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Zup Old Dwerp
Teutonic Fist and the Wizened Crackpot Discuss the Millennial Woe
© 2019 James LaFond
APR/25/19
Saw a Russian movie lately "the Scythian". Was actually a pretty good movie. Has a lot of the Sword & Spell Vibe 1980s fantasy action movies like Conan have. The costumes also are surprisingly realistic not like that bullshit "vikings" biker gear. Movie is about some Russian knight whose lord allied himself with tartars and then some Scythians sack his home and kidnap his family and he has to use this Scythian warrior as guide to find him. In itself the movie is nothing special when it comes to Russian cinema of the last Putin years and a lot of elements like 300esk Slow motion scenes get used over and over. But besides that the fighting scenes are pretty good. Maybe you check it out when another movie night comes along.
Sir, thanks for the heads up. I’m very interested in non-American film these days since American film is so pat and worn. The storyline sounds very much like an old American Western, which makes me want to see it all the more. Even though this young man is simply relating a dream below I had to delete a portion for his own protection from the thought police in Great Britain.
Also I picked up public writing again since [DELETED ZOG tracking encryption code] anyway so why not write for the first of April how to make urea nitrat from piss.
I had this dream lately where I and a few other Millennials as old men are kept like cattle by some after Z generation savages like the Milk Mothers in Fury Road so that they could feed us bitter wine and harvest our piss to make gunpowder and burn our bones when we expire to make coal for black powder so that this devilish powder can crust up the barrels of ancient percussion revolvers and the homemade smooth barrels of salvaged army shotguns and use our fat as jelly mixture for their demonic flamethrowers spitting the angry roaring souls of the dishonored at their enemy.
Wow, I feel much better about my supermarket slave-boy nightmares after reading this! I have recently rediscovered regular sleep after a couple decades and have thus rediscovered the chronic nightmare. You show a lot of historical gravity sense for a man of your age and I think you have hit upon the millennial generation and its woes for what they honestly are.
My Ode to Millennial Men
My grandfathers’ generation built the temple under the lash.
My father’s generation picnicked about its base, enjoyed the fruits of its hanging gardens and drank and diced into the long night of their kind.
My generation, in our teaming, overfed millions, hauled that altar up the ever-steeper stairs as the pyramid became an upward swooping arc, and somewhere at about the place where the ziggurat turned into an upended rainbow into the void above, we set that altar down as far up the stair as we could bear.
My son’s generation, your generation, our dwindling legion of Isaacs, were born to be sacrificed on that altar. So sorry that your fat fucking fathers have not sharpened their knives, can no longer get to the altar and have forgotten God’s voice, if they ever once knew it. It’s a shame, but you’re being sacrificed on the picnic benches upon which my father’s generation dined like swine, with the feral youth of the dumb tribes and the shrill and ascendant genders of Pink World as your incompetent executioners.
-Strength and Honor in Your Hour
The Mind of Mescaline Franklin
The Awakening of a Paleface Ethnocist
Gene Wolfe
blog
‘Lot’s Children’
eBook
triumph
eBook
solo boxing
eBook
logic of force
eBook
let the world fend for itself
eBook
broken dance
eBook
honor among men
eBook
america the brutal
eBook
wife—
Ruben Chandler     Apr 26, 2019

Kudos!
Bryce Sharper     Apr 26, 2019

"It’s a shame, but you’re being sacrificed on the picnic benches upon which my father’s generation dined like swine, with the feral youth of the dumb tribes and the shrill and ascendant genders of Pink World as your incompetent executioners."

This really resonated with me. The other day my sons and I were at a park while a sheriff helicopter circled the entire time in search of Latino gangsters who shot at one-another. We drove away through a police perimeter established to catch them fleeing on foot. As we drove, the lady in the car next to me nearly hit a panhandler who stumbled into the road from the median. I nearly hit a deranged vagrant. Crossing under the freeway to the other side of the city was like "Escape from LA."

Still the voters will vote for more of this.
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