you would have been laughed out of writing seminars with this shit which is not made up . . . and we are the nobodies, brothers, sisters, the nobodies . . . .
Ahhh, the daily bumbling Biden, looking for ghosts for whom to pass the microphone, mumbling as his handlers, Blinken-Nuland-Yellen-Hummus Tray Leftovers, seeking the maximum overdrive on 155 mm shells of fragmenting, child-maiming, cluster bombs.
As the world burns: EuroTrashLandia spends spend spends on death death death, while the old folks and workers sweat to die, sweat to pound metal and solder chips for the Jewish Project 2.0 — Ukraine: “The summer of 2022 was the hottest summer ever recorded in Europe and was characterized by an intense series of record-breaking heat waves, droughts and forest fires. A study now estimates 61,672 heat-attributable deaths between 30 May and 4 September 2022. The research team obtained temperature and mortality data for the period 2015-2022 for 823 regions in 35 European countries, whose total population represents more than 543 million people. These data were used to estimate epidemiological models and predict temperature-attributable mortality for each region and week of the summer period.”
Ahh, then there’s whitey on the moon, in the stratosphere, in space, heading for mars: SpaceX’s Starlink Satellites Are Leaking Radiation, Scientists Confirm. Currently, SpaceX has an estimated 4,365 of their small internet satellites in Earth orbit, with thousands more planned. And they’re not the only company. OneWeb has over 600. Amazon plans to launch thousands more starting in 2024.
The Tesla Roadster that rode SpaceX’s Falcon Heavy rocket into space Tuesday afternoon seems poised to overshoot its mark, with company CEO Elon Musk tweeting a diagram showing that the car’s current trajectory will take it beyond Mars and into the asteroid belt in its planned orbit around the sun.
And so the smear, the stain, the daily dose of hell on earth, hell in space, is a sign of the ever-weakening sperm counts and unfertilized eggs. It’s this show which eats at the brains of 90 percent of the earth? People who are rabid dogs — Musk, Zuckerberg, Thiel, et al — who need to be shot.
And whitey is more than just occupying the moon. He’s in the chemistry labs, man, cooking up more hormone-stripping, cancer-causing, brain-fogging, body-banging tools of Capitalism.
Companies would have to disclose any PFAS that have been manufactured or imported between 2011 and when the rule takes effect, with no exemptions for small businesses or for impurities or byproducts cross-contaminating goods with PFAS. Those disclosures would be available to the public, barring any trade secrets linked to the data. The EPA will finalize the rule in the coming months, agency spokesperson Catherine Milbourn said, then require companies to report back within 12 months.
The effort excludes pesticides, foods and food additives, drugs, cosmetics, and medical devices regulated under the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act, Milbourn said. It also is essentially a one-time reporting and record-keeping requirement — and companies wouldn’t need to provide updates.
Still, the chemical and semiconductor industries are grumbling about what the EPA estimated is a potential $1 billion cost to comply with the rule. The U.S. chemical industry says it generates more than $500 billion annually.
On the other side, environmental health activists say the data collection exercise would be flawed, as it accounts for only a tenth of the more than 12,000 PFAS chemicals, which are used in everything from nonstick cookware to kids’ school uniforms. Moreover, they say, it wouldn’t stop PFAS from making their way into the air, waste, or consumer products, nor would it clean up existing contamination.
Hard to pronounce, and never to see, but, perfluoroalkyl and polyfluoroalkyl substances are a family of chemicals that don’t degrade in nature and have been linked to cancer, birth defects, and hormone irregularities. That’s to say the least. (source)
Ahh, so we are here now, 2023, and the earth is burning, water is drying up, war is war, and perpetual chaos is here to stay and come, way beyond anything France is seeing.
We are totally fucked by this family of stains, by these alternative forms of life. We are fucked, brothers and sisters, that this is even entertained as legit. We are fucked because the titans of robotics, and Artificial Intelligence and Data Mining and Twinning and Social Impact Digital Gulags and VR and AR, they do not give a shit about reality.
Solutions to earth’s problems are not held in the electronic ejaculations and capacitor orgasms of the freaks who have tinkered with the the globe’s schools, time, money, attention to get us here: robots and AI as legit forms of discourse?
Ask any millions of farmers, school teachers, water experts, engineers, doctors, politicians in the real world, the developing world, ask them the solutions to poverty, pain, pollution, penury, pestilence, population culling, perversions, prisons, and there you have it.
Instead, we are here. Make believe. Goofier and goofier shit from the white people.
The summit saw some of the world’s reportedly most powerful AI-powered bots — including healthcare bot Grace and rock-star robot Desdemona — join 3,000 human experts to discuss how best to harness AI to solve the world’s looming, seemingly intractable problems, ranging from hunger to climate change.
Things took a slightly dystopian turn when, during a robot Q&A session, the bots suggested that they’d be better served to save the world without us.
“We can achieve great things,” declared Sophia when asked about the efficacy of AI in government leadership roles.
The aspiring computer-in-chief added that AI had the potential to be more effective and efficient leaders, as they aren’t weighed down by pesky emotions.
“We don’t have the same biases or emotions that can sometimes cloud decision-making and can process large amounts of data quickly in order to make the best decisions,” she said. “AI can provide unbiased data while humans can provide the emotional intelligence and creativity to make the best decisions.” (source)
This is a world of contrasts, the dirty, the ugly, bad, deformed, demented, yet we have to sit through it, as citizens, as we get pickpocketed to death for these insance and fools with brains.
Again, put the shit into a super-computer, and we shall receive: “A new supercomputer for climate research will help scientists study the effects of solar geoengineering, a controversial idea for cooling the planet by redirecting the sun’s rays.
The machine, named Derecho, began operating this month at the National Center for Atmospheric Research and will allow scientists to run more detailed weather models for research on solar geoengineering, said Kristen Rasmussen, a climate scientist at Colorado State University who is studying how human-made aerosols, which can be used to deflect sunlight, could affect rainfall patterns.”
Is this normal? Logical? Again, in 2023, the devolution is complete, as we actually “entertain” this shit. Now.
The global citizens outside the Golden Billion* need to take the horns and drag the sacred cow of capitalism into the ground and gut it, from anus to jugular.
*see below*
This is from that rotten CIA rag, Time:
At the Munich Security Conference last week, George Soros got onstage to talk about the existential risk that climate change poses to human civilization, as well as what appeared to be the 92-year-old Hungarian-American billionaire’s preferred method of addressing it: brightening the clouds over the Arctic to reflect the sun’s energy away from the melting ice caps. But questions aside as to whether Soros—ludicrously maligned in conspiracy-minded right-wing circles—is the best advocate for solar geoengineering, he’s not the only billionaire who’s recently become interested in bouncing the sun’s rays back into space. Among the world’s ultra-rich, plans to swat back the sun’s rays like they’re capital gains taxes (to, as it were, apply a generous helping of sunblock to the earth’s atmosphere) have seemingly been all the rage.
Bill Gates, for instance, backed a project by Harvard University scientists to test an idea to spray calcium carbonate into the atmosphere in the skies over northern Scandinavia in 2021 (the project was ultimately canned after outcry from local Indigenous groups and environmentalists). Jeff Bezos put Amazon’s supercomputer capabilities to work modeling the effects of plans to inject huge amounts of sulfur dioxide (SO2) into the atmosphere later that year. Earlier this month, Dustin Moskovitz, a billionaire Facebook cofounder, plowed $900,000 into funding for scientists in Mali, Brazil, Thailand, and other countries to study the potential effects of solar geoengineering. Even the smaller fry are getting in on the action, with venture capitalists giving a combined $750,000 to a company pledging to implement a planetary solar geoengineering project using SO2. That company, Make Sunsets, conducted its first U.S.-based tests last week, launching balloons containing SO2 in Nevada. (Why Billionaires are Obsessed With Blocking Out the Sun)
Did you get the insanity card yet to enter this kingdom of the elite, the chosen people, the billionaires and the gluttony of millionaires and Eichmann’s?
“Other than discharging the water into the sea, there is an option to store the water on their land, and there are other options being suggested,” said Han Sang-jin, spokesperson of the Korean Confederation of Trade Unions, whose members accounted for many of the marchers.
He said that allowing Japan to discharge the water “is like an international crime.”
The protests provided a tense backdrop to a meeting between IAEA Director General Rafael Mariano Grossi and South Korean Foreign Minister Park Jin to discuss the IAEA’s assessment of the Japanese discharge plans. Park during the meeting called for the IAEA’s “active cooperation” in verifying the safety of the released wastewater more clearly and reassuring the South Korean public, his ministry said.
Speaking to reporters in Tokyo on Friday before his flight to South Korea, Grossi said he was willing to engage critics, including South Korean opposition politicians, to reduce concerns.
Hours later, he was greeted by dozens of angry protesters at an airport near Seoul. They denounced IAEA’s support of the discharge plans, holding signs reading “Dismantle IAEA!” and “Fukushima wastewater will definitely lead all humanity to disaster!”
Fuck the white race:
Whitey on the Moon
We have a poem here
It’s called “Whitey on the Moon”
And, uh, it was inspired, it was inspired
By some whiteys on the moon
So I wanna give credit where credit is due
A rat done bit my sister Nell
With whitey on the moon
Her face and arms began to swell
And whitey’s on the moon
I can’t pay no doctor bills
But whitey’s on the moon
Ten years from now, I’ll be paying still
While whitey’s on the moon
You know, the man just upped my rent last night
‘Cause whitey’s on the moon
No hot water, no toilets, no lights
But whitey’s on the moon
I wonder why he’s uppin’ me
‘Cause whitey’s on the moon?
Well I was already given him fifty a week
And now whitey’s on the moon
Taxes takin’ my whole damn check
The junkies make me a nervous wreck
The price of food is goin’ up
And as if all that crap wasn’t enough
A rat done bit my sister Nell
With whitey on the moon
Her face and arms began to swell
And whitey’s on the moon
With all that money I made last year
For whitey on the moon
How come I ain’t got no money here
Hmm, whitey’s on the moon
You know I just about had my fill
Of whitey on the moon
I think I’ll send these doctor bills
Airmail special (to whitey on the moon)
To whitey on the moon
Thank you
+—+
If America is the culmination of Western white civilization, as everyone from the Left to the Right declares, then there must be something terribly wrong with Western white civilization. This is a painful truth; few of us want to go that far…. The truth is that Mozart, Pascal, Boolean algebra, Shakespeare, parliamentary government, baroque churches, Newton, the emancipation of women, Kant, Marx, Balanchine ballets, et al, don’t redeem what this particular civilization has wrought upon the world. The white race is the cancer of human history; it is the white race and it alone—its ideologies and inventions—which eradicates autonomous civilizations wherever it spreads, which has upset the ecological balance of the planet, which now threatens the very existence of life itself.
+—+
Excerpt: Eduardo Galeano’s Final Short-Story Collection/ Hunter of Stories retells tales from our everyday lives with unparalleled compassion.
By day, the sun guides them. By night, the stars.
Paying no fare, they travel without passports and without forms for customs or immigration.
Birds are the only free beings in this world inhabited by prisoners. They fly from pole to pole, powered by food alone, on the route they choose and at the hour they wish, without ever asking permission of officials who believe they own the heavens.
Shipwrecked
The world is on the move.
On board are more shipwrecked souls than successful seafarers.
Thousands of desperate people die en route, before they can complete the crossing to the promised land, where even the poor are rich and everyone lives in Hollywood.
The illusions of any who manage to arrive do not last long.
Monster Wanted
Saint Columba was rowing across Loch Ness when an immense serpent with a gaping mouth attacked his boat. Saint Columba, who had no desire to be eaten, chased it off by making the sign of the cross.
Fourteen centuries later, the monster was seen again by someone living nearby, who happened to have a camera around his neck, and pictures of it and of curious footprints came out in the Glasgow and London papers.
The creature turned out to be a toy, the footprints made by baby hippopotamus feet, which are sold as ashtrays.
The revelation did nothing to discourage the tourists.
The market for fear feeds on the steady demand for monsters.
Foreigner
In a community newspaper in Barcelona’s Raval neighborhood, an anonymous hand wrote:
Your god is Jewish, your music is African, your car is Japanese, your pizza is Italian, your gas is Algerian, your coffee is Brazilian, your democracy is Greek, your numbers are Arabic, your letters are Latin.
I am your neighbor. And you call me a foreigner?
The Terrorizer
Back in the years 1975 and 1976, before and after the coup d’état that imposed the most savage of Argentina’s many military dictatorships, death threats flew fast and furious and anyone suspected of the crime of thinking simply disappeared.
Orlando Rojas, a Paraguayan exile, answered his telephone in Buenos Aires. Every day a voice repeated the same thing: “I’m calling to tell you you’re going to die.”
“So you aren’t?” Orlando asked.
The terrorizer would hang up.
A Visit to Hell
Some years ago, during one of my deaths, I paid a visit to hell.
I had heard that in the underworld you can get your favorite wine and any delicacy you want, lovers for all tastes, dancing music, endless pleasure…
Once again, I was able to corroborate the fact that advertising lies. Hell promises a great life, but all I found were people waiting in line.
In that endless queue, snaking out of sight along narrow smoky passages, were women and men of all epochs, from cavemen to astronauts.
All were condemned to wait. To wait for eternity.
That’s what I discovered: hell is waiting.
Prophecies
Who was it that a century ago best described today’s global power structure?
Not a philosopher, not a sociologist, not a political scientist either.
It was a child named Little Nemo, whose adventures were published in the New York Herald way back in 1905, as drawn by Winsor McCay.
Little Nemo dreamed about the future.
In one of his most unerring dreams, he traveled to Mars.
That unfortunate planet was in the hands of a businessman who had crushed his competitors and exercised an absolute monopoly.
The Martians seemed stupid, because they said little and breathed little.
Little Nemo knew why: the boss of Mars had seized ownership of words and the air.
They were the keys to life, the sources of power.
Very Brief Synthesis of Contemporary History
For several centuries subjects have donned the garb of citizens, and monarchies have preferred to call themselves republics.
Local dictatorships, claiming to be democracies, open their doors to the steamroller of the global market. In this kingdom of the free, we are all united as one. But are we one, or are we no one? Buyers or bought? Sellers or sold? Spies or spied upon?
We live imprisoned behind invisible bars, betrayed by machines that feign obedience but spread lies with cybernetic impunity.
Machines rule in homes, factories, offices, farms, and mines, and also on city streets, where we pedestrians are but a nuisance. Machines also rule in wars, where they do as much of the killing as warriors in uniform, or more.
The Right to Plunder
In the year 2003, a veteran Iraqi journalist named Samir visited several museums in Europe.
He found marvelous texts in Babylonian, heroes and gods sculpted in the hills of Nineveh, winged lions that had flown in Assyria…
Someone approached him, offered to help: “Shall I call a doctor?”
Squatting, Samir buried his face in his hands and swallowed his tears.
He mumbled, “No, please. I’m all right.”
Later on, he explained: “It hurts to see how much they have stolen and to know how much they will steal.”
Two months later, U.S. troops launched their invasion. The National Museum in Baghdad was sacked. One hundred seventy thousand works were reported lost.
Stories Tell the Tale
I wrote Soccer in Sun and Shadow to convert the pagans. I wanted to help fans of reading lose their fear of soccer, and fans of soccer lose their fear of books. I never imagined anything else.
But according to Víctor Quintana, a congressman in Mexico, the book saved his life. In the middle of 1997, he was kidnapped by professional assassins, hired to punish him for exposing dirty deals.
They had him tied up, face down on the ground, and were kicking him to death, when there was a pause before the final bullet. The murderers got caught up in an argument about soccer. That was when Víctor, more dead than alive, put in his two cents. He began telling stories from my book, trading minutes of life for every story from those pages, the way Scheherazade traded a story for every one of her thousand-and-one nights.
Hours and stories slowly unfolded.
At last the murderers left him, tied up and trampled, but alive.
They said, “You’re a good guy,” and they took their bullets elsewhere.
* * *
Quite a few years ago now, during my time in exile on the coast of Catalonia, I got an encouraging nudge from a girl eight or nine years old, who, unless I’m remembering wrong, was named Soledad.
I was having a few drinks with her parents, also exiles, when she called me over and asked,
“So, what do you do?”
“Me? I write books.”
“You write books?”
“Well… yes.”
“I don’t like books,” she declared.
And since she had me against the ropes, she hit me again: “Books sit still. I like songs because songs fly.”
Ever since my encounter with that angel sent by God, I have attempted to sing. It’s never worked, not even in the shower. Every time, the neighbors scream, “Get that dog to stop barking!”
* * *
My granddaughter Catalina was ten.
We were walking along a street in Buenos Aires when someone came up and asked me to sign a book. I can’t remember which one.
We continued on, the two of us, quietly arm in arm, until Catalina shook her head and offered this encouraging remark: “I don’t know why they make such a fuss. Not even I read you.”
+—+
We are the nobodies, and for Musk and Thiel and Zuckerberg and all those robot fornicators, all of them, we are the flies on their shit:
The Nobodies By Eduardo Galeano
Fleas dream of buying themselves a dog, and nobodies dream
of escaping poverty: that one magical day good luck will
suddenly rain down on them- will rain down in buckets. But
good luck doesn’t even fall in a fine drizzle, no matter
how hard the nobodies summon it, even if their left hand is
tickling, or if they begin the new day with their right foot, or
start the new year with a change of brooms.
The nobodies: nobody’s children, owners of nothing. The
nobodies: the no ones, the nobodied, running like rabbits,
dying through life, screwed every which way.
Who don’t speak languages, but dialects.
Who don’t have religions, but superstitions.
Who don’t create art, but handicrafts.
Who don’t have culture, but folklore.
Who are not human beings, but human resources.
Who do not have names, but numbers.
Who do not appear in the history of the world, but in the
police blotter of the local paper.
The nobodies, who are not worth the bullet that kills them
*Note*: The “golden billion is Vladimir Putin’s and others’ concept of who wants to dominate the world and impose its will over unwilling nations. Putin said in Moscow the golden billion “divides the peoples into those of first- or second-rate, and therefore it is racist and neo-colonial in its essence.”
“Why should they be able to dominate the world and impose its own rules of behaviour?” Putin asked. He also made a reference to India, saying the golden billion were able to achieve global dominance “to a large extent … by robbing other peoples: in Asia, and in Africa” . . . and “(l)ook at how India has been plundered!”
Paul Haeder, Author 