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 (nobody)...and 94 guests Last 5 registered Oplandisks nothingstar N_loop yipe foxtrotromeo Browse members... |
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Members 8025Messages 2608907 Today 1 Topics 127234 |
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good for the germs |
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germany was probably always the better option for a an economical sense I reckon |
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What counts is that roger Wilco is safe. |
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Because we all want to work in a fucking car factory. |
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Don't you just... I dunno, 3D print these motherfuckers anyway? |
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Yes, because that’s what it all boils down to. |
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Above your safety, and cultural heritage. Which clearly is in trouble. Let’s just not let “them” come, and let’s not work with “them”. We don’t need “them”. |
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I dunno about you but I can imagine Roger goose stepping with Oswald Mosley, I bet his fave film is green street ! |
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Notorious Bigo? |
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The Midlands are mainly made up of "them" already. |
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statistics plz, that sounds like bullshit. i'm assuming yr referring to non-whites as "them" so fling that back as "making my own assumptions much, hmmm?!?!?" if you like but yr implication is obvious a quick google sez whites make up 82.7% of the west midlands, birmingham - 70.4% white, bradford - 63% white if you fancy calling out those as ghettos. so yeah, yr full of it i'm afraid |
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Such quaint faith in statistics and facts. FAKE NEWS!!!! In other news, my ongoing DDoS attack on XLT seems to be working. |
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roger is mad because the four supposedly government mandated "child refugees" who share his bedsit eat funny Eritrean food and it makes their cum taste funny. "Why won't you lads have some crisps," he rages. |
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and by "child refugees" in scare quotes I mean grown ass men with big meaty cocks as roger likes them |
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My landlord was a refugee, fleeing Somalia because he was a gay. He sold pens on the streets for two years and then bought his own property portfolio. His 3 wives and their 24 children make wonderful company. One's reminded of the T.S. Eliot's poem "Gerontion". |
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I draw particular attention to the lines "An old man in a draughty house Under a windy knob." |
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That's, to put all irony aside, a great poem. I should read more poetry, I have a collection of Eliot somewhere (not Cats), and some Sylvia Plath. The nice thing about poetry is you can't fake it. You can fake a novel, but a poem is so condensed that if you have nothing worthwhile to say it exposes itself. No pun intended. (or is it?) |
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Yeah, not "Cats". I had a bit of a thing with T.S. Eliot this year, for once boned up on a subject a bit deeper(?) than usual, reading the poems and books about him, including Anthony Julius's "T.S. Eliot, Antisemitism and Literary Form" (to educate myself more on the matter, not to use it as a fucking Guide Book on How to Thinly Disguise One's Antisemitism (SPOILER: He gets off lighter than Ezra Pound, but not much, gets the literary shit kicked out of him for "Burbank with a Baedeker: Bleistein with a Cigar", a poem I don't understand!?!?!)) For all the Literary, Historical, Biblical, Mythological references, there are a lot references to quite obscure, ephemeral things from his own time, things that we have well forgotten. I do find "The Waste Land" thrilling, and the ending gives me shivers. I know this is just setting me up to be mocked my Muhmentionsman. I am beyond caring: "Between the idea And the reality Between the motion And the act Falls the Shadow" |
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I don't care about a writer's written or lived sins as long as he's a good writer and says something worth thinking about, even if I think he's absolutely and utterly wrong about everything. The most boring and stupid person I ever knew said that he only read things he thought would help him. Eliot is probably best read on a computer now-a-days where you can right click to look up words and references quickly... I studied The Waste Land in school and I still mostly don't geddit. |
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i want to share apoem i like too: "between roger's bum cheeks fell the shadow of THE approaching penis" |
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thank you *sits down* |
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haha |
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̷̪̣́͌i̴̝͔͛n̷̥͎̐f̷̢̲̌͘ị̸̂̈́n̸̫̗͝i t̸̙̾h̴̯̽̓e̵͓̭̾̀ ̟̂t̶̢͊̐e̷͈̊͝ ̴̧͉͌́v̵̭͚̀o̴̦͋̋í̵͈d̶̺̲́̍. |
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i showed this to a historian friend of mine and he said it meant “i love throbbing penis.” in ancient egypt |
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ordered a lot of stuff at arcadeworld.uk not sure if i will if/after taxes come to effect also i would pay off a tesla model s within 71 years, with rates of my monthly allowance of 100€. |
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i would be 111 years old by then or leave the task to the future generation |
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what did you get from arcadeworld? |
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everything to fill a cab: two sanwa joysticks, 24 buttons (different colors to switch), switches, connection harness, i-pac2, coin door, 1p+2p buttons, t-mold. they didnt have the coin comparator in stock, so i had to order that someplace else, but they restocked. cab is great fun with old crt and obsolete xp machine, my brother cant get enough of galaga, i turned out to be a pacmaniac :) initially i built it to play all those beat em ups/brawlers and shmups ive never gotten to due to the "arcade ban/18 over only" situation in germany |
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Hey, instead of fawning over fascists, why don't you folks try reading some real poetry for a change |
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Western Culture's like catnip for White Supremacists !?!? Read some fucking Maya Angelou and Wake👏The👏Fuck👏Up👏👏👏 |
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Sow Sylvia Plath God knows how our neighbor managed to breed His great sow: Whatever his shrewd secret, he kept it hid In the same way He kept the sow--impounded from public stare, Prize ribbon and pig show. But one dusk our questions commended us to a tour Through his lantern-lit Maze of barns to the lintel of the sunk sty door To gape at it: This was no rose-and-larkspurred china suckling With a penny slot For thrift children, nor dolt pig ripe for heckling, About to be Glorified for prime flesh and golden crackling In a parsley halo; Nor even one of the common barnyard sows, Mire-smirched, blowzy, Maunching thistle and knotweed on her snout- cruise-- Bloat tun of milk On the move, hedged by a litter of feat-foot ninnies Shrilling her hulk To halt for a swig at the pink teats. No. This vast Brobdingnag bulk Of a sow lounged belly-bedded on that black compost, Fat-rutted eyes Dream-filmed. What a vision of ancient hoghood must Thus wholly engross The great grandam!--our marvel blazoned a knight, Helmed, in cuirass, Unhorsed and shredded in the grove of combat By a grisly-bristled Boar, fabulous enough to straddle that sow's heat. But our farmer whistled, Then, with a jocular fist thwacked the barrel nape, And the green-copse-castled Pig hove, letting legend like dried mud drop, Slowly, grunt On grunt, up in the flickering light to shape A monument Prodigious in gluttonies as that hog whose want Made lean Lent Of kitchen slops and, stomaching no constraint, Proceeded to swill The seven troughed seas and every earthquaking continent. |
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nice one excellent, I have a arcade joystick with sanwa buttons, one of the best things I ever bought. one thing I know about german censorship is that carmageddon had zombies with green blood in it rather than people with red blood |
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I'm glad we've got into poetry. Raises the tone. |
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"one thing I know about german censorship is that carmageddon had zombies with green blood in it rather than people with red blood" Yeah, that and the Holocaust, amirite!!??!?!? |
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I think they are going through the guilt phase still and over compensating, the Japanese are still in denial over stuff like the rape of Nanking and comfort women & that unit 731 |
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I recall watching something about "Unit 731", or maybe reading it, where they did live "autopsies" and this Jap said at first you were reticent to do it, then the second time it wasn't so bad, and by the third you were practically volunteering... Funny race. |
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I prefer the raw emotional power of poets like Rupi Kaur and Lang Leav. Maya Angelou is great but a lot of her poetry kinda goes over my head. Nothing against the intellectual stuff though, gotta give it the respect it deserves. |
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very macabre I couldn't perform an autopsy on a dead fruit fly |
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lol why did you remind me of rupi kaur, wretched stuff |
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shvegliaaa |
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