James Desborough reflects on the transience of cultural context and the role it plays in his novel, Old, Fat Punks
“The culture is now so hostile to the authentic, raw origination of ideas it looks downright suspicious. Is freezing evolution a good idea?”
“Expression without some semblance of discipline is just puerile narcissism. It’s the mentality of a toddler.“
Sociopaths are bound by their puppetmaster reality tunnels, and cannot imagine a world in which they are not pulling the strings.
When religiously satirical sex cartoons are described as bigotry and hatred, it is only because regressive leftists want to generalize a culture.
So, what is it that makes the lifestyle of a bunch of poorly muscled, knife wielding, futureless idiot criminals so tantalizing?
We do not appreciate that a wound is a wound and a death is a death, regardless of how they happened.
We pursue our nourishment from live human vessels and their distant cousins the mouth-breathing meme-aliens.
Authenticity as order-word. Revolution as order-word.
What of your precious Internet then, my prattling bloggites?