The Fowler - fiction framing

Those who worship The Devil are divided into several categories with the sole motivation of bringing the weak to a self-destructive end.  'The Fowler' is a specialty class.  They are not openly Devil worshipers but are those who are exposed to possession of the more subtle demonic classes.  The possession usually happens at a very early age.

There is no head spinning or floating around the room speaking in tongues like in a movie.  They are possessed, though, so you will notice that they will erupt in negativity often enough that it is unsettling.  

In these people, you will find the scared and lonely children.  For those who have suffered, it is hard not to be heartfelt and empathetic to them.  That is the snare.

Fowlers never do well with balanced individuals.  First they sense that something is off.  Next is exposure to an eruption of negativity.  This is usually where the balanced individual goes "OoooKayyy" and breaks things off later from a safe distance.  Either that or they just use them for sex making absolutely fricking sure they do not have a baby with them.  The sex is generally pretty bad because they are just not present while it is happening.

A Fowler will come into your life and create a co dependence and pull their weight in areas of your life where you are weak.  They will undermine your vitality, independence and self confidence.  

As they create a sense of indispensability for the relationship, they will move to demand more of the things that, to give, will be a slap in the face of your past self and life lessons leaving you a hollow shell of a human being.  Yet you feel that you have no choice.  

When you are sitting in Emergency at the hospital waiting for your partner to be done with the prostitute they are openly seeing on a regular basis so that they can come over to pick you up but they might not because all this health stuff you have going on with you is "Very hard on them" then you realize the one thing you need that they can not truly give is emotional support.  That is when it is time to make a choice: Live or Die.     

If 'Live', you have to get out into the world again.  You have to manage those things that you haven't managed well in the past.  You have to kill the co dependence.  The worst thing you could be thinking is that you don't have a choice and have to stay with them.  You will be emotionally lying to them on a regular basis.  You will be hating yourself for it.  You will be propping up the relationship as a way of lying to yourself.  Don't bother taking your troubles to a marriage counselor.  The Fowler is a skilled covert narcissist and will not deal openly and truthfully to any counselor.  They will attempt to win over any mediation with lies and bullshit.  If they don't get their way, they will shut down or storm out.  If you argue with them directly, they use their knowledge of you to manipulate the conversation to being dropped.   Despite the obvious lack of regard for the truth, the Fowler will often come into your life claiming it to be one of their highest ideals.  

 They will start treating you more and more like an object as their tendrils encroach themselves into your life.  The charm that your partner used to show you is only on display for other people.  You will be a self-made mockery of some sitcom couple around other people.  The Fowler will relish this as they know the contrast between that and who you really are only fucks with you.  The Fowler will only treat you as well as it needs to in private.  They will read material AT you that you didn't even request or show interest in.  The lock is "The relationship is essential".  The more you believe that...the more they will abuse you.  

Essentially the Fowler is an Adult-Child wrapped in evil.  They encroach themselves into every aspect of your life first undermining your independence by attacking what you feel weakest about.  When they've established a powerful co dependence, they start killing your very essence.  They will make you re-live past trauma and damn you even further by doing so with your "Blessing".  

...and she is also a Republican.  Sweet Dreams, children!



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Huniepop Game Review - It's just deep enough to be disturbing

I haven't played many Japanese anime type games.  I figured that before I kick off, I should give at least one a try.  To be clear, Huniepop is an 'Adult' game in that it shows sexy pictures of anime women comprising (at its worst) of boobs and panty shots.  There is an endless Candycrushesque game that is meant to represent sex.  There is a turn based version that is meant to represent dating.  

You get to know the women by asking them about themselves.  They also tend to ask you more questions about your opinion on certain things.  If you answer the right way, you gain points with them.  There are 10 in the regular game and 2 (an alien and a mental patient who thinks she is a cat) that you unlock by certain actions.  Each woman seems complete in several ways.  

You are introduced to this world and given the rundown of the various women by a small white anime fairy who thinks she is a black man. 

Because nothing is more sexy than a small white girl acting like a large black man.  No wonder millennials struggle so much with sexual identity; they don't come out of the closet, they just rearrange what's in there.  

Seems interactive so far, right?  Well here's where things get creepy.  

You tell every woman exactly what she wants to hear...regardless of whether you really believe it or not.  That's pretty sociopathic but wait...there's more.  There is one girl who is either a cat who looks very much like a human or a mental patient who thinks she is a cat.  My money is on the latter.  Either way, you are having sex with either a cat or an escaped mental patient who think she is a cat...That's pretty sick.  There was a controversy in online linear society that suggested that she was also under age.  She says she is one year old because 'That is 18 in cat years'.   Really?  Innocuous data gets you heated and not the fact that you are trying to screw a delusional mental patient!?
  
So, the two things we can come away from this about who your character actually is (not what he says to the women in the game) that he is a lying sack of shit with low moral character.   

After your first conquest, the fairy is so impressed with your creepy ability to scheme women into having sex with you that she wants to be a part of that as well.  Apparently, this racial appropriating pixie also has no self-esteem.  When you are done treating the original women like penis meat, The Love Goddess, Venus is "So Impressed" with "your skill" that she "Wants to give you a try".  Seriously.  How does any guy in Japan ever get laid at all if any of this is even remotely close to their logic!?

The thing is:  There really is a way to manipulating women into having sex with you.  It is a pattern of psychological manipulation and the only people who ever use it intentionally are human garbage.   

Here's the surprising thing, and what I believe is fucked up with the collective perspective in the world:

In a world where just about anyone can buy a game where you can make heads explode, set people on fire, torture and/or maim them,  we consider showing boobs and panties to be "Adult Only".  Guess what?  We all came from a pussy and sucked on tits right after.  There is nothing inherently evil about genitals and sexuality.

That being said, I would keep this game as 'Adult' as it contains the underlying idea that being deceptive and of questionable moral character is 'rewarding'.  That's a very nefarious ideal to implant on the impressionable.  

Great Stupid American Moments in History - The M4 Sherman "Tommy Cooker"

Though considered equal as a tank early in WW2,  The M4 was retained by the pig-headedness of General Patton.  He wanted to "Out Blitz" the German Blitzkrieg maneuver by keeping a tank that had WAY less armor and a WAY smaller gun than the new arrival German counterparts (The Tiger and The Panther). 

To be clear:  The M4 was okay early in the war because of the winning formula of half decent armor combined with a light and fast airplane engine (That used EXTREMELY volatile Fuel) meant that the Sherman could get around with only dead crews complaining how much that completely sucked!

As early as '42, The first Tigers rolled out and it was a bitch.  The tank crews in the dated M4 didn't enjoy cruising around the countryside in what amounted to, essentially, a rolling cremation machine.  Somewhere along the line they got the name "Ronson"("Lights up every time) and "Tommy Cookers" from the Jerries. 

Into Europe, The Allies needed a tank capable of fighting against the Tiger and Panther, which, would likely be fortified in entrenched positions.  The US had a design for such a tank but it would require a little bit of time for factories to retool as well as logistics. 

Patton, being the thick headed "Decisive" prick that he was said "Fuck it.  We use what we came with and build more to preserve impetus".  He wasn't the one cooking in a tank as the allies lost 5 tanks to one German tank. 

Meanwhile the out-of-touch war department starts asking the question "Why are we losing so many tanks?" 

Patton didn't want to report these losses because it would have undermined the tunnel vision of his strategy. 

The thing is:  The Allies wouldn't have needed any more than 1 in 5 super heavy tanks.  Enough armor for them to defeat the long 75 on the Panther at over 600 yards.  It doesn't even have to be a direct fire gun.  Maybe a mobile MASSIVE howitzer with armor using indirect fire.  Instead you relegate tank crews to die in the worst way possible.  You could still use most of the Sherman tanks to flush out enemy tanks and secure towns with infantry.  Since the air war had been dominated by the allies, there was no good reason not to use close combat support aircraft to stomp the fuck out of Panthers and Tigers since they didn't usually come equipped with even a turret mounted MG.  There is no good reason not to have tanks bristling with smoke launchers.  The best way not to be shot is not to be seen. 

Patton knew about Blitzkrieg tactics with combined arms strategy but he didn't have the versatility of mind to adapt it and use it effectively.  The meat head's only thought was "The enemy is off balance keep pushing forward"...Typical American "If giving it a little gas is good, flooring it is so much better".  So, instead of strategic consideration to an enemy hard point,  The tank crews were ordered to charge them in their tin foil coffins loaded up with fuel and explosives.  All that because "Old Blood and Guts" said if you didn't, you were a coward who deserved to be shot.  Although it wasn't Patton being shot.  It's fine to be brave it it isn't you who is doing the dying. 

It is not an easy path being a commanding officer.  You need a bundle of academic intelligence to be sure.  Logistics requires consideration of the data.  Yet, you can't just have linear thinking.  You have to have lateral thinking as well.  To this day, the latter is the less valuable skill.

Immediately after the war, Patton died in a car crash.  I'd like to think that karma is a bitch like that.  Maybe his essence will have joined those who suffered horrible deaths.  Maybe his spirit will have gained wisdom his corporeal body could not. 
 

 

I was Hating on someone...Then I Thought about the Metaphor

Two friends back in Cadets way back in the day.  We were Summer employed NCO's along with a bunch of others.  I trusted this guy with my life.  Anyway he gave me advice that pissed off an entire group of people.  They got together and told this large Reg. Force Private that I called his (one of my fellow employed NCO's) girlfriend a 'Slut'.  I'm pretty sure I didn't.  He beat me up and I was discharged and sent home on a bus. 

This... guy.  Who I thought was my friend took my trust and fucked me with it. 

Heather, the name of the 'Girlfriend', was less than 18.  She was a leadership cadet and didn't like the idea of former rifle cadets getting Summer NCO jobs even for a rifle course.  She especially took a disliking to me from the beginning.  She was making "Observations" about every little thing I was doing and ratting me out to the 'Commandant'.  The Commandant was a fat, useless piece of shit who's name I forgot.  The Canadian Forces in their infinite stupidity, gave this guy the title of "Commander of Western Canadian Cadets" Or some fucking thing.  I wouldn't have trusted him with half a sack of pissed-in bag wine.  He was clearly out to throw his fat ass of power around for kicks.  I wouldn't let this clown near a playground and the fucking idiots in charge said "Hey...you're a clown...go look after the children!"

But I digress.

He would give me shit on a daily basis for kicks.  He would tell me not to talk back to him when I tried to explain myself.  I know he was just taking the piss when he yelled at me about helping load a truck one day and yelled at me again not helping the next.

I had been a solid cadet to that point.  Always willing to "Go over the Rail" (rappel) even though I was afraid of heights.  I taught classes.  I won an award every year.  I was one of the top 10 marksmen in this country.  My uniform was excellent.  I didn't rise in rank much because I didn't go the Leadership route. 

I stopped giving a shit about cadets after that point.  I missed parade and then again the following week at my home armory.  They called me and asked me what was going on.  I told them I was done.  They said "You aren't done until you turn in your uniform".  I turned in my uniform and quietly walked away. 

The following year, I grew my hair long. 


When you see people like "Trump" at the head of the most powerful country in the world how do you grab a rifle and shoot at someone with it?  How do you justify murder on the orders of an idiot?  I've experienced a chain of command where I wanted to shove my rifle so far up my commanders ass that it comes out his mouth and roast him on a spit like the fat stupid pig he was. 

Would I listen to him to shoot someone?  There are people who, for the common good, should be killed.  I'm not talking about the poor and the weak.  I'm talking about pure shitheads like Gordon Campbell. 

Instead of giving this asshole a bullet, The Queen gives him two fucking medals. 

This is where I'm at:  My expectations have adjusted to the point where I see people as sheep and the herders are children.  The Queen is just a little girl caught in a fairy tale. 

Obedience? 

When you carry a rifle into combat, you are carrying a shovel to a shit show of the worst job in the world.  The glory is the cause.  If the cause is right, sure.  How many wars have been truly 'Right'. 
WW1 was started because someone was assassinated and every country was waving their arsenal penises in the air.  WW2 happened because of unresolved issues of WW1.  Korea was a good cause.  Communist China was being a dick.  The commander-in-chief of allied forces was an absolute inept cunt by the name of Douglas MacArthur .  It was a good cause then "Dug out Doug" Blitzkrieged his way to the Chinese border right up the middle...while on both sides he was flanked by Chinese troops and cut off.  It didn't endanger Doug though.  He fucked his troops and fucked off out of there like he did in the Philippines. 

Obedience.

I Question it.  My former friend?  He revels in it.  There are photos online of his efforts to preserve the integration of it in our youth. 

I would never have been a good soldier.  I take pride in that.

Worst Lyrics EVER! Tomorrow by Silverchair

I was in Vegas attending a few concerts.  I discovered a Silverchair song on the down time on YouTube.  I instantly loved the song.  It was extremely well made Alternative Rock.  Then I made the mistake of looking up the lyrics for this song: Tomorrow.  

Sometime lyrics can add an incredible dimension to music.  Anyone who is able to make music this good should have lyrics to match, right? 

That’s what I thought.  Just like good lyrics can add a dimension and make a good song even better, bad lyrics will undermine the song to the point of pointlessness…coupled with the betrayal of false passions regarding bathrooms and sinks…and you have this song.  This song isn’t just slightly reduced by shoddy lyrics,  it is completely castrated by it.

 “It’s 12 O’clock and it’s a wonderful day”

Yeah?  So?

“I know you hate me but I'll ask anyway 
Won't you come with me to a place in a little town 
The only way to get there's to go straight down”

Why would I hate you for asking for me to go with you to a place in a little town?  What is this place?  Denny’s?  Why is the town “Little”?   What does that have to do with anything?  Are you talking in metaphors?  Sexual innuendo?  Is this a wordy way of saying you want me to go down on you!?  Is the “Going Down” part of a lowering of one’s standards…if so, why does it have to be in a “Little Town”?  Couldn’t it be in a suburb or a big city…maybe even another planet under some dome…or maybe.  MAYBE where the “Place is located” is irrelevant to the metaphor!

“There’s no bathroom and there is no sink” 

Why not talk about the correct drywall?  Are they using PVC or Copper for the plumbing!?  So you can’t take a shit, and even if you could, you wouldn’t be able to wash your hands in the sink.  

Maybe Silverchair should have a verse advising the listener to use the facilities ahead of time…or maybe wear Depends?  The “Place” doesn’t have a bathroom or sink but does it have adult diapers?

“The water out of the tap is very hard to drink (Passionately repeated a second time)”  

Because we’re down in this “place” and I’ve gone to the bathroom but NOW I’M THIRSTY!  I’M THIRSTY!!!  Why is the water hard to drink?  Do you have to suck it out of the “Tap”?  WAIT!  Is that a sexual metaphor!?  Or is the actual drinking of it “Hard” because it tastes awful?  So far I’m not loving the idea of “Going to this place in a little town”. 

“You, wait til tomorrow” (repeated)

For what?  Going to some shitty place with no bathroom or sink that you’re asking me to come with you to?  What am I waiting for!?  This makes NO SENSE!

“You say that money isn’t everything but I’d like to see you live without it”. 

It’s not that money is nothing…it’s just not “everything”.  And “You’d like to see me live without it”!?  Well!  You can go to your shitty place with no bathroom or sink by YOURSELF!

“You Think you can keep on going living like a king.  Oohh babe, but I strongly doubt it”  

Yes!  I have a Throne AND  a sink!  Why are you calling me “Babe” since a “King” is always a guy and you are a guy singing this.   I don’t think you are gay…I am pretty damn sure I’m not. 

“Very hard to drink” (Repeated passionately) .   You tell me water isn’t everything but I’d like to see you live without it!  Stop sucking on the taps!  Your “Little Place” sucks!  Go get your deposit back!

“You gonna wait too, fat boy.  Fat boy, wait til tomorrow.” 

I originally thought this said “You’re going ‘away’ too, fat boy”.  I was like Yeah!  Can’t take it with you no matter how much you “Fat Cats” hoard at the expense of everyone else!

Nope.

“You gonna wait too, fat boy”  because, come tomorrow?  You’re going to have to wait some more!  But wait!  There’s more!  The “Tomorrow” after that?  You’re going to wait again!  Just wait for that!  Can’t you wait?  Too bad, fat boy! You just wait til tomorrow because then you're going to have to wait to wait some more!

Summary  This song confounds me because the lyrics are so terrible but the music is excellent!  Now that I know the lyrics, I can't un-ring that bell.  The members who wrote these face-palm-worthy lyrics were only like 13 at the time.  Not surprisingly,  these are exactly the type of lyrics a 13 year old would write.  I think the surprising part is that they were worthy musicians capable of creating a brilliant musical piece at that age...which I think to be the much greater talent than throwing words together that make sense.