Good Day

Sawdust, the peculiar scent,

Chickens clucking in the distance,

The cat seeps on a canvas tarp,

And I’m pleased with how the day went.

Sometimes I simply don’t have a whole lot to say, so it’s better to say little and let the rest be said by the silence.


Adam Smith laid out how wealth is made,

Bastiat proved the basis for law,

Hyac uncovered the road to serfdom with ink spade,

Socrates died so truth by questions we could draw,

Mises discovered what how choices are weighed,

Marcus Aralias taught how to bear the last straw,

Yet you lecture me on something you did not read.


The oldest laws that have stood the test of time,

Do not take what does not belong to you,

Violating an exclusive claim is the basis of crime,

Across all situations this is true,

Advancement is really just application to those who upwards climb,

And to things excepted without their due,

Yet you lecture me on something you did not read.


The profit motive is to ensure gain,

Win-win can be found in lands of liberty,

The one with the power to say no shall truly reign,

Only with force can anybody violate morality,

To accuse those who’ve done naught of evil shall only bring pain,

Robbing by aid of government is evil’s victory,

And you lecture me on something you did not read.


If wealth was created by honest means,

If through saving or windfall or inheritance it’s got,

Then you have no right to the wealth or the machines,

You have no right to thieve what someone else has wrought,

To use the state is to confess you’re short on beans,

And is a betrayal of the values for which our ancestors died and fought,

And you lecture me on something you did not read.


When the incentive to throttle is not there,

When agile competitors are allowed to nip at those cooperate heels,

You’ll find that those big businesses will raise a scare,

And you’ll find that they argue based on how it feels,

Look beyond the surface and be aware,

And they’ll make their emotional appeals,

And you lecture me on something you did not read.

Net Neutrality is currently necessary.  I don’t think that it’s in the interests of ISPs to throttle certain websites, but industry insiders are certainly apprehensive about it.  However, in a system of liberty, the only profitable situation is win-win.  Isn’t that fantastic?  One of the most dangerous vices facing Mankind harnessed in the service of the good, as defined by all parties engaging in a voluntary transaction.  But what about M-m-m-monopolies?!  The only way for a monopoly to survive is to be enforced by the state (which itself is a monopoly on the initiation of force) and those that exist in an open market are quickly out-competed by smaller, more nimble firms.  Even the era of Robber Barons in the US was incredibly cutthroat, and marked by overnight millionaires and innovators driving old money to the poor house.  Looking back on the Industrial Revolution, some measure of oversight would have been a good thing, seeing as some of these Robber Barons did in fact earn their name, mostly by robbing people of their land when they thought they could get away with it.  I support Net Neutrality only so long as it is necessary, and I do not expect it to be necessary for very long, considering that the market is a harsh and unforgiving place.  ISPs would hang themselves if they lost their big clients, the Googles and Netflixs of the net, considering that their paying customers would flock to competitors in droves just to get their Netflix.   So: Net Neutrality is currently good, and you ought to contact the FCC to let them know it’s not the time to scrap it.  Or at least come up with a better system first.  On the other hand, if they scrap it anyway, it probably won’t be the end of the Internet.  How can I tell?  People raising an alarm about the end of anything are almost always spectacularly wrong.


The sun beats down,

The fan just drones on,

I refuse to frown,

Today is for brawn,

Let sweat wet my crown.


There’s work to be done,

So ignore that pain,

I’m the only one,

To strive for the gain,

Day’s gone ‘ere begun.


Smiling with a sigh,

Wipe salt from my brow,

Good work in my eye,

So off to bed now,

Wake again to try.

Unfortunately, I didn’t write anything yesterday, so have a short one.  I find hard work rewarding, even when it hurts.  It often hurts.  The feeling of tools in my calloused hands, the well-worn boots on my feet, the sweat dripping from my brow, the dull ache in my muscles, it’s all very pleasant in a strange way.  I’m happy to know your thoughts on the subject below.  I’ll write something good tonight and you’ll have it tomorrow.


Chat every day,

With words play,

Laughter our prey,

Serious without delay,

Careful to say,

Glad you’re okay.


I promise to,

Speak ever true,

Without much ado,

Mistakes owned too,

Myself to imbue,

Friendship must ensue.


Stumbling in dark,

Despair a shark,

Light’s too stark,

Wounds your mark,

Pain your hark,

Where’s your arc?


Friends can try,

It’s no lie,

You may cry,

They might pry,

Just to ally,

Love is why.


You might fear,

Letting us near,

Seeing it clear,

We’re the mere,

Listeners in here,

Offering our cheer.


We may fail,

Or may prevail,

Friends may avail,

In tragic tale,

Of heart frail,

In hope inhale.

There is a dark road that leads to a place that nobody wishes to be.  If you find your feet along that path, there is no shame in reaching out for help and guidance.  Those around you might not be the best to help you, but they are certainly better than nothing at all.


Once shattered the glass cannot be mended,

Once broken the soul will never heal,

It doesn’t matter how you feel,

Your line of reasoning must be ended.


In the first place physical injury is guaranteed,

A body unready for adult action,

Muscles torn and bones crushed for your perverse need,

But you think you can justify it by mere attraction.


The mind has yet to conceive of love and lust,

The child will comply in return for mere affections,

There is a such a thing as the abuse of trust,

But you try to convince us of deep connections.


The soul is built one block upon another,

Among those sexuality comes late,

It is their growth your actions shall surly smother,

But you have the gall to accuse the rest of hate.


Those you succeed in “loving” develop dysfunction,

They may even go on to continue your cycle of harm,

And you raise an eyebrow to our unanimous compunction,

And smile wolfishly while seeking to the shepherds disarm.


Do not be mistaken by tolerance of your words,

For the second you act you shall find justice terrible and swift,

You should fear when the peaceful draw their swords,

And if you come out the other side then be thankful for our gift.

Okay guys, this one’s going to be uncomfortable.  We’re going to talk about sex.  Some caveats: Any action between consenting adults is fundamentally none of my business, no matter how degenerate, gross, or baffling it may be in the daylight; I do not think that the stat has any business policing sexuality; I would prefer that sex and sexuality staid in the bedroom.  We good?  Good.  Now, the trouble with all that starts when children get involved.  No, I’m not going to go on a crusade against the pornography peddlers, or the amateurs doing it for free for that matter.  It’s the responsibility of the parents to shelter their children from harm.  There is something to be said for helping parents with that task by providing tools, but that’s not the discussion I’m getting involved in.  No, now that all of the nonsense is taken care of, let’s talk about predators.  As you probably guessed by my poem, I have some real objections to “pedosexuality” or as it more honestly called in the DSM5: pedophilia. What makes a boxing match sport and not assault?  What makes the difference between employment and slavery?  What makes sex making love and not rape?  Consent.  Children cannot consent.  This is physical reality.  Children simply have yet to develop the cognitive ability to process the significance of their actions, which is why we forgive them for hitting each other, and taking things that belong to others.  That is why we give children significant leeway to make mistakes with softened consequences, and protect them from choices that have negative consequences that cannot be avoided.  Like death and disfigurement for instance, which by the bye, is a significant risk for boys and girls as old as nine when victimized by an adult man.  Which is the other side to my physical argument: not only are children physically incapable of consent, they are physically incapable of sex.  Their bodies are incapable of sexual function until puberty, and even after puberty still occupy a “danger zone” as the rest of their body matures to its full size.  While children are still children, they quite literally lack any sex drive whatsoever.  This is a fact.  It has yet to emerge.  And even during puberty when it is emerging, the adolescents are still vulnerable both physically and mentally.  It is now scientifically proven (as if it needed to be) that personality doesn’t change with growth, it merely builds upon itself.  There is a one hundred percent injury rate to personality development in those who are exposed to sexual abuse as children in any degree.  One.  Hundred.  Percent.  As anybody with the most rudimentary understanding of psychology can tell you, the earlier the trauma occurs, the more far reaching its effects shall be, both in a temporal sense and in the sense of scope.  If you have sexual contact with a child at all in any way, you are causing injury in every possible way to the most vulnerable members of any society.  If anybody makes me hunt down links to back up my claims I shall become rather perturbed, and I shall drop every convention of civil discourse.

Oh, and just in case you’re feeling curious and impervious to sudden suicidal impulses, look up HeartProgress.

Creeper News Network

A blood dripping head is just art,

Making a play at assassination is just speech,

Don’t dare object when Hitler comparisons start,

There’s no hyperbole out of their reach,

Weaving lies is their art.


Let no jest about these pass you lips,

Paint nothing showing them in unflattering light,

Their power is something to which you must come to grips,

They know themselves to be too big to fight,

They compare their towers to steel warships.


They will hunt down those who dare poke their sore,

It matters not if the joke is true,

It matters not if the world knows the score,

They’ll do all they can to make you rue,

They’ll bully you into not posting anymore.

After defending (for a single day before realizing how retarded it was) Kathy Griffin for her cultural appropriation of ISIS, and after defending Shakespeare in the Park’s murdering of Trump in effigy, CNN had the temerity to suggest that a meme put journalists at risk of violence.  The obvious and blatant hypocrisy either puts them in the category of morons or liars, unless there is some third option that escapes my notice.  The meme, which if you haven’t seen it by now (somehow) was a silly little video from WrestleMania in which Trump fake tackled and fake tackled Vince McMan, with CNN’s logo superimposed over McMan’s head.  I know, it’s pretty bland normie tier stuff, but it would have had to be to float across the President’s feed.  The lack of dankness aside, we all enjoyed the hysterical verbal flailing of CNN and their cohorts decrying the meme as the worst thing ever and claiming that it speaks to Trump’s mental state.  It doesn’t, it’s just a meme.  Just when we thought that CNN couldn’t be any dumber, CNN asked somebody to hold their beer.  They were so salty over a bland meme that they literally hunted down the earliest known posting of it on Reddit to a user known as HanAssholeSolo.  However, that wasn’t the end of it.  Oh no, the simpering narcissists over at CNN had literally nothing better to do than stalk the account for identifying information like a jilted ex-girlfriend.  They managed to follow the crumbs to the poor guy’s Facebook profile.  They then reached out to him, letting him know that they knew who he was, where he liked to hang out online, and had copies of all of the embarrassing posts he’d put up online.  “Such a nice shop you have here, it’d be a shame if…’ something’ happened to it,” comes to mind.  This is an attack on the Internet, and we’ve won before.  If you didn’t participate in the Great Meme War to elect the God Emperor, now is the time to enlist.  Sharpen your sense of irony, and your sense of justice.  Ready your best jokes and take them seriously.  Do all you can to drag the name CNN through the mud before it’s tossed on the burning heap that is the dumpster fire of disrepute.  Cry havoc and let slip the memes of war!
















Nailed it


CNN has decided that blackmail and doxxing of private citizens is acceptable, so long as those citizens make memes that they find offensive.  Yes, the same people who said that posting a meme is the same as a call to action actually threatened to doxx somebody.  Let that sink in.  Really, let it into your brain and think on it for a good long while.  CRY HAVOC AND LET SLIP THE MEMES OF WAR!


A misdated document declares our holiday,

But what it declares is what matters true,

A step forward in every way,

Life liberty and the pursuit are sacred and to everyone due.


The congress called and delegates elected,

The grievances outlined and intention declared,

The rights enumerated and by the courageous signed,

The final remedy after all petitions rejected,

The prayers said and the weapons prepared,

The hope of a nation put on the shoulders of this kind.


A furious crown sent his legions in to assert his rule,

Brave men stood on the field of battle,

In the face of defeat the Minutemen stood tall,

In the face of lead they refused to fall,

Bloody and destructive war could not make their bones rattle,

And at Yorktown they played British songs to turnabout the ridicule.


Westward ho!

The cry to go,

Beyond what we know,

What the frontier may show,

Facing Nature’s wrath to make the nation grow,

Taming wilderness with beloved children in tow,

Laying down the paths for posterity to follow,

Courage still not forgotten though it was long ago.


Ellis Island was in the dark a light,

Beckoning to the world for those who for Liberty thirst,

A call to try their luck skill and work against her might,

Stay if you can make it or give up and let your path be reversed,

For Liberty is neither cruel nor kind,

She’ll let due fortune or misery the deserving find.


Let not the taint of corruption seep in,

Let not the temptation thieve be here,

Let not the sophistic degradation begin,

Let not the sin of envy lose its fear,

Let not the evils that destroyed nations win,

Let not the smooth tongued devil among us appear.

America is a truly great nation.  From her conception, she has been about the idea and ideal of Liberty, who she regards as an ends in and of herself.  Pragmatic arguments in favor of increased Liberty can indeed be valuable when a nation is founded on some other principal, such as race, language, or geographic convenience, but here they are secondary.  America has and still does regard Liberty as her very soul, and though she has suffered corruption of that soul, it is still not too late.  It is still possible to recognize that Liberty is the paramount, and we ought to therefore orient ourselves to require no rulers, no discipline from the state, to not be ungovernable as the corrupting influences advise, but to each of us govern ourselves.


Steel and glass scrape the sky,

Green hills gently kiss the clouds,

Horns blare to ignore then is to defy,

Silence and birdsong are the only crowds.


The queue presses itself ahead,

A small shop invites a chat,

There’s no pace that can’t be sped,

Take the time to tip your hat.


A storm of scowls meets flows through the street,

Shake hands and say hello in the park,

Speak little and without meaning when you meet,

Take the time to choose words that hit the mark.

I am ceaselessly amazed with the difference mere location makes in the disposition of humans.  Packed in like sardines, surrounded by towers made of steel and glass, they turn rueful, thin-skinned, angry, impatient, and generally peevish.  Probably because humans are meant to see the clear blue sky.


Knees bent,

Feet apart,

Back straight,

Hands clenched,

Arms close,

Shoulders forward,

This is the stance.


Weight shifts,

Hips turn,

Foot plants,

Arm extends,

Breath maintains,

Fist flies,

This is the form.


Legs straight,

Feet flat,

Back curved,

Hands loose,

Elbows out,

Shoulders slack,

You’re doing it wrong.


Weight stays,

Hips static,

Feet unsure,

Arm extends,

Uncontrolled breathing,

Fist ambles,

You’re doing it wrong.


Combat is a language leaned with pain,

Go find a teacher who’s earned that gain.


I saw a video of left-wing guys training to fight, and it was pathetic.  Granted, I have actual training in hand to hand, and firsthand experience, and I probably looked pretty goofy when I first started too, but this was a promo video.  The instructors looked like twigs, they were coordinated as drunken preschoolers, and while you might expect to see some beginners in that kind of video, there was no advanced student or instructor showcased.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for self-improvement and self-defense training, but come on guys.  If you’re going to promote yourself, try to look a little cool.  The poem is an exaggeration, but not that much.  Go find Alex Jones ranting about it for hilarity.