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Logo by Julian Spanos

Antitheistic. Long. Perplexing. Offensive. Whatever.

Warning: This blog does not cater to your whims. If you are offended, then I am not obliged to care. It ain't personal until otherwise stated.

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Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Dealing with some flawed beliefs!

Once again, I return, oh deprived fuckers; I find myself mused -- I find myself motivated. In true honesty, my conscience must take what I like to call “a philosophical dump”, for I have had to endure a bit of something that has left my liver with a burning sensation ever since. People and spastics alike; Kade now returns with yet another rant, because now he’s had to handle the prospects of a very intelligent man, implicating the rest of the world as dumb in the face of America and its decision making prowess. Time for Kade’s chaotic psychological storm to kick in, for this time, he is fucking shackled and disoriented by a little sentimentality that we call respect; I just hope this intellectual colleague of mine can get the gist of what I am saying without taking offence - he really needs this gleaning.

“Before I continue, I’d like to ponder something… Why in fuck’s name do I like to mind-fuck myself by subjecting my blazing ego to the realm of the asinine? I have no fuckin’ idea, but it does bring on more than my desired share of migraines!” - Pre-Rant Confession

Recently, an unnamed, unidentified, and intentionally undocumented young brat, approximately around thirteen-years-old, but with the mental maturity of a three-year-old, decided to vent. Unfortunately, this proud Texan, of all people, decided to belittle and berate a very tragic event in American history by making an empty threat alluding to the repeat of that very recent tragedy. I shall not name this horrid event, but I will tell you all that it was recent, and it had forever morphed the face of this world, as we know it, at the expense of the innocent American public, and even a significant number of expatriates in America at that point in time.

The youngster was swift to offer a barrage of apologies; his points were loosely composed; his execution was lacklustre; however, he was still the same, poorly developed thirteen-year-old, and therefore, his unpolished speech was the least of our worries. In simple words, the stupid little fucker decided to apologise; not that his words really meant anything because he was alluding to attacking something that didn’t even exist any longer. This unfortunately, was still no excuse, and his apologies were much needed, which he made - explicitly accepting that he was in the wrong and that nothing excuses his conduct. Of course, in the real world, we’ve all too often begun to confuse “sorry” for an actual excuse; fuckers, “sorry” is admittance of wrong, doused in regret - it never was, and never will be an excuse or justification. Anyhow, the brat was cut a break -- lucky fucker -- and we got about our business, when an intellectual colleague of mine decided to step in.

Now, this colleague of mine’s a rare gem in my book. The years that he holds over his own biological age are phenomenally unfathomable; I will acknowledge moments of blatant fuckin’ awe, while comprehending this youngster’s intellectual capacity. This young man transcends the political and religious spectrum, because he’s probably even a minority within the minority of free thinkers who’s achieved this neo state of enlightenment. Therefore, my expectations were crudely manipulated, by proxy of the standards and esteemed respect that I hold this person to; there’s only three other individuals that I associate with this young dude, and believe you me, I know a lot of intelligent people!

“So yeah, when I label this genius bastard a demigod of the mind - I am speaking a fuckin’ loaded volume!” - Immediate Contention

However, my intellectual colleague, whom I’ll refer to simply as “Mr. Cerebral”, decided to have a sound and wholesome breakdown of the entire situation. He fuddled the conscience of the third parties that were responsible for sending this young brat over the edge; he took apart the brat’s own ego and attitudes that were dictating his greater and needed composure, which was all for a lack of better word, completely-fucking-absent from the unfortunate scenario; hence, the stupid threat. Of course, knowing Mr. Cerebral so well, I could not expect anything short of a political tirade, considering that most of the reaction from the other, less articulate youngsters had now turned into a political debate about American sensitivity. Mr. Cerebral explained to the little kids that certain things are not to be mocked, especially where the actual suffering of the victims is exploited - it’s just not the done deal, especially from recent history.

Unfortunately, young Mr. Cerebral ventured off into a territory of the political paradigm, which very much overlaps the philosophical, and to this day, remains a conundrum more thana  harvesting grounds for facts. I had not expected even Mr. Cerebral to have firm views on the matter, because it’s intellectual suicide to be sure about the unsure on a grand scale; even the best of us humans are still mere slaves to our own perceptions. “What did the man say, damn it?! The readers eyes have been bleeding for some seven-hundred-words now! Please! Get to the fuckin’ point!” my conscience yells at me, and so I shall get to the nucleus of the philosophical anomaly. Mr. Cerebral decided to use the political transformation of the discussion to address his patriotic insecurity, which is all too common with Americans, these days; the belief that the world hates American. He claimed that this belief of how the world hates America, is largely so, because it -- the world at large -- is incapable of making decisions by itself, and this is why America remains where it is: the hated decision maker. According to Mr. Cerebral, the world is inept, incapable, and childlike in its hatred of America, and American decisions. Of course, the same man also ended his diatribe on a note about how American apologies for its mistakes in Iraq will never fly in the face of the global opinion; in similar capacity, the young-brat’s “sorry” won’t excuse his poor snap in judgement when he made the negative statement/threat.

My problem however, branched from that little contention about how the world just conveniently enjoys blaming American decisions, which in themselves are not to blame. Unfortunately, the ignorant implications of this comment could not be pardoned, even if the contention itself was a poetic and godly sample of creative articulation; nothing could make up for the bulk of false implications that sprout from such a thesis. Before I proceed, I’ll be the first to admit that I have, throughout my entire existence, pretty much sat back and defended western life and freedoms for so long -- and with such passion -- that such defence had become my dogma! I could not tolerate myopic eastern shmucks, denigrating American society, simply because Americans are not ashamed to address their issues publicly, while the eastern block’s been known to keep all of its dirt heavily concealed under a comically thin veil - the ignorance isn’t even funny, because there's just so much that is poorly hidden, yet unacknowledged.

“I pity the curry-smelling fool! Who thinks his backward society is in any way, shape, or form, above modernity! Such a fool is nothing more me than a fuckin’ waste of sperm, and even brain cells! Unfortunately, this doesn't mean that the entire world is high on Kool Aide, when even enlightened scholars have critiqued American politics for nearly half-a-century now!” - Following Contention

Indeed my urge to contradict, comes from my dichotomy with this belief that America's international policies have been flawless. As a matter of fact, just to contradict and counteract the implications of Mr. Cerebral’s conjecture, I shall touch on one simple example that will speak volumes about an entire culture and region that was potentially scarred and sent down a path of damnation due to America's ulterior politics. Be patient, fuckers; this isn’t a rant against countries, but this is a rant against apologist-opinions that offer holistic defence of American international policy. You see, I can agree with quite a few of America’s policies, but there have been some glaring wrongs, and now you should allow King Storm to address those reasons.

Therefore, I start with the rhetoric of the world not being responsible enough. I am sorry, but Bangladesh and India had every reason to blame Richard Nixon for perpetuating the 1971 blood bath, and then turning a blind eye to the infamous General Yahya Khan and his psychotic power trip, which resulted in the genocide against the Bangladesh people. Okay, fine, I can’t officially dub it a "genocide", because conservative estimates are still hanging around three-hundred-thousand Bangladeshi’s slaughtered by the military. On the other hand, I could get liberal and resort to R.J. Rummel’s citation of an estimated one-to-three-million that were brutally killed at the whim of this tyrant (Effects of 1971 Indo-Pak war), and whoopdy-doo, this is also the same saga that paved the way for the "Islamisation" of the region, introducing the role of conservative Islam into the state affairs, carried out by a pompous and very aggressive Pakistan-based military that has historically shown little regard for freedom, dignity and human rights.

“Can you all fathom the implications? A secular nation was broken down; a potential genocide carried out against its own people by a tyrant who left the way open for another cocksucker to exploit the aftermath of these atrocities and introduce that utter, and ugly filth of a jismic dogma known as Wahabist Islam into a secularly progressive environment, effectively empowering every fanatic motherfucker! If we know one thing for a fact, it’s that constitutions determine the greater mindset of the entire socio-cultural dynamics that follow in its wake! Ultimately, society falls back on its constitutional values. This is how the fanatics in that region were finally empowered: they got an officiously basterdised constitution to justify their archaic views. Oh, and would we care to wonder what Nixon had to say during the that time when all this hell ensued - even after that genocide against the citizens of Bengladesh?” - Bitter Rhetoric

Sadly enough, Mr. Nixon continued his support for Yahya the tyrant, even denigrating the Indian leadership in the process (Refer to paragraph three of Richard Nixon's Policies). Please, people, there is no way that one could twist this decision into a positive! There is no way that you could justify the three-hundred-thousand lives (some argue three-million), lost to a whimsical genocide; the entire social progress and secular evolution of a region, thwarted back over a hundred-years. This was all the chain reaction initiated from an American foreign policy  required that we spoil that capricious bastard, General Yahya, followed by Zia, who was another evil fuck, and despite having ample opportunity to identify his predecessor's follies,  more American administration foreign policy let him further contaminate and condemn the social sanctity of an entire culture and region.

Therefore, perhaps we should lay off excessively bold claims about how the world is categorically wrong in contrast to the one nation that's always taking initiative. Any intelligent individual will know that when you place yourself outside the box and consider some ground facts, it sounds fuckin’ stupid to assume that an entire world can be wrong for having so many different and legitimate reasons, the aforementioned example, included. Besides, it’s not just myopic and destitute nationalists of other nations who berate American policies; you also have intellectuals following suit--ones based in America, and of American culture and persuasion. Has anyone ever stopped to ponder that notion? This isn’t about country against country, because an authentic intellectual’s honesty soars beyond the dignity of a country; such individuals are often open to criticising their own in lieu of committing to an honest observation. A true intellectual's rarely gonna' suffer from a nationalism-induced need to distort the truth - he/she will only be devoted to the truth, and his/her own selfish ass! A truly intelligent individual does not have his/her pride fused into the paper-pride of a country or region, because their dignity revolves around their own intellectual fortitude and prowess; they don’t need to fall back on a country’s dignity to feel complete, and thus, offer uncompromising honesty. Hell, such intellectuals rarely even disagree with the American spirit; what they do disagree with, however, is the authentic follies in the international policies, much like how I disagree with Nixon’s approach to dealing with/spoilling General Yahya Khan. Is this because yours truly and other intellectuals are just about as myopic as a typically foreign moron? Fuck no! It’s because a wrong is a blatant wrong, and the facts speak from themselves, much like they did in the case and implications of the Indo-Pak war of 1971.

Besides, even Mr. Cerebral cannot evade the fact that by acknowledging American actions in Iraq as mistakes, he effectively admits to their own follies - case and point joining an entire list of mistakes. It’s about high time that American patriots admit the mistakes; it isn’t evil; it isn’t wrong - it’s just being honest with one’s self! Hell, if you're truly patriotic, you'd have the guts to observe the wrongs of your own. Things have been screwed up, and just for the record, I’ll go onto reiterate my stance that Iraq is another screw up in the making. Ten years from now, you will fathom the true depths of what I had to say today, for downgrading that nation’s secular constitution into that of an Islamic state will give rise to another Iran-like group mentality. After all, as already touch on; good, progressive constitutions can go onto motivate great social progress, while bad ones go onto justify some of the most insidious atrocities known to humankind.

“Yes, America, another mistake, and I don’t identify this because I wouldn’t know how to deal with it… I identify it because the true depths of honest and free expression shaped my mind. The same mindset that was nurtured into me through appreciation of the modern American culture and philosophy! And in spirit of that intelligent honesty, I will continue to reiterate the time-tested thesis that if you keep creating Islamic-theocracies, you’ll continue to empower future fanaticism.” - Closing

“As for my intellectual colleague, and object of my envy, Mr. Cerebral; I hope he realises that this wasn’t an attack against his intelligence, but rather, the highlight of some very crucial facts that were trivialised in his initial overlook. Sure, the world does run its mouth into the gutter all too often over the mention of America; I fuckin’ hate it, and defend the true spirit of American progression with a passion. However, I’d be damned if I’ll ever abscond honest intellectualism to defend blatantly damaging policies and political flaws, which American administrations have been responsible for creating.” - Closure

Now, I must return to dissecting a true puzzle; why the fuck do I get myself into these situations, and even more flammable rants? Perhaps the mind-numbing high plays the role of a subtle incentive in my situation, or perhaps that’s just wishful thinking and poor rationalisation. Anyway, I am fuckin’ done!

Stay cool, and stay smart, you crazy fuckers.



Thursday, March 08, 2007

Moment of Madness: Just read!

I’ve played many games of the mind in the past, and by that, I don’t mean games of aptitude and academic value. I speak simply of fucking with peoples heads, fucking with my own head, watching them fuck up one another good, and then even having them fuck with my head.

This is why it pisses me off sometimes to determine or judge on how someone should be, or should feel, when really, I have no precedent over the matter. Who the fuck am I to say make such conjectures, right? So in spirit of this newfound wisdom, which I’m probably going to lose within a few hours, I’m going to deal with a bit of an issue through a dark twisted piece of lyrical poetry!

There’s something pending, in my name, and I must procure the results. Of course, it’s a matter of winning and loosing in my case, but something tells me I’ll be more empty after the whole ordeal, regardless of the outcome.

And now I know where I stand, so I shall embrace this dark epiphany head on!

Victory in defeat,
And defeat in victory,
My mind’s own deceit,
Perpetuating this misery.

Defined by numbers,
As I watch the frail egos collapse,
Defined by numbers,
Watching their neurosis relapse!

Have I really achieved triumphant glory,
Or have I really just come out empty,
Unable to save those that really needed to be saved in this story,
Now the shadows of deceit hunt me as their quarry!

Fuckin’ blog smogs of my own mind,
Machinations of the archetypical devil’s design,
I always command ‘em to fuck off to the abode of their kind,
But that really just means the core of my own twisted mind!

It was time for tings to be changed,
Switching around those ancient tables,
The cerebral game rearranged,
A new dynamic but within the same fables!

Yes, welcome aboard - come to me my dears,
You’ve taught me a great lesson,
Stalking and then drowning me in your ocean of crimson tears!

By occupying my vessel time and time again!
Probing the sentimental voids as my hindering bane!
Leaving me deluded in the vain!

So now I welcome thee back into my void!
Only this time, I’ve consumed you for my bidding!
Now I’m the designated stalker deployed!

Once I was yours, and now you are mine!
A role reversing dynamic of the slave master paradigm!

I may’ve suffered defeat in victory!
But now the mistress of darkness is my trophy!
So have I gotten victory out of defeat?
None but I shall caress the underlying truth to that riddle, for now it’s my game of deceit!

Defeat in victory,
Victory in defeat,
I am the fucking sadist, now in firm possession of his misery!
Triumphing and concealing my morale’s defeat with tantalising deceit!

Fuck this sincerity and contemplation; my smoking mirrors will dispel all mortal despair!
Venturing through smog murk and overwhelming temperature to get home to my nightmare!
The very nightmare, that either haunts me, or daunts my enemies; whatever, baby, I couldn’t care!
Eighth and final circle of hell, you wonder? Hah! My throne lies far beyond the devil’s lair!


Ha! Ha!

Ha! Ha! Ha!


Later, fuckers!

- Kade

Tuesday, March 06, 2007


Yes, that is fucking it for me: I hate this rain! I just fucking hate the rain!

I mean, I am all for combating droughts and shit, but this is ridiculous. These randomly ludicrous bouts of rain, all the fucking time, are starting to overwhelm my nerves! FUCKING HELL! I AM SICK AND TIRED OF GETTING SOAKED! AND NO, I REFUSE TO USE AN UMBRELLA!

"Well, it's your fault then!" -- Common criticism.


It's like the heavens are taking a piss on me, and enjoying every moment of it; I don't wish to be urinated on by a pack of mischeivious angels!

"Hey! Piss on that lanky punk! It'll be cool!" -- Angel.

"Cut that out, you fuckin' fairy!" -- My response.

"Mwahahahaha! Fuck no!" *PSSHHHH* "Say my name, bitch!" -- Angel.

I don't need to be showered with your fucking water, oh clouds; it's cold, and you fuck me up in ways that I don't enjoy analysing for the sake of my own sanity. If I wanted to feel cold, like shit, in utter dim dampness and despair, and perhaps even a tad bit violated, then I would've found a way to get into prison!

Fucking hell! WET. ALL. THE. FUCKING. TIME.


- Kade

Saturday, March 03, 2007

An epic day of 'tale' proportions! WHAT?!

Yesterday was one hell of a weird day for me!

I mean, it was a tale of good versus evil. A tale of triumph against insurmountable odds. A tale of humour and entertainment amidst the utterly mundane. A tale of excitement being derived from physical agony and distress. A tale of chaos and battle. A tale of going against one’s very natural inclinations. A tale of deceit and deception gone horribly wrong. A tale of pain and romance. The whole mother-fuckin’-load, baby!

So it all began with yet another outing with my ‘saner’ friends - my colleagues. Heh, nice bunch of people, so diligently looking out for one another, and attempting to establish ‘connections’. I guess it would be a better world if more people gave a shit like that, but whatever. I joined in, since I am in for a long and twisted weekend! I decided to join ‘em in, thinking that in lieu of a so-called relaxing outing, we’ll end up in some sort of (mis)adventure. No, I was merely offering moral support. I won’t say any more, because excessively personal opinions and reflections suck ass, and one, or two, or three of them might end up reading this. Therefore, I’ll shut up.

The voices inside my head had a good go at me! Most of the voices told me to just get out and do my own thing; solo-act of wandering about, and then warming up inside some pub. Then, my inexplicable inclinations made me succumb to the outing, instead. Fuckin’ amazing! And here I thought I was the archetypically stubborn person. UNCHARACTERISTICALLY ODD SHIT - CHECK!

Worse yet, through out this scenario, it was raining cats and dogs just hours after my hour-plus shower! I HATE GETTING WET! If I needed another shower, I’d have stayed at home and remained in the bathroom for another hour.

I played along with the routine, and had the ambivalent experience of some mundane settings, coupled with interesting company and conversations. Hey, I even got this one person with unrivalled silence abilities, which she claims is only a ’shyness’ issue, to actually ask me a question for once! Fuckity! Anyway, then the people decided that the mundane was too mundane for them, and they wanted to head off elsewhere; another one of those parties. As a matter of fact, very much the same kinda’ party, by the same kinda’ people, but in a slightly different venue. AMUSEMENT IN MUNDANE - CHECK!

I didn’t mind the idea of going, but there was something in the back of my mind that kept pushing me in another direction, that and the fact that pretty much everyone received news of this ’party’ with the exception of me. And if anyone knows Kade, even a little bit, they’d know that he loathes being the uninvited third wheel! Regardless, both elements were going against me! I mean, as much as I like to play the ‘outsider’ as Dan so aptly puts it, sometimes, it also pisses me off, because I am not the kind of person who likes to cling along when he's not convinced of being invited. Seriously, if some of you can relate, then just picture the idea of everyone and their dog receiving the invitation, with the exception of you; would you feel appropriate crashing the party uninvited? Heh. TRIUMPH - CHECK! Basically, the evil--my ego--beat the good--my colleagues. Then again, maybe I always hail the victor as 'evil'.
These chain of events left me playing the game halfway as I suddenly segregated myself from the group, and begged my leave under pretence of having to be somewhere else; we parted ways as I headed off to my filthy haven up north. I was thinking of meeting up with a friend, but instead of doing that, I began to prowl the city on my own. Yes, so my little ‘pretence’ now turned into a lie, which I’d say was nothing more than a fucking fib, to be honest. DECEIT - CHECK! I’ll own up to it, not like they lose much anyway! They were going to a fuckin’ party, for fuck’s sake! Do the maths - it was cool.

That’s when the unexpected occurred. Now, everyone knows that I am a tough person to approach, by virtue of my own nature, and the inherent ignorance and bigotry of even the most so-called open-minded people. I mean, I belong to a very specific ‘genre’--or sub-culture--of people, and only such people have the balls to approach me on a completely sporadic impulse. So I was at the tube-station, waiting for the last train that I needed in order to go where I needed to be. . . on my fucking own! Suddenly, a complete stranger, apparently not one of ‘my genre’, approached me. We had the quirkiest conversation, ever. The guy was very forthcoming; asked me how long it took me to grow my fuckin’ chin goatee! I was fuckin’ amazed! Because for once, I had someone to relate to, as I explained to him how slowly my facial hair grows, and how abnormally long it took me to get a solid chin-goatee, while my friend‘s younger brother got something better within a measly six-months. Ah, but the primary surprise remained highlighted in the fact that this stranger showed me some balls and did not reserve his friendly-nature, which by itself is a concept of myth in modern times. I mean, aside from like four of my colleagues, most of the 'friendly people' take months daring to lower their guard around me, so it was a sociological phenomenon for me to absorb. Now this stranger and I talked about goatees, hair, since he’s been trying his hand at growing both but not having much luck. We even touched on the subject of dying hair, and what a bitch bleaching can be, including how I pity the fools that colour their hair. Anyway, it was an interesting experience, and then we parted ways; I guess that’s the last time I’ll ever see the dude, but hey, even a few minutes of interaction that somehow challenges my general judgement of reality is a worthwhile experience to remember. Yeah, that dude was alright! UNEXPECTED PLEASANTRY - FUCKIN’ CHECK!

So, is that it? Fuck no! Because the really unexpected happened as I got ambushed by a big, huge drunk! It was raining, yet again, and the roads were virtually empty, and that's when I heard this massive, "Oi, yo!" a creepy opener before the drunk revealed himself. And the schematics of the drunk - fuck! This guy had a huge height advantage as well as being a big-man. But he learned that disgrace is a guaranteed outcome when he'll mess with the Super Sleek Sexy Snake, Kade, because I triumph over fat-drunks! Chaos/Battle/Triumph (A couple of bruised ribs) - CHECK! No seriously, this is not cool. Fighting is not healthy, or productive - avoid it when possible. I mean, I didn’t fight the guy; I just had luck on my side. I was prepared to suffer major injury at that point because this guy was ‘huge’. I just got, very lucky.

"Ah! You so had it coming! Someone finally tried to give it to you! Ha! Ha! Ha!" -- Some might be thinking.

"Fuck you! Fuck you! And... Yeah, fuck you! No. The guy was fucking drunk. I didn't know him. Furthermore, as much as I antagonise some, those very few know fullwell that I'm... You know... Not a nasty fucker. No, really, I am not. Fuck, believe what you will." -- My general response, because I am already getting such feedback now; apparently, in the good judgement of a sordid few, I deserve such an outcome to my nights.

Note: The backdrop to this fight was even more rain! Fuckity fuck! There, I just had my third shower within a six-hour-window! Not to mention, another one that’ll not be too far off as I was near my dominion - my personal hell, which I relish and loathe for two very opposing reasons.

Oh, and what about romance? Bahahahaha! Even -IF- there was any, why the fuck would I tell? Friggin’ idiots. It’s a marketing ploy, and I win. Made you read! Bahahahahaha! If I missed anything else, then just attribute that to hyperbole, because you’d be rigid fuckers to do otherwise; look up the news channels and supplement your consciences with yet another news of kidnappings in the ever so successful Iraq--then dies the sarcasm. (Okay, perhaps I do deserve some mild form of beating at this point.)

Anyway, it was quite a day, and I’m fucked up good now. So yeah, I’ll post some shit later. For now, I must medicate before I decide to rip one of my ribs out.

Stay cool, fuckers!