What do you need to be a book author? Intelligence, preparation and culture are indeed important. Even writing a basic text in an university entrance exam needs a minimum amount of references on history, philosophy, sociology.
Even if you haven't even read shit about Zygmund Bauman, memorizing that name is a good thing to remember for your end of the year dissertation. In addition to that, remember: the person who will grade your essay is probably a green haired w*man with a fresh worthless diploma, who does her job while binge watching How I met your mother. But let’s talk of real dissertations, real texts with sustainability and robustness, where each word was placed in order to have a weight on its own and at the same time tell the reader about the nature of that entire book.
Where each paragraph often needs to be reread because it contains so much previously unknown information it’s causing new connections to be formed by the dumbass’s neurons who is reading and needs to flatten the mental terrain for these ideas to settle correctly inside. Don't get me wrong, narrating this text that was written a while ago you might think I’m an avid reader, who delights himself in texts by the architects of Brazilian poetry. The immortals of the Brazilian Academy of Letters who, with their iron dongs, enter the imaginary poopyhole of their f*ggy readers’ souls.
But make no mistake, I run away from Caios de Abreu and Clarice Lispectors as the father of an art student runs away from paying child support. In reality, I have never read a single word from a book written by these two, but like Tumblr and Talmud, knowing their fanbase is enough to be hit by a mixture of disinterest and aversion. I know I should read more to be able to talk about the subject, but reading this kind of shit that doesn’t reflect or add anything to what our soul asks can pave a bad way, the way of becoming a larper, who forces himself to like something just to have something to say to his "cultured" friends in university.
People lacking any aesthetics standards, and for that reason they mistake whatever shit which conveys an aura of meekness and limp-dickness for beauty. Disorganized writing? Oh yes, it is a pattern invented by him!
Super cool interactive books telling you to paint some shapes made in Microsoft Paint? ! Now that's what I call transgression!
And so we walk towards a world made of names, where authors stand on their titles and produce any rubble for their reader - or in this case a fan And I'm not saying books made for teenagers like Felipe Neto, PC Siqueira or Kefera. Those have obvious intentions, to raise easy money from a very large and naive audience. E.
g. If 10% of a minecraft player's youtube subscribers buy his book, he will make an absurd profit. But the same happens with renowned authors such as Paulo Coelho the famous Soft Peeepee Magician.
And I suppose that is the source of a lack of real thinkers, who could translate into words the visceral feelings they have when observing what’s going on in the real world today. Thus, it is difficult to see an author speaking objectively instead of regurgitating his culture obtained in seminars and afternoons dipped in coffee and butter biscuits in an office at home. Pseudo-intellectuals are increasingly appearing in an absurd abundance at an earlier stage, as part of the “old faggots” phenomenon.
Appearing in all social backgrounds, and all ages, formed by both universities and mainstream media. Such despicable beings try only to emulate the image of ancient intellectuals instead of exposing real opinions and being harsh as they should, given the situation in which we find ourselves. Getting back to the initial question, what does it take to be a book author?
In my opinion, besides knowing how to organize words so that they make sense, having someone who buys what you write. That’s it. But if you ask me how to be an important and interesting author, then we’ll need to go deeper.
We can take a young American author for example, who just over a year ago gave up on being a potential tiktoker and published his first book, Harassment Architecture. A book that has become a phenomenon reaching the status of great titles by renowned authors, writen by someone much younger and unconcerned. Why doesn't anyone realize we are living through the mostabstract and depressing stage of human history?
There is no period in the annals of time that we can point to and say "yeah, this has enough in common to be used as reference". We are alone in this Hell we built. We are adrift now in space, the final cord binding us to the ship now snaps under the pressure.
"Apollo, do you copy. " This sorry transmission will never make it, granted our higher power has any decency. We don't deserve to be heard at all, let alone our obnoxious death rattle.
From here we can only push outward into the absurdity, and there's no shame in that. Quitting is for losers and it'd be a sin to stop deteriorating now. Godless or not we'll perish.
Whether or not sins exist, their punishments do. A world seeking a million ways to reject divinity's lure — and for what? COVER Before we take a look at the words, we look at the cover, as the cover illustrates well the main idea of the book in a minimalist and simple way.
The Bombmaker, in black. A dark figure, contrasting with the yellow of the background and red of the eyes and the sentence above, "towards a world removed of sin". The character is clearly a buffoon, a jester, although he is portrayed in a more aggressive way than the usual.
In his right hand is a bomb, lit fuse. The left hand hidden, out of the picture. In his forehead, what appears to be a Celtic cross, but I think that's just a coincidence.
. . It's important to pay attention to the cover now, because it will give us and idea about the main book's main idea, as the book itself won't explain this so easily.
The buffoon is a symbolic figure, representing a person who has reached high levels of enlightenment, and whose destiny is to be a destroyer. be it his own image, or someone else's, just 4 fun Therefore, the buffoon is one who, through his destructive actions, can purify and rid the world of garbage, mainly ideological. They are here to make people rethink, to heal by removing bad processes and functions, to purge with fire.
Just as the Hindu system has Creators, Maintainers and Destroyers - all necessary for "evolution" and "progress" buffoons also have a role to play in helping with social changes. They can be considered a bad thing by those who insist on clinging to old ideas, but the new cannot be introduced unless the old disappears. They are usually natural partners to Kings, who are creators.
Note that humor is an essential point in the function of the buffoon, who tells jokes and plays around while dissolving your belief system, who questions and destroys and at the same time protects himself from the antagonism of the society he questions, thus revealing another factor, Isolation. A good buffoon seems to be fooling around and kidding, but his satire presents important issues to be solved. Summing it up in a simple way for you, internet-addicted youngster with short attention span, "clown world" But let's not hold on to these terms regurgitated over and over by r*tards out there.
Here cosmic sin had entered, and festered by unhallowed rites had commenced the grinning march of death that was to rot us all to fungous abnormalities too hideous for the grave’s holding. ("The Horror at Red Hook" by H. P.
Lovecraft) There's something sinister about New York City that I've never felt in any other place on Earth. It goes beyond the resting heart rate of panic, and beyond the general disgust. New York City reeks of more than just hot homeless garbage piss — it reeks of guilt and fear and so much else.
It's a city that dove too deeply, too quickly into the world of technology and the idea of a melting pot, then realized how empty that future felt. New York City's native population and veteran residents are a bunch of neurotic slimy rodents, one giant gang of life's rejects. Sick and twisted faggots with nothing but venom in their bodies.
The entire city, in every single aspect, is a grift. Everything is obtained through immoral means — and not even the cool kind. J*ws having ten kids to avoid property tax, Chinamen selling knockoff designer handbags, mystery meat CEO creeps atop skyscrapers, thinking about which forest to next destroy.
What is honest work? Selling poisonous food to poisoned people? Selling useless shit to useless retards?
Selling things to people that then sell those things too? In this moment, the noblest trade is mastering the art of leisure I can't think of a smarter person than someone who figures out a way to rob the modern world blind and never work again. I can't think of a smarter person than someone who successfully leeches off government programs, with good taste of course.
The best of all trade work is aristocracy Our working class is completely dead inside; anyone who has spent a day's time around them can tell you this. This "honest work" — building dollar stores, mall temples, ratholes — it takes hostage the soul of many could-be heroes. If "honest work" was human, he'd be charged with many crimes, one of which against nature.
God sits above and mourns the construction of yet another strip mall. It's true, I've seen and felt him do so. God to me sometimes feels like a close and personal friend, and he looks constantly disappointed, even in me All this "honest work" kills beauty in man too.
It forces men into poor diet, poor choices, poor paths outside the workplace. Everything in life for them, whether they chose so or not, must revolve around their "honest work". No time to research, pick, and cook a proper meal so I have chips and soda again.
No time to work out, to worship the sun in peace, [. . .
] No time to even so much as consider another way of life so I hammer nails into useless thing for useless people in useless place again. You are being scammed, robbed. It's a sin to drown yourself in work forever, unless of course that work produces things of greatness.
Chances are that's not the case. THE AUTHOR Mike Ma, who could easily have been baptized as Chad, is an author and writer who has worked on alternative news websites where he began cultivating both his audience and haters. He demonstrates a chaotic and rowdy attitude of an American who seems to have come out of a high school movie from the time when bullies with sports jackets beat the nerds and went out with the girls in their convertibles.
The perfect retelling for the 2020s, where being called a “forbidden” word is portrayed as something worse than having your face kicked in a bathroom stall. Now, we see a phenomenon where the cool kids are the weakest, with the weakest opinions and a pitiful lack of self-respect, and the profile of young people who are the most detached from society are those with intelligence, willpower and balls to accept frailty is not the answer to an increasingly hostile world. Don't mistake what I'm talking about with the shut-in nerd who has no option but to look for excuses for his low stamina and high abdominal fat.
I am referring to the fact that more and more young men who could be promptly accepted into normal social groups reject this option and live a path similar to that of the nerd, but consciously, whether due to frustrations with family partners with a high body count, unfulfilling careers or the mere search for something bigger than the standard routine of the average industrial society citizen. Having your eyes wide open all the time is tiresome and makes them exchange the unconscious nihilism that has been plaguing us for some time for something similar to what was done by men from other eras, when Man was Man and the Earth was Earth. And it’s no coincidence Mike Ma captivates that exact kind of people His book does not seem to have a central theme, it lacks coherence in some parts and even a well-defined structure that follows the book from beginning to end But unlike post-post-post-modern authors asspulling excuses to justify their lack of content and arbitrary disorder, Mike never tries to pretend he is better than what we see.
He even explains this at the beginning, like taking a step closer to his reader, showing he is aware of the of who will receive the oncoming message. I see this as a dirty note from a vocalist who shares his voice with his guitar while shouting messages of pain into a microphone in front of him. The intensity of his voice and the words that come out of his mouth are more important than a flawless technique or the crystalline sound of virtuous instrumentalists who have nothing to say.
The people of now are what can only be called creatures or demons. These people are not people. Some will say their look is normal, that it's the result of a lifelong lived, of the regular burdens — they are wrong.
Normal burdens and days of honest work do not make people into what you'll find walking around here. "Here" is everywhere, but primarily [youtube wants to know your location] Women never get home gyms because then nobody would give them the attention they want. The rare few who do build home gyms will proceed to upload squat videos to Instagram.
If you can imagine it, they will always squat in the tightest pants they own — never a slightly loose pair of sweatpants, never a burka. I see God in raw meat. I see God in rare meat.
I see God when I bathe in the sun. I see God in low blood sugar. I see God in pine trees.
I see God in most all trees. I see God in a few good men. I see God when I breathe the right way.
I see God when I stand up straight. I see God during fasts. I saw God and he told me to burn it all down.
I see demons in the artificial. I see demons in alcohol. I see demons in fluorescent lights.
I see demons in doctors, scientists, dealers of data. I see demons in agriculture. I see demons in cars.
I see demons in activism. I see demons in most women. I see God in raw meat.
. . A MAN OF OUR TIME Mike was born in 1995, being 25 years old when this video was made, and being that young is one of the main points that set the tone for his book.
Imagine buying a book from a Chico Buarque for example. Despite all his intelligence and vast knowledge obtained over the years by drinking wines in yurop, and although I have never read a single word written by him, I could put my life on the line and say NOTHING taken from his books will portray the spiritual famine experienced by the current generation. I refer to the generation that still has many years to suffer through and many taxes which will never return as a service.
The generation who will serve the army and eventually give their blood for people who would rather see them dead. The generation that dies from cancers forged by the hand of man. Instead, thinkers from other eras like Chico Buarque have only a romanticization from other times to offer, a romanticization that is without beauty, without aggression, without vitality.
You know what is the brazilian's problem? Thinking being limp-dicked means being brazilian. You gotta be kinda meek, you gotta be.
. . And then we're the most violent people in the world and they sing "she's carioca.
. . " Fuck, for God's sake.
. . Notice the rampant harmlessness in Chico Buarque.
In the 60s he wouldn't kill a single fly There was absolute no subversion in what he made because he had a. . .
he was Brazil's little valentine Why is it trivial? Because it's easy listening, no matter the flourishes. .
. On the other hand, it is common for authors to write material intended to shock, bringing an exaggeration to draw easy attention, the kind of cheap attention that a recently ran over motorcycle courier calls to him. This type of content has attracted more and more young people, who display their weaknesses and disorders as a trophy.
Today, finding an author who displays lucidity like Mike Ma is difficult, but maybe that's me whining for something that has always been and always will be. I power stride into my local gym with a pain in my heart on what I believe to be a Sunday morning. The fat asshole that usually occupies the stair machine is currently occupying the stair machine.
He's been doing this every Sunday for the past six months and he's lost exactly zero visible pounds. He's probably eating worse than he used to. In a failing effort to be kinder towards both the world and the people living in it, I don't slide tackle him in the shins when he finally steps down.
Mentally though, I've broken both of his ankles with the sheer force of a well-timed ground attack. Here; in this rift of reality, his ankles are fine. As fine as they can be under nearly three-hundred pounds of fat.
I'm at the smoothie bar now, ordering something I'd never usually get. I instruct the woman behind the counter to make sure nothing with soy comes anywhere near my drink. Soy decreases testosterone, kills your libido, and reverses gut health.
She nods in a way that seems patronizing. For this,she'll finish her shift, walk to her car [. .
. ] and find that the interior of her twenty-fourteen Ford Focus has been coated in three-week-old animal blood. [.
. . ] "That'll be eleven twenty-eight, debit or credit?
" My paying twelve dollars for a fucking smoothie warrants my not answering her pointless question. I lay a twenty on the counter and call her the fateful "n-word", at a very loud volume. Front desk guy hears this, calls over the regional manager.
That was the day I looked into building a killer home gym. And build a killer home gym I soon did. No man should ever have to conform to the standards of some Planet Fitness or otherwise.
Our space is ours. Screaming makes you lift more. The science to prove this is there, if you feel like investigating.
"When you are with women, you are alone. When you are with homosexuals, you are alone. When you are with men far outside your socioeconomic class, you are alone.
You will, for the majority of your life, be alone," a friend tells me. Some people are lucky enough to find like-minded men of similar status. Those are the men that you stand by for life.
THE CONTENT My first contact with this book came with [that guy there] sending me a text excerpt about what it means to be romantic where the author defines romanticism as, among other variations, to hunt nearby Grindr users and gently hit them with a phone book or a sock filled with coins, or find a shootout victim and stick your finger deep in the wound and paint his face with his own blood before the paramedics arrive. Overwhelmed with joy and not knowing where that text, which was both edgy and fun and fresh, came from, I asked him what it was about and where he got it. As I read more and more texts from that, I decided to stop and not to read everything at once, whereas buying a physical copy of it was inevitable.
And that is something I strongly recommend if you have spare money. The experience of flipping through the book to random points nd reading what lies ahead is impossible to reproduce on a digital copy. As I said, the book does not have a structure of stories linked to others, but despite that, all the texts there have something in common, which is a reflection of the chaotic personality of the author.
Personally I find it a bit exaggerated at certain times, but not to the point of causing cringe like [internet personality]. This is due to a non-apologetic language that brings us current political themes without the fagg*try of the usual political spectrums. It makes no sense to choose any political side before resolving emergency issues.
Wasting time discussing rights about sexual choice, color and religion are nothing more than distractions against real problems with roots that are thicker and older than all of that. Our planet is corrupted, to the point that simply living in this age translates into a sinful act and being doomed to a painful end. God, being intangible, becomes increasingly blind (oh no he isn’t) because he cannot see the real world, covered with concrete, glass, iron and plastic trees.
Today's society is becoming more and more unsustainable, BURP due to an industrial way of life that heightens the pressure at every passing second. Even if it takes time, the collapse is inevitable, but for now, the less fortunate are gathering under bridges and in slums whilst complaining the government does not provide assistance to their fifteen children who live in the same house with no basic sanitation. Anyway, nature finds its way to achieve homeostasis.
With the ability of human beings to adapt to suffer until their death, it will probably take generations upon generations for this to happen. What we don't know is how long these generations will postpone the unavoidable. This is where the “ideology” adopted by the author comes in.
The main thinking is a strange child of the accelerationist theory (albeit in a superficial form) and Ted K. 's revolutionary and anti-reformist thinking. Regardless of form, Mike Ma calls for action, for masculinity, for movement, for beauty.
He calls for the purification in flames of a lost world, whether these flames are the result of the collapse caused by the unpredictable social changes accelerated by a world drowned in technology, or by the chaos of a movement brought in the near future by those who are tired and angry. The whole book could be summed up in the idea that the world was beaten up little by little and supported on weak legs, at the same time that it has to bear an almost unsustainable weight for its capacity. The solution would be to put more weight on its back or just kick your legs.
Why leave for tomorrow what can be done now? Accelerating this process of destruction could be the right answer so that it could be rebuilt by the right hands who could avoid making same mistakes of the past. Free from cubicles illuminated by white tubular lights, free from the anti-beauty influencing the subconscious of the crowds, opposing the urban world towards its decay, dazzled by its ignorant progressive arrogance.
So in short, yes, the book definitely has a political tone but only because it fits the classic definition of what politics is. If you expect jargon repeated by analysts who get lost in the false authority they have for holding a college degree in journalism and start talking crap, you won’t find it in this book. Mike criticizes our way of living in an aggressive, humorous, chaotic and unstructured way.
The texts are usually not extensive and this is good for both slow readers and the ones who likes to read everything in one sitting Besides being entertaining, it provides the reader with good sparks that can open up your head to think more about these profound themes. 'We're here because we understand that today is unsustainable and cruel, that tomorrow will only be worse, unless somebody takes action. We are the somebodies.
You may look around and wonder if maybe we're a bit short-staffed. Maybe you think this isn't enough people to bring the world to its knees. I'd say you're wrong.
I'd say you don't believe enough in the Butterfly Effect, in man's desire to be free, in how much he's excited by chaos. Even the people who sit at desks every day are intoxicated by things like the power going out, by storms tearing up the streets, by those emergency test alarms on television. We all want to watch things shatter, but only a handful are willing to kick it off.
Today, we swear it to ourselves that tomorrow should be wounded. Even just a little bit. If every day you take your heartiest swing at the world, you've done your job.
Some of us will go for its ankles, its knees, or its stomach. Some of us will go straight for the eyes, the neck, or the heart. Either way, it's all more than anyone else will ever do.
It's today that you have accepted that you, yourself, are an engine of chaos, an accelerationist. You architect harassment. A "DUMPSTER INC.
" PRODUCTION Good night, see you tomorrow.
