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An Erratic Orbit

A bipolar perspective on the 3rd planet

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Sex

The algorithmist – It’s a Facebook Thing

Try giving this post the angry emoticon. Unless you are a breastfeeding keep your tits in Hitler was right about one thing. British values. Poor Jayda. Can’t stand em. moslems moslems moslems do you have to do it in public? Breast milk is free. You sell baby food. From the industrial revolution to good old Maggie sinking the Belgrano and beyond lefty scum wining bloody remoaners, tits have gone out of fashion. Not Civilised. Get back in the kitchen. 1950s was the time. Good old keep em in your blouse no blacks and buy Buy Buy babyfood.

Then the Krays. In my day we was safer. Two fifties and straight to the seventies. Proper gentlemen, rape your arse, and change for five bob. Oi that’s my watch. But I bought-

Crackle crackle burning flesh.

Counterculture and feminism bloody feminism. Cultural Marxism more like. What’s all these breastfeeding articles and Marxism crap in me feed. Feed me mama. Behold the rise of the human billboard. That’s you mate. Breast milk is free. Keep yer tits in.

Advertising shits in your head
image: revoltdesign.org

The new ellipsis moslems moslems moslems

You are free to sell baby food, to eat baby food, only what baby likes. Don’t like this.

Why do you think that? You don’t. think

you’re so clever and classless and free

admit it you fucked up. When will you accept yourself. Smart animal not as smart as he thinks. In the instructions go. Out the advert comes. Baby food.

Breast milk is free. You will shit babyfood adverts. You’re so free. You’ve taken back control. This is Control. We can’t market breast milk. You hate breastfeeding in public. Puts you off your baby food.

Sweet dreams John, Mike, Bill, Adam, Brian, Hal, Steve, Dave.

Johnboard. Mikeboard. Poor Bill. Sweet dreams.

Arbeit Macht Frei. My little human billboards. And not forgetting the indignant Lexiteers. 

This post sponsored by the sickly dream that brown sugary fizzwater makes you happy:

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Tits and Socialism

What do you want from me? How much is conscious? 

Think of privilege as power. You have power, and the ethics of power are: give it away, let it flow. 

Empowerment of course. One can easily think, when others have so much more or appear to have so much more, “I am weak.” A man who lost so much, through no fault but fate, might subliminally resist full acceptance of the fact  that in some contexts fate favours him. Fate though, is not cruel, nor a person at all. 

Privilege is the power to do with greater freedom. What a dull relationship where we only look for what we have in common. Who would grow? Vive la difference.

How conscious the clothes? Unzippable. Bait, eventually, gets boring, though. I’m honest about what I want and who I am, I think. You seem to be genuine. This all seems organic. But then the man said “Tits and Socialism” and the piece was created. 

So much positive but how can I, erratic, know we are at least on the same page? 

New brooms scrub where others might not be able to penetrate. We are/are not talking about stone, and so there will be soreness, rawness exposed. I find these days I face myself, male, what misogyny remains, and the changes seem to be for the better. There are, though, no guarantees. 

 

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