It’s gonna be nice to have two weeks off. I need it, honestly. I need to recharge my batteries. The only thing I need more is to go someplace warm with a beach. That’s coming in February, thank God. It’s needed, earned, and heavily anticipated.

You know, I’m actually kinda proud of humanity. Collectively we’ve risen up to say that we’re not really sad about Brian Thompson’s death, and honestly, we’ll fuckin do it again if we have to. It’s unfortunate that they’re going to make an example of Luigi. The country already has a disturbing obsession with serial killers. Honestly, Luigi is not a serial killer, but he has absolutely legitimized murder via his victim choice. Brian Thompson was a slug. A worm. He knew he was exploiting UnitedHealth customers. He did so with great chagrin. I’ve been wanting to talk about media coverage of the murder. Mostly I think the press is running with public support for Luigi for a few reasons. One, it’s impossible to miss. It’s the elephant in the room. Two, it’s a little sensationalist. Yes, it’s very true. Hell, I’m celebrating Brian Thompson’s death. Fuck that guy. Got what he fuckin deserved. I hope Luigi gets off for it, too. I feel bad for his family, but they’ve enjoyed growing fat like ticks off the backs of people paying premiums to UnitedHealth. I don’t feel that bad for them. Their loss is society’s gain. It is a fair trade.

A system of cells interlinked within cells interlinked within cells interlinked within one stem… And dreadfully distinct against the dark, a tall white fountain played.

Obvious Blade Runner fan if you couldn’t tell. I think I finally have a handle on this blog again. It only took me yet another eternity. What a wild journey, though. From Wordpress to Jekyl to Hugo. I’ve used all manner of text editors, including notepad and even a weird Android text editor. I’m not super happy with the present theme, but I think I’m happy enough to not fuck with it for a minute. I might give that ‘reTerminal’ theme another whack at some point. That’ll be a ways out, I think. The one thing I wish this theme had that other themes do would be at least a summary or small snippet of each post body on the main page. Currently it’s just a line-by-line of topics. It’s okay, but I would prefer at least some 100 or so characters of each post were wedged in there somewhere.

Haaaaaahahahahahahahahaha.

Dumb borderline bitch got what she absolutely had coming. Hilarious.

Ray William Johnson did his own breakdown, but either way it’s just hilarious to watch.

He gives some context you don’t see in the raw cop footage. The psycho bitch was trying to use driveway gravel as a makeshift knuckleduster to kick her boyfriend’s ass.

I really don’t know if this week and a half are gonna be enough time off to reclaim my sanity. It’s been a rough few, honestly. I’m not wildly excited about whatever the hell the future holds, and everything I’m doing right now is boring and feels like an immense burden. I haven’t touched my 3D printer at all, I don’t play any videogames anymore, and I really haven’t done shit with my computer. I’ve basically just watched TV. That’s it. That’s what I’m doing with my life now. I’m watching TV. Saying that’s depressing is missing the soul-sucking conditions that pull a person into such a miserable vacuum. The very first requirement is that you need a job to demoralize and demean. That’s pretty much every job in this economic climate. The second requirement is that your means of income has to be close enough to your hobbies that it gives you a sincere distaste for them.

The holidays are drawing nigh. You’d think that massive loads of time off would be the most joyous event in my life, at least if you knew me. But it’s a dual-edge sword. Yes, the time off is fantastic. No, what we’re expected to do with that time off is absolutely infinitely less than fantastic. It’s actually bullshit when you think critically about it. Yet if that expectation didn’t exist we wouldn’t get that time off. They’re inextricably linked and also polar opposites. I dunno. It’s all kinda just bullshit to me.

In case you missed the title of this post; I’m intending to eviscerate the Christian Zionist movement and lay bare what it really is. Of course, I don’t have a lot of work to do with this post, as honestly Christian Zionists are a very lonely handful of people. The reasons for this are bountiful.

First and foremost, Christian Zionism is one of those “Pia Fraus” situations. If you aren’t aware of what “Pious Fraud” means, it’s an ancient catholic doctrine that gave the church infinite leeway in doing inhumane and terrible things to whomever opposes the church. The tenet itself is simple: “Nothing that results in furtherance of church expansion or ideals could possibly be evil”. I mean, call me a sucker, but whenever a leader asks for infinite forgiveness the result is probably something uncharacteristically evil.

In case you’re ever screwed because you lost the hunk of aluminum they ship along with their units, you can easily either use this file to control your Freya with a flipper or use a flipper to program a replacement remote by “teaching” the new one with your flipper and this file.

Filetype: IR signals file
Version: 1
# 
name: VolUp
type: parsed
protocol: NECext
address: F1 1B 00 00
command: F2 0D 00 00
# 
name: VolDn
type: parsed
protocol: NECext
address: F1 1B 00 00
command: F3 0C 00 00
# 
name: Mute
type: parsed
protocol: NECext
address: F1 1B 00 00
command: F5 0A 00 00
# 
name: Input
type: parsed
protocol: NECext
address: F1 1B 00 00
command: F1 0E 00 00
# 
name: Gain
type: parsed
protocol: NECext
address: F1 1B 00 00
command: F4 0B 00 00

The holidays are horrible. They’re not necessarily inherently horrible, they’re fine. They’re whatever. It’s not my cup of tea, and the holidays themselves have no real meaning to me. They used to be about spending time with family and catching up. That did have meaning to me. I don’t get that anymore, though. My mom gatekeeps my family from me. She doesn’t want me around, and so I am not around. But I have nowhere to go for the holidays, I have nothing to do but contemplate what life would be like to have a real mother, and not whatever the hell I was saddled with.