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‘A Sadistic God and a Dying Sun’
Opioids as a Metaphysical Lollygagging Fetish by Teutonic Fist
The per capita Opioid consumption in Germany is almost as high as in the US. I almost wondered what the most papered people in history need all these pain medication for. Also from my experience the most consumers of pain medication in Germany are foreigners, usually ground up during the industrial fat years as guest workers, overly affected now by diabetes because of the alien diet they consume here and overly represented when it comes to things like lumbago.
Of course females, since it is the nature of the female to be overly sensible to bodily ills, complain about discomforts and well adapted to swallowing things to solve problems.
I rejected pain medication ever since I was subjected to it once. I’d rather accept a few negative side effects from badly healed injuries as the inevitable tragedy of life, a memento that matter breaks and rots away. As it is written in Fight Club, “Someday you will die, and until you know that, you're useless to me.”
So what do I care about the tragic side effects therapeutic medication has upon a society of people who can't face life itself and who can't face wretchedness and always try to bargain for a more comfortable wretchedness?
Appeasement politics towards your own natural flaws have no different affect from appeasement when bargained with an external force that wants to do you harm. It will make it worse in the long run, which in the end will expose itself later as the short run on a road of disappointment you entered the moment you were looking for escapism, or if you’re even a bigger fool, a thing like hope.
So if anything, an opioid epidemic is a symptom rather than a syndrome, which is a society of people that can solve problems by pushing a button, swiping a card, or even watch a predatory threat disappear over the thermal camera sight of a reaper drone. Just pop a pill, push a needle or some other way to do a toxic enema to escape your shitty life in a doomed world flooding into the abys of the cold space mocked by the voyeurism of a sadistic god and a dying sun. So it’s no wonder we can't produce great pieces of Art anymore, because for Art you need to suffer. Suffering has no room for dumb decisions, waste, or lollygagging.
Night City: The Short Fiction of James LaFond: 2015-16
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broken dance
Add Comment
TeutonicMarch 17, 2018 7:22 PM UTC

The People who sell these therapeutic Toys for Armaments should burned on a pile made of them.
ShepMarch 16, 2018 10:36 PM UTC

OT—but information you may find interesting:

Comments are good, too.