And now, Metokur, to explain Twitter to you!

I’m going to preface this by saying that there is a high amount of coarse language in this video that I am sharing with you.

If you haven’t heard of Metokur, you’re going to discover that he is a man who is spot on when it comes to just about any subject. He has a knack for getting down to the root and the truth of any situation.

Enjoy!

Twitter, and Jack Dorsey in particular.

Today I woke up to some interesting news.

I have received my first seven day suspension on Twitter. For those that don’t know, Twitter will suspend you for saying the wrong things, so that you are silenced for a period of time. This works great when racial supremacy groups are being silenced, or religious groups pushing hate, or pedophile or rapist advocacy groups. Yes, those do exist. Amos Yee is a rather popular pedophile apologist.

That, however, would be ideal. Twitter is anything but. I have watched prolific racists continue to spew their hate and poison without receiving any sort of corrective action. I have watched people talk about how they think the law needs to get with the times and just make it legal to have sex with children. I watch and wait to see when there is a substantial pause in their posting, indicating a ban. There never is. Jack Dorsey, the owner of Twitter, doesn’t seem concerned with the welfare of children, or Christians, or anyone to the right of far left. In his world, white people can just go die. It’s the current year.

Cisgender heteronormative behavior is in the past. Any talk of it will be put down. It makes sense, I mean, he does live in San Francisco, currently the birthplace of the coming apocalypse.

Let’s forget about piles of shit and used needles all over the street though, I’m just here to talk about my suspension from Twitter.

I must have said something pretty terrible to warrant a suspension from Twitter, right?

That’s where you’re wrong, kiddo.

That’s right, I got suspended for seven days for calling Chelsea Handler a retard. Crime of the century. Pay attention, though. If you look through that, it does say that you can get in trouble for making fun of the disabled. Is Twitter agreeing with me that Chelsea handler is indeed a retard?

it seems like that is truly a silver lining in this situation. Anyway, back to the task at hand.

I have been suspended for hate speech.

Now, don’t get me wrong. This is okay:

And so is this:

But you dare call a leftist feminist spinster who is a mother of none a retard? That’s where Jack draws the line.

Luckily, there is hope. Infamous hacker and pirate bay owner Kim Dotcom announced a few weeks ago that he is tired of Jack Dorsey and his death grip on free speech and politics. He is planning on creating a replacement for Twitter that will ban actual hate speech rather than whatever the moderator on duty disagrees with.

As things are, I think I’m going to be just fine with my seven day suspension from Twitter. It will give me time to focus on things that I have been ignoring for far too long.

It’s time to go big or go home.

She Persisted

Some people have to go through great tribulation or means in order to become a target of public ridicule. Some people have to change their gender after hitting someone with their car. Others decide to live life as a gay man after being caught molesting children.

This story, however, is about a woman who could not get enough ridicule. No matter what she did, and no matter how much the public disliked her, she wanted more. She would do anything to get as much ridicule as she possibly could. She wanted her credibility to be the lowest on the entire planet. So, she persisted.

Though she didn’t want to, she defended a rapist in a case in the beginning of her career as a lawyer. The man had raped a little girl, and the woman did not want to defend this man. She was, however, told doing it would mean she had a career. Not doing it would mean the end of her career. She knew that she would be considered a patsy, and weak, and those in power would know that they could use her for whatever they wanted, but she persisted. The rapist won the case, and the little girl’s life was destroyed. The woman, years later, would laugh about it.

Her husband was embroiled in a case in which he, while wielding great amount of power, used it to sexually assault the people working underneath him. She could probably stop him, but that would mean being one of the good guys. She couldn’t have that! She knew she would lose credibility, and would be mocked, nevertheless, she persisted. He was removed from his job, and the two of them created a mafia.

An earthquake destroyed an island! Many people were hurt, and many buildings were destroyed. By this time, the woman and her husband had more than enough money to help these people out, and their mafia had embezzled enough funds to make sure that the island could be back at full capacity immediately. She could easily solve their problems. Nevertheless, she persisted. Setting up fundraisers, and skimming the money off the top, they left the island destitute. Their mafia was becoming known for destroying lives.

A chance to become president! Who wouldn’t want that? Everybody wants to be president. Well, decent people don’t want to be president, but they do it because they know nobody else will do it properly. This woman, however, would absolutely not do it properly. It was certainly going to be another vehicle for her mafia to grow in influence.

She swore at her bodyguards. She fell down stairs. She was thrown into a van like a side of beef. Nevertheless, she persisted. She simply could not allow her credibility to grow.

After her presidential bid was lost, she noticed that her credibility wasn’t as low as she wanted it to be. She began to wear a back brace, clumsily hiding it under ill fitting clothing so people would know it was there, but they would also know she was hiding it.

She fell down some stairs. She broke her ankle and her wrist.

Still, universities kept inviting her to speak. They kept treating her like a credible source of information and influence. Nevertheless, she persisted.

“Finally! At last!” she said, “the New York Post has begun speaking ill of me!”

She had finally destroyed her credibility to the point that even her most staunch and long-standing allies were turning against her.

All because she persisted.

Hollywood and Hillary.

The reason for Hollywood being so adamant about Hillary being elected is now clear: Hollywood, filled with pedophiles, wanted a president that represented them and would protect them, and Hillary has protected pedophiles for decades.

The Blow Up.

In the wake of the Weinstein scandal and subsequent #MeToo movement, it has become abundantly clear that much of Hollywood has been involved in ongoing acts of sexual abuse and pedophilia over the course of decades. While there has been nothing as large as the Weinstein scandal, as yet, there have been small things over and over that have suggested Hollywood’s desire to normalize the sexualization of children while pushing away anyone who did not conform to that vision.

In late 2016, when the Clinton/Trump battle was raging in the political arena, it became clear that anyone who did not support Hillary in Hollywood was not going to be supported by Hollywood. Tim Allen, a conservative actor with decades of profitable shows under his belt had his show Last Man Standing canceled, with the reasoning that it simply wasn’t doing well in terms of ratings and profit. While this ordinarily would be a good reason, the show was in fact second only to Modern Family, a show that pushes the boundaries when it comes to promoting alternative lifestyles.

It doesn’t stop there. Lists can be found all over the Internet of conservative celebrities who have been forced to spout liberal rhetoric, support liberal causes, or have been told to stop having public conservative views in order to receive awards.

Hollywood is most certainly in a position to be in support of any Liberal candidate that might show up on the scene, and be vehemently against a conservative candidate.

Enter Hillary.

A former lawyer, former Secretary of State, and known for being the wife of someone who at the very least coerced someone into sexual favors while acting as president of the United States, Hillary would most certainly allow them to continue their lives of debauchery.

During the 2016 election, she became known for something quite different. Stories came up from multiple sources about her time as a lawyer. The stories were centered on a particular case, in which a 41-year-old man was accused of raping a 12-year-old girl.

The reality of the situation was that a female lawyer had been specifically requested to represent him during this case. In her book “Living History,” Clinton recalls that Mahlon Gibson, a Washington County prosecutor, told her that the accused rapist “wanted a woman lawyer” to defend him, and that Gibson had recommended Clinton to Judge Maupin Cummings. “I told Mahlon I really didn’t feel comfortable taking on such a client, but Mahlon gently reminded me that I couldn’t very well refuse the judge’s request.”

A Compromising Position.

While she was put into an unfair circumstance, it brings to mind the fact that it seems a number of liberal elites get themselves into situations that will compromise them. See: all of Harvey Weinstein’s victims. Even Madonna, who is often quoted as saying that losing her virginity was a career move, wanted The Enabler in office, and virtue signalled loudly to anyone who would listen, about The Donald’s Iniquities.

So, with her husband’s propensity toward taking advantage of women, coupled with her lackadaisical attitude toward being coerced into things, it stood to reason that Hollywood would stand behind her, if only as a figurehead and an enabler.

Thus, Hollywood did what it does. Celebrities came out of the woodwork, making ads or participating in them telling the American citizens that they had better vote for Hillary. One even featured Robert De Niro describing how he would like to commit an act of violence on the man running against Hillary. They needed their machine to keep working. Actors and actresses needed Hollywood to remain silent about the culture that had permeated their very lifestyle for so long.

It didn’t work.

Donald Trump being elected, and his penchant for getting emotional where children are involved, threw a wrench into a meticulously cultivated and curated system. With Donald Trump as President, suddenly victims are coming out in droves, telling stories that span decades, about the abuse that powerful people within Hollywood have exacted upon impressionable, malleable young stars. Rampant pedophilia and movie roles given in exchange for sexual favors are now on display for all of America to see.

The question that springs to mind, however, is why did all of Trump’s accusers fall silent once the election ended, while people like Juanita Broaddrick continue to fight against the Clintons openly like they did while Bill was still President?

It seems that if something actually happened, that they’d keep fighting as well.

In the mean time, Hollywood will do as it has always done: Attempt to distract us while pushing their offenders under the rug, where there will no doubt be more debauchery, protected from the light of day, waiting for the day when another enabler will come to pretend to lead the country.

 

Life With an Anxiety Disorder

It was 1987. I was five years old, playing out in front of my house. I was with my friend Darryl, and we were using sticks to try and dig out the edges of a sewer grate because we thought that would be a great way to meet the ninja turtles. The sewer grate was in the middle of the parking lot that was part of our housing complex. On the grass in front of my house, my ThunderCats castle sat, a hose going through the front window. I like the idea of a castle with a waterfall.

Darryl got up quickly, seeing a danger that I couldn’t. I turned and began to stand. At that moment, a car shoved my body to the ground. I woke up about 50 feet away, under the car, having been dislodged by a speedbump. I stood up and ran home, passing out on the grass in front of the house.

I remember sitting in the car on the way to the hospital. I was in the car that hit me. I looked down at my leg, seeing meat and bone. I was interested in it, and tried to touch it. My mom stopped me, and told me I was in shock and that’s why it didn’t hurt. She asked me what I was doing when I got hit. When I told her that I was looking for the ninja turtles, she started asking me questions about them. She was keeping my brain going so I wouldn’t pass out.

At the hospital, things were much different. They didn’t want to anesthetize me because I was in shock, so they stitched my leg immediately and without anesthetic. It was a very cold stinging feeling.

In the years that followed, I remember things like walking back to the school from the schoolyard and feeling like something was pulling me backward. My friend Michael asked me why I’m walking as slow as an ant. I had no idea what it was. At such a young age, it might well have been a ghost holding on to me, preventing me from walking.

I was suddenly terrified to get on buses. The feeling was much stronger then, almost incapacitating. A complete, enveloping terror. My mother couldn’t make heads or tails of it, and eventually took me to a psychiatrist. I was soon diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder. The likelihood is that it came from head trauma from being hit by the car.

My ability to socialize was stunted. School was difficult. I had no idea what my triggers were, I had no idea that triggers even existed. I would find myself in blinding terror in the most innocuous of situations. Even as a youngster, I had the presence of mind to explain it to the person in front of me though. That didn’t stop me from getting bullied. The bullying, in fact, became so severe that my mother moved me to a different school. In retrospect, it was easily a very burdensome process for my mother.

Junior high came, and though I made friends, my disorder still relegated me to the realms of obscurity. This lasted through high school. Girls made it very clear to me that they liked me, but I could do nothing about it except seem unfriendly.

As I grow into an adult, I felt afraid to do anything but take the path of least resistance. Getting and keeping a job was difficult. No one understood what my problem was, despite knowing I had this disorder. My doctor, on multiple occasions, even recommended that I go on disability. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be limited.

I met my wife online. I had a fairly popular blog in the early 2000’s. Does anyone remember Mightyskunk from open diary? She was one of my readers, and we began talking on MSN, and eventually on the phone. She took a plane ride up to Toronto to meet me. My anxiety attacks lessened around her. She understood me, and even learned to soothe my attacks.

Skipping far ahead, I ended up moving to the United States. She and I got married, and I started holding down good jobs. My confidence grew. I also began looking at my anxiety attacks analytically. I started studying them. Instead of avoiding my triggers, I tried to encounter as many as possible. Eventually I got a drivers license, despite all reason. Driving is one long anxiety trigger.

After years forcing myself into my triggers head-on, my strength against my anxiety disorder has grown. Though regular daily life is still a constant source of terror, I’ve become good at masking my symptoms and sublimating the terror within me. There are still things that I won’t do. I love roller coasters, and go on them any chance I get. The Tower of terror at Disneyland, however, is a different animal. The worst anxiety attack I have ever had was on that ride. Just thinking about it scares me, even though I know it’s deeply irrational. I actually find the humor in the situation.

I still need to pause and compose myself when a person is walking toward me. I still have difficulty making eye contact during handshakes, though that’s mainly due to habit at this point.

In the 30 years that I have spent dealing with a severe anxiety disorder, I have found that confronting it head on is by far the best remedy. Avoiding triggers and succumbing to fear only makes it stronger.

In related news, has anyone out there listened to the Black Eyed Peas? Even if they’re not your kind of band, they cover some interesting subject matter, including anxiety disorders. They actually have a song where they discuss an anxiety disorder, and how truly terrifying it is.

 

I don’t fear none of my enemies

And I don’t fear bullets from Uzi’s

I’ve been dealing with something that’s worse than these

That’ll make you fall to your knees and thats

The anxiety

The sane and the insane rivalry

Paranoia’s brought me to my knees

Lord please please please

Take away my anxiety

Millennium

The year 1999 was a huge year for me in formative terms. I have more memories of that year than any other. It was a time of strong emotion, of the strengthening of bonds between friends, of learning just how awful and how great my small world at the time was.

For a little perspective, the version of me that exists now is actually a little disgusted that the 1999 version of me existed. I think, in retrospect, that I needed that version of myself in order to become the person I am. I was seventeen, had dropped out of school, and didn’t have a job. My friends were potheads, druggies, and drunks. It was a hot summer, and the neighborhood smelled a lot like the East Indian shops that lined the streets. Strong rotten smells of fish from the convenience stores, and acrid curry smells from the restaurants.  Scarborough was a garbage heap, and still is, as far as I’m concerned.

I was poor, but managed on a couple of dollars each day. With no perspective, I didn’t think anything of how little it was, or that I got it from my mother. I was deeply depressed that summer, had been all year, and had already made a suicide attempt by taking my entire bottle of antidepressants. I’m going to assume it didn’t work. I slept for two days straight, and had muscle spasms for a year or so after.

The song “Millennium” by Robbie Williams was big for a few of the months that I spent being “Depressed, Summer ’99 Mickey”. The song itself was somewhat mediocre, though it had a very unique sound, and was on TV or the radio constantly. I was only sleeping an hour or two a day, usually between eight and ten in the morning.  I often had bouts of a week or so in which I didn’t sleep at all. I’m sure I could have qualified as certifiably insane.

I have only heard that song a few times since that summer and only once since leaving Canada. It always brings me back to a specific day, during sunset, walking to the store with a friend, noting how yellow everything looked, and how the street looked shiny despite being dry. The reflections off the windows of the apartment buildings on one side and the shops to the other side made it even more yellow. A car passed by with Millennium playing on the radio. I mentioned how the song sounds shiny. Kevin, my friend, agreed.

The neighborhood stunk to high heaven, we were poor and depressed, he may have been a little drunk, but the world was shiny for a moment.

How To Be Part Of The 1%.

It’s 2017, and despite what you’ve heard, things have never been better in the United States. It is so good, in fact, that even the poorest among us are in the top 1% of the entire world. According to the Global Rich List, a website that brings awareness to worldwide income disparities, an income of $32,400 per year will allow you to be part of the world’s top 1%.

With all of this talk of socialism and communism by late teens – early 20s college students, you would think that capitalism is a dud. The talk around college campuses almost suggests that capitalism is dying because of how terribly people are suffering under it. Let’s go ahead and compare the United States, a country that has espoused capitalism since it’s incarnation, to a socialist country. Let’s go one step further, in fact, and use a country that is now socialist that was once capitalist.

Venezuela, once a burgeoning free market economy, enjoying modern successes, became a country where eating your dog is now considered a good option. They adopted socialism under the watchful eye of Hugo Chavez beginning in 2000, and continued with Nicolas Maduro in 2013. For a few years, things were fine. In fact, literacy rates improved and income disparities became less pronounced. As time went on, however, Venezuela’s economy deteriorated, largely due to the lack of a free market and a lack of competition. Despite receiving over $1 trillion in oil revenues since 1999, the government had run out of cash and soon relied heavily on printing money to finance itself. The result? The highest inflation rate in the world. Into thousand 13, the inflation rate was 56%, though numbers suggest that the implied annual inflation rate was actually 330%.

You might say to yourself, America prints money, why don’t we experience the inflation rate that they experienced in Venezuela?

The US Federal Reserve, the central bank of the United States, has the responsibility of maintaining the money supply at the level that the US Federal Reserve considers best for the economy. Maintaining that level requires the US Federal Reserve to create or destroy several billion dollars every single day to ensure the balance.

Socialist countries don’t do this. There is never enough money to go around due to all of the welfare programs that are required to ensure that everyone has what the government deems them to deserve. In order to have the money to pay for all of these programs, the socialist country will simply print more. That sounds all well and good, right?

Sorry grasshopper, it’s not. While there is more money, the bigger pile still only has the value that the smaller pile had, meaning that each individual dollar is now worth less than it once was. These are simplistic terms, but that’s the point.

Now, imagine you have worked all of your life and saved up $1 million. Suddenly, your socialist country decides to print enough money that your $1 million is suddenly only worth $1000. It could turn even the most honest man into a criminal. Imagine then, what the criminals must be doing about all of this.

Venezuela experienced a horrific rise in crime. The country became one of the most dangerous places in the world with almost 25,000 homicides in 2013. A murder rate of 79 killings per 100,000 inhabitants. Videos online showed thieves simply shooting people and taking their backpacks or purses, rather than demanding them.

When things became this bad, the government cast aside any pretense that they had of being a democratic country. Maduro, once content with ruling by word of law, became dictatorial, making sure that all TV stations either belonged to the government or said and did what the government wanted. International networks were blocked from cable and satellite. Opposition radio stations would see their licenses revoked and the newspapers shut down from lack of currency with which to operate.

Bernie Sanders

In the United States, The election in 2016 was a close call. Bernie Sanders, a known socialist, had gained more votes than Hillary Clinton in the primary. Luckily, the DNC did not allow that to deny Hillary the primary win. Sanders, known for stealing from neighbors and having a criminalwife, would have, with the support of millions of inexperienced and naïve college students, steered this great country toward the black hole that is socialism. Many celebrities encouraged voting for Bernie, citing the success Venezuela has had with socialism.

If socialism ever found its grip on the United States, you could rest assured that you would never again be part of the top 1% of the planet.

Despite what suffering you may feel you have, despite what roadblocks might appear in your life, be happy that they are all surmountable. There are still countries in which your birth place might determine your chances of success. Take heed of history and pay attention to the fact that this Country has remained number one for hundreds of years, while giving all of its citizens, even the poorest, better living conditions than anywhere else on the planet.