Something from Eric on The Forum:

I want to take on this insecurities crap from a purely logical, rational perspective. So let's begin:

Quote:
Originally Posted by Texas_Wanderlust
Now my issues (both with women & in general) where I feel I'm not "good enough" or whatever are more of an insurgency who show up every now & then cause some drama (usually not much) then head off for the hills to come back another day.
I know what you mean when you say that you feel you're not good enough, I've been there done that. I finally figured out where it came from though. It's all in the mental model that you're using to face the world. When you think that you're not good enough, it implies some kind of comparative scale. It also implies that the mental model you're using (and I"m assuming the feeling is related to women) has to do with social status. In fact, high school in America is nothing but a desperate exercise in increasing your social standing. Many of us never quite graduate from that system.

It works kinda like this: You see a really cute girl. Mentally you measure your social standing versus her beauty and what that beauty can get her in terms of social status. You compare yourself either to an unknown entity, a faceless dude who is better looking, taller, more muscular or to a better version of yourself that doesn't yet exist, and guess what, you feel inadequate. In this case the ego decides that it's not worth the risk of getting hurt and pulls you away from her. If you try to force yourself, your body will enter the "danger" mode.

Another assumption built into this model is the assumption that you need to feel "good enough" in order to get a certain woman. This is the reason why so many guys feel at ease with girls "below" their standard or "on the same level as them." There's even more crap built into this one, like the idea that you need a woman to begin with. I mean think about it. What would be considered good enough? More money? Better car? A big house? Better looks?

The first step in defeating this mindset is becoming aware of it and how pervasive it is. Find out how deep the rabbit hole goes then come back here for a better one.

Personal Ad Writing Practice

Natalicious Age: 69 Appearance: Caucasian, with blackish hair (best described as lighter than a black crayon but darker than Chewbacca), muscular yet shapely, an ass that begs to be smacked, big chesticles, and brown/black/yellow/amber/tofu/cheese colored eyes, with the lightest amount of arm hair.

Interests: Seducing men who don't have a clue, watching Keith Ledger movies that subconsciously instill unrealistic expectations of how a relationship should unfold (i.e. Ten Things I Hate About You, Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist, and Pokemon The First Movie: Mewtwo Strikes Back), Asian stuff, wanking to pictures of Daniel Radcliff in Equus, hanging out with some creepers named "Chi Chi" and "Jen Jen", givng Donal rides, being a relationship therepist, being loud, being topless, and Cheetos.

Seeking: A young man/boy who must be able to fulfill her needs as a Size Queen. He must be no less than 14 inches long, and no less than the width of a Redbull can (please refer to the picture on the left). The younger the better, and the ideal mate must have a 1.5% body fat level or less. No body hair or pubes, please. Skin like diamonds preferred. Looking for a man who can keep up with her overly energetic party mentality ( Think running around screaming in excitement over every person who walks through the door at one of her orgies, like some twitchy, batshit crazy hooligan).

On a first date: No going to coffee because that's not a date, it's just "getting to know somebody". None of that bullhonkey for her, it's too public. She prefers to become aquainted in the comfort and privacy of her bedroom.

Evolving as a Man: My Mea Culpa

So, recently I joined a forum that helps men become better with women. During a post, I proclaimed my intention to use a very controversial technique, and I also showed very little regard for the feelings and safety of someone very dear to me. After a solid scolding from a man I now greatly respect, I evolved and matured significantly. Here's what I wrote as my final response to what he said:


CrazyCloud:

I don't even know where to start. I read everything you wrote. As punishment. I tried to think of a time when I was more ashamed of myself.. and I failed. I literally felt sick as you revealed to me, using my own words in part, the true nature that is my disgustingly manipulative plot that I had constructed out my own filthy and selfish desires. It was one of the most unhealthy things I have ever written. I am feeling genuinely and thoughly guilty, and furthermore, I completely and totally failed to consider her feelings. Ironically, though I love her, you were the one to show compassion for her when it should have been me. I've failed myself and her, and I deeply and thoughly regret it.

Putting it lightly, it's obvious that most of your animosity stems from the fact that I was willing to use The October Man. I do confess that I have used it in the past. However, I never got much out of it. Maybe a make out session or two at most. Because I never got much out of it, I assumed that it's potency was greatly exaggerated. Sure, it gives all these warnings and whatnot in the guide, but I just thought that was mere hype by the creator. And yeah, I had heard stories about people using it, but could never find much evidence that would allow me to truly believe that it was really producing 15 minute lays and obsessed stalkers. However, judging by the very blatantly raw passion that you have demonstrated regarding the subject, there is truth to the claims, and you may have personally been a witness to the negative effects that The October Man can have on people. But it's not only about the effects that it causes, it also about the manipulative philosophy behind it. It is, as you said, the very anithesis of what is being taught here. Indeed, it would seem that the manipulative nature of the PUA community still hasn't released it's insisting vice on my mentality. One of the resons why I chose to convert to this style of seduction was because I could see how manipulative most of the techniques and mindsets of the PUA community were, and yet in my stupidity I failed to drop the most manipulative technique of them all. If I am at all going to be true to the mindset of this area of seduction, I must rid myself completely of things like NLP. If I truly was good with women, there would be no need for such things anyway. I understand that now, and I will discontinue the use of The October Man Sequence.

Crazy Cloud, though you had good reason to do so, you have misunderstood me. Though I won't deny my motives were selfish, this girl was never and is still not about getting a lay. Where I am, there are many attractive women who are much more sexually attractive. If it was about the lay, I would choose one of them. It seems that you felt that I lacked any kind of sympathy for "Midori". You had good reason for this, because of the cold way I was attempting to calculate the seduction. However, you may argue this point, but the truth is that I deeply love her. Say what you will, present any contrary evidence that you will, but that is the truth. I did not and will not explain my feelings for her, for to do so on something as small and insignificant as an internet forum would be to bastardize and cheapen those feelings. Those feeling are for her and I alone to know.

Make no mistake, I will seduce this girl. However, I will do it with no agenda, no expectations, no apologies, NO manipulation, an honest heart, and a smile. In other words, I'm going to do it right. And I know for a FACT that she'll love it.

Crazy Cloud, I can really tell that the mantras of this forum and community are more than just a few pesonal rules to which you try to adhere. You really believe them, but even more so, you live them. Your words and passion really gave me a jolt, and thanks to you I really believe that you gave me a real mental head start here and changed me for the better. You have both my highest and deepest respects.

A Love Poem

Inspiration rarely comes to me in the form of dreams, but this particular dream was so vivid and clear that I could feel as well as see all the events. This poem is actually more literal than metaphorical. Indeed, what I wrote here actually occurred in my dream. And yes, the person in the dream with me was a person I know and care about more deeply than previously thought. I wrote this as soon as I woke up from the dream, so you can imagine that the intense emotions from the dream were still very fresh as I wrote it. Have fun.


It became apparent to me last night
as our skin touched
as our souls meshed together
that you are my greatest
and my truest desire.
But you can never know.

My resting mind was the perfect parchment
and my heart the finest pen.
With these graceful tools
My subconscious
the omniscience to which I am mostly oblivious
wrote a stunning tale of void-burst passion.

How unexpected it was
to find myself suddenly lying with you
in the most sensuous black satin sand
How comfortably warm it was
in that perfectly still, black tropical night.
We were alone.
Totally alone.
Perfectly alone.
Indeed, not even the stars were watching us.
We told them not to.
We could make them do that.
Because it was OUR paradise.

You were made of silk.
You were so smooth to the touch.
My hand explored your body in all its bareness.
Slowly drifting.
A rowboat across a still lake at dawn.
No, it wasn't perfect.
But nor was mine.
No one is perfect.
Being perfect is overrated.
I don't love perfect.
I love you.
It wasn't enough to simply touch.
I pulled you closer.
You couldn't be close enough.
Sex wasn't good enough for us.
No.
We had an intercourse of souls.
The static in the bottom of our hearts
locked us together in a vice of complementary polarities.
Bound boundlessly.
Incarcerated infinitely.
To each other
and within each other.

Finally, I noticed the finest, warmest glow.
It had been on us the entire time.
The only source of light on our Micronesian heaven.
An aura of the darkest dusk-spawned orange.
The stars don't shine that way.
Besides, we told them not to look.
The moon, too.
We had not built a fire.
Indeed, the tropical air and our passion kept us warm enough.
As I took one last look into your rich, dark brown eyes
I realized.

It was us.

Two Dreams

For some reason ( I still don't have a clue as to why) I moved to a town roughly half the size of north bend that had a 2A school in it. It was a normal town in every way except for the fact that it was in a heavily forested area. I was walking around inside a small ma and pa store, watching people walk by when I heard the rumor. The rumor was that Bruce Lee was still alive and had secretly been training in the outskirts of the town. I set off in search of him. Indeed, soon enough I find him. He challenges me to a Jeet Kune Do battle. We engage and the battle is pretty much even untill he declares: "Now you will suffer the wrath of my new technique!" As I throw another punch he grabs my wrist and stretches my arm like silly putty all the way to the ground and stomps on my knuckles. Instead of being in extreme pain, I become really annoyed and I perform some sort of move (the dream is hazy when I do the move) that knocks us both down and exausts us completely. As we lay side-by-side, I ask him: "will you make me your student" I look into his face. his eyes turn a little pink and fuse into one eye, and he started crying. I'm unsure if he answered my question.



I was at the mall parking lot with the whole '07 class. We were all drafted into the war with the Iraqis. Everyone was excted to go fight (I didn't actually see their faces but it was just one of those scenarios where you are absolutely certain anyway. I distinctly remember Billy Olds in that dream, however). I absolutely refused to go. the truck leaves. Finally, I decide to go anyway. We are shipped off to a forest in the moutains and we are posted at this small, arching wooden bridge. This bridge has been placed over an enemy trench. on the left side of the trench is a small green and wooden shack about the size of a porta-potty (this is where I am. I don't have any weapons. My kingdom for a chainsaw!). we are informed that if we lose this position, we lose the war. Just then, the Iraqis, dressed in black and white cammoflauge and armed with AK-47's, charge out into the clearing and massacred us. The End.

Emo Poetry

I got depressed and wrote this shit about 8 months ago. It has a lot to do with sexual frustration and deep feelings of inadequacy stemming from my days at high school, and frustration with the lack of equality in society and the arrogance of people who feel they better than others because they (or their parents) are wealthy or because they are accomplished at sports or something else. This is directed mosly at a person from my past for whom I have much animosity. Enjoy, I guess.




When I feel this way, I get the urge to create.
I wish I could make something out of this cold, black stone of near-metal.
Black as the the void it drifts through.
You can't fly with onyx-spun wings.
A craggy chunk of void-rock carved, no, broken from a starry night.
But the fragment doesn't even sparkle anymore.
The stars were wiped from it.
The West and The East saw to that.

How spoiled you are, my brothers and sisters.
You live so close, yet you don't know my black rock.
The nightmare rock.
It isn't dragged behind me.
And I don't carry it on my back.
It's tethered in my chest.
Around my heart, pulling down on my arteries.
But they say everyone has their cross to bear.
But I don't see your cross!
I see your new car...
But I don't see your cross!
I see your high-rise apartment...
But I don't see your cross!
I see your expensive clothes...
But I don't see your cross!
I see your spoiled-as-fuck 'lover'...
But I don't see your cross!
You can instantly have what would take me years to have.
All you have to do is call mom and dad.
What have you done to deserve those things?!
Nothing.
Because you don't have a cross.
I'll concede that I don't have a cross, either.
But I have a midnight rock.
It's weighing down my soul.
And it heavier than any cross you'll ever bear.
The West and The East saw to that.

Of course I remember you.
Not that you would ever ask me if I did.
Your shining black hair was was a floating portent.
A prophesy of indeliberate wrath.
I wonder if your eyes would have tasted bittersweet...
Like the dark, dark, chocolate brown they resembled.
Or maybe just plain bitter.
They didn't sparkle when you looked at me.
The never sparkled.
Sanded marble orbs placed in a soulless shell.
How could you possibly have a soul?
If you took for granted gifts of such a magnitude.
My friendship.
My love.
My sacrifice.
Can I really be angry, though?
No.
Because you don't have a soul.
It's just as logical to be angry at a stone.
And that's essentially what you are.
A cold, black stone.
Like the one tied to my heart.
You are The East.

They praised you for your skill.
They gave you affirmations for you victories.
They said you dazzled everyone.
You used to dazzle me too.
You touched me with your quiet acknowledgements.
Oh how quiet they were.
For only our ears heard them.
You made certain of that.
You cared about what your fans thought.
They speculated.
You denied.
Like a murderer's darkest secret.
You hid the small, sweet fruits we fed each other.
Was I really that far beneath you?
Why were they all so important to you, those fans?
Your loyal fans?
I wonder how loyal they would have been.
If you didn't have your skill.
Your useless skill.
I despised your skill.
You wasted your time on it.
If only you had invested that time being true to yourself.
No mask, just you.
No trophies. just you.
No talent, just you.
Just you.
That was good enough to make me a fan.
Your truest fan.
But that mask you wore.
That false self you wore for your fans.
I hated that mask.
I wanted to tear it off your face.
And smash it pieces.
Smash it to dust.
But you placed yourself so high.
Ascended on false wings.
And stood on your plastic pedestal.
I tried to knock you down.
Off your hateful perch.
I attacked you.
I had to.
I had to defend myself.
I had to avenge myself.
What else can you do?
When someone harms you they way you did me?
But you denied my revenge.
You kicked me down your false mountain
Your steep, steep mountain.
Who know a such a huge pile of shit could be so steep?
But I think I wanted to suffer your fury.
For I thought that it was better be in the midst of your wrath.
Than to be in the depths of your ignorance.
Because you were forgetting me.
And the sweet little fruits we used to share.
Now they are rotten and bitter.
How loathsome you are, you coward.
You are still hiding behind that mask, I'm sure.
You are still demonstrating that useless skill.
You are still maintaining your value to your fans.
You place so much value on your skill.
Too much value.
Answer me this.
What happens when you age?
And you can't use your skill?
And your fans leave you?
What will you have left?
You've neglected your soul for so long.
One day you'll have to go back to it.
Because that's all you'll have left.
Because everything on this planet devalues eventually.
Because everything on this planet withers eventually.
Because everything on this planet breaks eventually.
Because everything on this planet dies eventually.
But not the soul.
It never dies.
It never breaks.
It never withers.
No, you won't get out of it that easily.
However the soul can devalue.
If you let it.
Which you have.
So I smile.
I know I no longer need to climb.
Your false mountain of shit.
To get my revenge.
In fact, I need only watch.
Because the slow and ardent hellfires of time.
Will torch and tarnish your disgustingly fake mask.
Until it breaks it's insisting vice.
And the flames will incinerate your hill of false glory and excrement.
Just as insistingly.
You will not let yourself burn.
You will run across the desert of the sands of time.
Or maybe you will just reluctantly traverse.
To seek shelter and protection in your soul tree.
But wait.
It's not the tree you were anticipating.
It's quite small.
Indeed, you haven't been back here for a very long time.
This tree can't grow without proper care.
Did you really think it was going water itself!?
In this desert!?
It can't protect you now!
From the pursuing flames!
No, your "tree" will not burn.
But you will!
If only you had paid more attention to it.
The only everlasting part of you.
You could have had an Yggdrasil.
It could have been your shelter from time's blaze.
But you have forsaken it for a plastic pedestal.
A huge pile of shit to stand on.
Now your "tree" is just a stick in the sand.
Yes, coward, you will burn.
The flames will come.
Their red-hot crimson knives.
Will cool in your weakening body.
If only you had watered your tree.
Your well deserved, yet unnecessary suffering.
Won't be my doing.
But I will still take pride in it.
I wish you ill.
It's not that the wound you gave me scarred me.
It just that it won't stop bleeding.
Despite this, I can't.
I can't find it within me to be angry with you anymore.
Knowing what fate you will eventually suffer.
I think it would be more appropriate to pity you.
And perhaps I can thank you as well.
For the black stone you gave me.
My void-stone.
My nightmare rock.
Interesting how such painful and heavy things like my black rock.
Can provide such a strong catalyst for growth.
Yes, I see growth.
And I'm confident my tree will someday be Yggdrasil.
A strong tree is something you too could have.
But you probably won't.
You are the West.

Things Donal Hates: Myspace "Surveys" And The Poisoning Of The Word "Random".

Here's something that really makes my skin crawl. Muthafuckin' Myspace "surveys". You just know that there is some useless, snotty-ass 14 year-old behind their Commodore 64 trying to clack make a "random" survey by asking "what kind of dog do u have" and then try to be sneaky and pry into your personal life by suddenly asking "have u evr kissed ur bff and if yes than y". First of all, nothing is "random". There is no such thing as a "random" person, and there certainly is no such thing as "random" survey, because people aren't "random". People are indeed psychologically complex, but they are very predictable and there are even some very educated and specialized people who can predict people's actions almost precisely. So you really can't have a random survey.

Also, you don't have the right to use the word "random" anymore, you brats. You've taken the word and taken it from a solid, intelligent word to an utterance rendered into a dorky and cliche teenage colloquialism to bring up in your meaningless anecdotes.

"OMG there was like this random guy and he just randomly whipped out his penis and just randomly raped my sister randomly".

Fuck you. Your right to use "random" has officially been revoked. I can't say that your adolescent minds are competent enough to actually be selective about your vocabulary, so you must be lazy, reaching for any word that closest to you, like a double amputee pissing in his drinking cup because he can't be bothered to wheel himself to the toilet. Anyway, here's a better version of your little anecdote:

"My goodness! A man suddenly appeared and abruptly presented his penis. Shortly thereafter, he raped my sister. I must say, I was rather surprised by his actions".

That's better. If you weren't high during all your classes and got cultured you might be able to speak that way someday. That is, if you don't have to drop out of middle school to take 2 jobs to support your 3 kids and to shut up your white trash girlfriend (who was unshapely even before she had the children).

Anyway, I enjoy satire very much, so I made fun of a survey two of my friends had posted. The questions are unmodified from the original, and the answers are uninhibited. Needless to say, doing this served as quite the ego boost (which is why I am feeling particularly arrogant today). Look for the "sneaky" questions that try to pry into my personal life, and how I own them with my feigned cockyness.


Your phone is ringing. It's the person you fell hardest for, what do you say?
I have some Viagra and some wine. Let's make up.

Could you forgive a bf/gf who physically hurt you?
PHYSICALLY? That's impossible. I'm invincible. I'M THA JUGGAKNOT, BITCH! I'VE BEEN WAITIN' FO' THIS SHIT MAH WHOLE LIFE!!!

Do you find it hard to trust others?
I dunno about that, but I know I can trust your mother to satisfy me.

What were you doing at 4am this morning?
Smacking your mother around.

Does anyone call you babe or baby?
Oh yeah.

Do people ever call you by your last name?
Yes. My harem of geisha call me "Andrews-Sama" (Lord Andrews)

Are you wearing any clothes that don't belong to you?
Your girlfriend's panties.

Who is the last person you texted?
A chick with a fine rack.

Have you kissed the last person you texted?
I don't kiss girls, girls kiss ME.

Tell me about the shirt you are wearing?
I don't have time for clothes. For my life particular lifestyle, it's mostly pointless to wear any.

What's the last thing you put in your mouth?
Don't remember really, but I bet I know what you put in yours.

What are you doing now?
Something you'll never get to do, that's for sure.

Is anything bothering you right now?
Assholes who take my soda and dig through my trash like it's an open buffet.

Do you ever think "what if" about anything?
I think about if I hadn't decided to have a threesome with your mom and your girlfriend. What a mistake that would have been.

Are you happy with the way things are going?
Broads on my jock all the time, eatin' like a king, makin' dope bank. Very little room for improvement.

Are you nice to everyone?
Yeah, unless they're fucking Swedes who take my women or old-ass geezers who jack my soda. Oh, and assholes who write "your" instead of "you're". Fuck that shit.

What's the last letter of your middle name?
"R" as in REAL GANGSTA.

Do you play with dead bugs?
Do you want an ass whoopin'?

Who was the last person of the opposite sex you had a conversation with?
Some white chick with a nice chest.

What are you wearing on your feet?
Clothes are too much effort (always on and off, on and off) but you'll always find on me a fine pair of thick woolly leggings to complement my hairy legs.

Do you check your texts right away when you receive them?
Bitches be textin' me all the time. I don't have for that shit, 'n'a' mean?

Do you think you'll be married in 5 years?
Ain't no broad gonna tie me down and pussy-whip me.

The last time you kissed someone, were your hands around their neck?
Of course. Because I always get a jolly out of choking women.

Have you ever found someone you really really really liked?
I get the feeling that you're coming on to me.

Are you close with your dad?
My dad rocks your balls. On the real though, I'm better looking than him.

Is anyone else in the room with you?
As a rule, I have at least 2 females in the room with me at all times.

How do you feel right now?
I'm Action Bastard, dawg. How do you think I feel?

What are you most anxious/​​​​​excited for right now?
Waiting for the folks at Guiness to get over here confirm my penis for the "world's largest penis" record.

What is your favorite drink?
Virgin Pina Colada.

Are you satisfied with what you currently have in life?
We fly, no lie, you know this (BALLIN...).

What's something you do when you're mad?
You act like a bitch, you gon' git slapped like a bitch. Pure and simple, dawg.

How do you feel about your hair right now?
Man, I got that shit shaved.

Do you have any siblings?
I offed the competition a LONG time ago.

Do you get distracted easily?
Females are rather distracting. So yeah.

Has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes?
They'll tell me anything to get in my pants.

Have you ever had a best friend who is of the opposite sex?
Naw. Girls NEVER see me as a just a friend.

Do you enjoy late night phone conversations?
Hell no. I don't have time fo' that shit. Late night? I'm at the club getting recruits to fortify my harem.

Do you like taking walks?
I don't even know what that is 'cause I'm ALWAYS rollin' in my Six-Four.

Is there a meaning behind your Myspace song?
Mum is some gangster-ass shit. You're clearly a homo if you aren't down with that shit.

Could you go the rest of your life without doing any drugs?
Vagina is MY "anti-drug".... So yeah.

Do you miss anyone in your life?
I ain't never miss no ho. I miss your mom a fair bit, though.

Are you waiting for anyone to call you?
Waitin' fo' that bitch to tell me where my money at.

What was the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?
Told your mom to get out.

Have you kissed the same person more than 20 times in 09?
I'm muthafuckin' Action Bastard. Do you really have to ask?

When is the last time you said you were fine and you really weren't?
That never happens. I've never had to lie about feelin' good....

What can you say about the first guy on your top?
They ain't no guy on top of me, dawg.

Do you give out second chances too easily?
Hell no. Bitch sass me and she's out like Micheal Jackson on an overdose.

When did you last laugh really hard?
When your mom was on her knees.

What was your last thought before you went to bed last night?
"Today was a good day...."

Who is the last girl you hugged?
I don't hug girls, girls hug ME.

Did you hug or kiss anyone today?
Hell yeah. Females. Who did you kiss? Your dad?

Will you talk to the person you like tonight?
I don't like anyone. Everything pisses me off..... jackin' mah soda and shit....

Has anyone ever called you an asshole?
Yeah, and I don't disagree wit' 'em. Anyone can be "nice", but it takes a special person to be a true asshole.

Is there someone that makes you happy every time you speak with them?
On the real, I'm more concerned about my enemies and how i'mma jump they shit tonight.

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
Like I said, my phone is ALWAYS blowin' up.

Have you ever fallen asleep with the last person you kissed?
Heheheheheh....... That's a big Captain Falcon YES!

When is the next time you'll hug someone?
I really hate this survey. How old are you? I'd like to give YOU a hug..... Around your neck.

What was the most memorable thing that happened this summer?
When I let the drama llama out and gave some asshole the verbal beat down.

Have you ever kissed someone with braces?
I ain't down with no brace face. I prefer women OVER 18, actually.

What's a fact about the last person that texted you?
She is one of the very few women who can make me laugh, which I find genuinely impressive. And I'm not easily impressed (*high standards alert*)

What side of a heart do you draw first?
The left side 'cause that's the Crip side.

Think to the last person you kissed, have you ever kissed them on your bed?
Ohhhhhhhhhhhh yeahhhh.

What did the fifth text in your inbox say?
"Fuck your face." (It actually says that, no joke)

From who?
Some Asian broad.

Could you cry right now?
Yeah, because this survey is really painful.

When was the last time you talked to your number 1 on top friends in person?
Never. He's a total douche. I wonder if he's even real.

Is there a specific moment you can replay in your mind perfectly?
I'm done with this.

Why Mario is a Communist Asshole

So the other day I decided to crack open the ol' Wii and play some the tried and true Super Mario Bruthaz. You know, for the NES. It has been some time since I seriously played it. Many years, actually. As a young lad, I looked at it simply as one of my favorite pastimes. Indeed, Mario and the crew rarely failed to entertain. But now that I am older and wiser, I am able to see more than than just the array of pixels. I see Super Mario for what it is: Communist propaganda.

I believe that Mario represents a communism-following member of the proletariat. Think about it: Mario is a small red man. Red clearly represents communism, and the fact that he also wearing brown suggests some lower class standing. As Mario collects red mushrooms, perhaps representing the wisdom of communism, he grows bigger. This bigger form of Mario is more of a threat than his smaller self, but is still dressed in the garbs of the lower class. Finally, when he obtains the shining flower of righteous wisdom, he is able to thwart his capitalist foes with red fireballs. Well, I guess red is to be expected, on account that fire is often depicted as red.


The enemies, to me, seem to represent the different people in a capitalist society, and seems to glorify the ones with some kind of connection with Communism. The most striking example of this is the koopa/turtle enemies. The green ones (obviously representative of the average, capitalist man) walks off an edge to it's death, but the red ones (also representative of the average, capitalist man, but of one who is knowledgeable of and open minded to communism) will save themselves from from falling off a cliff or giant mushroom by turning around. They seem to walk around in circles, almost as if suggesting that they are thinking, thereby also suggesting that they are at least somewhat more enlightened that their green, strictly capitalistic brethren. The turtles are sometimes shown with wings, and the red turtles are always flying rather well, while their green counterparts only manage slow, short hops. In certain levels you are attacked by flying red fish. Green fish are seen, but only underwater, and swimming slowly at that.

Mario heartlessly busts his way through his enemies, stomping and burning those who do not agree with his ideals. He runs for miles as he breaks into people's houses and launches himself though their plumbing, making sure he tears down any green capitalist flags and erecting a red one in the name of Communism. Finally, Mario arrives at the large castle (clearly built on the sweat and blood of the prolitariate) and does battle with the big green monster, submerging him in red lava.


So one might ask "So like, if Mario is so Communistic, then why does he collect coins? Isn't that something a capitalist does?". To him I answer: "Don't be a douchebag". What do you expect him to collect? Cheese? Even Freud said "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar". Then again, maybe Mario is just Mario.

Then again, Mario looks a fair bit like Stalin.

Forward (backward?) note: The theory itself isn't really my own idea, but as far as I know (I did, like, two google searches) the thoughts here are mostly original.

OH SHIT!

Hey folks, this is D-Unit just poppin' in for a quickie. I have been hella busy with some ol' bullshit like getting moved to Eugene and dealing with some drama llama bullshit and whatnot. I don't have internets at the new hause yet so my blog posts are gonna be a bit infrequent even though I've already dealt with all the other gangster shit in my life. But for now, here's a picture of your mom:

We Got A Brand New Dance Called "Punch His Ass Right In The Dick".

So I was making myself of bowl of cereal just now when I suddenly remembered a wonderful song. It's now stuck in my head so hard that I can't even sleep, so I figured I would share it with you. It's called Punch 'Em In The Dick by Juicy Karkass. Here's the video followed by the lyrics.

Curiously, I found the video of Jizz In My Pants in the "related videos" section on this video's Youtube page.






Punch 'em in the dick
(What)
Punch 'em in the dick
(What)
Fuckers talk shit
I'ma punch 'em in the dick
(Bow!)
Punch 'em in the diiiiick
Punch 'em in the diiiiick
Motherfuckers talk shit
I'ma punch 'em in the dick

Yo look at that chump
See the way that he struts
Don't kick him in the rump
Go nuts on his nuts
Just pop a squat
Start lettin' off the shots
Like knock knock knock
Just coldcocked his cock
Yo, to all the cock-knockers
Nut-crackers
Ball-breakers
Peter-beaters
Keep on boxing your baby makers
With a sock to the jock
Better make that a double
Just a couple of rounds of knuckles
Beneath the buckle and he'll buckle
If you're in trouble
Give him some urine trouble
Hand him his balls
And tell him better learn to juggle
Turn his pebbles into rubble
Make him wonder what might've been
Make it so the South will never rise again

Now every man claims to be the toughest and the meanest
Watch your crocks, because soon the losers will be your weenus
And the winners in all the gladiator arenas
Are always the ones that go straight for the penis

So punch 'em in the dick
(What)
Punch 'em in the dick
(What)
Motherfucker talk shit
I'ma punch 'em in the dick
(B'low!)
Punch 'em in the diiiiick
Punch 'em in the diiiiick
Motherfucker talk shit
I'ma punch 'em in the dick

Punch 'em in the dick
(What)
Punch 'em in the dick
(What)
Motherfucker talk shit
I'ma punch 'em in the dick
(Bow!)
Punch 'em in the diiiiick
Punch 'em in the diiiiick
You motherfuckers talk shit
I'ma punch 'em in the dick

I'll give your willy a welt
Like you ain't never felt
Soon as I'm knelt
I'ma pelt you below the belt
Like Bang!
Bust em' in the wang
Like it ain't no thang
Now you really can't hang

But you ain't gotta be a dude
Shit, I'll dick-punch a chick
Because I don't discriminate
When I punch em' in the dick
Whether Suzie Homemaker or a floozy home-wrecker
I'ma deck'er in the pecker, mother-fecker

It could be your mama
Better be no drama
You could be the Dalai llama
I'ma still put it on ya
With a right, left, right, left
Yo dick punched
Then you say Goddam, my shit's crunched
Scrotum? I damn near killed 'em
I capped him in (?) the boner, man
Forget about children
You ain't got enough kung-fu to bust some ninja shit
Fuck Sun-Tzu, you want to learn the Art of Won

Punch 'em in the dick
(What)
Punch 'em in the dick
(What)
Motherfuckers talk shit
Straight punch 'em in the dick
(B'low!)
Punch 'em in the diiiiick
Punch 'em in the diiiiick
You motherfuckers talk shit
Straight punch 'em in the dick

Punch 'em in the dick
(What)
Punch 'em in the dick
(What)
Motherfuckers talk shit
Straight punch 'em in the dick
(B'ow!)
Punch 'em in the diiiiick
Punch 'em in the diiiiick
You motherfuckers talk shit
Punch 'em in the dick

We
Got
A brand new dance
Called punch his ass right in the dick

We
Got
A brand new dance
Called punch his ass right in the dick

Any of you snotty kids be talkin' shit
I'ma drop a fist on your naughty bits
I got punches a'plentiful
You bet your rear-end it'll sting
When I start swingin' on your genitals
Because then it'll swell up all out of proportion
Lookin' like an eggplant forced into your foreskin
Nevermind abortion
Forget vasectomy
I got your birth-control... B'low!
Nut-check, homey

I punched God in the dick
I punched Mary in the dick
I punched Jesus Christ in the dick
Yo, I punched Cheney in the dick
I punched Powell in his colon
I punched George in his Bush
I punched Condoleezza Rice in the diiiiiick

Punch 'em in the dick
(What)
Punch 'em in the dick
(What)
Motherfuckers talk shit
Straight punch 'em in the dick
(B'low!)
Punch 'em in the diiiiick
Punch 'em in the diiiiick
You motherfuckers talk shit
What, I'ma punch 'em in the dick
Blaaah!

Punch 'em in the dick
(Ungh)
Punch 'em in the dick
(Ungh)
Motherfuckers talk shit
Straight punch 'em in the dick
Blaaah!

Punch 'em in the diiiiick
Punch 'em in the diiiiick
Motherfuckers talk shit
Yo, punch 'em in the dick

Gonna punch 'em in the dick
Watch me punch 'em in the dick
Love to punch 'em in the dick
Born to punch 'em in the dick
Forever punch 'em in the dick
Sucker punch 'em in the dick
Fruit punch 'em in the dick
Hawaiian punch 'em in the motherfuckin' diiiick