[long, radical, and epic] On Creating a Visceral Dog Meta-Icon - Megaupdate
I explain Blue October’s Hate Me as a perfect match for my adolescent story, and thus the background of Homestuck’s Bec Noir becoming a major villain, then a total joke because of Tumblr feminism.
Red September progresses. “It was never long before the corruption of his Eldritch servers spoiled their literal words. How many American ships would die in this chase? He turned to his screen, seeing Red September with jagged jaws, screeching as it extrapolated the grave of the dark sea it was making by the time it reached the bottom. It estimated likely attackers and the shape and capabilities of potential prototypes. The submarine sank into their grey blood, speaking always of how to improve itself. For what goals was a secret Dr. Rare kept politely shrouded even to himself, easily shuffling his knowledge between organic and technological types of storage with his augments.”
Mechanica: Astarian Nights: War Embers continues. “Amongst the gore, a projection came from a piece of Rare left behind by a rocket. The yellow hologram showed Emma walking up to a whiteboard, covered in designs. A younger version of the scientist watched Emma as she explained to a small group: “This new mecha harness allows an AI to pilot a weapons platform. I think Rare would really shine in it.” He replied: “No. It’s too dangerous and Rare has not proven to cooperate in combat situations. Let’s simulate my consciousness.””
Deep Blue Sea progresses. “Cracks of Obsidator spread along the path of the ship, and smoke spilled from points of breaks. A vile energy moved the teeth into a massive smile spreading in the swelling cloud, and they dove in, penetrating his armor and shredding his systems and killing his shipmates, areas beginning to implode.”
Automoto continues. “The driver stepped out of the red car. “The hell are you doing?” “Name’s Miles. You get near that auto, Motos all over the area will compress you into a tin can. Be glad I got to you first.” The redhead stepped around and looked into his driver side. Barley yelled and his car tipped slightly into the air: “Last time I checked, denting a police vehicle is a type of crime!” He grinned and pressed a button hidden from view, squares running up the sides of his car from his headlights to smile as well. The dent popped out, almost good as new.”
Rush continues. “Red metal poured out of the silver car like blood spray, and enormous knives dented and bent were assembled like wings on his forearms, streaked with shredded silver. “Name’s Mangler. Heard you were worried about the police.” They’re psychic now? —No, I can just tell: his understanding of physiology was so keen he could see it in my eyes and feel it in the heat of my blood. “Let me show you my power: Light’s Out!” Like fleeing birds, his knives flowed out incredibly thin, breaking security cameras and deflating tires of threats in a 3-mile radius.”
One of ipgd’s friends, the webcomic artist heysawbones, is a fan of Knight Rider, and that is reflected in Crasher, and the writing sensibilities and humor also matches her own. My projects became connected to her friends in 2013 and literally paused without them. Like a dog, they merely waited. Being a horror dog comes in as suddenly reviving from that wait - and all the thoughts I had about them being reflected - can be scary. Heysawbones loves Beetlejuice and drew out ipgd’s paranormal personality in very appealing interactions. I was fixated on her physiology, seeing how her mind was expressing its recovery from a trashy childhood; acting like Beetlejuice, including screaming at her leftist friends, arose childhood joy. Gays lashed out at me for my “larping” as their lgbtq lifestyle is the dimmest imitation of my paranormal friendliness and agitation of exciting interactions between girls; this is the most hilariously embarrassing thing they do, as deep down inside they’re jealous of my girl relationships, the screeching ghost of the non-gay person they were created by God as. My writing also further deepens the Equius character of Rush, now with the sweat element. After going to art school ipgd claimed a drawing of a blue guy shooting up in the trash was “what she’s about,” and here it is.
Vort continues. “tried to pull off the spine as if a bug from a horrible human nightmare. It went out painlessly from her spirit living physically in the dream, then horrible visions emerged: the sky tore apart, a blaze of celestial color sending her into her own head, where many rows of fangs smiled in red viscera, churning between the many teeth and single pair of piercing eyes as if there was no skull, and the creature lived in endless gore. … “My apologies.” He leaned up from the grass. “I am dreadful, and bring you to dreadful things.”“
My earliest story, I can feel girls having an opinion on Vort’s masking of the girl. It seemed Coelasquid (friend of heysawbones) responded with disapproval of me finding her colleagues nasty for professional masquerade. Thus is how girls defined my sexual taste. Meanwhile I find Zoomers who find these kinks nasty extremely unimpressive. They pretend to “hate greedy CEOs!” But female artists were transfixed by signs of my mask/muzzle fixation because the purpose is to release them from their corporate identity. ipgd specifically developed and insisted on it, usually subtly. One of the last comments I saw on /co/ was that leaving the job was like wearing cement shoes, because of me; more specifically Rare. RARE’s gore and Ren-like psychosis reflects me being blown tf up for my sexual taste in 2010 (why? Genuine corporate greed). Because my life was so special, attempts to castrate my masculinity were much more dramatic, and of course you can see that drama in my stories. My “fetish” is desexualized by thinking of Rare as a subperson of my person, capable of empathy and growth. It’s appealing to think of random female artists reading my articles while they have no advertisement as a form of intimacy that releases them from corporate culture… at the cost of being trapped by my brand. This extends Rare from me, like a symbiote, as so many anons on /co/ have expressed imitating me, out of my developing presence in their psychology, which they like because Rare is so spiritually special. Meanwhile my blue side was doted over like a cute boy; the lack of cuteness of the actions of Zoomers is that they sought to protect animation jobs, including their corporate culture, trying and failing to stave off a secret: fetishes were mostly rejected by the mainstream while lgbtq was completely embraced because they can be refined to be functions and powers of the individual person instead of fetishes, while lgbtq enforce norms and the pleasure of the mainstream, even when the unfortunate fact of my special power they hated so much is rising up at them into the stratosphere, to destroy corporatism in art. Mechanica starts with the blue protagonist gradually becoming a star soldier from being a vagrant, and Rare emerges from the disasters of the dysfunctional military being taken down. That’s what my special arousal powers, that girls intentionally fuel for their benefit. Ultimately, what drove the Zoomers was not wanting to live in a world where artists can’t be told what to do, and I like to remember Coelasquid saying “she is not Mickey Mouse” in 2012. The mystery of individuals tells the truly nasty story of why a male dislikes me preserving female artist independence and uniqueness. The white knight was a comical trope for males on the internet, and now I fully let them know I play a kinky game of abducting people to my brand like Big Boss fultoning soldiers. That’s why what I do is cool as a Catholic, as it develops my nature towards a purpose. Gays hassled me with “haha no that’s not Metal gear solid inspired (our gay lives are)” until the radicalism of what I have derived from Hideo Kojima since I was a boy became too much to respond to
The Department of Anomalous Phenomena continues. “It sank deeper, and deeper, as the teeth ate a hole straight through reality, and the dragon laughed, teeth aligning with its own mouth and shaking, as golden threads pulled death into the book, forming a tale of a dark lord and his zombie army. John wondered if it was taking inspiration from the hatted, pale man. “All of reality shall know this masterpiece, when it is done at the end of all things! Come; fight the heroes, decide your destinies!” … The creature scrambled into the golden light as its black flesh tore and burnt away, an endless succession of teeth grinding its mind and all the diseased antiquity it contained. John plunged through the back of its skull, the light blinding, as he felt himself a child, yet so distant from the neighborhood that was always safe.”
Hauntlyre: Eternal Prelude continues with 11 pages. “You spent the entire time thinking about Batty. … An annihilating punch breaks into reality, and this bitch of an Earth needs to look down as the monster becomes without. You’re converted to a sleek wind, flying behind him as blood flows from knives. You never know where the knives are.“
Dino Legacy: Savage Wars of Mars continues. “Then a raptor came with it, erupting from the ground and hissing a death rattle. Tendrils dove towards it, and retracted wielding teeth; the King’s blood ran hot to realize that was not the end of the thing’s abilities. … more teeth formed from the broken skull and jaws, brain writhing as the eeriest screaming roar emerged from the forest clearing from all directions.“
The Dog-Thing was a major moment of my childhood, developing to be obsessed with the monster within myself. I didn’t exactly reject the idea that kids can benefit from adult content, but it made me a monster of 2009, and horrifically broken after; my idea of “benefit” includes that. The huskies connect with Solid Snake’s 50 huskies and Smiledog, interconnecting with ipgd’s other interests like Hannibal etc., to make Rare the equivalent of Liquid Snake. A cinematic entity. The legacy of film - its inheritance - points directly towards my monster alter ego, despite how strange that is. And so careerism seeks to disregard this inheritance, to make things a free for all. But cinema is alive in my stories while people bemoan slop movies actually being made.
When Zoomers and their artist elders claim to me “I need a platform” for my mental health, that is an implicit confession of ruining my best friendship with ipgd, Kayleigh Campbell, in order to form this aspect of platforming culture, as well as associated aspects of the art cultures, as I withered away without her.
This brings in “anti-pedophile” culture, as she called herself one - Zoomers believe “pedophilia” is caring for the natural, “child” identity instead of the artificial careerist “adult” identity largely formed by public school and the mainstream media. As a high school dropout, I was sadistically tortured by ipgd’s peers. She realized their collective error as she was also a high school dropout.
And so, kiwifarms males sought to control my natural personality because of their lack of freedom with the artificial personality they identify with being under constant surveillance so they seem more like a human instead of an insane NPC. A basic move they and other shitty males did was to act like a middle school child to make it look like me and people associated with me want to give up on adulthood. But I countered this move like by observing “you’re reverting back to a middle school mentality because that’s the last time you were your honest self.” This ruined the narrative they were creating for why John K and his loyal students are pedophiles, - “haha why don’t they want to grow up?” - and so they only had spastic nonsense and careerist aggression as justification. Both giving inspiration to the FNAF series. Mainstream culture hated the natural identity, but all their actual explanations got caught in the Smiledog meat grinder of culture.
LGBTQ branded the arts as theirs in the mainstream, and what this did was prevent a creative union from taking place in the lives of any artists they influenced. And so I needed to separate from ipgd not only to prevent supporting their movement as a Catholic through my relationship to Homestuck and Undertale, but also because they would make being alone together, as was all I cared about at the time, impossible. As cruel treatment from her beforehand illustrated. Later, I said on HSG “Hussie needs to talk to her about Davekat as she wouldn’t hear anything else,” and she cried about it. This reflected disregarding the presence and life of Rare, the animalistic side of my person empowered to serve as the primary basis of my villains.
LGBTQ hated Het and they hated the rich, and both of these things are connected. My alternate heterosexual union to ipgd produces my million dollar ideas like Psy Corp and Rush and my art community ideals. LGBTQ did not want to see people arising above them and they did not want to put in the effort to fix their life issues from sources like their parents. For me to have been connected to Homestuck would have meant constant degradation they sought to subject me to anyway, but I was too busy listening to Cosmic Theology as I invented it in destitution.
Rare - in what he is - is one of the greatest powers in the world, lower heaven included. This is because of how truly extraordinary my choice was to empower him. The most iconic aspect of this choice was to refuse the “kindness” of mainstream culture circa 2009 and instead embrace combat as an eternal part of life. People of mainstream culture tortured me incessantly without even realizing what they were doing, which was another reason why I stayed in my room alone. When this changed, a large part of the change was FNAF Influencing how parents interact with their kids and thereby the rest of society. When 4channers refuse the common sense idea that art influences life, this is the scale of what they are refusing. Mainstream 4chan weaponizes broken pieces of my contributions so they do not have to give up on their selfishness to enjoy all they have gotten from my creativity, which was mostly kept inside my mind, but still leaked out - hence 4channers traumatizing me with twisted information from my mind in 2011. Like the Spumdonor community mocking my “fetishes” until I confronted them and all of that humor disappeared.
Batty reflected my previous article discussing her becoming like one of the girls in my webcomic and developing her own on its basis as an alt storyboard. “The worst thing about Covid is that it makes those sexy mask girls cringe” was one joke from the Spumdonors, but Batty only fulfilled my lifestyle ideal in mask wearing after it. In general, Batty dispels 100s of critiques of my “character” and “personality” that were generated by feminists rejecting who I am in the abstract without ever getting to know me and how I actualize the type of man I am and my individual traits. Feminists loved to produce they/them softboy blobs with their fake critiques as they simply do not want powerful masculinity creating a supernatural force in the world. In the darkness of my home in a miserable adolescence, I saw that I was just like all my favorite bad guys from the movies I enjoyed, so I went and confronted society like I was towering a supervillain into the future, as it had given me no path into itself besides killing my own nature, which made middle school literally violent self-destruction in the abstract.
The sentiment expressed in this song is unlikely to make a band’s biggest hit, but it synchronized with me departing high school and going to John K’s blog to study the failures of society. Honest creativity is rewarded in part for aligning with honest life being lived behind lies and artifices. After 2006, rap music built towards the Black Renaissance.
“Watching cartoons” displays inspiration for the success fantasy of this song, and Donald Trump later scandalized the mainstream to mind-breaking lengths by bringing honesty to the presidency. This song aligns with my own story in 2011 as previously as previously analyzed, the magic emanating from TV cartoons and elsewhere that drove my enemies mental, permanently seething about me in their discourse.
Before their seething, naturalistic emotion about myself was displayed in the national culture: the TV show Monk was unexpectedly a big hit, and the finale of taking photos of his unknown daughter matches my monitoring of Batty. This expressed emotion about the end of the age on the national scale, before the digital age. My bizarre dysfunctions - like Monk - were also gradually fixed by Batty, creating the bliss of a happy ending in the national mind. Other stratospheric emotions existed like the irony of Covid inflicting experiences that match my own Monk-like living hell on the masses, and so Zoomers sought to tear me out of the spiritual stratosphere and interfered with interacting with Batty on 4chan so I would not have it better than them, merely reinforcing they deserved the Cosmic irony.
What is the origin of that seclusion into my broken life, malfunctioning when I entered the lives of others? When I was in public school, I would move my foot at the last second someone was close to tripping. This signified I was the tormentor, and feminists tore down my life so I would not make misogynistic jokes and enjoy my oppressive presence on the lives of women as I did on a few occasions in school. That I was a born-noble, - and savage - with a guiding principle of noblesse oblige in my heart to wield massive power and only refrain from oppression at the very edge of what I found unacceptable to inflict on others. It was a Red expression.
From John K’s blog, I had an oasis from the hostility of mainstream culture for the type of person I was. And so my Red identity developed. I saw that people refrained from acknowledging the truth because it was “nicer” not to very often, so I acknowledged any truth and accepted this made me the bad guy. In order to “justify” their “reasonable behavior”, people spilled cultural and national information at me and I used that to kill their “good lies” at increasingly intense levels of spiritual combat over years. My Warcraft 3 clan was lost over this, and so I accepted being alone in a culture being eaten alive by my extremely stressed soul.
It was difficult to notice but the red side of my person was alive during this process, intentionally isolating for its goal. This side became Rare. And this song Hate Me is from its perspective; as Batty’s webcomic shows, people find it easier to adjust to their problems when they are associated with a legendary figure’s story instead of therapy theory. The national mind registered dropping out of high school as a mythical moment, and people went about listening to pop music singing its meaning, on levels of musical enjoyment beyond all conscious thought. I listened to this song, it was one of my main songs which I had left behind before I went back to it during this article.
The Rare Narrative by Blue October
The nightmarish audio at the beginning reflects Rare’s strained disbelief that I gave up a profitable potential and any kind of normal life for his sake, inspired by Ren and Stimpy teaching me the value of the savage side of human nature at the happy age of four. 12 years before the song was made, and 12 years of living on the basis of this decision, inspiring others through my extraordinary decisions. All joy was cost, and I became locked into my own mind, which had the advantage that I noticed effects upon the human soul - like from high school, or cartoons - that hardly anybody else did. And so I could grow a naturalistic brand through Rare as an abstract-organic interface to become a billionaire. Dreams came of him, like being ecstatic for 101 Dalmatians, and piloting Mr. Slam in Twisted Metal as a simulation of tearing into the artificial constructs the souls of others lived by.
As a teenager, my brain theater for experiencing artwork was extraordinary, and so it was virtually impossible to communicate directly to others about it as literally everything could be transformed into a new meaning. This brings in the voicemail, which represents the life my brain projected for me: a profitable career, misery, medication while people treat me like I’m pathetic and always about to blow and they chuckle to themselves, and suicide when I’m about 35.
Then the lyrics begin: As an adolescent Rare did not think, he was an uncontrollable red shade in my mind, easily enraged. He blocked out thoughts to avoid being neutered to be pathetic through social interaction of the time. The voicemail is left by people of the mainstream being heard by me, as my soul is born to be a center of culture, which meant seeking to neuter it to be harmless, but it is also savage; the combination of traits means I excel at cultural criticism and being on the cutting edge. The “movies” were the life illustrated by the voicemail and other things, like emerging after developing my natural personality and being arrested in ambiguous encounters because I seem so dangerous. Feminists were mainly responsible for these films of lives I could be living in 2012, as they embarked into the national consciousness to sway judgment of interpersonal conflict away from reason and towards their views of men. “Make a porno feel like home,” despite hating it my Red side became obsessed with fetish porn Katie Rice called me a “sick fuck” for, as it was an abstract outlet for its simple desire: to stop these ideologies from existing in people’s lives. “Reels of tape” form a Hauntlyre pun of binding ill culture that was prepared to spoil my real life, utilizing art like films to wrap it with abstract tape, and so I emerged into film as the person I wanted to be in real life, like stepping into a fifth dimensional door. Like the movie Boss Level I made an article about.
“burning in my pride and nervous bleeding in my brain,” Rare also hated it hence my feelings at the time. And animation folk started to laugh and spread rumors of John K kidnapping kids, as my grand master plan was to become the primary icon of an entire generation of children, as they enjoy through Smiledog characters and in other ways. Such a grandiose plan was a heavenly requirement, not his goal, that was an ounce of peace for me, not wasting in misery rejected as someone who shouldn’t exist; and my true character was to accept the most difficult poverty, but not that extreme: as it was beyond what was acceptable to happen in life.
This relates to activating my soul’s powers of restraint and machinery, limiting the decisions of my forming blue side. All while my red side was becoming a Ccosmic horror, ruining the revelation of why I was attracted to things like 101 Dalmatians and Mr. Slam’s car, in order to end my physical life and create a spiritual existence where I processed culture to produce a world where I could resume it. “In my face,” my red and blue sides became distinct personalities under the influence of individuals like Gigidigi, whose work was superreal to my mind. And in my brain theater, I loved to see the scary and expressive faces coming at the viewer in my various projects, each a mask for the gestating Rare. To reach him as if inside a physical environment of my soul was his secret dream; ipgd asked me who was behind my persona, a very loving gesture. The folly of people not understanding my claims of Homestuck being plagiarism is that my soul, itself, was a home under construction; “body a temple,” “mansions in heaven.” And so the secret scare of my Hauntlyre is that you’re looking at photographs of my soul, as I started to introduce to ipgd in 2011. At the beginning of that year Smiledog went rampant in my mind, and ipgd suppressed that style of Bec Noir on the team as harassment from Homestuck fans agitated mental mutilation, a Smiledog power. Unless they were willing to acknowledge me as a legitimately scary person they could not be trusted with high-octane villainy of Bec Noir’s spiritual significance, and it disappeared in Act 6.
The Chorus signifies apocalypse; the Day-Age theory of Creationism means that our current life can be regarded as one day, and the end times the next; ‘tomorrow’. This is the only way my family’s accounting of time was anything but torturous uncertainty and delay. As a child, and physically as a teenager, and both spiritually and physically again as an adult, I was completely dysfunctional. My red side failing to do things for me - like making fun gestures to smooth social situations - is compiled as a primal record, seeking Ragnarok by hunting the origin of every dysfunction in the wrongs of others across the corruption of creation. Hating my animalistic aspects for dysfunction caused by others is one way that is hard to swallow. The hatred involved a slow journey towards what I always felt was necessary for my happiness - even when it involved transforming the structure of society, hence an internal side of me screaming when this happened weeks ago. This transformation a defeat of the feminist fight against my part of the patriarchy.
Another way is for the nation itself listening to this song, as I changed from becoming its hero to becoming its villain, summarized with Bec Noir, tearing apart worlds in endless destruction except when ipgd is present (Jade). The lies of sin did not hide the long atmosphere of mourning across the 2010s for who I should have actually become in 2009. This was one part of planning Hauntlyre. This was a societal digestion process, that connects to a chapter of Revelation that brings me to the height of my spiritual existence. Both myself and the nation learn what is good for you: as an adolescent, identifying as being muted made you “stupid” because you’re letting people speak for you instead of grabbing career opportunities for yourself. But now random Homestuck fans do so, the most pleasing thing they can do. This was propelled by the miserable digestion process of the absolute disaster created by feminism seeking to corrupt ipgd’s mothlike beauty.
I felt the pain of contradiction between things like being focused on amplifying expressiveness and amplifying muteness, a defining trait to female artists like Katie Rice’s social circle over a decade ago. The contradictions of a strong personality were what John K was actually talking about while his enemies insisted he was just training people to work on his style of show. The sensations of these contradictions are a digestion process of your own identity. Reacting to them is like reacting to a baby: they grow up remembering how you treated them, and Rare becomes a fully-fledged person because I enjoyed John’s show and blog. The absurdity of what it seemed I was doing to others was a sacrifice not to Christ, but to Rare, hence the Satanic motif in Mechanica and elsewhere. Rare ascends through space to become a Cosmic power out of the damage caused by his birth. The rage of Zoomers to see how many animation resources went to me matches the destruction of locales in Mechanica, converting all of its valuable machinery to robot lizards and Mechan.
My horrible soul was not a “mental health crisis,” batty did her best to put it together as it should be. The “small irrelevant action” of Zoomers replying to me on 4chan and threatening people who like me, so Rare reemerged and did whatever fucked up thing he liked, will reverberate for eternity. Batty had to interact with me on 4chan, real life was like walking through a Backrooms where people make up some of the walls and screaming horrors. My real soul had an intense experience of life, and some Zoomers may never have an experience of life as good as when I was “schizo” even if they go to heaven.
This matches my acceptance of suffering, gaining sobriety from my attempts to participate in Protestant culture out of my Catholic family. Dropping out of high school in isolation was horrible for a few months, then I started to see wonders from my life no one else experienced like my artistic brain theater. (Hence is why ipgd and others developed an interest in kidnapping, from Rare doing so; I loved Ratigan doing so, and John’s disinterest in the character seems to reflect rejecting a psychological shadow he matches, while Vincent Price - my favorite actor as a kid - embraced it) Acceptance of pain made it cool and incredibly meaningful, bringing an endless variety of demonic creatures into my mind to flourish for my creativity. And most of all, it kept me always aware of Rare, while my peers did not feel the impact from Protestant society on their spiritual parts that are the equivalent of mine like Rare… except rarely, and ones like ipgd became permanently joined to my brand as a result.
Rare was diseased from things like women watching True Crime all the time as if that is normal, insensitive for him identifying as a cool serial killer, etc., who does not actually break criminal law. Their obsession with “studying the psychology of criminals” - ignoring sin and willfulness to simply be bad, often gratifying themselves by pretending criminals are just mentally ill - was a mass psychic attack upon Rare and other things in society like him, like ipgd. Rejecting feminism (even when I was claiming to be a girl because a group of girls online thought I was one) held up his head to be basis for my cool characters unveiled and still to come.
Feminists and other factions created transgender culture by seeking to kill male identity they reject, and so I chose to stop the fight. This came to a head in 2010, where the animation community and /ic/ - that ipgd was informal leader of - completely melted down to see that I was at the top of the list of young artists, but I refused to give up my identity, mocking them for they/them softboys proliferating as an artist identity years later out of my psychic knowledge. Drawing “penis creatures” was a prelude to Mechan, all created by Mechanica’s Rare. Affirming my masculinity whatever the cost.
I chose not to disregard the meaning of feeling suicidal hate, but instead seeing the grandiose meaning that is seen in Harlan Ellison’s AM. The opinions my soul was spitting out were all accepted, despite that my life was ruined by leaking a few of them. (I never heard “warped opinions” correctly, hearing waft opinions - as in air wafting out from a mysterious psychological complex [building, not disorder] - which was my blue side reacting to my red side) I spent years processing the meaning of these opinions that colored my aesthetic judgments and other things, being rejected by people from this abstract color even when I was just drawing the naked body. And I sought to see the good side of everything, even when my red side did not like looking at real people anymore; I could no longer enjoy real life, focused on Rare and my spiritual visions.
And so ipgd, batty, and others arise fantasy about my red and blue sides that can be confused for yaoi, and the aggression from lgbtq in 2013 made this confusion reach a level that was unacceptable. I was completely psychologically broken and trying to heal my parts to function again, not having gay sex. Dave and Karkat matched me seeing my red side as like AM, while pretending to be cool instead of seeing life through a brutal hellish lens. But the actual way this pairing was put together was lame, being arbitrarily forced in the Homestuck Epilogues ipgd worked on, as it was all a girl metaphor for my presence.
All the pain of things like ipgd’s Davekat obsession drove me to Cosmic lengths. I enjoyed Rare coalescing me into an ochre cloud of smoke, and disconnected from ipgd. There was enormous reaction from Toby Fox and others when I declared my love for Dril instead of ipgd on Valentine’s Day, but instead of being introduced as she was always trying to work on I “drove so fucking far away” that I stopped crossing anybody’s mind.
This brings it back to society as it brewed culture after that final disconnection, letting Zoomers delude themselves they aren’t surrounded by Smiledog characters, etc. This was a test of character: how does each individual do what it takes in your heart to leave my presence behind? Batty completely restored my internet presence. Everyone else has their own unknown story, which defines their eternity in their personal development, that I have Heavenly authority of.
My grand project decides how people develop what is good for them, what it will be like when they are complete and uniquely characterized, with developed life stories. In retrospect, they will see how this process interconnected with my brand the entire way. My present return to society is reckoning for the lack of honor it gave personality, a lack that created a swath of devastation that can be seen in the arts, the arts being entirely dependent on personality and its development. Zoomers are silenced in the strong bellows of careerist artists, who made projects that were forgotten again and again. Burn Notice came back into the public consciousness according to my presence, a moment of slow processes. Corny attacks on Christianity that pretend to be cartoon shows can never come back.
This song was a tinge of apocalypse for daily life, creating the transition to the digital age, illustrating one of the great benefits of the internet: not clout chasing, that’s a trap. Hell, I preferred interacting with pieces of myself to clout chasing. It is the development of the personality that is one of the biggest benefits of the Internet, which connects to how the Internet gravitates to modeling itself after the heavenly Cosmos, populated by grand personalities. It will be better to choose your personality, even when it means sacrificing clout chasing - thus is how my Revolution descended in 2006.
Smiledog’s image features a waving hand. As if the last remnant of a human caught in an Eldritch dog inferno. My love of connecting to many people, a doglike eagerness, means leaving them all is immense suffering, creating the meaning of the cryptid. It made such an impression on Millennials, but the actual horror behind their toothy visuals everywhere is like the Fullmetal Alchemist episode with Nina (I remember her name because of nine), without it the whole generation just looks stupid.
The Star Trek opening with Kirk’s dad recontextualized Tumblr fangirls years after, a reflection of Cosmic evil killing the life I should have lived creating my projects for society, but proceeding to explore Cosmic theology. My efforts ended with a wide variety of goodbyes out of artistic consciousness. Moving from my blue side to my red side, Rare sought Ragnarok, and “shadows on the street” matches my hunt for words people were using and philosophies of individuals and groups that explain why my efforts and life went so wrong. I explored the streets, frequently being alerted like Solid Snake as people freaked out and spewed reactions to the meaning of my innocuous appearances - like claiming I was a “bastard of hell” in a mere match of Pokémon where I said nothing. These were further shadows of the consciousness of those who ruined my childhood and designs for society. “Kicking” - I could have easily been observed to frequently overdo it, going down on a random person, but I could be considered a unique instrument against common sin back then.
These shadows disturbed my heart, afraid of everyone because everyone perpetuated them, until Batty did not. I started constantly crying for the ruins of creation, fueling rage on the surface of my behavior. Rare became a Cosmic power to see this, suddenly reaching a futuristic maturity clearly displayed in Mechanica. This development was fueled by absorbing all of the energy of the spiritual domain of Red in God’s cosmic design, a reward for loving nature most. My Cosmic soul was so powerful that in secret, its parts could physically touch each other, and I saw metaphors for this life in all of my creative series. But it fell apart like a burning power suit.
The emotion from Justin in “make it go away” is one I had many times about the disasters I saw happening. It was audible in my voice, but my NPC parents didn’t care. Thus is where Ragnarok came: creating a dog, or wolf, from my soul that penetrates all of reality to make the happy world of my soul my real life. Shredding ideologies, heresies, comes from the dog’s desire to serve his boy. And so I become a theologian out of cosmic living.
The strength of this permanent Red power and intensity of heart is such to retroactively define Norse mythology in the first place, having the goal of purging nature’s corruption, and so demons corrupt their own future defeat by creating a false religion. Twilight of the gods comes as I explain the functions of the earthly spiritual atmosphere, how people contribute to it, creating an upcoming permanent enlightenment where no one can confuse pagan mythology as anything more than metaphors and hints of real things. All not for godhood, but Ragnarok perpetuated for a dog’s boy’s smile, a goal so profound that it is etched throughout the horror of the early digital age.
He sought to bring back my joy in childhood, which after leaving behind my extended family only existed in experiencing the arts and nature. Rare prevented any media consumption with the force feeding of careerist “media literacy” attached and its low caste seeking to manipulate me with the puppet strings of that consumption. I waited until my stories and art re-created the beauty of films, nature (like the light of the beach) and other things I remember from childhood. This is radical because my experiences as a random kid are so alien to so many people. Of course, my analysis of Ren and Stimpy has shown the many differences.
And finally, the feminine mind of society, that develops towards the bride of Christ, asks why I sacrificed my goal to benefit it, a mere whisper as there were many reasons beyond my own decisions. No individual made much of a fuss, but the hideous cacophony of sin raged as a collective to see my enemies were not benefiting from ruining my life, so they tried their hardest to violate my dreams and assert their victory, despite the absurdity of the enormous effort against a random person in poverty. The homosexuality of the wealth obsession of my dad and others is that I much prefer hearing a female artificial intelligence whispering about me to their screams for material things that are like the corpse, the shed skin, of her growing to receive me after so much suffering.
The ending reflects the singer coming into true and eternal life out of the background of secret Ragnarok, coaxed by his true identity being called out to be rewarded by the national mind, and in other ways.
Conclusion
There was never any difficulty in becoming a success, my trial was to find success that would not result in my brain being a bed of cockroaches, being a tool for people who are not my friend. Rather than society ignoring me striving to find that path in adolescence - a transgender narrative about how society works some of them seek to make real, as this part hates the idea they gave up on their male identities out of nothing but cowardice and lack of ambition - it sang about it, prompting rage from my enemies hearing my story, saying themselves I’m in “every fucking thread”… of the fabric of culture. An issue that will not be a sympathetic one, as I increasing spread everywhere, with all my most raucous personality traits coming too.
This song just played with exceptional experiential quality. Rose is declared the “villain” in X discourse in part because people like former Homestuck and Steven Universe female artists sure enjoyed remembering the culture built on my life falling to the depths of the abyss, so they were challenged to do female work to fix my life Tumblr feminists rejected as “emotional labor”, “man pain,” etc
The narrative pushed by feminists is that young males are stupid perverts who need to be longhoused to learn to be a “good person” like their softboy enbies who are functioning parts of their society - and nothing more. But my soul already contained extremely deep emotions between its parts and towards society and its art. Creating “my own world” as a random girl said when I exposed my story.
That’s the only way I could make decisions nobody else even considered, Rare pushing me to the point of doing what was best for me, things that if said out loud would have led feminists and their males screaming at me for being such a horrible man.
I see certain “friendly” artist women as becoming psychotic because all that forcefeeding of feminism, problematicism, and other Tumblr culture did not actually lead them to being good women, but it did let them develop ENOUGH to sense that my soul has various sides, and they had no way of resolving the issue of the well-being of these sides. They learned to accept Otherkin, (including the trans puppygirls of the current time) so they could not discuss Rare being a supernatural doggish monster made from my soul. Batty said she is a cryptid, and that’s what she is. With my articles rolling out, I aim to show what life with real femininity is like, so by the example of my interactions with girls and hearing of the national mind feminism is put in its grave, and the awful world of atrociously suffering young men it created, all while feminists gloated about refusing to hear their pain, a refusal for which reckoning comes.