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?

Some people, they keep busy making stuff.  You can write software, games.  You can do HTML and improve your employment prospects or take control over the image of your small business.  You can work with saw and drill and make machines.  One friend is an amateur machinist.  Who works as a machinist today?  He makes machines.  He reads blueprints, understands grades of steel, can work to tolerances, and will talk to you for hours about the alloying of spring steel.  He taught himself.  Life long learning, a success of the progressive educational system.  Maybe not.  The progressives dumbed down the education system in the  hopes that the dumb as mud N-people would stay out of prison for enough election cycles for some Red Comrade to get elected.  Having white racists in the basement teach themselves manufacturing methods for STEN guns might not be what they intended.  But what is the problem?  Does the Red Star complain about it?  Nope.  Not a problem.  Back to your lathe, white racist basement machinist.

Some people work with computers.  You can spend endless hours in your basement puttering on the 'puter. You learn things.  Not to be a hacker, of course.  Being a hacker is bad (unless you are a leftist: but anything bad a leftist does is good, a la mode Aaron Swartz), but you can develop a wide and deep knowledge base.  One friend of mine (not the machinist) likes to follow the careers of notable, er, semi-notable desk champions of  the progressive movement.  This friend I refer to became obsessed with the professors who signed the Duke lacrosse petition.  That is where it started, anyway.  He harvested, data mined, all sorts of trivia about them.  I still remember the floor plans he had of some campus building or the other which had named pictures of them pinned to their office location.  He would pour over their teaching schedule (by time and class room) and look for patterns.  After a summer in the basement he ran into an American pyjama fascist who had a larger obsession for this area of study and passed over his data.  They had a meeting in Buffalo, under the radar.   Now he is watching a select list of leftists who live, teach, and shop at the University of Toronto.  At least I think so, based on the scale model of the U of T he has in his basement, covered with pictures; and schedules and notes pinned to cork board on the wall.  It does keep his white racist ass off the street, inciting hallucinating N-people into reporting they heard the N-word to the judge when charged with pushing someone onto the tracks or whatever it is N-people do when they lash out against under funding of social programs.

Me, I like to socialize in the basement.   Yesterday, I had my machinist friend and my computer enthusiast friend over for beer, food, and conversation. So we all have an alibi for the firebombing of the Anarchist book store in London (not Ontario) that groovy friend of Aaron Swartz was all upset about on his blog.  See what hanging out in the basement does for you?  Not only do you get to learn about spring alloy steel, listen to voice mail messages between professors and their bum boys, you also get an alibi.  No mischief here.  Too bad we did not know about the fire bombing.  It would have made a great topic of gossip.  Who would want to fire bomb an Anarchist book store?  White male racist fascists, obviously.  I hope the flood of funding the Anarchists get can help them with their spending goals.  Next time they get firebombed, let us hope the white male racist fascists are sensible enough to leave some swastikas and apple pie laying around, a la mode Tawana Brawley.  Then the groovy anarchists will get more funding.

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.  I care.