You know this story will never, ever, ever, end. The heat death of the universe is more likely than a Gamma just shutting up and going away forever. Yes, you guessed it, today must be special retard day.
ShadoHand, the furious intel is back.
I honestly can’t be bothered to dissect him as I did Ken. I’t just going to be more of a mercy killing style drive by. And his future comments might well be spammed.
And yes, you mentally ill retard. It is absolutely and perfectly fine to institutionalise people who have such severe mental illness or defect that they prove a danger to themselves or others. And while I do not agree with using them for medical experiments, as unfortunately they have been, historically, nor the use of the kind of drugs they are given, I do absolutely believe many can be helped, as Milton Erickson demonstrated for years in man cases.
You will also note this guy is a tad unbalanced (in case the previous, what half-dozen posts weren’t enough proof) where he:
Accuses me of wanting to institutionalise people at will, without any process for it (where he came up with that he only knows).
He equates drug taking as though it was a known Satanic ritual. I mean, drugs, even psych drugs are all pretty bad and the Pharma companies are certainly evil, but I’m fairly sure the people doling out drugs to mental patients aren’t (in the main) performing specific black masses.
Makes some nonsense up about Catholicism being incompatible with mental institutions, which is nonsense, since the Catholic Church has always tended to the care of the mentally ill from the very earliest times. And in fact, before anyone can even THINK of talking about exorcisms or possession, a full examination of the patient/victim must be had by both qualified doctors and specially trained clergy to first of all establish that the person is not merely disturbed, rather than wrestling with demons, so, no, you absolute freak, the Catholic way is most certainly NOT the abolition of mental asylums. As for your claim of psychiatric abuse, it is absolutely clear that you are not neurotypical by any stretch of the imagination, so I fully believe you absolutely need some psychiatric help, which is also why this is likely the last time you will feature on this blog and will henceforth, in all likelihood, be relegated to spam. Your entertainment and teaching moment value has rapidly depreciated.
I hope tomorrow brings a better quality of commenters. One lives in such faint hopes…
The SuperChad, not-at-all-a-Gamma, ShadoHand, ( I do love how their nicknames do tell us so much about them) informs us that there will be an upcoming Tsunami of Text. Imagine my shock, surprise, and delight.
Ladies and gentlemen, given the clamorous success of our BLOGOVELLA, a brand new genre, like soap opera but in blog format, think of it as candy-floss with all the E numbers for your mind and an acid bath for your souls, we bring you the FIFTH episode, of our never-ending drama-trauma of non-incel-incel, he of the quick and steely, not to mention Shadowy, Hand!
Behold his gloriousness, radiating gamma rays so powerful even Hulk would have been shrivelled up.
Well! Consider me schooled and beaten, ladies and gentlemen! He’s not the gamma, *I’m* the gamma!
Secondly, it’s by CHOICE you see, that he has never had sex and it will also be by choice that he will never, have sex. Ever. Because… ummm… NO WOMAN IS GOOD ENOUGH! Of course! Only his shadohand can comfort him. Forever!
Thirdly, uh…. thirdly he may also have dementia, but fourthly, well, fourthly takes the cake.
He’s got a handheld scalar weapon in the making people! But luckily he didn’t threaten anyone with it, specifically, so we’re all safe. Not because he’s obviously suffering from delusions of grandeur so massive that he should probably be in an old style mental asylum, no, no, no, don’t you DARE suggest that because he narrowly avoided being homeless thanks to the kindness of strangers he is not a genius’ genius with solar weapon technology in the palm of his hand! THAT would be the insane part, am I right people?
But rest assured, we have no doubt whatsoever, that as soon as he stops hallucinating inanimate objects talking to him, he will write again.
And again.
And again.
Because the Secret King never loses and he will write again.
I know, I know, some of you are like “Dude… you’re probably making fun of a severely mentally ill person.”
To which I say: I’m doing my part to ensure the freaks get put back in the special places of care they need to be in by exposing them.
Look, it’s either that or this guy can run for office (see previous post. Except….don’t really go look at it all, just read the text, trust me. And if you do look at it all, have an empty stomach before you do.)
There’s a reason they nicknamed me the Kurgan… and it’s not exactly because I take pity on retards, French ones or otherwise, who take it upon themselves to attract my gaze on their insectoid existence.
But don’t feel sad for him, remember, if I suddenly teleport to another dimension, it’s probably him with his scalar zap gun!
Did you all miss ShadoHand, ladies and gents? He of the striped chest and iron bicycles and four cold showers a day (to cool down his ShadoHand activities, no doubt, since he does not have anything to do with women, of course, being a tragic incel, errr… Manly man, that mannilly goes his own Way. (With a Hand. Like a Shadow!)
Fear not, the blognovella that is the Saga of ShadoHand continues, and like all good soap operas, will probably never, ever, ever end. But first, here he is in all his glory!
In case you missed the unmissable and very entertaining first three episodes of this dumpster fire of a human, exemplary specimen of manly Sigmaness, here they are, in order:
Today, now that we have ensured the pilot first few episodes of this blognovella have been a resounding success with our audience, we announce the next instalment: The Unhinged comment.
Which can be found for your amusement, along with the previous one and my response to it, here: The Comments
Here is his glorious insanity in full glory:
Click to enlarge the below
We really need to update his skill set ladies and gentlemen! We are doing this schizophrenic trainwreck obvious manliest, manly, Sigma, a disservice by not including his deeply important work on piezoelectric sources of energy! Which ONLY a Millennial could do. Certainly in this fashion anyway.
But the kicker? The reference to Douglas Jones is what really made my day and cracked me right up.
Douglas Jones, is a character in my latest novella, In the Shadow of Monte Castello (the sequel is being written as we speak) which has had really excellent feedback, so I am hoping it may become an alternative to Monster Hunter International type of novels that people might enjoy. I’m fairly sure Larry Correia wouldn’t mind nor care even if I did become in any way relevant competition to his books (fat chance, but one can dream) as our styles are quite different, and he’s actually a very decent guy from every interaction I had with him online.
Anyway, Douglas Jones, the character in the novella, is based on an actual guy I kinda know, and he knows I based this character on him. He was as amused by the reference as I was. He’s now such a badass that his alter ego gets used to threaten people who mock you for your incomparable stupidity and Gammaness. If that is not a glowing review for my character-writing abilities, I don’t know what is.
To move away from the rather grim realities of Gaza genocide, public policy, pedophiles, politicians, and so on, it all being grim mostly due to an absence of all of these parasites, mass murderers, and child rapists swinging from trees and lampposts, I thought I would share a slightly lighter event from my life, and that is my wife and I’s discussion of my celebrity crush: Emily Blunt.
When we watch the odd film, that my wife manages to stay awake for past the initial credits, there was a time that if Dwayne Johnson was in it, she would say “Oh yes!” to it, she has since gone completely off him after some allegations (I have no knowledge about their veracity or otherwise) that appeared somewhere that he was for hire to service men or women in what I think is the male equivalent of “yachting” for female actresses. Anyway, her tastes vary generally, or are more broad than mine.
I, a true connoisseur of refined taste, have only really had two celebrity crushes (and yes, yes, let’s all just pretend Hollyweird is not a hive of pedophiles and worse for a minute here, this is fantasy land territory).
The first was Madeline Stowe, who in her prime was a vision, and more recently, Emily Blunt.
Oh, there was also Famke Jannsen, but a couple of years ago I saw her in a new film or TV series or something, and Oh, my God… my brain was fried. Whoever her plastic surgeon was should be hung, drawn and quartered. While she was not quite Donatella Versace level of African Mask make-over, it was a rude shock. So much so my brain has practically excised her from memory.
So it’s Madeline Stowe, and yes, she has slightly asymmetrical features, and they only make her prettier.
And when Madeline was gracefully “retired” in my mind, the only other actress I found very attractive was Emily Blunt.
They might seem quite different women, but they are both in that range of beauty that goes near or above 9 and from which, no real agreement between men can be reached. No one is a 10 to everyone, but some are tens to some. Beyond 9, the numbers get hazy. As does the sanity, of course, as I wrote about many moons ago, nevertheless, while Stowe could have been described as more Latino-ish and smouldering, and Blunt more quintessentially English, they both have a playfulness that would no doubt come into it behind closed doors. I also probably had a soft spot for Emily because in many ways she does remind me quite a bit of my wife. Aside the pretty looks, they have quirky senses of humour, although I suspect Emily’s dark side is kept a little away from the cameras. But overall there is a playful intelligence and the generally somewhat amusing English shyness mixed with slightly ridiculous rigid logic and somewhat absurd concepts of empathy and humanity makes such women endearing to me.
Anyway, given our dark humour, my wife and I habitually tease each other on pretty much anything and everything. Needling each other with our hypothetical “crushes” on random actors/actresses is part of the fun. Of course, for all we know they are horrible people in real life, or maybe not, but I somehow think it’s unlikely we’d ever bump into them at the local rural market on a random Tuesday and find out or become great friends, so it’s all just fantasy.
Today, my wife struck a low blow. I received this message… out of the blue.
I protested, said it was all lies, just vicious gossip. Our text conversation was quite tragic.
As I asserted Emily was all natural, and I was willing to prove it with my body! For science! She retorted that I would never be able to tell if Emily would enjoy the process, what with her being practically mummified now.
Wife: Shame, it made her eyes all wonky.
Me: LIES!!
Wife:
Me: Jealousy makes you evil!
Wife: Emily is a waxwork now darling, Lol!
I tried to placate the green monster…
Me: I remember thinking she’s around your age in the last film I saw (some drama about big Pharma) and she clearly has aged but is still pretty and I thought she is one of the few that has aged nearly as well as you…
I wasn’t falsely flattering her, I do think that.
Wife: But alas, she succumbed to the call of the plastic. Vain little creature.
Me: (more seriously) but did she? I skimmed the article you sent and couldn’t notice from the pictures in it I glanced at.
Wife: I saw pictures of her at a recent event and was like: Shit, what has she done?
Me: No! Not Emily!
Wife: I know it may take some time for these news to set in, But you’re a smart man, and clearly, though your brain gets all dizzy and F* up around certain types of women…
Me: Hot slutty ones?
Wife: you will clearly see in front of you here a botched bit of facial work. Sad. So sad Emily.
Me: (expecting a sadly revealing picture) No! Spare me the trauma! Let me Dream!
Wife: Ok.
Wife: Emily can’t do that (wink)
Me: (Waiting)
Me: You really not going to send it? I thought you knew me better than that. Send it!
Wife:
Me:
Wife:
Wife: Now she’s angry
You just can’t tell.
Me: (Laughing)
Wife: Bitch has gone full Essex on you!
Me: I can still dream… maybe seen from behind…
Wife: For now… but she’s on the train…
Me: Wow… the knives! The SCALPELS you’re throwing at poor Emily!
Wife: I can’t help it. I’m disappointed in her.
Me: (knowing this is probably true actually) Still, the cattiness… ferocious!
Wife: Ah… go write about it. (We have another way of saying this in Italian I think. It also starts with “Ah…” and also “Go…” slightly different ending though.)
And Emily, if you ever read this… please, for the love of God, stop. You’re still beautiful, and you know, you can come round our place and my wife can give you a pep talk about self-confidence. Or I can. It’ll be fine, we’re Catholics, we can’t divorce, and I still have good reflexes, the knife stabs probably won’t kill me. Maybe a little scarring, but hey, you’re not new to that eh?
Oh and even if I liked his Jack Ryan series, it’s ok, you can leave the husband at home, someone needs to look after the kids after all.
Yeah, that’s how we roll. We’re not really very nice people. That’s why we’re Catholics. God came to save the worst of the lot, didn’t you know?
I know you will all be shocked about this, but against all probabilities, the Gamma-Chad, stripe-chested, ShadoHand has yet to be vanquished.
I mean, he started a giant thread on SG while he also began deleting all his comments, and in that thread he denigrated and tried to humiliate people that had literally put a GiveSendGo together to keep said ShadoHand from becoming homeless. So, after that inimitable display of gratitude he was unceremoniously booted from SG.
The thread commenting on the last post I did on this stripe-chested phenomenon at SG is quite hilarious too and also became quite voluminous, and I think may still be going.
But would a simple banning get in the way of ShadoHand? Never!
So he came back here, apparently totally oblivious of his own deep fetish for public humiliation, and commented. He took great exception for some reason to the comment made by Tarcisus:
But don’t worry, it wasn’t a completely unhinged comment or anything that he responded with:
I mean, you can see the direct flow and congruency, can’t you?
And so, I confess, we must obviously recognise the superior absolutely non-Gamma nature of ShadoHand. I therefore, respond for both myself, and for Tarcisius, with a background of Gold, for our not at all secret King Shado-he-of-the-Hand:
Well, Tarcisius, I hope you learnt your lesson! Making children is a Gamma trait according to the ever wise and stripe-chested ShadoHand! What can we do friend, Perhaps we need to start our own Gamma recovery programme. But how, o HOW will we manage it without the wisdom of this obvious Chad-Alpha-Sigma-Double Zeta to lead us? And without weighted backpacks on steel bicycles with four cold showers? Oh life is pain, we will never achieve such heights. We may as well resign ourselves to making more children with pretty women that love us; we can’t all be like the Giga-Chad ShadoHand, who uses his Hand so fast, and all the time, that it’s his own Shado he copulates with, perennially, in the true honourable fashion of the Master Race (if short-lived) of MGTOW!
Behold the glory of ShadoHand, rejecting the women even as they applaud him! And don’t be fooled by his beard, since he says beards are Gamma, this was unavoidable, when he crossed the Sahara on his bicycle in only 40 hours, his beard grows faster because of all the pent up brilliance.
In a SHOCKING turn of events, the gamma I posted about in the last post went ahead and commented on it.
In the interest of Gamma Education and General Entertainment, let us gently and Kurganly dissect the comment and related behaviour. For science, you understand. And your general amusement as well as mine.
Yeah. So I used to train CrossFit everyday, and ride my bike 30 miles+ a day in all weather conditions. Took 4 cold showers a day too. Also had a six pack and striations in my chest.
The Gamma wants us to know he cycles. He is clearly on the way to working his way to double Sigma though, because he does not mention in excruciating detail and 14 paragraphs why wearing cyclist clothing is Alpha and why their helmets are the sexiest helmets.
Why he thinks telling me about his six pack, and whatever striations in his chest are is of any relevance to me or anyone else, except possibly Chuck Tingle of Hugo Award fame, is beyond me, but the Gamma also wants me to know he takes 4 cold showers a day. Is this to let me know how often he has to quench his ardour when he thinks about me? I am sure I prefer not to know.
Yet that’s not Delta? That’s…..Gamma? Okay.
Our Gamma ShadoHand seems to think doing physical exercise automatically makes him a Delta. Apparently totally oblivious to the fact that Deltas would go to the gym for themselves, and not even think of stating their routine as some form of posturing. So you cycle, so you CrossFit (if that’s not a red flag I don’t know what is!), so you shower, errr…. how can put this as delicately as possible: Who the fuck cares? And why do you think ANYONE cares at all? Why? And why do you think being a Gamma precludes you from cycling? Or showing, or skipping rope and playing hopscotch for that matter?
I love how I busted your balls a little and you made a post about it. It’s literally 666kb when viewed on my laptop web browser. Not in the download drop down, but on the actual payhip download page.
Reading comprehension among Gammas is low, much like in scorned women. He is incapable of grasping the basic concept that the post was about his gaminess and his little attempt at “humour” was already a clear indicator of his place in the SSH. The usual “plausible denial” (if you’re retarded) in order to try and show what a smartboi(tm) you are. Which was replied to in humorous fashion and that would be the end of it. Except, to no one’s surprise, the Gamma can never not have the last word. Except when it shows him up, which is why he has since deleted that thread on SG.
The point is, WHO CARES about the 666kb your browser shows…. oh seriously, who the fuck cares? No one. The ONLY purpose of making that comment was to “plausibly deny” the validity or nature or general positive aspect of the book. A book he bought and presumably wanted to read to improve his lot in life, which, in case it was not clear before, is a desert of intimacy only raging Gamma incels experience. And all I am doing here and in the last post is showing people something Uncle John’s Band described that is a useful skill for those who can do it: Single data point pattern recognition. And I am showing all the steps because I have weird hobbies, and deconstructing the unconscious motivations of other humans is interesting to me, which one might have guessed if one was observant enough to see I spent years researching, studying and learning about the human mind and practicing clinical hypnosis. So, rejoice, you have now come to the attention of the interested Kurgan eyes. Enjoy the warmth.
Also I’ve run so fast on a treadmill I’ve broken them at multiple gyms. I also got banned from planet fitness for running too fast on the treadmill. I have video evidence of the latter. But that’s Gamma? Okay partner.
HE RUNS FAST, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! And showers! And Cycles! And probably puts his pants on one leg at a time! Be impressed, men! Be Swooned, ladies!
And, OH MAH GAWD… he’s a veritable REBEL! Banned you see, BANNED from Planet Fitness! for running like the Flash! And… (drumroll please)
HE HAS VIDEO EVIDENCE!!!!
Can you contain yourself ladies? Can you? Are you not all clapping and throwing your panties at the imaginary stage the imaginary secret king is standing on, with striated chest and Sixpack and four cold shower jets spraying at him while he cycles on a standing bike on top of a treadmill?
I know, I know, he’s irresistible. And don’t forget, he doesn’t tip waitresses. He’s too manly for that.
This is literally making me burst out into spontaneous laughter for a few seconds whenever I think of it, so I wanted to share the joy.
Please read this post at Sigma Game to have the best reaction.
Then read this screenshot from the comments on that post.
Keep in mind this guy is the same one that did this a few days ago, and I had no idea who the Sigma Game post was about as I had not read the comments on the related post.
And my response:
But he’s not a Gamma ladies and gentlemen, he’s obviously an Alpha-Sigma Double Zeta. Or perhaps it got to 666Kb and he is now possessed! In which case I suggest exorcism, self-flagellation and regular lifting of weights in the Gym for at least a year along with the full confession and baptism. I am sure he’ll get right on it without complaint!
Look, I am grateful the guy bought a book, of course, but I sincerely would be even happier if he read it and used it and evolved to a Delta using the links in it to the Graduating Gamma series of posts archived here.
Mommy’s boy “president” Macron, has been doing what mommy’s boys in playgrounds where their mommy is also their teacher, have been doing forever: He’s been shooting his mouth of as if he was some big, tough, schoolyard manly, man.
The reality, of course is that the only reason no one has bitchslapped him and then flushed his head into the nearest urinal/toilet while giving him an atomic wedgie, is purely because Mommy (the USA) is looking over the playground. But the fact is that Mommy is tired, and has the principal looking over her shoulder (Israel) who has had quite enough of Emannule, or Emmy, as he is known to everyone in the playground, because mommy’s boy is a blusterful, emotional, effemminate little runt, that has only ever been seen kissing mommy, and holding hands with some of the immigrant boys that live near the school, but never an actual girl.
And at least one of the other teachers is not best pleased with Emmy. And hasn’t been for a long time, at least since 2018 when she complained about Emmy’s behaviour and choice of friends from outside the school grounds that he brought into the cafeteria that one time.
The problem is that there is this new exchange student in the school. From Moscow. He’s a patient kid. Took the bullying egged on by the principal of all people, in stride. Got pushed around a bit by a Ukrainian kid who just kept harassing the Russian boy for a long while. And always egged on by the principal of all people. Turns out the Principal hates Russians. A long story about some Russians holding their ground back in his grandfather’s day or something. Anyway, eventually the Russian kid had enough and kicked the shit out of the Ukrainian kid.
The Principal made it known he would do nothing if any of the kids in school were to teach that Russian kid a lesson, but the problem is that the Russian kid was picked up by his dad that day and his dad had bright blue eyes that looked very intense, like he’d been in wars, and he had. And he had a weird tattoo on one forearm that said Hypersonic and on the other that said NukeSubsin your Port. It’s odd tats to have, to be sure, but the thing is he glanced at the Principal of the school when he picked his kid up, and since then the principal has been very quiet about pretty much everything.
And now Emmy is shooting his mouth off, saying he can beat that Russian up, and he isn’t afraid of no Ivans, and blah, blah, blah.
In the meantime, the Russian kid is now going up to each of the bullies that stole his lunch money from him and some of the other smaller kids too and having a bit of a look. He goes up to them with the Ukrainian kid in tow, who just keeps his eyes down now and does whatever the Russia kid tells him. And now he’s looking at this big stupid girl called Moldova, who has been harassing the crap out of this little girl calle Trini Sinistra, and the Russian kid looks at Moldova, then he slaps the Ukrainian boy right in the mouth and says “Odessa. Move it”. And the Ukrainian kid you can see really doesn’t want to but is going to take off his watch, that is an Odessa brand apparently. And the Russian kid keeps looking at Moldova, daring her to do or say anything. And there are a few other kids now following the Russian kid, hoping that the Russian kid and this other big, quiet Chinese guy who seems to be his friend, might help them get their shit back from the Principal’s office, which got confiscated over the years.
And there is Emmy, shooting his mouth off, thinking his aging Mommy will protect him while she breast-feeds him like she does every night, even though he is 13.
Well, it’s not really going to work out so good for Emmy. Everyone can see it but him. Even Mommy can, most likely. But she’s getting on a bit and is tired, and she doesn’t have it in her anymore to fight all his battles. it’s all she can do to keep breastfeeding him and telling him he’s her special boy. And she falls asleep every night she starts to think maybe it will be fine, maybe she won’t wake up anymore. Problem is, at the rate he’s going, Emmy might get a bloody nose. Well, she’d think maybe it would even do him some good, but who’s she kidding, she knows, it won’t. She knows Emmy is gay, always has been. Born that way. He can’t help it, and he’ll never be one of the big boys he so desperately wants to belong to. Well maybe he’ll get lucky. Maybe one of the immigrant bigger kids will take him on and marry him after she goes for the long sleep. That’s her hope anyway.
Vampire Hunter Kits
Supposedly from the 19th century. I have no idea if they are real or fake, but I’d like to think they are very real… and were needed!
I mean… God knows if this is all you had for the next Davos gathering, you would be woefully under-armed.
You might be interested in the following posts:
By G | 1 May 2024 | Posted in Ancient Technology, Humour, Social Commentary, StCZA - Module 0, StCZA - Q.O.R.G.