Brotherman Doom

periodic reminder that the upper atmosphere has red tendrils of hyper-lightning over 50 km tall

What’s your favorite men only movie (hard mode no LotR)

Edits are probably the most important art form right now

I love instantly clocking when the media people recommend me is a complete piece of shit. What I love even more is when I later find out that I was completely vindicated and my beliefs were affirmed. First season? Only two episodes out? Garbage. Movie trailer played for 5 seconds? Dogshit. Literally judging a book by its cover? Trash. First three sentences of the synopsis? Goyslop. Screenshot of the gameplay? Ass. And people are always like, “But you haven’t even seen it!!!” Uh yeah I have. I witnessed the incremental fraction of it that told me everything I needed to know. I counted the whole universe through the light beams shining through a single grain of sand. They twinkled as it rolled betwixt the ridges of my fingerprints, the strobing glimmer spelling out a message in Morse code: YOU HAVE SHIT TASTE!!! Today’s vindication is The Boys. I’ve never once seen a single episode and yet the moment I heard of the show years ago, I knew it was garbage. I could simply tell by the smug hateful expressions on the plastic actors faces, the gray shitty factory warehouse lighting. The popcorn munching obsession with gore and violence. The simple premise of subverting the superhero, an already pathetic excuse for a mythological archetype that the West gets to have as a consolation prize. Within an instant, I saw the future of the show spelled out like a 20x fast forward chipmunk tape recorder squealing. I could smell the chimichangas on the breath of an obese LA hack in a dingy brightly lit writers room. I knew it would be several years of horrible shit, only made apparent to the dimmest audience members in the last season after they finally get beat over the head with blatant Trump bad man metaphors and transparent black lesbian retribution torture porn. I don’t even know how to explain to you what I see when I glimpse a slice of the average household media consumption. It’s like Matrix code rain, every layer of propaganda revealing itself to me like a blueprint diagram explosion. Everything from the peddled messages directly shoved in by producers ordering it be there to the unintentional and unnoticed insecurity fetish symbolism inserted through the subconscious impulses of a neurotic California writer whose life experience can be summed up as the conscious matrix hologram simulation projected through the plastic walls of an Erewhon cup with a little bit of cum left in it. And now here you people invade my prism of serenity, polluting my For You page with screenshots of complaints about some homo diwector who wuined youw favowite TweeVee show. Boo hoo hoo. How tf do you not see it coming? If you spend a little bit of time actually giving a shit about what you watch or read or play or consume, you’ll very quickly learn how to tell when something is not worth your conscious attention. And why does it matter? Because bad media makes you retarded. Bad consumption habits make you a dumber person who’s more susceptible to being raped. That’s what you are when you consume bad media. A raped little rodent man who acquired a taste for the buckets of shit they dump into your feeding bowl.

wherethefuckdoyougetofftalkingtopeopleaboutmebehindmybackgoingovermyhead

アイルランド、こうやって通りがかりに思いがけず出会える遺跡とかがたくさんあるのが、好き。ん？！ある？！てびっくりするし、ロマンを感じる