should look to Set, the Snake God to improve your circumstances. Your neighbors are doing it. Let me witness my Valentine's Day experience ...

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

The Broken Wand

The Department of Education has a SWAT team. Imagine that.  Well, amongst the cynical, this is nothing surprising.  Go out and talk to your Accelerationist buddies. Across the fruited plain, the police are gathering resources more war like and military than peace keeping and domestic.  Some say they are being equipped for tyranny.  Some say they are being bought off with toys.  Really?  Is it war, then?  The criminals are mobilizing, in numbers and munitions.  Are they?  All these martial preparations: the better question is 'are we preparing for the last war'?

Monday, February 11, 2013

How to do a love spell

I have to address this issue.  I am getting Google hits on an older piece I wrote. 

So, you want a love spell, eh?

Step one: Have your natal horoscope cast.  You will need to know the position by sign of your natal Venus and Mars.

Step two: Get a decent deck of tarot cards.  You will need the major trumps that represent Mars (The Lightning Struck Tower), and Venus (The Empress).

Step three: From your decent deck of tarot cards select the major trumps for the signs that Mars and Venus reside in. (Complications: if you have Venus and Mars in the same sign, see the Notes below)

Step four: construct a two by two matrix of cards in the following pattern:

  1. Planet, sign
  2. Sign, planet


This will bring your planets into equilibrium and bring you love.  It might not be who you think, and you cannot, using this method, target specific individuals. 

This method can also be used to bring equilibrium to your other planetary pairs.  If you recall the Arabian Parts school of astrology, you will remember that various pairs of the inner seven planets have domain over specific areas.  (Venus and Mars over love, for example). 

If your Venus and Mars are in the same sign, use, for the second sign, the sign opposite.

Sargon the Magnificent wrote this.

Monday Morning Manhunt

My Monday morning manhunt moment began with the disconcerting news that the manhunted is uncaught. Oh, any god but Christ, what is to become of us progressives, diversives, and other gendered? Wail, gnashing of teeth! Actually, the progressives, the diversives, and the other gendered are cheering the Batman Dark Knight figure of Chris Dorner on. Kinda reminds me of the leftist unrest that accompanied our leftist Ontario premier Bob Rae. Remember that, fellow citizens? Why are leftists (like Obama supporter Dorner) cooking off under the rule of their dreamboat leader? Oh well. There is no free speech in this country so public speculation is suppressed. (You might want to think about it, though: as in, a) is it true the lefties rise up under lefty leadership, and, b) is it possible [if (a) is true] to discourage and/or encourage these uprisings [a sub thought of (b) would be is it possible to direct these uprisings as to target and intensity]; and c) the general case of uprisings: what is the trigger, and can they be directed by target and intensity.) Actually, only a hypnotist with an interest in mass hysteria would be doing any sort of research into that. Anyway, there are other items in the mucked up manhunt to manure up my Monday morning.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Morning Manhunt

Saturday morning.  Haven't the forces of justice caught that white-black villain Christopher Dorner yet? And the guns, the guns. The guns made him do it. So, I get up on this glorious Global Warming Saturday, shovel the snow (soon to be ashes from Lake Winnipeg when it boils away) and expect to find the villain has been taken into custody, pending a fair trail, a tearful apology with Oprah, and the support of a tribe of baby mommas. No such luck. Instead, there is support for this latter day Rambo.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Angry Christopher Dorner

Have you had the opportunity to read Christoper Dorner's manifesto, yet?  An angry man, indeed.

I was shocked at the allegations of racism.  I was shocked at the insight into the diversity of hatreds in the progressive state.  Imagine that.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Awareness by the Unaware

Your public library has a diversity of awareness raising seminars and goings on. Inevitably, there is some government funding for whatever awareness group is out pushing brochures, literature, and a community college quality power point presentation. Your question is how can you attach your inner financial lamprey to this money trout that is government funding. A logical and reasonable person would want to know what sort of criteria are used to determine which awareness group gets funding, and which does not. There is no criteria. Just fill in the forms, and the check arrives. Finding the forms, the programs, and the byzantine criteria for filling out the forms is the challenge. As with all things government, having a friend inside helps. I went to the public library, your public library, to attend a government funded awareness seminar on farting.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Feeding Set, the Snake God by Proxy

Eating has a special place in the spiritual realm of followers of Set, the Snake God. Why not add something special to dog treat time and write the name of someone in need of spiritual uplifting through the mystical process of digestion upon a dog treat. Feed your problems to the wolf.

Monday, February 4, 2013

Public Library, Social Disease

I used to think the worst part of getting to the public library was taking public transit.  You know the public transit situation here in Toronto: it is a warm place in winter, air conditioned in summer, and dry all year long: so the insane that roam the streets between welfare check binges make it their place to work through the voices in their head.  After the insane, you have the criminals.  Sure, a person with a diversity of personalities will push you onto the tracks, but at least they have a bad smell and wardrobe that can alert the urban jungle dweller that there is a problem.  The criminals come in packs.  A new crop every spring (only the cold weather seems to thin out their ranks).  A discerning reader of the state media knows they are a problem: every transit rider can tell you of incidents of violence experienced or witnessed.  Yet there are never arrests for such pedestrian crimes.  The bright elite lights of progressive Toronto, when their progressive voters are snuffed out and eulogized by the progressive media, are known personally for public urination, spitting, and cell phone jacking.  The elites weep on their country estates under the watchful gaze of Lenin, Che, and Trudeau.  The working class is relieved: that dirty N-person who pissed on the Bloor line last August has gone to the great hip hop subway station in hell.  Such is transit.  You endure until you get to the library.  Now, it seems, the progressive voter has found their way into the book stacks.

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Happy Days in the Basement

In these progressive times, I spend my Happy Days down in the basement.  I spend my free time at hobbies, rather than get into to trouble with free speech. Going out into the world can get you into even more trouble, even death.  Public transit is a third world experience: roving madmen, er, madpersons; open borders socialist social parasites with a consistent liberal voting record; and a diversity of pathogens courtesy of a multicultural selection of cultures that disbelieve in the germ theory of disease.  It is racist to notice, don't you know.  Keep your eyes down, like a Saxon in the presence of your Norman liege.  The over represented N-people need only hallucinate your muttering of the forbidden N-word to the white guilt slurping judge to get a few years shaved from the sentence for cracking your skull and spilling your teeth.  So, to the basement I prefer to go.  And my friends, the people I trust, they do the same thing.  Today is Saturday, and there are many of them doing projects in the basement.  Why get into trouble?