by Mr. Mean-Spirited
You’ve got problems. You got to admit that you have quite a few defects. The more you try to hide your imperfections, the more obvious are your infirmities.
To be blunt, there is nothing whatsoever that you can do about your inadequacies. If you are shy, there is nothing at all you can do about your diffidence no matter how much you try to make things different. If you can’t pick-up women, you’re going to be just as lonely no matter how much money you spend on self-help seminars. If you are overweight, you can diet to your heart’s content—but you will gain the pounds back in just a few months. If you are an alcoholic, you can follow all the twelve-step programs you can handle, but you are still going to return to the bottle when no one is looking. If you stutter, you can do as much therapy as you can afford, but you will still stumble over your words.
Self-improvement is just a form of self-deception. Progress is just a way of pretending that things are different than they actually are. If you are a worthless piece of shit, positive thinking is only going to make you more of a turd.
Self-improvement makes you're a more socially acceptable part of the herd. Making yourself a better person is just another form of conformity to social norms. There is a reason why liberals will usually be wearing a toupee; there is a reason why bureaucrats will cover their cubicle walls with motivational posters. Self-improvement is the way the humanitarian establishment runs its own re-education program. It is always cheaper for the ruling class to encourage self-service brainwashing.
An individualist deals with reality as it is—while a loser always wants to improve himself. A pussy-whipped boyfriend will always try to do better next time. The mark of a failure is not an occasional fumble—but trying to make yourself better. The measure of a coward is not being afraid—but pretending to be brave. A great man is doomed to be himself, while a pansy feels that he can change for the good.
The desire to make yourself a better person is the surest sign of a worthless failure. A man is not a weakling because of a mere lack of physical strength—but a fellow becomes a whip because he thinks he can gain that muscle mass by going to a gym. A gentleman is not stout merely because he carries a certain number of pounds, but a person becomes a fat slob because he thinks he can somehow lose that extra weight by going on a fashionable diet. A loser is not shy with woman, but a chap becomes a creep when he cannot accept his own true character. A genuine individualist accepts himself as he is.
If you are not physically attractive, tough luck—that is what you are: ugly. There is nothing you can do about it. If you don’t have any money, too fucking bad—that is what you are: a bum. Some things in life cannot be changed. If you were born with a limited IQ, then you can’t fix stupid.
We are all born with certain inherent limitations. All that we can do in life is to accept these primordial birth defects. A real man doesn’t try to cover-up his personality blemishes with pop-psychology make-up.
A person of honor should not change—could not change—would not change. A strong man recognizes his failings and does not try to alter his defects—a man of strength works around his limitations. Scars are something that defines a person of character.
You do not truly understand your own personality until you realize your limitations. Every flaw teaches you something essential about yourself. You imperfections are exactly what propel you to become an individual. Your flaws are what make you distinctive.
Know yourself—or the altruists will number you among them. You must be what you are—otherwise, idealists will make you into what they are. Be yourself—or become one of your betters.
by Mr. Mean-Spirited
When authority-figures pledge that things will get better, they are simply repeating the cruelest lie. When the establishment preaches that life will improve, they are only reciting a depraved falsehood.
I’ve got news for you. Things never better; they only get worse. If things do change, they just get more terrible. If you are hurting today, you will suffer even more tomorrow. If you are being brutalized right now, then you can only expect even more abuse in the days to come.
Your oppressors torture you because they enjoy it. A tyrant’s behavior is not miraculously going to alter just so you can feel better about yourself. Your tormentors get such a kick out of beating you down that they are only going to use more force on the next occasion.
Don’t believe me. Just take all look at who is making all these empty promises – it is always the authorities claiming that things are progressing that are actually the same people committing all the persecution. It is usually the counselors themselves who perpetrate the worst of this harassment.
Think back to your own past: have circumstances ever once improved – or have conditions always worsened for you? So why the fuck would you expect the future to be any different?
Your existence is not going improve, but become even more dreadful. Suffering never ends; it just gets more severe. Once the anguish enters your flesh – the agony does not end, but only gets more horrible. Once the puncture starts, it only goes deeper. The pain just pushes further into you. Once the bruises begin, the battering never stops, but only increases.
Just when you imagine it can’t get any more awful, fate has a way of adding a little intensity. Some bodies are simply born to bleed. Some throats are only made for screams.
by Mr. Mean-Spirited
Every educated reader understands that Schadenfreude is a German expression for the enjoyment of someone else’s misfortune; this predilection to delight in the mishaps of your fellow man reveals something about the real nature of the human soul. Everyone can realize that Schadenfreude is truly the only unselfish and magnanimous emotion: you don’t exactly wish your neighbor’s misery upon yourself, no matter how hilarious his suffering.
Although you might claim a burning desire to help a needy child, your chuckle when the brat falls in the parking lot reveals your authentic feelings. You just can't be all sanctimonious after you snicker at a kid with skinned knees. Schadenfreude strips away all social pretense. Although you might insist you only want to assist an old lady to safely cross the street, your laughter when she drops her purse will disclose your genuine sentiments. Schadenfreude is the sincerest expression of the human spirit.
Whenever an enemy smashes-up his car in some preeminently ludicrous fashion, you can’t help but walk about with a smirk on your fact the rest of the day. Whenever a co-worker gets fired for some preposterous malfeasance, the rest of your day in the office will be all the more delightful. Whenever an acquaintance goes bankrupt in a peculiarly entertaining fashion, you can't help but feel that you have witnessed the marvelous. Whenever a fellow citizen winds-up in the emergency room with a particularly embarrassing aliment, you cannot help but feel that your own life has been touched by wonder. Whenever you witness some schmuck losing all his money at a pathetic game of blackjack, you know that you are going to have one hell of a lucky night at the casino.
A miracle does not occur when you receive some manna from the supernatural – as much as the hand of the miraculous is revealed in the moment when your greatest adversary suffers some adversity. That instant when your rival sustains a terrible calamity is the greatest moment in your own life. The most intense pleasure in this world is watching your opponent suffer. Nothing is more enjoyable than seeing your enemy in anguish. The truest magic in life is witnessing the defeat of your competition.
The other person’s hardship bestows good fortune upon you. Bad luck for the other guy means blessings for you.
by Mr. Mean-Spirited
Let me tell you a secret. Sex is never just about sex – sex is all about humiliating another human being. What is truly erotic is the process of degrading another person. What is so arousing is the act of dehumanizing another soul.
There is no better demonstration of a man’s genuine character than a bloke’s true sexual fantasies. Nothing reveals a human’s foul nature more than what excites him sexually. Quite frankly, you are doomed to be stimulated by some pretty disgusting stuff indeed. Since you cannot exist as a celibate creature, you might as well be honest about what you find arousing. You need to come to terms with how loathsome you truly are. You really ought to be ashamed of yourself – well, you should if it all weren’t so damn enjoyable.
Let’s be honest, human beings live for that moment when they can demean their neighbor, and nothing demonstrates the depravity of human nature as sexual excitement. A man can pretend many things, but sexual arousal reveals his genuine essence.
Ever human animal can understand orgasm, but what is erotic everything not related to any primordial physical responses. What is sensual is everything that is not a product of biological sensation. What is arousing the befouling of another human being. What is stimulating is the excess.
A blowjob is a simple matter of suction – but what makes fellatio exquisite is everything that comes after your ejaculation. What makes the cocksucking perfect is the moment when she swallows your semen – an act entirely unnecessary as your ejection is already completed. But what is arousing is getting a woman to degrade herself by swallowing your biological waste. You’ve had your orgasm, so what she does with your sperm is completely gratuitous. You want your girlfriend to be ever-afterward contaminated and corrupted – that is the point of the activity, not some transitory pleasure. The purpose of sex is not some transitory orgasm, but the life-long debasement of another life.
You might fantasize about shooting off upon her face, but what makes the act erotic is the deliberate soiling of another living being. Your debauchery leaves your sexual partner eternally defiled. There is always something reprehensible about your urges. The more intense the orgasm, the more despicable your desires. If you cannot avoid your inclinations, you might as well indulge.
After what you did last night, how can you ever live with yourself? Only by doing something even worse tonight.
by Mr. Mean-Spirited
You get rid of a cold the same way that you cure yourself of any other misfortune: you pass the affliction on to someone else. You have often heard it said that you can’t ever get well from the flu until somebody else gets your germs. Influenza is just like everything else in life. Whenever you suffer some illness or imperfection, the only certain means of getting better is to give that ailment to another person.
Some folk sayings you can feel in your gut: you can never get rid of harm to your own self until another person is suffering in your place. There is a reason why folk wisdom tells you to hand-over that chest cold to your unsuspecting neighbor.
The celestial balance sheet requires that someone in this world always be sickened – and you might as well be damn sure it is someone else. God is a bit like a cost accountant up in the cosmos. In this holy ledger, there must always be some soul that is afflicted, so you might as well make certain that another name is in the unfortunate column. Like any set of financial statements, you do not eliminate suffering – you move it around. Agony is like money – it never vanishes; anguish just goes to someone else. In this existence, the good Lord is going to extract every cent of pain that He is promised – the only thing that concerns you is to make certain is that the hurt comes out of someone else’s flesh.
Whether it is AIDS or an upset stomach, suffering is like a bad penny – you need to pass it to the person next to you. Whether it is syphilis or a sore throat, sickness is like a piece of counterfeit currency that you receive in change – you won’t feel better until you slip it to some unsuspecting victim. Whether it is herpes or hemorrhoids, you will only get better by making others sick. On this earth, you cannot prevent damage; you just pass the calamity to the next person in line. The best you can do in life is to ensure that others are in misery, so misfortune stays away from you.
You rid the body of a cold the same way you remedy any other malady, you give the affliction to someone else. Any sort of damage in this life can only be repaired if you pass the distress on to some other victim.
by Mr. Mean-Spirited
At some point, you’re going to be dead. Despite your best efforts, you are going to die.
Doesn’t matter whether you’ve left behind children to carry on the family line, you’re still going to be just as dead. Doesn’t matter whether you’ve done anything to benefit society, you’re still going to be just as deceased. Doesn’t matter whether you tried to rescue the planet, you still won’t be able save your own life. Doesn’t matter whether you die surrounded by loved ones or croak all alone in a rented room, your corpse is still going to cool just as fast. Doesn’t matter whether you did something to benefit the world or spent your years hiding in the basement, your body will rot just as quickly. Doesn’t matter how great your legacy, you’re still going to be lying in the grave when it is all over.
Doesn’t matter whether global warming is real or just a hoax, you won’t be around to know the difference. Doesn’t matter how many polar bears you preserve from extinction, you’re still going to expire just as sudden. Doesn’t matter if you are so environmentally conscious that you single-handedly save the entire earth, you will be so dead that you won’t hear any applause. Doesn’t matter how many people sing your praises after you pass on – you won’t be listening.
You don’t even want to consider what might happen to the world once you take your last breath. Your future progeny are completely fictional. Strong possibility that all life on earth will be destroyed by a rogue asteroid sometime in the next decade. Odds are that some sudden pestilence could wipe out the human species. Right now, human beings in some subsequent generation are completely hypothetical – they don’t yet exist and will probably never exist. A person who acts to benefit some imagined offspring eons yet to come is living an illusion. And a person who is living a delusion is mentally ill.
Let the future generations go fuck themselves. The only thing you want to leave behind in life is a stinking, rotting corpse.
by Mr. Mean-Spirited
You will die alone in a hospice. Chances are, you will perish with your wrists tied to a bedframe in some old folks home. You will depart an existence as uncomfortable as it is dishonest.
You might say that you enjoy walking along the beach, but that claim would not be honest with yourself. If you were to add-up all the minutes of your life, you will only spend, at best, a few hours looking at the ocean – yet you will squander your last 18 months of your existence drooling onto a bib in an assisted-living facility. Reality is the final years of life that you spend waiting to die in a wheelchair, not the hours that you sat in a swimsuit in the wet sand.
You might try to convince your intimates that you live for sex. But the truth is that you’ve already used-up more hours of your life straining over bowel movements than you ever did in the mechanics of intercourse. If you were truthful, you would admit that your chronic constipation takes up more of your time than a few episodes of fornication. But to be realistic, those dried turds scraping through your exhausted sphincter will be far more memorable than your last few copulations. You will ultimately forget the faces of everyone you ever loved, but your last defecation will be the final thing you remember.
Let’s face it, most of your life is pretty wretched indeed. Instead of being optimistic, it is always best to realize that discomfort is pretty much the norm. Happiness is an aberration. A positive mental attitude is what keeps you from realizing the truth of life. You need to focus more on the unpleasantness of existence, so you know what is waiting for you. Decrepitude is not something that only happens to others; senility is what awaits you. Dementia is just about the only thing in existence that you can count-on.
Life is like a distended trip to Disneyland; existence is like an interminable amusement park. Life is just like going to a theme park: the fun is over in a couple minutes and the rest of the time consists of some rather unpleasant sitting around. Just like spending two hours in line waiting for 2-minute ride; you enjoy a few moments of your miserable life, but spend the rest of the human experience merely marking time. Waiting, while you scratch at your ragged hemorrhoids.
