Remember when a giant Japanese guy and an american Firefighter got bored at an MMA event and became best friends after agreeing backstage to land haymakers at eachothers face until they fall over to make the crowd roar
@PlayApex Apex Legends is too busy being proud about what they do with their fucking genitals & trying to trans children to FIX THEIR SERVERS, which have been crashing for 2 hours.
Go back to sucking commy dick & quit pretending you are gamers
A Hindu woman devotee refused her priest’s dirty proposal to “worship him” in a private room, so the holy Pundit assaulted her and dragged her across the ground by her hair.
She screamed “Save me… save me!” but nobody heard, because she dared to go against the sacred Hindu spiritual ritual.
Indonesian AI slop factories usher in a Renaissance for the silent nickelodeon film, a several second passing novelty for the uninvested viewer to spend a portion of their fleeting attention. Yet, we gain insight into their sordid third world psychology despite the mundanity.
Narratively we are immediately poised to despise the little parasite, Tung Tung Tung Sahur. He is an invader clad in a sociopathic placid expression betraying a complete lack of comprehension in the existence of anyone outside of himself. His behavior goes further than the classic mischievous cartoon pest archetype.
When Jerry steals cheese or places rat traps on Tom's tail, he definitively acknowledges the cat's existence as a rival and enemy to torment. There's no recognition in Tung Tung Tung Sahur's eyes. He does not even process the pickle man's conscious being. His pickle body is a mere environment to manipulate to Sahur's will. The dynamic is made disturbing in that his act is a form of mutilation, carried out so casually with a twin connotation of biological invasion that the viewer is disturbed but compelled to continue watching.
Entering the pickle chamber, we find a gherkin centered inside the pickle man's cavernous abdomen. The first thing Sahur does is chop it down and eat its detritus, taking a moment to savor it. The phallic nature of the obelisk reinforces the sexual element of Sahur's trangression. In entering the pickleman and chopping down his interior pickle, the sole focus of this empty room inside him as if it were a temple built to worship his very form as a pickle, Sahur seems to be destroying the essence of the pickle's being, an act of spiritual (or possibly literal) castration. He eats his soul and then begins his laborious construction.
Both the disturbing act of entering another being and the phallic symbolism of the pickle suggest this as a sexual metaphor for rape, castration, total humiliation. Our instincts are confirmed when we cut to the pickle looking down in horror to see his crotch replaced with a sterile metal pad. Yet Sahur's interior actions are not motivated by any power dynamic or biological compulsion.
In rape, there is at least an essence of the rapist acknowledging the personhood of the victim by nature of their consciousness being the fuel for the pleasure. In a fetishist's psychology, resistance reinforces the forbidden "breaking" as a mechanism to further the indulgence. Even if the rapist is a low vibration savage merely requiring a warm body as a masturbatory act, the fact that the victim is a human being who is alive or at least was at one point is a part of the exchange.
Sahur shows no comprehension he's even aware that the pickle is alive or anything other than an environment to pilfer from. His role in this is more akin to a termite or a virus, something so distant from the species that he only processes the slumbering pickle as an available mass to harvest. All of this completes the viewer's disgust as we watch the pickle crawling in desperation. The initial framework is complete and our sympathies and contempt are pushed to their extreme opposites for each character.
Yet, right at the moment the light bulb appears above the pickle's eyes, he makes a disturbing facial expression of his own. His initial sympathetic despair is replaced by the same uncanny valley contempt we felt for Sahur. Our emotions are not guided by the logic of the actions taking place or the relational dynamic, but rather our immediate impulses when observing faces.
Both the pickle and Sahur, and this format of AI slop at large all converge towards a stylistic aesthetic that creates contempt in the sentient portion of the audience. The suggestively fetishistic way they make faces, the combination of detail and cartoonish simplicity, the CGI motifs harvested from years of Pixar films mixed with the jerky rapidity of internet flash form content, all of it combines into an immediate red flag in our minds.
The video itself is like Sahur, a parasite that seeks to insert itself into our conscious memory while taking away our attention span and contributing to a psychological rot. The art reflects the nature of the artist, a third world machine built to churn out garbage for the sake of pilfering pennies through an armada of botted accounts. A parasite revealing itself and its methodology through a Greek chorus confessing its sins.
As the video progresses, Sahur's construction becomes more aesthetically pleasant. The foil and insulation get replaced with wood paneling, pleasant lighting, and serene minimalist sauna aesthetics. The pickle simultaneously engages in an act of obnoxious dancing while vacuuming his crotch. His irreverence betrays him as a being as equally vapid, selfish, and disturbing as Sahur. No longer are we sympathetic to him while growing a fondness for Sahur's labors. Reinforced by the satisfying ASMR construction timelapse, we gain a respect for the little wooden creature. He is carving out a solemn serenity for himself.
Suddenly we are reminded of humanity, burrowing into nature and turning it into something habitable for our own species. Sahur's endeavors are the Apollonian order, a perfect grid imposing itself on the chaotic bulbous curvature of the Dionysian wild pickle interior. As he violates the pickle and cooks it from inside, so too have we suffocated Mother Nature with concrete and built tombs out of the corpses of her children for us to live in. The vile despotism of Sahur as he chops down the sacred obelisk pickle in the beginning of the video could mirror that of the 18th century whaler toppling a leviathan cachalot just to harvest its ambergris and leave its body to rot.
This shift in perspective comes just in time for us to despise the pickle as he vacuums away Tung Tung Tung Sahur. Why is he so smug and nonchalant? When I heal from a contracted fever or excise a parasite, I'm not spiteful as if conquering an enemy. I am relieved, grateful, and exhausted from the ordeal. The emotional display suggests to the viewer that Sahur's actions are near inconsequential, nothing that occurs in this constructed universe denotes any sense of stake or value in any life whatsoever.
Rewatching the looping video several times finalizes this sentiment. Sahur is no longer hated or loved, the pickle is neither sympathized with or demonized. All parties are the same little morbid sociopaths who act in complete self interest, stuck in a loop of mutilating and harvesting each other mindlessly as they each strive towards a Samsara of hedonistic bliss in their consumerist oasis. We are only left with contempt for all parties involved, a glimpse into their fucked up hell world mirroring the state the video's creator lives in. A third world shithole filled with thieving victims and rapists, occupying both roles simultaneously for each conscious participant. Casualties of the IQ rift that forever removes them from a time preference in which consequence becomes apparent.
Thus we reach the modern day nickelodeon. It's silent era film because you never actually open the video to hear the noises. The sound is just arbitrary, you not only hesitate but deliberately avoid unmuting because you can intuit the video is an infohazard. Nothing about it makes you want to further your understanding of it and the only thing you're left with is a wish that you never saw it in the first place.
You conclude with a sickening understanding that algorithmic thinking encroaches on the human essence of our existence. Everything that makes us feel alive, everything that makes life matter, everything that makes our souls worth anything is oppositional to material reality. The omnivorous incentives of biological reality are an obstacle towards the metaphysical fruits of consciousness.
Everything that feeds our emotional well being exists in the immaterial state. The impositions of physical reality are obstacles towards that well being. The body and its continued processes impede upon our senses, the need to sleep, the need to sweat, breathe, shit, and piss. To bleed, to hunger, to ravage, to persist. Angels are disgusted by the earthly act of eating food, harvesting corpses for our own sustenance. They live in the same realm you visit when you dream, a place where all things are guided by the emotional impact and their own ecosystem of competition is driven on the currency of the feeling and the concept.
A being solely rooted in physical reality disregards feeling and idea, only seeking to harvest matter and accumulate mass. This is the third world mind, this is the large language model. All algorithms, all mathematical entropy constantly pursuing an antihuman state of existence. Such as Sahur enters the pickle and violates its environment, so too does the Indonesian slop factory invade the metaphysical consciousness and contort it towards serving the lowest vibrational reflexive impulses of disgust and amusement.
As much as they project their own base impulses onto their demonic tulpas, they also admit their inevitable demise. There's some subconsciousness acknowledgement of the impermanence of this state, a fleeting moment in time when they can still scrape revenue from the walls of the internet's tomb.
Soon their algorithms will harvest them too and nobody will be needed to make this content.
After, nobody will be needed to consume the content.
After that? God turns on His vacuum cleaner.
Because being able to think about and discuss ideas without accepting them as fact or identity makes low IQ people furious. So you either have to accept constant anger or hide who you are. I don’t think it’s a curse but it’s understandable why people would.
You also can track patterns and effects far out into the future, so you have to watch people self destruct. And when you tell them what you see they think you’re full of hate or “unhinged” and keep self destructing and there’s nothing you can do about it besides accept it
NUCLEAR POWER.
IT DOESN'T CARE IF THE SUN'S SHINING OR THE WIND'S BLOWING.
IT DOESN'T NEED BATTERIES FULL OF COBALT OR LITHIUM DUG UP BY CONGOLESE CHILD SLAVES IN CHINESE-OWNED MINES.
AND IT HAS LOWER LIFETIME GREENHOUSE GAS EMISSIONS THAN SOLAR, AND ABOUT THE SAME AS WIND.
IT'S NOT EVIL DEVIL MAGIC. IT'S METAL THAT GETS HOT AND BOILS WATER TO MAKE STEAM THAT TURNS TURBINES.
THERE'S NO SMOKE. THE SHIT THAT COMES OUT OF THE COOLING TOWER IS JUST STEAM.
NUCLEAR PRODUCES AT LEAST A HUNDRED TIMES LESS RADIOACTIVE POLLUTION THAN COAL WHICH CONTAINS TRACE RADIOACTIVE ELEMENTS WHICH GO INTO THE AIR WHEN BURNED.
NUCLEAR POWER DOESN'T HAVE THIS PROBLEM BECAUSE ALL NUCLEAR WASTE IS CONTAINED, AND NO NUCLEAR WASTE CASKET HAS EVER LEAKED IN THE HISTORY OF AMERICAN NUCLEAR POWER.
NUCLEAR POWER IS SAFE.
IT'S EFFECTIVE.
IT DOES LESS DAMAGE TO THE ENVIRONMENT THAN COAL, OR EVEN WIND AND SOLAR WHICH REQUIRE A FUCK TON OF LAND AND TOXIC METALS FOR WHICH WE HAVE NO PLAN TO DEAL WITH.
NUCLEAR POWER IS THE CLOSEST THING TO A PERFECT ENERGY SOURCE THE HUMAN SPECIES HAS EVER DISCOVERED.
WE'VE HAD THE TECHNOLOGY SINCE THE 1950S. IF WE EMBRACED IT FROM THE START, WE WOULDN'T HAVE CLIMATE CHANGE TODAY. WE COULD HAVE HAD ALL OF THE AIR CONDITIONING WE EVER WANTED, ALONG WITH EVERY OTHER MODERN CONVENIENCE WE'RE CONSTANTLY SHAMED FOR TODAY.
BUT WE SAID NO.
WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE DOING AS A SPECIES?
ARE WE FUCKING RETARDED?
Holy shit??? The cannibalism is wild on the left.
The dude we all would cover our drinks for and hide our kids from isnt extreme enough for the freaks.
Its amazing this extremism lasted as long as it did but wow. I cant wait to see how leftists deal with their own civil war.
Now if only we could squash the republicans……then we can start the chess board over which is what we desperately need……
You mock Christians for worshipping the Creator who took on human flesh to save us. Meanwhile, you bow 5 times a day toward a hollow brick cube, and fight crowds to kiss a black meteorite because a 7th-century man told you to (Bukhari 1597). Spare us your lectures on rational worship!
Un asiático travestido estaba haciendo stream y un negro bravucón se le acercó diciendo que no le grabe, empezaron a pelear y el bravucón terminó desamayado por la llave que le hizo el asiático. Esto es como los juegos de hambre versión woke.
@Selamsll@illustriou58282@realMaalouf Wrong is still wrong. Anyone messing with children deserves their heads cut off or be put to death by gunshot bullet. Whether they are Muslim or not. And if he is Muslim, it's still bad. Islam promotes pedophilia and deserves the same punishment.
A man in Marseille, France’s second largest city, shows the situation in his neighborhood since North Africans started moving in.
“They throw all their garbage out of their windows. We are living in literal shit. We never asked for this.”
No one should have to live like this.
@snowstormyou@realMaalouf@paperboynyc I hate dumb females like this.
I really do.
I would enjoy the schadenfreude of their own consequences if it weren't for the fact they will visit this evil on MY daughters and granddaughters too.
Squandering our birthright and Western privilege. Leftist "feminists" SUCK.
I don’t want Caitlin Clark to get special treatment.
I want equal, fair, and appropriate treatment.
When something egregious happens, the league should step up and make it right. When something is blown out of proportion, the league should do nothing.
But right now, the @WNBA is not beating the allegations.
Carter, Carrington, Sheldon, Mabrey, Thomas, the list goes on.
Not a single suspension. That's enabling.
Meanwhile you issue Clark a technical and a fine for clapping. What message does that send?
Too many missed calls. Not enough corrections.
Too much media pride in physicality and league-wide weirdness around the biggest box office star the league has ever had.
It's pretty simple.
Protect shooters. Protect landing space. Punish non-basketball plays. Call the first foul, not just the retaliation. And if you miss it, make it right.
That’s not special treatment.
That’s competent league management.
Even at its absolute best, a localized spectacle like splitting the moon is a pedestrian climax. It falls into the same category as Moses parting the Red Sea: a raw command over nature, but one that completely misses the point of an ending.
If theology is God’s ultimate art form, then the sequence of prophets is a story He is telling. The final act must contain and exceed everything that came before it, or the claim of finality is just an empty assertion.
What does earning that climax look like? Jesus is the only figure preceded by a dedicated prophet just to announce his arrival. John the Baptist’s whole ministry exists as an external credential for someone else.
Look at what Jesus does with the legacy before him. Moses gave manna, but Jesus feeds 5,000 with leftovers to spare. He performs miracles with zero prophetic precedent, like giving sight to a man born blind. Restoring sight is one thing; creating functional vision where it never existed is closer to original creation than healing.
Elijah raised one person, but Jesus raises three, culminating in a man four days decomposed, done publicly before his sharpest enemies. But even that undersells what is happening.
Every civilization has tried to solve death. The Egyptians built pyramids for immortality. Gilgamesh crossed the world searching for it. Silicon Valley billionaires burn fortunes trying to reverse aging right now. Death is the one wall every king, philosopher, and scientist has hit. Jesus doesn’t raise the dead as a demonstration of power; he does it as a declaration of war on death itself, and then he wins it emphatically. The Quran mixes things up but at the core presents Jesus as the only prophet who did not taste death.
The Quran also never warned Muhammad what it was doing to him. Surah 3:49 openly grants Jesus the grandest portfolio: creating life from clay, healing the blind and leper, and raising the dead. Yet, when Muhammad is pressed for spectacular signs in Surah 17:93, he retreats and says signs belong only to Allah. His own scripture gives the man he supersedes a far more spectacular miraculous record than he possesses.
If you are God and you have both figures in the arsenal, it makes zero narrative sense to put Jesus in the middle of the book. Why would the ultimate Author send a sinless, virgin-born Messiah who commands reality itself, only to follow him 600 years later with an illiterate prophet who needs his wife and her cousin to confirm his calling, marries a minor, and lives a highly contested historical life? It is a complete de-escalation of power and mystique.
The moon splitting comes with fewer witnesses, zero external corroboration, and no world-historical consequence. The Red Sea in contrast opened to birth a nation.
To defend this finality, Islam eventually retreats to the Quran as a literary miracle which is in itself comical. A book certifying its own author is not evidence. It is the exact thing that needs to be proven.
Christianity does not ask you to take its word for it. It points to prophecies written centuries before the birth they describe, fulfilled before hostile witnesses who wanted nothing more than to disprove them, culminating in a resurrection that broke the logic of human history. The finale has to earn its finality. Jesus did.
I’m a gay man. I know I am a man and proud to be a man and am attracted to other men. I have nothing in common with a transwoman who is a man who wants to be a woman, and is usually straight. I especially have nothing in common with the AGPs which is the vast majority of the current T. I definitely have nothing in common with a predatory straight man in a dress insisting he’s a woman and demanding access to women or he resorts to violence.
And I certainly have nothing to do with queers—mostly spicy straights with impulse control issues. Nor do I want to be associated with queer ideology when its roots are Marxism and pedophilia (Queer Theory’s founding document, Thinking Sex by Gayle Rubin, is over 50% a defense of pedophilia).
Somewhere between 78%-87% of the LGB want nothing to do with the TQ+. You want to tear down the society we fought to get into. We’re not coming back.