“We reserve the right to refuse using my service to further someone’s disgusting immorality” -14 words of an evil, hate-filled Christian baker in Colorado who refused to contribute his artistry to a “gay wedding cake” that was requested to feature a bug-chaser sucking shit off the dick of a gift-giver.
14 words of tolerance
“We reserve the right to refuse using my service to further someone’s disgusting immorality” -14 words of various co-conspirators in Zionists’ financial hegemony, who Zionist-listed (i.e. “black-listed” by Zionists) Faith Goldy from various income sources, including Patreon and PayPal, as a warning to others that they better not repeat or even tolerate Faith Goldy’s evil, hate-filled wrong-thought.
14 words of liberalism
“The purpose of life is to infest government, and then force others to obey.” -14 words of Various anti-freedom “liberals” and “conservatives,” squandering their speck of life on vanity and delusion.
14 words of Feminism
“Today is the day that anti-freedom terrorism-enablers of YouTube need to die” -14 words of Nasim Najafi Aghdam, aka some Persian with bad aim, whose only kill-shot was friendly-fire against her own head.
14 words of pawns
“QUICK CALL THE EVIL RACIST WHITE COPS! SOMEONE IS IGNORING OUR GUN-FREE ZONE SIGNS!” -14 words of the disarmed feeder-sheep of YouTube, beset by the incompetence of Nasim Najafi Aghdam aka a Persian who killed herself because she was not pretty enough to make a fortune by putting her fingers inside her holes for a cam-show advertised on YouTube.
14 more words of pawns
“So glad that’s over–now let’s resume abetting incitement through media for socialist politicians.” -14 words of slithering YouTube minders and terrorist sympathizers, whose time will come.
Currently, I am curating content for my Bitchute account. And as I sort through my thousands of YouTube uploads, most of which are set as “private” to avoid their destruction; I am reminded of, as Kipling put it, how often it is that people suffer the breaking of those things to which they have given their life–leaving them with only two options: continue or quit.
Years before the mediocre mentors of millenials–as no Senecas to Neros–began begging to be pitied for the socialist roadblocks which hamper their erudite diarrhea–a black drug-addict named Rodney King was politically celebrated, socially hallowed, and morally hollowed for having been beaten out of his PCP-raged crime-spree by cops.
Soon after, in the Los Angeles race-riots that ensued, Korean shops were left alone–because the wild raging fury of white leftists’ black pets does not at all extend to those Koreans armed to defend themselves against the incitement-of-the-moment by liberal pseudo-journalist whores who deserve to die.
However, Reginald Denny was not an armed Korean shop-owner: He was just a lone white truck-driver, minding his own business–the perfect target for pitiful, poop-colored political-hyenas. And so they beat Denny VERY close to death–all while laughing and dancing.
Years later, millionaire drug-addict Rodney King spent the last moments of his life drowning in puke and pool-water — a final reward for his lifelong habit of cramming his body with all kinds of drugs.
Years after that, a relatively penniless Denny, during a “where are they now” interview, when asked how he is doing, replied to the effect of: “Well enough. And anyways, in life I’ve learned that people don’t really want to know how others are–it makes them feel obligated.”
The world has many continuums. One continuum has a pole of heroes like Reginald Denny–forgotten yet timeless; with an opposite pole containing the disposable celebrities who never really existed. And choices matter.
The appeal and approval is readily apparent of those men who retreat least and last—if ever—into the womanly groveling of smirks and laughs.
The frailty, cowardice, and indecision which causes a man to limp into a conversational fetal-position must spike always the immediate derision of all men—as it does among all women—who aim to ascertain whom to respect, and thus to trust.
Moreover, the man without enough strength, sense, and diligence to deign a moderated mirror of another’s deference—such a man, as strange as it at first seems, is—and always will be—measured lowest of all.
Yet multipled as worse still are those pairs of men who, upon failing to figure who must adjust, have not thought on how to tie smoothly, together, and depart from that part of the social scene—whose indelicate huffs instead indelibly mar that harmony which, barring the possibility of outright aggression, is always the point of such posturing in the first place.
It is a testament to the supremacy of subtext—whether of rulers’ clearsightedness & myopia, else ruled’s ignorance & agoraphobia, or a mix of these, else some other thing entirely—that a sober, objective analysis of these casts of castes, both natural and contrived, evades evincing in popular parlance among the various self-slaved-plantations whose blood and pus oils all pretended progress throughout a “civilized world” whose sole unique rightful claim, and manifest intent, is to having conceptualized the most immense and ostentatious oxymoron—in history, indeed imaginable.
Whereas, instead, continuous “shoulds” and “woulds” and “coulds” pepper, primp, and prime—plague—perceptions of, and perspectives on, “is;” with, thereafter, collateral clamoring for the fraud of fickle, feeble, fecal feeling—with often not a mention, or even thought, of faith in fact—as collusion more than commensurate to even the central delusion.
Thence flurried worry devouring sense not to quench thirsty deities beside burning nurseries—vast forests vanished fervently behind tiny trees, as frantic facades and manic machinations for seeming outpace earnest plans to be; at times with an event-horizon, extending beyond all practicality to leverage such seeming into being—eventually.
Dateline three days from now—because that’s how losers roll at People Magazine, whose February 4 cover features “RAISED BY A SERIAL KILLER: At 26, Kerri Rawson learned the dad she adored had a horrifying secret: He was also the notorious serial killer BTK. how she coped-and finally found peace.”
Lost within the murder-porn marketed as adrenaline to living-dead-losers is the fact that Dennis Lynn Rader, aka the BTK (Bondage Torture Kill) serial killer, had himself conspired with journalist as worthless as those now festering at People–to brand Rader with the BTK moniker, as a quid pro quo, where Rader got the aura he craved, and pseudo-journalist whores got the leverage to sell, to advertisers, the attention of adrenaline-addicted eunuchs, by sensationalizing death.
Similarly, that same caliber of media-whores conspired with treasonous traitors of the presidential administration of George W. Bush—as well as a Congress containing treasonous traitors Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, and John McCain, among others—to sensationalize USA’s terrorism against Iraq on behalf of the anti-Jewish atheist-terrorist State of occupied Palestine, as a synthesis to the 9/11 false-flag orchestrated against the United States by its government and Mossad terrorists, to frighten U.S. citizens into murderous cowardice. Whereupon they branded their terrorism in Iraq and beyond as “OPERATION IRAQI FREEDOM”—brought by the same death-worthy domestic terrorists who inflicted the U.S.A.P.A.T.R.I.O.T. Act onto USA’s citizenry.
Meanwhile, the most murderous terrorist during USA’s aggression against the Middle East was Chris Kyle, a monkey with a gun whose 160 or so murders included far more than zero mothers, children, and other non-resisters of USA’s unprovoked terrorism in Iraq and elsewhere.
Coming up never: “RAISED BY A SERIAL KILLER” sexy death-porn about Chris Kyle’s kid.
Meanwhile, any serial killer with any sense would rather have the kill-count of credulous cog Chris Kyle than the pitiful legacy of Dennis “BTK” Rader, who was out murdering far longer than Chris “murder is patriotism” Kyle—but could only manage to murder 10 nobodies, including the sister of some nobody named Kevin.
On Dec 2, 1958, new blood joined this earth, and quickly was subdued: through constant, pained disgrace–the young boy learned our rules. What he felt, and what he’d known, never shined through in what he’d shown: Never be, never see–won’t see what might have been.
Mark Hills was a lover of music who would’ve easily caught the Metallica homage in the previous paragraph. Through Mark’s DJ equipment during the small part of their life in which he was involved, Mark’s children learned to numb the world with music.
Mark died on January 7, 2019. Throughout his life, arbiters of the corrupt culture that killed Mark Edward Hills–they labeled him as he would have labeled them: unforgiven.
The embattled and beaten son of long-dead drunk Thomas J., Mark Hills grew up among many petty pseudo-puritans, as an emotionally confused and sexually constricted child.
“If it’s young and has a penis — I’m gonna fuck it, and I’m gonna suck it, until my poison starts spraying!” -Mark Edward Hills, former Public Relations Vice President for the North American Man-boy Love Association (NAMBLA).
Decades later, in a letter sent from his cold and stinking cage, Mark would confide to his daughter about the sexual purgatory that he had endured during his childhood, which had relegated Mark to discovering sexuality not through the normalcy of heterosexual experience or even instruction:
Instead, Mark’s proud and prudish parents, preachers, and teachers simply withheld, from boys such as Mark, any and all knowledge of girls and women; and so Mark was condemned, from his earliest sexual experiences until his last, to slither in the shadows of social-disdain and self-disgust — sucking his shit off of other boys’ penises, and having them suck their shit off of his.
Later from that jail cell, after mixing up a page meant for another condemned and sending it as part of a long letter to his daughter, Mark talked of his happiness during shit-covered orgies in the prison showers–confiding accidentally to his shocked daughter (and to me, his daughter’s then-husband) that which he had intended to confide only to a particular member of the shit-covered orgies: That the particular member was Mark’s favorite, that amid the furious festivals of shit, cum, and occasional blood–through it all, Mark held a special place in his rectal heart for that guy.
Finally Mark had fully embraced the living-hell into which he had been flung as a child. Mark Hills never lived to see miserable victims such as himself championed as “gay heroes” among a death-cult addicted to depopulation conspiracies.
Similarly, predeceasing Mark was his first grandchild, whom his daughter and ex-wife conspired to legally murder in order to preserve the daughter’s potential to earn a piece of paper by proving that she can sit in rows and fill out forms. (More than a decade later, Mark’s murderer-daughter, once beautiful and blissful but by then bloated and boorish by a life spent hating life, finally limped her way to the paltry paper, and spent the rest of her life pretending to believe that such a silly reward was worth having murdered her child.)
When Mark was a child, men and boys who were tortured into wasting their time and potential through homosexualism–they were almost always further scapegoated and terrorized for acting on that deviant coping-mechanism.
And when that terrorizing finally happened to Mark, the soulless journalistic parasites–desperate to report first on the drama–who swarmed Mark’s young wife (aka the woman who was formerly her own father’s rape-toy, and who would later murder her own first grandchild while chasing the mythical “greater good” of her chubby, boring daughter’s academic knighthood), also swarmed Mark’s young children–ages ~3 to ~7–at the same time: shouting questions at them all about their opinion of the homosexual child-rapist for whom they had, for the entirety of most of their short lives, served as a beard.
Mark Edward Hills is dead now. He probably died of AIDS, or some other disease of misery and neglect. In any case, he died as he lived: a scapegoat of the kind of culture that would level 28 charges, including 21 felonies, against a lifelong victim of arrested-development–as punishment for the overgrown child continuing the only coping-mechanism that he was ever consistently afforded: Consensual sex with other miserable, neglected, tortured boys.
His children, saturated by their obedient reverence for the death-cult, hardly noticed the vanishing of their patriarch, as they continued their hobbling sprint towards their own early ends–just a few more scrambled sacrifices to a utopia promised (always to others) by the death-cult.
Eventually, this unflattering eulogy was discovered by those who never knew Mark died, as well as those who had long-since happily moved on from using Mark’s slow and painful death merely as a reference-point for their own slow and boring lives; and all the fake rage that any of them could pretend to wage–was squandered, yet again, into their howls against reality.
And the more informed of them readily declared, “Now, I’m certain that this evil Lucifer Russ Lindquist deserved to have his children–Mark’s grandchildren–stolen and estranged from him, for disclosing to them that, before they were born, their grandmother wanted them too to be quick, convenient deaths.”
And in the blink between his cage and coffin–Mark Hills, raped raper of children, visited with Russ’s children, whom, by that time, Russ had not seen in nearly a decade; because diseased child-rapists can be easily reintegrated into the lives of the living-dead — far more easily than it is to reintegrate those who tell inconvenient truth.
As cultural cock-fighting contiues, with the barely-intelligible black pets of white plutocrats culturally appropriating English and modern communication technology to whine and brag about some white loser having ‘culturally appropriated’ some degenerate habit from some black loser—tucked away in recent history are two better examples of cultural appropriation:
The nazi frauds of Hitlerism, too limp to inspire on their own, appropriated ‘swastikas’ thereby to lean on, and mask themselves by, Asian cultures that were far more impressive than Hitlerism.
The atheist frauds of Zionism, too limp to inspire on their own, appropriated the ‘star of david’ and the name ‘Israel’ thereby to lean on, and mask themselves by, a Jewish culture far more impressive than Zionism.