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Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Bad news: Each of us just became roughly 2-3 billion people less relevant



Just a quick link to an excellent, grimly poetic article by Karl (Say No to Life) on the latest horrible news:

ARRRR

China is relaxing its one-child policy. The "liberal left thought police" are apparently thrilled with this coup for their idea of human rights, which apparently entails the right to do whatever stupid thing you want without thinking for a second about the consequences, and the state has to support you even if you failed so drastically to anticipate the future that you can't even feed the child you brought into this world because, just because because. (Because rights! Because I'm bored! Cannon fodder! The more the merrier!) But as Karl points out, even Joe Average looks a little nervous as the head count ticks higher. When there are ten billion people here, who's going to give a shit about you, Joe?





Let's think about the absurdity of a billion redundant people, with roughly the same biologically and then culturally dictated take on life, living in just one single country. Then they (or their overlords; but aren't said overlords just responding to the popular desire to drown their girl babies so their sons can have nice, long lives as miserable virgins?) go and decide that they don't care if there are yet more of them trampling on each other's souls just as long as each unique ME snowflake gets two MINI-ME snowflakes, a matching set, a meaningless boy and a hopeless girl. Hm. It kind of makes me want to throw up my hands and go overdose on Tylenol. You're too nightmarishly short-sighted and selfish, grape apes, and ya never seem to change, no matter how many gadgets your rare geniuses equip you with.

But don't get your hopes up, thought police, pro-choice and pro-life alike.

I'm going to tough it out as long as it takes to annoy as many people as possible. Cause I ain't even depressed. I'm just too well aware of how much worse I could have had it. (And how much worse it looks likely to get.)





8 comments:

  1. Thanks, Ann. I'm still surprised by how much the news actually viscerally depressed me. I suppose no matter how much one knows the dumb ass nature of the species in the abstract, when you see it action it still has the power to deflate. Oh well...

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  2. I'm depressed. Very, actually. There's after all nothing to hold on to, when being even less relevant than redundant. And despite his suspected intellectual laziness, I can sympathise with that lifelong miserable virgin, for it is indeed better never to have desired: I was alot happier the less I had grown into a person.
    But maybe that's because I'm waywardly not on Meaning Pills.

    Perhaps a statement could be made by obscuring last names, for these heirlooms only validate the make-believe of a transcendent "Me". I have the impression that said Mini-Me's are chiefly man's commodity and that that isn't a mere correlated coincidence that occurred under the ancient Romans aswell.

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    1. Yes, the three and four barrelled Roman name, Gaius Lucius Crassus Caesar, walking monument to his big dick, big money progenitors. Somehow if all were designated by numbers, I couldn't see the testosterone apes getting quite as pleasure from the whole ghastly business. A pronatalist friend to whom I spoke of the world's woes the other day nodded sagely and said, 'Yes, I am genuinely worried about the fate of my descendants'. There speaks the primal Ape.

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    2. I'm worried about the fate of my descendants too, that's why I'm not bringing them here.

      I should have perhaps specified: I'm not depressIVE, i.e. I don't have a "brain chemical imbalance"; I'm just reacting rationally to what's around me. If you're not disturbed, then you're DISTURBED, in the euphemistic, bat-shit crazy sense.

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    3. What's the difference between depressed and depressive? For, is there such a thing as a "balanced brain"? The arbitrariness of our every feeling and the ephemeral moods we all know, would tell us that, other than for distinguishing incoherent thought, "imbalanced" would apply to every single brain. They all run on chemical torrents and it's only society's prejudice that singles out defaults that fall outside of the norm as faulty.
      Our worry is but an inclination averse to the inclination of irresponsible self-indulgence, bringing about an addition of opposite imbalances that less-or-more cancel each other out, at least enough for reason to tilt the scales in the end. But who's to truthfully say what sum of inclinations does or does not equal the output of a "balanced brain", say a disposition redressed towards rationality, based on its inclinations themselves and not on the rational conclusions they permit?

      Personally, I'm not exactly worried about my hypothetical descendants, rather, I am worried about having to worry about them or otherwise not care enough about them. In case of the former, I would have betrayed them and my best intentions towards all I would hold dear in advance, as I would have delivered them to harm and bondage, and in case of the latter, I would have caused myself almost asmuch as them great burden for dirtied hands. Forethought let me understand that any outcome involving descendants would be a disfavour to all.

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    4. I suppose there is some sort of difference between those who are clinically depressed and cannot function 'normally' and are unable to understand why, as they have a default philosophy of 'life is good'. Perhaps their brains are trying to ram through the layers of social programming?

      One thing I've never understood and which is stated by even those who appreciate the meaninglessness of it all is 'Well, you can't sit around doing nothing!' To me, that option, bar suicide, has always seemed the ONLY wise and rational reaction to the circumstances in which we find ourselves.

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    5. Yes, but then you get told you made life bad - all by yourself, no less. Apparently, if you spend most of it on bad experiences (eating your vegetables, do routine exercises, bite your lip, work hard and so on), you seize the good life. Common sense works in mysterious ways.

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    6. -Chuckle- I guess I was just having a delayed sarcastic reaction to a memory of a therapist who was once forced upon me... who explained slowly and condescendingly (as if everyone and their brother hasn't heard this hypothesis-treated-as-a-theory before) that all my bad thoughts were the result of brain cells on the blink. Wait, when my brain cells tell me I'm a slave when I have no choice but to work some useless bullshit job to survive, that means they're NOT working properly? Hang on...

      But yeah, Karl, I see what you're saying in the first paragraph there. "Life is good, life is good!... only I'm so sad I'm slowing down to the speed of a sloth in tar, and I can't put my finger on why..."

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