You lucky suckers. You get to download my comedic thriller, “The Q Affaire”, set on YouTube, but secretly embedded deep undercover, here on the blog, just ‘cos I know you enjoy hearing about the kinds of fun and games and special ops, that go on in the Truth swamps of the Tubes. You might have even thought, as I did, that someone should write a book about these sorts of people, since they are so comic. So I did. It’s classified, for your eyes only, though I’m sure you’re taking these special comms seriously enough to keep what you learn from this document secret.
They are about as nutty as you can find, down there in the Truther cesspit, and if I wrote a novel about the real people I met, and told you all the crazy things they do, you just wouldn’t be able to handle it, but I knew you could definitely handle some laughs, romance and thrills, in a juicy Truther tale with twists. I mean who wouldn’t want a bit of that to nibble on? And…..if we slap them into a cesspit setting, and toss in some political twists and puzzles to keep you amused, we could have a really fun and fascinating tale to tell. We’ll even throw in a murder mystery or two, before we mix it up into a chaotically hilarious and delightful dish to serve you up with. You might even stagger through the maze and leave in one piece, after chomping down on this banquet, if you hold onto the narrator’s teeny handy tightly. Albeit with your head blown completely by all the laughs and thrills you’ve had along the way, by the time you make to the end of the book, and find the way out. So, you think you can handle the Truth? Then enter, at your own risk.
If you prefer a paperback to a download any time, and you’re enjoying the book, but going boogly-eyed from the screen flicker, you can pay for a pretty swish version of “The Q Affaire” over here, on Amazon. There’s a Kindle version there as well, and I’ve also got digital versions available on my little Etsy shop. Over there it’s on its 2nd edition, which hasn’t had any major changes to it, just a bit of fiddling about with a few commas, and paragraph lengths. Part 2 is available separately as well, there, for readers who have finished Part 1, and want to re-enter the maze straight in at Part 2. Something for everyone, then. It’s even been freshly cursed by a real witch, and it’s guaranteed to trigger anyoneTM(no money back, terms and conditions apply)
Don’t forget, there’s a podcast of the novel as well, if you like to listen to a story while doing other stuff. The episodes for Parts 1 and 2 of the book are clearly marked, just like the table of contents in the book itself, for anyone who has read Part 1 already, and just wants to see what happens in Part 2, which can also be read/listened to as a stand alone novel. Click the link below to find more ways to listen to “The Q Affaire”
I warn you though, it’s terribly high-octane type excitement in Part 2, so you might not be able to HANDLE IT, unless you’ve gotten through Part 1 intact. Buckle up for the book, then, and let’s blast off!
The AI jerks are always about, and there’s a whole brood of them, currently swarming, that’s a pretty nasty one. I’ve spoken about the game they play, many times on this blog. I haven’t spoken much about the kind of future they envision for us all, though.
To them it’s a Utopia, where all their desires can be fulfilled, and they get to be their best self. They want that for us all, apparently, and seek to educate us, so that we learn to love the AI, and long for the promised Eden of Singularity Land, where the robot and human enter into a (simulated and virtual) love pact, that there’s no going back from. This would seem like an unholy union, to the normal person, but these people are into all things freaky, and aspire to have everyone in the world become a freak as well, so they can announce that as the New Normal. Ben Goertzel is their pin-up boy, and Sofia the chatbot a fount of wisdom, in this dystopic vision the technohippies have in mind for us.
The idea of the Singularity is, in their minds, a kind of race to the bottom, for humanity, although they view the giving in, in a hedonistic orgy of vulgar oafishness, as a beautiful transition into a Brave New World, that we should all long for. They are bewildered when you point out that anti-humanistic Satanistic technofreakery isn’t really your thing, and suggest you just aren’t evolved enough to dig all the soft porn they post, to tempt you in with. Philosophy pisses them off, big time, too, as I found out when I posted my first comment in one of their threads, a link to an article about Plato’s conception of beauty, having seen one of them enthuse about her game character’s physical beauty, which, in her mind, was a by-product of kindness. The matrix started glitching, when faced with intelligent discusssion, and philosophy not just providing a cool allegorical reference for Plato’s cave, that could translate to a gaming environment as a shirtless male model on a couch in an underground carpark, and to heck with the philosophy bit.
Two people making logical philosophical points in their thread fried the circuits, and when logic didn’t compute, a fuse blew somewhere, that started out with threats……………..
then, rather hilariously, led to a curse being put on my poor ol’ book, “The Q Affaire”.
I mean, what has a comedic romance thriller novel done to deserve this, other than a spot of light philosophising, I ask you? Satanists aren’t big on humour, though. I knew that already, having come across many of them in my time on YouTube. You can often recognise them by the little wings, with puzzling little dots, which according to Q, is locust poop. Their idea of what is acceptable to post on social media is fairly poop as well, and I ended up having to report one of them to Twitter, for the video of the very young looking girl below, doing unmentionable and tonsil-damaging things to an unsuspecting banana, while dressed up as a cat. The girl posting it was a blue haired female who was doing her best to look like her gaming avatar, and one hopes that this ARG group of LARPers she associates with are just sharing their soft porn stuff between themselves, and not dragging children into virtual reality games with them, online. They seem to me to be a pretty good reason to not give your kid access to a phone or computer until they are at least 21. At least if you don’t want them to get dissed, doxed, and cursed all in a day, by satanic larpers playing an online ARG. This group strike me as people with a lot of personal problems, that they would like everyone else to have as well, so they can call it the norm. Thank goodness the Singularity is nowhere near. I’d hate to see what that thing would look like, if these were the brains helping program it.
Oh, I forgot to mention, being called a shill. Must have been the threats, curses, and doxing that made it temporarily slip my mind. Took me a while to decode the word salad in this Tweet I received, but basically this blue haired female avatar, who insists he’s a male, who just finds it more convenient to pretend to be female in Twitter, for strangers, but gets annoyed when they think he is one, with the mistaken idea they are treated better than men (I didn’t see his friends treat people too well, as they waltz around Twitter threatening and cursing people, and subjecting them to looking at their creepy porn content). He seemed to think I’m being paid to write my book, “The Q Affaire”. Or something. As I say…..
Goodness only knows precisely what’s being conveyed, because…
A. These people are confused about everything, ranging from gender, to how to speak English, right on up to how to visualise a decent future for themselves, based on behaving decently in the present……
B. They are inveterate liars, who are playing an ARG game online, the stated rules of which (letting people know they are in a game) they are breaking, themselves, because they have no morals or ethics, and follow the Satanic Crowley law only, “do as thou wilt”. What they don’t tell anyone about, is that they are hoping to entrap innocent people into joining their game, so they can mess up their heads, their lives, and threaten and dox them. For fun. That’s the average Satanist’s view of what fun is, you see. Welcome to the dystopian future. Or you could just fry their circuits, by saying no to their jerky game and depressing future.
Have you met the divine Mme. Sosostrus yet? She’s preposterous, and yet…..such fun. She’s quite the character, and seems unable to pronounce, let alone spell, her own name. Still, she has all this weird knowledge, she claims, from these Kookistani people that nobody else seems to have heard of. She’s pretty vague about their whereabouts, but Mme. Slives half way up a local mountain, with a troop of Capuchin monkeys for company, and only ventures abroad down the town, on Alice the bike, when out ofUisce Beatha, apparently, or when there’s a chance of some silver crossing her palm. Oh, there’s a piano half way up there, too, which, by her own account,they gather ’roundin the evenings, to knock out a tune or two on.
We’ve heard her singing, unfortunately, at a recent seance we had. As a writer, I seek out these Kooks, to help me cook up new books, and Mme. S was quite the hoot, as she literally threw herself into finding the ghost myself and Mr. Poxley-Warner dreamed up. With all this free entertainment, and barely containable mirth, we almost forgot teeny Foxley Poxley’s wailing for the evening. The only dark spot on the ectoplasmic spectacles was the fact that that Donna Emerald beat me to making art out of the pig’s ear that Sosostrus made of the performance, by publishing a play of her own. The pigeon post must have been intercepted, or some malicious spirit put the evening’s entertainment gossip about via secret twitching curtain coded signals, or teatime tattling, down the local cafe. Still, there’s a book and several dramatic paintings in it still, I suspect. Plenty of time for clearing up the mouse remains from the cooker, too. One can’t rush art, and she’s such an inspiration.
Oh, Ireland. Where are we now, after a full year of the big Lurgi lockdown? Nowhere further along to freedom being restored, it seems. Oh, sure, we had brief glimpses over the wall, but that was just to tease us, wasn’t it? A big joke on us; a prank to make us think that if we played along, our jailers would set us free sooner. Still, we learned to love our servitude, didn’t we? Kissed the jailor’s hand, and even begged to be beaten down some more.
Well, folks, I hope those of you that played along are happy now. What’s that you say? It’s people like me that are holding the rest of you back from getting your freedom? Suuuure. You keep on believing that, then, if that gets you any further along, towards freedom. I think you’ll find it doesn’t, but far be it from me to try to persuade you differently. I know well how people like to cling to beliefs that make them feel better. Bit sick of it now, are you? He he. Aren’t we all? I discuss a couple of aspects about the Lurgi lockdown, one personal, one political, that have cropped up for me recently, because of the events of the last year, in this livestream.
Never mind their psyOps. Maybe turn the narratives off for a while, completely, and dance to your own tunes, when you need a break from their madness? Freedom happens mostly in your own mind, anyway, some say. Just don’t tune out the truth, completely, through fear or blind trust, and expect it all to turn out grand in the end.
In the Truther Community of YouTube, folks can be touchy. This guy, although he likes to think of himself as the sensitive, touchy feely type, who just likes to “reach out” to other people, is mostly just touchy about his own favourite topic, alchemy.
What the heck is that, you may say? Well, it’s a medieval fascination, which passed for science in its time (Dark Ages, as they call them now, followed by the great explosion of innovation and re-discovery of architectural triumph and art of the classical world, and a good synthesis of old and new led to better results than messin’ about in dingy basements ever had). Outmoded, bad ideas tend to hang around for a while afterwards, like the funny smell from the stove top, when you’ve had fried fish for dinner. Now, while nobody’s stupid enough to think you can turn lead into gold with any profit accruing from the mess stuck to you when you try (wash your hands VERY carefully after messin’ about with that one!), the occult has become trendy among a lot of folks, who regard themselves as alchemists, and like to look at the pictures in old books online, that have pictures of people kissing the devil’s behind, and muckin’ about with Mason Jars, and so forth, in them. Now this guy, below, didn’t like the idea of being asked about another modern-day alchemist, a certain Mr. Crowley (AKA Baphomet), by me, when I popped by ask about his beliefs, and a self-triggering alchemy ensued. As I say, touchy. Maybe all that mercury goes to the brain.
I can’t say the livestream got any friendlier after the question was asked, but I did discover that it’s fine to be a Mason (not the jar type, presumably), but not so hot to be asked things about Crowley, the Mason.
Not sure why; maybe it’s some mystical reason I just haven’t the mind for, as I didn’t appear to be self-triggering, like our alchemical friend. Anyhow, on it went. It had been a 5 hour livestream, which would have given me the vapors, had I endured the whole thing, but the last hour or so seemed to revolve around the question I’d asked. Or just around me, since my question wasn’t appreciated, it seems, by anyone, not his pal “The Dude” in the chat, nor by the rest of those in chat, who seemed to know a lot about the magic scripts that were written about me, cooked up in the Truther-Tube kitchens. They should. They wrote them.
Now, I didn’t manage to find a man to help me understand what he was trying to say (not in there!), in answer to how he managed to cook up so many alchemical scripts, without reading Crowley, but I did learn that I was an “evil bΨtch” for asking.
The chat section, from which I was magik-ed away, agreed, and it was Khaos in there, with prescriptions for me being made up, and old formulas flying about, while I was trying to figure out whether this was their idea of a joke, or whether the mention of Crowley might be summoning up something darker, and far dank and dirty, with the fumes they must have inhaled in their experiments in the basement of YouTube. It was “Do as thou wilt” time in chat, and everyone was doing their evil bestest to wilt me, with the power of their mindlessnesss, and a few incantations. Oh, the beasts! Every rumour going around this small circle of jerks emerged from the odoriferous chat, as the pals worked together like a herd of goats chewing a ouija board, trying to make someone the butt of their accusations, as had been seen in many another channel they had “reached out” to, that like to mix things up, and shuffle truth with lies.
Good grief, the little demons had fun in chat, as Bob the insect man become more venomous, not to mention verminous, in his self-triggered rant, rather different to the impression he wishes to convey when he’s off with the birds, in Twitter. It’s all love and hearts there, with the demons kept in check, and pinned down, while they escape out of the Tubes, with a vengeance.
Who’s Tafoyovsky? His pal, Lestat, the Mexican vampire, who accused me on HIS livestream of paying a guy they don’t like (featured in chat, above, in an impersonation account, as Th Stg, to seduce me, although in Bob’s chat they said it was the other way around, and that he paid me. I wonder at times if Lestat is jealous, and wants the man to himself, as he likes vamping up pictures of him, dressing him up in women’s clothing.
The Virgin Mary, to be precise. I don’t think that’s necessarily a vampire thing, but I do know it’s a Crowley fans kind of thing. Reversal, and mockery, and all that, like the mockery of the Christian rituals they’re so hot on. Not that I would know a lot about these things, not being a Satanist myself. Now, theeeriousthly (as Truth Con would say), who’s going to believe that; as if such a gorgeous creature as myself would have to pay for such services. Are they blind seers, that they can’t see my lovely avatar, or do they just like old goats and oujia boards? Where do they get this nonsense from? Why the lady many call “The Tooth”, of course, who is the go to oracle for all sorts of visions and dreams to conjure with, and plenty of spit and venom to put in the Tube. And 100 percent reliable, apparently. Yeah, right.
Can’t follow what they’re talking about, still? Don’t worry, it just means you aren’t as stoned as them. Or not into alchemy with reality. To continue (and they did)…..
He must have to do a lot of tidying up, too, after his kitchen mix-ups, because he suggested I should knock the dust off that pussy. At least he likes cats, and chickens. Just not me, I take it. I’m sortof glad he doesn’t, in a way. I don’t think alchemy would be my thing, if you end up like this, all self-triggering, and all over one question.
The other alchemists loved it.
Remove your children from the room for this clip……..
At least he admitted that he was being a “total asshÓle. Ole, as Lestat might say. The admissions got thicker as the humors were still on him, and I learned a lot about how the bug thinks. He blabbed that he was just talking jibberish about the gang thing he’d been pushing, because he could say anything he wanted. He was right, because the video stayed up, despite my reporting it to YouTube. You can pretty much say anything and everything you want about someone on the Tube, and they’ll do nothing about it, when you complain to them. However, he wasn’t exactly apologizing for the lies, no. He was saying he was enjoying them greatly. It’s fun, the ol’ do as thou wilt thing, after all.
After long diversion from the question of whether he’d read Crowley, that I’d asked, he eventually came to the real answer. The answer to why he’d been telling such awful stories about me, and hanging out with others in the dungeons, who were. He wanted rid of me, off YouTube and Twitter. Aha. Perhaps he wasn’t very lucid in his thinking, saying it, but he was, for once, being honest. All this, to get rid of someone who he just didn’t like, because he saw them talking to someone he doesn’t like. No, Bobs. I’m afraid I do what I like too, I just don’t think anything goes, with no boundaries, and no respect, like you.
Bonus: If you’re interested in giving these absolute charmers more views, the whole 5 hours of fumed out nonsense is here. Viewer discretion is advised, but insanity might be more helpful, if you intend to watch the whole thing. If you just want to watch them berate me, here’sthe last hour.
Update, 2020: It seems that one of the people in this post, the winged beetle guy, has changed his ways, and gone to the other camp, having “found Jesus”, as they say. Well, there are two sides to every coin. Whatever his reasons, and whatever crutch he’s currently propping himself up with, it’s a big improvement from the self-triggering days, and he’s pretty much staying out of online arguments, despite his old adversary, Thomas Schoenberger’s best attempts to drag him into the virtual ring that keeps arguments going around in circles forever, like an oroborus chomping it’s own tail. He prefers bible stories to occult tomes now, and that ain’t so bad. Hopefully, no bible-thumping will ensue. Always gives me a headache, that.
Anyone who reads my blog regularly will already be pretty familiar with this lady, who runs an endless Con she sells as the Truth. She’s kept on truckin’ for over a year now, and the narrative has taken some twists along the way, with anyone who tries to use the other lane getting side-swiped or just plain run over by her inventive fictions and colourful language, all geared towards adding her perceived enemies to the story of the international stalker gang that’s pursuing her for her secrets (told nightly in detail) about the conspiratorial workings of paint factories, unions and cults of all types. Oh, and murder plots.
Lately, she’s garnered a new fanbase, made up of those who love stories, and wish to borrow some for their own ends, and others, who just like a laugh, and a drug free trip with the steamroller Convoy. Lately, she’s taken to Twitter to follow the fun, as others who joined the con convoy, hoping for a free ride on the tailgate of the lies, are tweeting away like mad, about stuff she really cares about. Emails. Yeah. Doesn’t sound exciting, does it? Some, though, like Denise, have an obsession with discovering who owns a particular address on the interwebs. One that she wouldn’t block, as you or I would, when we don’t want to write back.
It’s not a game, folks. These people aren’t really pretending to be mad. They actually are; it’s a Truth Community thing. You just wouldn’t get it, unless you’d lived it, but lemmie explain how this Bedlam ward of YouTube is run. It runs on lies, and if you aren’t a liar, the inmates get very worked up indeed, and you will find them turning on you, in droves. Or should I say, convoys. Maybe I’m the crazy one in a mad, mad world, because I keep telling the truth, even when nobody in the asylum will listen, even though I don’t have the word Truth emblazoned across my channel name, in an effort to convince people that I haven’t just been turning the truth on its head, to steamroller people into wanting to get off the Tube, so I can tell tall tales to the other inmates. I’ve been assigned to the back office, where I take notes on the patients, and make sure the drugs are locked up (though a few channels seem to have managed to forge the keys, as the opiates levels are constantly dwindling).
It’s a solitary life, but I don’t mind it. Once the patients are (b)locked up in their own wards, they aren’t any serious danger to anyone else, and they scrawl happily on their walls, with only the odd mumble heard down the corridor. My filing cabinet is stuffed though, and I find I must re-organize. Perhaps you could lend a hand, seeing as how you dropped in, or just put the kettle on, while I’m clearing up. Nice cuppa tea makes the medicine go down, I hear. Or is it sugar? You won’t find much sugar in the tweets I’ve got to go through, but you’ll spit your tea out, laughing. Here we go then (opens the cabinet of horrors labelled Corsi Emails).
Now, this is inmate No. 23’s favourite cabinet. Denise is obsessed with the “Corsi Email” in which she was cc-ed, months and months ago. She used to fancy Jerome Corsi somethin’ rotten, after Roy Potter lost his place on her pinup wall of her cell. Now she decided that the Jack Quin that signed the Email simply must be this Jack Quinn, based on a Google search of the name (spelling close enough, right?). And he is silver haired and attractive, and most of all, “impor-an'”, as she likes to say, in her best Boston/Texas crossover accent, Everything’s impor-an’ in Denise’s mind, and everything involves the gang that’s been stalking her, for oh, forever.
We have lots more files in the cabinet, ‘cos she toted the Email around all the cells on the ward, to get the other inmates involved. Several have now got the same obsession, and are tweeting all around the corridors, about the sender, whose identity changes constantly. Sometimes s/he’s a guy called Brian, sometimes Jack, sometimes Tom, sometimes he’s even on Twitter, disguised as a vet, serving as the alter-ego of one of the inmates who believes that you can be more than one person at a time.
Sometimes you have to humour the inmates, so when I’m not in the office, de-cluttering the cabinets I play along, nodding and smiling to all and sundry. They can get quite ratty if you don’t pretend that this is the normal world, after all. When this one, who just won’t take her calming meds, insists that an Australian vet is a858, I don’t point out that that’s actually her cell number, I just say, yes dear, and walk her back to her bunk, or if it’s not lock-up time, the recreational lounge, where she can mingle, and gossip with her friends. I leave it to the porters to break up fights, and go back to the office, locking the door behind me, in case they try to break in, to get at the opiates again.
Sometimes they play word games, or argue about pi (OCD patients in particular), but always the story told about the darn Email address changes. One minute it’s here, one minute there. It’s him. No it’s her. Honestly, these people could argue about anything, or nothing at all. They don’t seem to want to settle on a version; I suppose the days are long, and you have to pass them somehow, but they will keep sneaking into to the nurses’ lounge when they’re fagged out from a hard day herding nuts, and accessing the computer to send secret messages out to their Email fixations. The target of their fixation got so fed up with the endless stream of fruit and nut mails, that they replied with a missive that added even more confusion to the already confused recipients.
Now, just as misery loves company, this inmate had some friends, like the guy that identifies as a vampire, playing along with the tale, until the Email fecked it up for them, and sent them into a spin. I’m afraid I got a little short too, as they’d been at the medicine cabinet at midnight again, and I wasn’t happy to have to get a new key cut for the third time that week. I enjoyed the tweets they’d posted up so much, I teased them gently, about all their stories, and nodded away for all I was worth. Nod, and smile. Yes, dear. Back to your cell, now. Yes. I know.
An Australian vet that does puzzles, and is a composer too, living in America, that might be a transgender person, and that person you were talking to on Twitter’s just a liar. OK then. You know? How? Oh, I see, your vampire friend googled a858 and something about pi puzzles came up, right after the Lenovo phone result. And Denise says he’s in a murder gang, and is called Brian as well as Thomas and Jack with two nns. And Pi has a lot of numbers in it, sooooo……(rolls eyes, feeling headache coming on. How I resist the lure of the medicine cabinet myself, I don’t know).
Confused? Yeah, you will be, after emerging from a day at the office, here. And there’s no telling these people; they don’t want the truth. It’s not as interesting to them as the tall tales.
Time to scan the online ads, and see if there’s an easier way to earn a living. Oh, cripes! They’ve been at my computer too. Now I’ll have to change the locks on my office again, for the 4th blinkin’ time this WEEK!
Seems Defango has latched onto some new narratives along the way, and teamed up with some new people, for his Hoggbelly and QSlayers campaigns. His old pals, like Cheri, his favourite mod and second mommie, have been left behind for a while, to hold his teeny fort, while he trots through a variety of airports, to escape a subpoena in the Aaron Rich (brother of Seth Rich) lawsuit. The subpoena caught up with him on the same day he managed to avoid falling in an alligator pit, after being nearly trodden on by an astronaut. An exciting holiday, then, for DefangoTV, and he’s been updating us from his hotel rooms, and trying to read those complicated legal documents. Seems the court wants him to hand over all his internet communications, and it all proves to be far more interesting than even the tall tales he and his subs have been putting about of late.
He’d had them well trained already, mind. Years of slavishly following made them dog-like in their devotion, and he set them loose on Twitter, to try to cut a swathe through any conversations anyone else might be having with Thomas, well armed with a Chronically inaccurate map, compiled by a buddy, on what Defango has taken to calling his “BlackTeam”, the maps produced are designed to point out who is on the “other side”, the “White Team”, I guess, although the map colours change regularly, as confusing “layers” are produced exhaustively, by Chronic, who clearly has a bumper pack of felt-tips and a ruler at his disposal, or at least a handy little appwhich helps you target people with precision-ishness, assuming you have a high enough IQ to be able to spell their twitter handle correctly. Defango left the spelling to Chronic, and the other work in his chat to others. They tried to slay my good name in chat, but failed in Twitter, where they couldn’t control the conversation, and all sorts of info about the Black Team started to emerge.I suspected already, since the impersonation phone call and murder allegations had been made against me, that Defango and crew had indeed gone to the dark side, but some of the characters that emerged from under their rocks on Twitter looked like they hadn’t seen the light of the sun in a long time. This tattooed terror, Lestat, I knew already, but some new and disturbing things emerged into the light, along with the tattoo, along with darker aspects of his video work.
Turns out that Lestat likes ’em young, and although the age limit is 16 in some parts of his native Mexico, I’m pretty sure it’s not quite this young. I had heard allegations on Twitter, during the back and forth spats with Defango’s cultish subs, over my refusal to participate in the rather vicious anti-Thomas Schoenberger “Hoggbelly” campaign, and receiving all kinds of insults, started to realise that the people I’d not known very well before, had been tweeting out stuff like this, when I had thought the creepy back tattoo and dark videos were quite enough to be dealing with, let alone having to find out this kind of thing.
While I was still reeling from the idea that Defango really didn’t care what type of folk he associated with (well, it didn’t come as that much of a surprise, but it wasn’t pleasant, finding out just how bad), I found more Nazis, Satanists, and Anarchists crawling about with them, than you could shake a stick at and say shoo. I’ve never had to report so many accounts before, for tweets I had directed my way, like Diane’s lovely friend Anna, who is a Nazi, and has other Nazi friends that wanted me to know how awful Jewish people are, and how ecologically sound Hitler was, in getting rid of quite a lot of them. Diane turned her on to the narrative about Thomas, that he was an awful person, and probably Jewish, and away she went, a woman on a mission.
Turned out that Diane had been recruiting anyone and everyone that would listen to her stories about Thomas, on Twitter, by telling them he was an abusive man, and she the victim of his terrible deeds. She also had a major crush on him still, it emerged in her voluminous tweets on the topic, although she’d never met him. She begged to be unblocked by him, in tweets, before continuing on to berate and denigrate him to anyone she could get to listen.
I came in for a lot of her tirades, as she was convinced that I’d been up to some kind of jiggery pokery with him (though I’d never met him either), which she’d obviously wished she’d been up to herself, the general tenor of her tweets making it obviously that sex was on her mind a lot.
She wasn’t the only lady friend that was giving me what for on social media; back at the ranch, on YouTube, there I was, innocently commenting under a video, when who should spring out of the bushes, but Elizabeth Vering, and she was in a fit of hysterics as well, or at least put me into one with her complaints, as I couldn’t help posting this dittyin reply, though I suspect she’s more the romantic poetry type. I don’t think people will ever really appreciate my sense of humour as much as I do myself, somehow. I had to apologize to the channel owner for the mess in his comments, and back out gracefully, picking leaves from my attire as I retreated, smiling, and luckily, free of any scratches from the prickly bits.
The channel owner had the wit to remove the comments, as they were entirely unrelated to the content of the video, but I, of course, kept them, for my own amusement, and yours. The threat made me giggle, since I know her love of poetry, expressed in rambling comments under various Sofia Musik videos of Thomas’s, and I imagined she might wish to bore me to death with some epic poetry, perhaps Milton’s “Paradise Lost“.
Back on Twitter, the not so epic battle continued to rage, and there were tears tantrums on that rage therapy couch known as Defango’s channel, with everyone in a funk, and Lestat advising Defango to be smarter (how could he, one wonders, since he claims an IQ of over 200?), and say less. I wonder how he’s going to do that, now that everything he’s said over the last while will be all out there anyway? Maybe Cheri can perform some “emotional alchemy”, as she promised me in comments. She’s very keen on that sort of thing , with this the book she’ll use, from her single volume playlist.
Welcome to your Trolling Level 2 Skills for Professional Development course. We hope you have found your way around our YouTube campus, and find our facilities comfy and welcoming. We are all about helping you to learn the skills you need, in a relaxed and friendly environment. As you know, our Level 1 course was a feeder course, an introduction to the topic, and you should already be familiar with the basic skills every troll needs, in order to boost his channel subs, and ego, all at the same time, by use of simple drama and disinfo techniques, to disrupt the unsuspecting non-troll users of YouTube’s platform. You learned also the importance of building friendships, based around trying out these trolling techniques on other users, and why it is important to stay in a herd (incidentally, you have probably already enjoyed our lecture hall environments, where you can use our supplementary study rooms, tucked away quietly in the back, which you can spend time with your chosen groups, to get together to plan and implement your skills).
This semester starts with a demonstration from one of our lecturers providing an example of how a creative approach to truth allows the troll to tinker with it, until it takes on an entirely new shape, an important tactic, and a bolder, Level 2 skill which you need to learn on your way up the troll ladder to success, at least in your own mind. Never mind what the non-trolls think of you, when you have acquired the techniques of lying through your teeth while keeping a straight face, you will, by the time you’ve completed our Level 2 course, be so unable to distinguish which way is up anymore, from all the LARPage you’ve been implementing, that you won’t even notice those annoying normal people laughing their butts off at your attempts to fool people, which simultaneously turning up their noses at you, in disdain. This will cheese you off (you will learn cussin’ skills later on in Level 2, and I’m sure you look forward to putting that tool in your toolbox!!).
Soon you will try to wipe the smiles off the faces of good people, like this, by using every trick in the troll kit to steal their peace of mind, and happiness, and we know how you look forward to that ! We studied these sickening creatures we know as non-troll YouTube users, in our Level 1 course, but for those of you who need a refresher to stay focused, here’s how those monsters of joy we’ll never really understand can be recognised, by their unwillingness to let the troll ply his trade (to heck with PC his/her/its inclusive, ni*ga J*wish f*gg*ty garbage people try to insist on, cos we iz takin’ their last safe spaces away) , unmolested by the truth intruding on the lies.
With no further ado, then, may I introduce that second-rate troll with an professional entry level skill demo you will enjoy. Mr. Manual Chavez, known as Defango down the Tubes, as he tries to pin the blame on Donna Emerald, a non-troll normal channel owner, for the police calling to his house, on a harassment charge, because she turned up in his chat, and pointed out some fibs. He uses the level one skill you are familiar with already; tell lies then quickly blame the someone, anyone, for the mess you’ve gotten into, when the lies aren’t terribly believable (scapegoating was briefly covered at Level 1, and we shall be revisiting it next semester, in more depth), and you run into some bother with the cops (reverse trolling module, covered in semester 1, Level 1).
The new Level 2 skill is to add lies to those you’ve already told, and try to get them spread about as widely by your troll friends and allies, as you can. Loyal subscribers, who have been with you for a while are ideal for this purpose, as they become slave-like and afraid to leave the herd, lest they become the victims of your trolling themselves. They can also provide a source of income, based on whatever narrative you sell them (hey, maybe even give you a place to stay, if you can’t get a job?) , and Level 2 will teach you to turn your skills into cash, as your subscriptions grow. You will need to do the reverse pointy-finger tricks you were introduced to first, in our Level 1 course, and document the LARP for subscribers, as your marketing hook….. https://youtu.be/YwWG3ZOuOsg
…but with this groundwork in place, you will be able to generate that oh so important sympathy, once your subs engage with the narrative you present, and Presto! the cash appears magically, without any real work on your part, except a bit of hand-waving, and maybe a few tears too, if you have a lemon about. This requires a sympathy build-up, that can be tricky to get right, as some subscribers can get a bit turned off by seeing a grown man cry. Or threaten people, for that matter (we’ll be covering how to carefully edit your material, so this beginner’s mistake doesn’t accidentally occur, while you are in character). https://youtu.be/vPtSi_oHF4Y?t=3441
Your friends in chat and comments can cash in on their channels too, by joining in the narrative, and keep the drama and clicks coming. Some channels specialize entirely in narratives, to boost their fragile troll egos, by keeping the clicks coming, and money doesn’t always come through the front door, like the bigger channels have, where you can get subs to throw their cash at you, like elderly Tom Jones’ fans in a knicker frenzy. Of course, having subs who will believe any crazy story you tell, helps a lot.
As you know, from your previous studies, trolls can harvest material from other channel’s narratives, and some of those apple-faced, lovely granny elderlemon trolls can tell the best stories around, and joining forces with other channels is always something to consider, no matter how big your ego is, in the effort to develop those all important professional skills further, build your business up more, or just help the circle of friends to use the drama as a troll tool to help get more subs and cash clanking into the Patreon buckets, as your skills improve. All this comes with the skills already learned in Level 1, and don’t fret, because it’s not true what they say about your nose growing the more you do it, or the better you get at it. Do it right, and the only inflation that will occur will be to your own ego, and the number of both troll-subs, who enjoy participating actively or in supportive roles in the drama, and stunned gawkers as well, who can’t believe that anyone can believe it (how to test these sort of subs’ loyalty, for potential use as flying monkeys will be covered in module 4).
So, now you can see the learning experience that is your stepping stone to a viable career on the Tubes, and endless fun to be had with your friends, in chat and comments. Staying with the herd can have benefits, but cast your net wide, when it comes to creativity, as the world’s your burrito, just there for the taking.
Blast those non-fun-loving normies with both guns blazing, and soon you’ll leave them in the dust, and maybe even have the show you want, the only thing on the Tubes tonight. Go gettem’. Chaaaaarrrge!
Updates: The Ministry For Truth have deemed Defango’s old videos worthy of expunging from the records, since dissidents like Donna were spoiling the whole show, by exposing the inner torture sanctum, Room 101, to the light of day.
She's even trying to blame her recent Elderlemon Welfare visit on me, based on a lie she knows to be false, her and Defango's claim I rang the cops on him. Her name was shown, right in police records, which dopey Defango Tweeted, much to everyone's mirth at the time. pic.twitter.com/w0n1bIHJ6I
Defango like a good citizen, stays in his zone, while his lol-gran, Denise, continues to insist that Dissident Donna made the call to Big Brother, to get the police to Defango’s, because she didn’t get the update memo, naming Tanya the Terrible of Cornwall as the clever culprit. She’s also claiming she’s not hanging out with the old gang any more, even though she’s written a letter to help one of them out, to de judge. That secret pigeon post was found on a Twitter tree, and now the other gang are not pleased. What a shootout, down the Tubes! Duck!
* [Interesting Update: See Mindy‘s Tweet of 11th May, 2021, where she claims SHE reported Defango to police, despite the fact that the number’s registered to Tanya, on the police report! Hmmm. Guess who told me Tanya had “admitted” to the ‘phone call? Yep. Thomas Schoenberger. The plot thickens, again, what?}
I am the one that filed the police report on you. I just told the officer that I would rather see if I could resolve things peacefully before I pursued it further.
My family IS taken care of. Your patron is just committing crimes w the malicious broadcasting of false accusations
Thomas’s latest offering, where he finally gets the gumption to show his face (he’s got a bit of a shyness issue, and likes his privacy, but enjoys invading others’ rights to privacy regularly). He addresses some of his critics, face out, in mumbo Italiano, and taunts them in a level 1 troll demo, and rounds it off with a brief reminder of his brilliance as a composer, and puzzler.
Bonus Material NEW: More info has come to light about another close Thomas pal, Lisa Clapier, who was a big QAnon activist, when someone found this article, by her daughter. Wow. Some pals list he has going. Popular guy with some friends who were hardly snow white.
This reblog of the week explores the FnordicCulture of the Discordian Tribe of Eris. My own recent digging around has unearthed a few old but new gems, including this scroll of wisdom, shown below, describing how the Aani myths relate to the chaotic origins of Discordia, and the legends of Eris, the Goddess of strife and thingimy-bobs of a messy nature, described first by the fed-up philosopher Richard Dawkins, which blossomed into the later memes of the post-post-classical meltdown period. Confused? Good. You are starting to get the fnord of the thing. Read on, for further illumination.
Discordian YouTube Connections? I’ve often suspected there’s a large area of cross-over, but never been able to definitively prove anything. And just look at the bother one can get into, speculating on things without proof. Defango recommends Tarl Warwick‘s (Styx hexenhammer666′s) book on Occult Memetics on a recent video. Interestingly, Tarl Warwick is also the editor of this little tome. He must be a busy guy, as he is also running for the position of Governer of Vermont this year. How fnordy is that. If you are worried about demon infestation issues from reading the Grimoire, you could stick to the Discordian version, which you probably won’t catch demons off, unless you consider a fit of the giggles evil.
Sigh. I’ll probably never get to the bottom of the entanglements of ideas that criss-cross through meme culture. Meanwhile……..
I had a spur of the moment notion last night. I thought, dammit, I’m gonna do another livestream, ‘cos I like where the Q conversation is going, and I got some things to say. They might seem to be taking a rather jaundiced view of Q, but I’m not known for being a yellow-belly, so I took the plunge, and after a quick smoke and scribble on a sticky pad, had my topics organised, and was good to go.
Marketing, dull, dull, dull. But relevant to the topic, particularly the subject of deep marketing techniques, in relation to the YouTube (and perhaps, now, more main stream trending topic of Q). If you don’t know who the heck Q is, start here, and work your way back to me, ‘cos you are coming in at the tail end of the story. If you are familiar with the Q phenomenon, you might get a different perspective from my livestream chat (lecture, to be honest) about it, streamed over about an hour and a half. I tell you the order of topics in the beginning, so you can skip to the bit you are interested in if you are stuck for time, however, the topics are interrelated, so they make sense when the whole video is watched. Hope you find something of interest to aid you in your Q search for truth. UPDATE: The Discordians latest attempts to conflate Q, Cicada and thegame23, in accordance with the LARPing nature of the movement’s stated aims of turning everything anyone ever believed into such confusing nonsense that all of reality becomes a gluey soup where your mind gets stuck forever, making you incapable of distinguishing reality from fiction, and they get to laugh their socks off at meta-intellectual they are being. Truly nasty people, who don’t care what damage is done to people’s sense of reality, or what damage is done to other’s genuine projects, as they claim credit for the work of others, in order to carry out their OperationMindf*ck plans.
My recent tweets about Discordia and thegame23, and replies