Monday, April 28, 2014


by Mr. Mean-Spirited

Do not ever donate your organs to anyone. You are not a resource to be harvested. You are not a package of spare parts to be slit and sliced. You are not a biological boneyard that exists only to be salvaged for chunks of flesh. You are not a commodity to be carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey.
You don’t want some guy holding a bone saw and a plastic bucket to be anxiously awaiting your last breath. You don’t want some smirking surgeon to be tapping his scalpel on the hospital bedframe until he is able to go fishing around in your chest cavity for warm organs. You are not just a lump of meat to be recycled into the bodies of more fortunate citizens.

You do not belong to society; you have no obligation to provide second-hand gall bladders for the more favored amongst us. The idea that the transplant lobby has a right to recover biological material implies that you are the property of the state. Organ donation is the ultimate proof that you are just another resource to be exploited by the community. Refusing the claim of organ donation defends your existence as an individual. The do-gooders will try their best to intimidate you into providing body parts to extend their coddled existence – but if you want to remain a unique soul you must strive to keep your body intact.

Some stranger did nothing for you, so why the hell should you offer him your spleen? Somebody prancing about with you transplanted heart behind his rib cage has done nothing but make a complete sucker out of you – organ donation is just another way that other people take advantage of you. Why the hell should some jerk get your kidneys? Why would you want some shithead to enjoy a few more years of life at your expense? Let’s face it, if you have to die, then everyone else should have the good manners to politely depart this world when their time is up.

The main reason that organ donation is continually pushed by the mass media is not to save lives, but to generate more funds for the medical industry. Organ donation only exists to enrich the medical establishment: you might be feeling generous and give-up your body parts for free, but the transplant surgery is going to make hundreds of thousands of dollars for the health-care industry.

You do understand that if you sign into the organ donation scam, hospitals are going to do their damndest to hasten and hurry your demise. A doctor’s time is valuable, and the professionals are impatient to get their rubber-gloved fingers on the most profitable pieces of your corpse before the competition is able to carve you up.

If you are foolish enough to offer your body to science, you do know that the interns will be laughing and making jokes about your pathetic physique. Your body should be of more value to you than to allow your carcass to end up as a prop for the amusement of some pampered postgraduates. You do realize that if you donate your cadaver to some medical school, the grad students will be taking selfies in front of your corpse.

The very same clique that stole your lunch money when you were in elementary school has now grown into the crowd that is pushing organ donation. They very same smarmy ass-kissers in the human resources department that made you bow and dance for your shit-job are also the do-gooders trying to intimidate you into organ donation. They very same grinning tax-collectors that stole most of your paycheck have now become the mob trying to get you to sign-up for organ donation. The same establishment that screwed you over throughout your existence is the very same society that wants to carve you up for spare parts. The very same “humanitarians” who fucked you over throughout your life are the very same people who are trying to fuck you over after death.

Don’t be a dumbass, don’t be an organ donor. Refusing to give up your organs is the ultimate way of giving the finger to society.


Monday, April 21, 2014


by Mr. Mean-Spirited

I’ve always hated children – but for many years, I actually thought I was the only person who ever felt that way. I never realized that the word misopedia existed to describe this very feeling; now I am simply content to portray myself as a committed misopedist, since I never could stand to be around kids. I don’t just find children a nuisance, I despise them. I don’t just find children an annoyance, I detest them. I don’t just find kids an inconvenience, I loathe them. I don’t want to be touched by their slimy fingers; I don’t want to hear their screeching; I don’t even want to see their misshapen limbs.

A prudent man shrinks from the possibility of fatherhood the way his penis shrivels at the sight of a pregnant woman’s belly.

I hate children for destroying a woman’s looks. Take a beautiful woman and make her pregnant - the next time you see her, you won’t recognize the lady behind the stretch marks and blubber. Take a nice set of breasts, and have the wench start lactating, and all that will remain of her boobs are sag and stretch marks. After a dame’s nipple has been sucked by some kid, you won’t be in any hurry to put the tit in your mouth.

I hate children for reducing a parent’s intelligence. Once a woman and has excreted a child, the only thing she will now be blathering about is her brat’s diarrhea; instead of being able to hold her own in a discussion of politics and religion, the new mother will be blithering about how many diapers she goes through in a day. After a well-spoken woman has spent a month caring for an infant, the mother’s IQ will drop at least a dozen points.  

I hate children for ruining lives. An individual could have made his life into a wild and wonderful creation; instead, do-gooders now will tell the gentleman that needs to put his children first. A father just discards some biological residue in a woman’s orifice - yet, after being forced to give up half his income, he will come to regret that discharge every day for the next couple decades. Babies are a sexually transmitted disease that will take 18 years to cure. No, children are not innocent, not in the least; children annihilate the very independence of a parent. Surely raising another yet urchin is not the most important thing - but accepting the role of a parent is the most idiotic way that an adult could waste his remaining years.

I hate children for being dependent. Always needing something, always wanting something more. An infant looks at a parent not with love or hate, but with pure emptiness – the same emotional vacancy that the mother wants to fill by having a kid in the first place. A baby is like a sinkhole: a screeching, shrieking pit that can never be filled – or never shut-up no matter how much a parent might sacrifice.  

I hate children for wasting resources. Over the next two decades, raising a child will cost you the equivalent of purchasing a new house. But becoming a parent will waste money that you could have spent on something important – like yourself. Far better to invest in a box of condoms and buy enough insurance in order to spend the next two decades indulging yourself. For God’s sake, a can of baby formula costs just about as much as a bottle of gin.

I hate children for dumbing down life. Mass culture wants everything in life to be family friendly, so any ideas of daring and depth are cast aside to make things accessible to everyone. The ruling elite actively discourage any discussion of the truly sinister nature of existence because, well, that might frighten the “little ones.” Instead, the establishment media continually subjects all consumers to programming that is insipidly inspirational because “children might be watching.”

I hate children for giving an excuse for government repression. Whenever some legislator comes up with some new law designed to take away your remaining freedoms, those new restrictions are always decreed “to protect the children.” Whenever government wants to tell you what to do, those regulations are always enacted to “safeguard kids.” Well, I would rather keep the liberty and not bother with the kids. If a nuclear family truly requites totalitarian legislation to protect its existence, then you are much better-off childfree.

I hate children for being such repulsive creatures. Smeary with snot and squishy with shit, leaking piss and dripping saliva, babies smell like a cross between dirty laundry and rancid meat. A man who does not hate children has never heard a brat scream for a solid hour.

Sometimes the best thing to do is just to abandon the infant in a cart in the middle of the nearest Wal-mart. Trust me, no one will ever notice.

Friday, April 11, 2014


by Mr. Mean-Spirited

I don't care how paranoid you imagine yourself to be – you aren’t suspicious enough. It doesn't matter how much you might distrust other people, somebody is already taking advantage of you. It's not important how often you look over your shoulder, you will never see everyone who is following you. You just aren’t adequately mistrustful.

Fear is a state of alertness. While panic is not a particularly serviceable mindset to plan strategy, dread is an ideal state of mind for surveying the combat zone. Fright simply lets you scan more of the field of carnage. Being scared is merely a form of information gathering. 

If you really want to know what you are facing, you will just have to make yourself even more paranoid. The only way that you are going to understand what the others are conspiring against to you is to become frightened deliberately. Fear lets you recognize things that you would not otherwise be able to notice. You never glimpse as many potential assailants as when you are scared. You must become intentionally terrified. When you are afraid, you finally manage to glimpse something of the plot against you. Terror lets you understand the big picture. The more of daily life that begins to alarm you, the better your awareness of the scheme against you.

Paranoia gives you an edge. Wariness gives you an advantage over the conformists. When you are happy, you let your guard down. The instant you feel comfortable around other humans is when you make yourself vulnerable. The moment you start to trust another person is the instant where you can be overpowered. Once you stop distrusting everyone, you can be defeated by anyone. 

Friday, April 4, 2014


by Mr. Mean-Spirited

Misotheism is one of those delightful words that seems to have fallen out of use. A smattering of classical education will tell you that the term simply means hatred of God. But a loathing of the Almighty reveals something essential that humanity has forgotten about the nature of existence.

The individual who hates God truly believes. A man who detests the divine truly knows. Anyone can get bored enough with life to claim to love the King of Kings, but a loathing of the Lord requires quite an understanding of the true nature of existence. Make no mistake about it, mainstream Christians will feel threatened by the notion of misotheism, but what torments the churchgoer is not the part about a hatred of God, but the fact that you have such an intimate knowledge of the Creator.

The only problem with atheism is that it makes an adherent so damn boring; in just this fashion, loving God is simply too humiliating for a man with any self-respect. Only hating God returns a believer some dignity and depth. If you want to maintain a sense of self-worth, you do not worship the Powers of Heaven, but devote yourself to fucking up God’s creation.

Misotheism is always an intensely personal reaction to God’s indifference. You don’t care how many wars God might allow; you are only concerned about the well-being of one single person: you.  You don’t care how many human beings God might smite dead; you are only concerned with one life: your own. You don’t care how many humans might die of hideous diseases; you are only concerned about one individual’s health: yours.

Your own personal suffering teaches a believer more about God’s real intentions than does any scripture. Hopelessness reveals more about the Almighty than does any passing joy. You need to face facts, God screwed you over big time. God could have done so much more for you; the All-Powerful could have brought you bliss and bitches; the Omnipotent could have delivered prosperity and pussy; but instead, the Almighty let your life come to this. If God had kept his word, your life would have turned out the way you wanted – instead of like this. Don’t you think that you would have done better in the world if only the Lord had kept his part of the bargain? If your unfulfilled existence isn’t justification enough for hate then nothing is.

If you feel compelled give thanks for God when you experience some good fortune, then you must logically blame God when you endure some misfortune. If you express gratitude when you have food on the table, then you must curse the Heavenly Father when you go hungry. If you do not hold God responsible for adversity, then you do not really have faith. If you make excuses for God’s defects, then you do not honestly believe. 

If it were a matter of random chance, then you would never have suffered quite so much; surely you would have experienced a little ecstasy by accident along the way. Instead, your life has been one catastrophe followed by another. There is only one possible explanation for the pattern of disaster in your life: God has it in for you. The Creator sabotaged things for you at the moment you were born. The Lord obviously despises you – and you need to return the favor. God hates you, and you need to return the loathing.

Most of all, you hate God for the same reason one spouse comes to abhor the other: disappointment. A wife hates the husband simply because he let her down; a cuckold comes to scorn his mate because she betrayed him. Like your own significant other, the Lord didn’t do what was promised. God doesn’t answer prayers. Every supplication is a data point about the nature of the divine – but unfulfilled requests tell you more about God’s attitude toward humanity than any realized prayer. If the Almighty doesn’t give you what you want, the All-Powerful must be held accountable.

The Creator wants to destroy your freedom; the King of Kings has a thing for obedience. The Lord likes to have his creation doing what it is told. If you truly had free will, then you would not be tortured in the afterlife for refusing to comply with divine edicts. God wants you to follow commandments no matter how absurd; the All-Powerful feels so much more almighty when the believers are properly submissive. Sure, the Heavenly Father is a bit of a control freak; the Holy Spirit doesn’t react well when his authority is questioned. Meekness gets the manna flowing.

God wants you subservient. Make no mistake about it, the Lord wants to see you on your knees. The obedient churchgoer becomes quite good at groveling; the servant of God develops quite a knack for self-abasement. The way the eyes well up with tears when pleading for a miracle is always quite amusing. None of the afflicted will ever get that cure of course, but sometimes God just enjoys a good cringe. None of the poor will ever get that job no matter how much they implore, but the Heavenly Father does appreciate a bit of fawning. God wants you to be inferior. The Almighty wants to see you to beg and beseech, and then the Good Lord is going to batter you to death.

God wants you dead. Ultimately God wants you to die for him. God wants see the expression on your face at the moment of your demise. God thinks that muscle-flicker of pain is ever so cute; the way the blood pools just beneath the surface of your skin is ever so fetching. God likes that sudden sweetness to your perspiration when the agony washes over you. God enjoys that moment when your eyes go slightly out of focus with fear. God never tires of the expression on your face when your bowels release just before you lose consciousness forever.

God wants to steal your soul. He will harvest your soul and add it to his collection. The Lord of Hosts already has a place for your spirit amongst the others on his shelf; not that your soul is a particularly fine specimen, but the Lord is a bit of a completest, you see. Souls are like comic books – once you start collecting a series, you just got to have them all.

You need to accept that there is nothing you can do about your fate. Realize the pain and recognize the ultimate cause.

Misotheism helps you keep your self-respect in the face of utter damnation. You will be going to hell all right – ain’t nothing that would ever change your perdition – but at least you can be a man about your own fate in that eternity of fire and brimstone. Misotheism restores your dignity. You might not be able to extinguish the flames of hell that assuredly await you, but at least you can spit in the Almighty’s eye as you are cast out. Hatred of God is the ultimate protest against the injustice of life.

A man who does not end up a confirmed misotheist has experienced nothing in life.