Archive for the analysis Category

Mr. Punk …. Debbie Dominator ….. Talking Punk …. Being Punk

Posted in analysis, books, celebrity, Commentary,, dominance, Politics with tags , , , , , , , on June 19, 2016 by B Schiff

Mr. Punk …. Debbie Dominator ….. Talking Punk …. Being Punk

The Punk likes to talk Punk. The Punk just craves his craves ……. his tough, masculine craves.

The Punk likes to talk Punk.  Talking Punk is a very manly, gratifyingly erotic thing to do for punks of all stripes, sizes, compensations, needs of general release and open trips to an incessantly onanistic orgy.

The Punk likes to talk Punk.  Talking Punk is good for sadism, auto eroticism, connecting with limped cored brown shirts and sensually challenged fever blisters who thrive upon the longings for smash and maim, jack boots and decimation.  Punk talk is rife in the language of sensual release.  Ahhh …. the thrills of a good whupping …. the joys of a good, feeding frenzied hate.

The Punk likes to talk Punk.  The brown shirt army is his for the making.  The jack booted mavens are his for the beckoning.  The numbed headed followers are his for the wanting.  The force of the rancid will is his in his heaven, is his in his lusts.  The punk lusts after his lusts.  The lusts of a fevered punk.

Listen to the punk Punk.   Listen to him yelp.  Listen to the punk Punk.

Talking Punk is breathing.  Being Punk is seething.  Releasing Punk is  ….

The Punk loves to talk Punk.  He craves who he craves.

The Punk just craves his craves ……. his tough, masculine craves.

The Punk as Debbie Dominator. Playing nice does not Dominance make.

The Punk as Debbie Dominator.

The Punk likes being on top.

The Punk likes dominating.

The punk wants to be on top …… the grim picture of his mind.

The Punk wants the right to say boo and screw and ooooooooo, ahhhhh, ohhhhh.

The Punk wants to win …..  to be only in that heavenly position of Dominance.

The joy and release for the Punk.

Playing human with other boys and girls does not Dominance make.

Debbie Dominator against the world

The Punk going it alone.  Debbie Dominator against the world.  The detached rants and plants and vile chants.  The Punk goes it alone.

Owes nothin’ to nobody, no how, no way.  The Punk goes it alone.

His army beacons ….. his punks and skunks, praying monks.  The thrill of their aggression needs be harnessed and focused and made ready for intimidation, fear, blows …. all the tender uses of the mob..  The Punk goes it alone.

Who will stand up to Debbie Punk when he will threaten to get his lovers after those who deserve not to be?

Just see Debbie in power.

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…https://dominancegamespolitics.com/

Facebook ….. https://www.facebook.com/pages/Dominance-Games-Politics/367557053280536

books…  http://bschiff.com/

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Independence from independence.

Posted in analysis, books, celebrity, Commentary,, current events, dominance, Politics with tags , , , , , , , , on July 1, 2015 by B Schiff

Independence from independence.

Action.  Reaction.  Victories let in highly sweet air.  They also tighten the  pressure  upon the bubbles of air surrounding those who see that their causes have been burned.  Aggression often waits.  Revenge.  Hatred.  How much give is there in the loyal oppositions when they are new to that role?

The underbellies of staunch conservation and entitled ideals, anti government ideals, need not to be made to boil.  This is a blackmail.  This is a pitch and play and a way to fight off anti authoritarians.  Set up the mad mobs.  Set up the keepers of the flame.  Ride the horse hard.

Independence from independence.

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…https://dominancegamespolitics.com/

Facebook ….. https://www.facebook.com/pages/Dominance-Games-Politics/367557053280536

books…  http://bschiff.com/

http://bschiffdotcom.wordpress.com/

http://twitter.com/BSchiff2

 

 

 

The sad realities of Union offer an interesting gig.

Posted in analysis, books, celebrity, Commentary,, current events, dominance, Politics with tags , , , , , , , , on June 28, 2015 by B Schiff

The sad realities of Union offer an interesting gig.

The tides of secession are brought to us again in the form of examination of that once upon a time, reactions to the now and changing present, resentments of the cheeky attempts to end the civil war and declare a loser.

The tides of secession are brought to us again in the form of gun folks stroking their rights, federal government being an idea whose time is dirty, winners becoming obnoxious in their self sureness, worm turning worm turners being godly, passions flowing, union not an agenda.

The tides of secession are brought to us again in the form of fire and ice and all fights sacred and profane for blessed, unchallenged homogeneity.

The tides of secession are brought to us again in the form of forcing the sad realities of Union put upon the backs of those wishing always for the chance of a way out.

The sad realities of Union offer an interesting gig.

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…https://dominancegamespolitics.com/

Facebook ….. https://www.facebook.com/pages/Dominance-Games-Politics/367557053280536

books…  http://bschiff.com/

http://bschiffdotcom.wordpress.com/

http://twitter.com/BSchiff2

 

 

 

Sectarian, regional, sword slashing strife there. Sectarian regional, sword slashing strife there and there. Here and here.

Posted in analysis, Commentary,, current events, dominance, News, opinion, political science, Politics with tags , , , , , , , , on July 8, 2014 by B Schiff

Sectarian, regional, sword slashing strife there. Sectarian regional, sword slashing strife there and there. Here and here.

Religious extremism there.  Religious extremism there and there.  Ideological purity, swift justice killing there.  Ideological purity, swift justice killing there and there.

Sectarian, regional, sword slashing strife there.  Sectarian regional, sword slashing strife there and there.

Hateful, cherished non inclusiveness there.  Hateful, cherished non inclusiveness there and there.

Gods will and the devils playground there. Gods will and the devils playground there and there.

Worlds crumble. There. People die and die and die.  There. Barbarity and sweet hate rule. There.  The once proud march towards modernism, a degraded dream.  There.  Modernism, enlightenment, liberal, representative, institutional, power sharing democracy debunked, diminished, spit and sneered upon. There.  Modernity is not what it was. It is a hard thing for hard choices and working minds.

It, modernity, is in retreat to the land of never was.. There.  And there.

Not here and here.

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…https://dominancegamespolitics.com/

Facebook ….. https://www.facebook.com/pages/Dominance-Games-Politics/367557053280536

books…  http://bschiff.com/

http://bschiffdotcom.wordpress.com/

http://twitter.com/BSchiff2

 

 

 

 

 

 

Profit, money, life comes from leverage

Posted in analysis, Commentary,, current events, dominance, News, opinion, political science, Politics with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 13, 2013 by B Schiff

Profit, money, life comes from leverage

Interns intern for the thrill of it all.

Corporate productivity is up, up, up.

Corporate profits sit and accumulate dust …. left over from the dust that is eaten by the mean wage earner.

Them that gots shall have.

Them that gots shall dictate every little bit of behavior for prospective wage slaves and current drones.

Them that gots shall threaten any and all in tough times with tough measures.

Them that gots shall maximize survival and ensure competitiveness and make sure that they are beholden not to labor or skills or any and any push back from bodies for sale.

Business models work when human capital is cheap not dear.

Human capital best be able to have leverage or sink.

Why pay anybody anything?

Pay only when there is no other option.

Profit, money, life comes from leverage.

Dominance Games…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…https://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books…  http://bschiff.com/

http://twitter.com/BSchiff2

refer

http://www.etalkinghead.com/

http://thepoliticalforums.com/

http://www.thejeffersontree.com/

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Freedom Suite

Posted in analysis, Commentary,, current events, dominance, News, opinion, Politics, satire, writing with tags , , , , , , , , on January 5, 2013 by B Schiff

FREEDOM SUITE

Stand tall and secede

With no skin in the game there is no skin in the game.

With no fame in the game there is no fame in the game.

With no game in the game the blame in the game is for the lame in the game who have to play the sane in the game.

The sane in the game are the lame in the game who have to answer to the tame in the game who wish not to put a flame to the game.

The flame to the game is no shame to the game as the flame to the game is the flame of freedom.

Stand tall and secede.

Tired of godless socialists

Tired of godless socialists.  Tired of mushy moderates and weak kneed bleeding hearts.  Tired of know it all elites who at least believe in learning, discussion, rationality and discourse.  Tired of all of the knee jerk devils that seem to get automatic currency in this the age of dumb and dumber, adolescence as a high water mark.

Tired of the scopes of the human mind and the human heart walled off from examination by poor put upon haters who know bad secular brazen degenerates when they see them.  Tired of pots calling kettles without pots being labeled worse.

How about fascistic theocratic enforcers and intimidaters for laws of liking.  Deniers and resisters of laws rejected.  Night riders free to take on an enemy government.  My way or the highway when my strength is up and my aim is true.  Enemies … I know who and where you are.  Freedom for me to be free to do with you as I wish.

Lets all play house together.

In the general culture it is quite hard to aspire to those top rungs of achievement in which ones dreams are met and ones follies are taken off of the table and forgotten due to the mastery of skills acquired.

Years of labor and self denial are required in order to shape oneself in the image of fate and rocket towards immortality by way of the presentation of the perfect marriage of the divine and the sordid, the visceral and the ephemeral, the notable and the mundane.

Public personas come and go and the shining lights of force, awe, manipulation, drive, sensitivity, pain all emanate well from the class of achievers who define the public conversions, conversations.

The templates are hard to come by.  The rages of purity hard to achieve.  Respect is hard fought for and auras of respect drive the chase for excellence.

It is the grand respect for, embrace of, mythification of the dumb and the lewd, the loud and the diffident, the passionate drones and the deniers, debunkers of rational thought or critical examination that champions the aspirations of those who seek to be worthy.

Tis the new age of yellowing gold.  The perfect vessels of standing and hierarchy are those who worm their ways into the forms of the dead adrift upon the sea of void.

The intoxicating sea of void.

The cover to kill

It is assumed that everyone loves and admires the doctors’ oath of “do no harm” and the attendant philosophies of life involved.

It is assumed that everyone loves and admires the sound epoch of grandeur that is brought to fore by public and private actors who know harm when they see it and who know responsibility to behave well when it is thrust upon them.

It is assumed that everyone loves and admires good works and cultural magnificence, a society with standards of positive achievement, a world of straw spun to gold.  Our public stars offer us this service.  They present  fairy tale and definition … the philosophies, the philosophers, the death of reason, the rise of faith, the mountains of distinguished thought and soul searching excess.

It is assumed that everyone loves and admires the heathens who reform, the devils who sprout wings, the dragon slayers who win.

“To live and do well” is a pretense for weak thinkers or selfless floggers who are socialistic, fascistic, vain, self righteous.  They are the enemy.  It is only through the competing interests of me that the system can function and that one can get the cover to kill.

Listen to them talk and reason, sing fling and and warble their arias of divine intervention.  Squeeze the freedom of movement out of the equations of action.Be the devil wrangler.

Be iconic and do no harm.

The political plan.

Dominance Games / Politics…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…https://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books…  http://bschiff.com/

http://twitter.com/BSchiff2

refer

http://www.etalkinghead.com/

http://thepoliticalforums.com/

http://www.thejeffersontree.com/

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Guns IV. Be truly sincere.

Posted in analysis, Commentary,, current events, dominance, Guns, News, opinion, Politics, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on December 17, 2012 by B Schiff

Cry and sob.  Weep and bay.  Simper.  Be dumb another day.

Scold and shame.  Clinch teeth and damn.  The world gives inconvenient things at times.

Watch the baby.  Watch the rhyme.  Watch the games of slaying for time.

Be staunch.  Be brave.  Be truly sincere.  Be troubled.  Be anxious.  Be the enemy of fear.

Be the wise old head.  Be a of gravitas earned.  Be the paragon of virtue.

Knee jerks.  Flee jerks.  Have the fight.

Take its steam.

Have  power that does not wane.

The sheep always run scared.

Dominance Games / Politics…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…https://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books…  http://bschiff.com/

http://twitter.com/BSchiff2

refer

http://www.etalkinghead.com/

http://thepoliticalforums.com/

http://www.thejeffersontree.com/

To donate for post or site as you may wish….. sin

is sin
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Dominance Games: An Essay on Power A Novel…Installment Two

Posted in analysis, books, Commentary,, Drama, literature, Mystery, political philosophy, political science, Politics, writing with tags , , , on January 11, 2012 by B Schiff

Dominance Games: An Essay on Power

A Novel

Installment Two

There were foreign objects; there was pain.  It was the 6th of fucking June.

On came Richard fucking Kenny and his fellow fucking brave hearts.  On came God’s fucking crusade in some fucking death trap of a fucking landing craft in the fucking English fucking Channel just dying to help a bunch of fucked up, fuck assed fucking Frogs get their god damned, fucking fucked up fucking country back from some god damned, fucking fucked up fucking fuck assed crazy assed fucking goose assed stepping assed, fucking, rot in hell fucking Krauts.

Dreams for Richard fucking Kenny.

A putrid soldier’s dreams.

Richard fucking Kenny found himself with the first assault waves of American heroes climbing up the fucking beaches of fucking Normandy.

The young man next to Richard fucking Kenny on the fucking landing craft on the way to the fucking beach sang the praises of Christ the fucking Lord.  The one next to him puked his fucking guts out.  Richard fucking Kenny had not only come three thousand fucking miles to get his fucking ass blown off but he had to do it with some fucking idiot’s fucking puke all over his fucking gear and some other fucking idiot singing the fucking praises of Christ the fucking lord in his fucking ear.

Richard fucking Kenny was very fucking agitated, disgusted about the whole fucking thing.  He was fucking annoyed.  He would, he thought, have, at least, died a happier goddamned fucking death if he was sliced and diced by one of his old fucking playmates and left to bleed to death in some god damned fucking stink hole puddle in some god damned fucking stink hole alley behind some god damned fucking, rotten assed, fucking greasy spoon.

His god damned, fucking father, where ever the fuck he was must be turning over in his god damned, fucking grave at the thought of his only fucking son running around with a bunch of fucking red necked fucking bloody fucking American he-men about to fucking charge good old fucking Europe, from whence his god damned, fucking father ran, to play god damned, fucking wonder soldier, god damned brave fucking wonder fucking hero.

Kraut soldiers were without bitter appreciation.

Richard fucking Kenny hit the beach on the shores very early in the fucking morning.

The fucking Kraut soldiers did not want to lose precious ground.  They wanted Richard fucking Kenny and his fucking friends to be fucking dead.  They appreciated fucking greatness, not Richard fucking Kenny.  Little fucking Addie Kraut was their mad fucking fool.  He was strong.

A wonder fucking soldier, wearing his spiffy little super duper little fucking uniform and traveling fucking on, Richard fucking Kenny was a thrill a minute.  Richard fucking Kenny was getting his fucking tail shot at pretty fucking good.  This day was to Richard fucking Kenny was a particular pain in the ass.

Richard fucking Kenny in the middle of a fucking, stinking, dirty, fucking, fuck assed, fucking foxhole in the middle of the fucking, stinking, dirty, fucking fuck assed screw assed fucking war.

Richard fucking Kenny became a dirty, fucking hero, another fucking smart assed, wise assed fucking wise guy, wise assed fucking savior.

Two fucking throwbacks to some fucking simian past.  Two fucking, anti-Semitic, anti-human, sub-human fucking throwbacks.  Richard fucking Kenny killed seven fucking Krauts.  Richard Kenny knocked off a fucking Kraut machine gun nest

Richard fucking Kenny barely stopped himself from killing the two fucking southern fucking fuck assed fucking throwbacks to some fucking simian past, the two fucking, anti-Semitic, anti-human, sub-human fucking southern throwbacks.  He saved his fucking outfit.

The lieutenant who was barely fucking alive only by grace of God and the captain who was half dead were both fucking very fucking happy that Richard fucking Kenny didn’t kill all of their own fucking wonder soldiers.  They were both exceptionally proud that Richard fucking Kenny was a member of their, this man’s, fucking Army.  They were most certainly overwhelmed.  Richard fucking Kenney was their great fucking hope.

Richard fucking Kenny was put upon the god damned fucking earth to do great things, to fuck rotten fucking ladies, to be sharp as a tack, twice as mean.  He loved to save the lives of the fucking wonderful who would be very happy to hang his happy little fucking New York fucking assed neck from a god damned fucking cross when he was back in the god damned fucking fuck assed States.  Richard fucking Kenny just wanted to jump up and down and salute the god damned fucking good old fucking red, white and fucking blue’s best fucking examples of fucking class.

* * * * * * * * * *

Richard fucking Kenny demeaned dangled leaden calves, gave up on dangled fucking leaden losers.  He jack assed backward through the straights of hell.  Sanguine, straight, Richard fucking Kenny jack assed backward through low dealers, low weasels, low wants, low fucking kills.

The All fucking American fucking boy was not something Richard fucking Kenny could put up with too much longer.  Richard fucking Kenny reveled in his own fucking wonder.  He was fucking proud that he had saved the lives of all of the fucking red necked fucking fuck assed fucking hicks.  Richard fucking Kenny was tired, very, very tired, and he didn’t want the All fucking American fucking boy to wake up one fucking morning and turn on Richard fucking Kenny when Richard fucking Kenny wasn’t fucking looking

Many forms, many shapes the All fucking American fucking hero.  He said many different fucking things.  He was sure to turn into a no good fucking asshole sooner or later.  Poor Richard fucking Kenny.

Richard fucking Kenny survived the fucking war.

He survived it.  The first day, the first day off the fucking beach.

Richard fucking Kenny survived the second day, the second day off the fucking beach.

Richard fucking Kenny survived the third day.

Richard Kenny survived the fourth day.

Richard fucking Kenny survived the first fucking month off the fucking beach.

Richard fucking Kenny survived the first fucking year off the fucking beach.

Richard fucking Kenny survived the fucking war.

* * * * * * * * * *

Amy.  Sweet, sweet, Amy.  Amy Lucille to the young men and women of pride and honor.  Amy Lucille to those who sought the glint in her radiant brown eyes shining brightly as she allowed company with the sons and daughters of manners and property.  She, Amy Lucille, able to touch their hearts vigorously, in worship and adoration.

Amy.  Sweet, sweet, Amy was that which could make life worth living, a shining beacon apart from all others of a peculiar conflagration of will, of a peculiar conflagration of mood, a treasure, Amy.  Sweet, sweet, Amy.  She wished to be the ideal to which all fine young dreamers might aspire, who did not let the pedestal upon which she found herself not allow her to not do what she must.

The giver of sunshine and shadow, the purveyor of pleasure and pain.  The killer of mothers, the lovers of fathers, the seductress of aunts and uncles.  The touch, the brush, the sweet, sweet kiss, the dear, sweet caress.  Amy, sweet, sweet Amy.  The nectars, the juices of sweet, sweet existence.  How sweet, sweet Amy craved.  How she craved.  Sweet, sweet Amy.

Sweet, smart Amy.  Amy, sweet, sweet Amy could only think of thighs and such and water her lips with the tip of her tongue.  Amy.  Sweet, sweet, Amy could only think of sighs and such and water her lips with the tip of her tongue.  The sweet, sweet lovers of sweet, sweet Amy, sweetly, sweetly maimed, murdered, before sweet, sweet Amy could ever again enjoy their sweet, sweet pleasures.

The lures of those who fondled, the lures of those who craved, Amy, sweet, sweet Amy would live to crave a thousand lives.  The sweet, sweet lovers of sweet, sweet Amy, sweetly, sweetly maimed, murdered, before sweet, sweet Amy could ever again enjoy their sweet, sweet pleasures.

She was the last best hope of daunting sin, Amy.

Some men died for love, Sweet Amy figured.  Some men died for money, Sweet Amy figured.  Some just wanted freedom from ghosts, dead spirits, evil, she figured.  Some took the path of least resistance.  Some, the last alternative to life.

Amy.  Sweet, sweet, Amy.

She baited, she cooed, Amy.  She laughed, she darted.  She promised lusts with her lips, said goodbye with her hips, Amy.  She was a gift given, Amy.  Her lips inspired trust, her voice aching want, Amy.  She drew hearts out as a magnet, Amy.  She drew spirits with ferocious fire.  The sweetness.  The contempt.

Get to a strong man, a weak man, a smart man, Amy figured.  Make a magic wand, Amy figured.  A turn of the screw, she figured.  A way in, a way out.  Will to will, strength to strength.  Strength to weakness, guile, subtlety.  Amy knew the equations well.  Worked them well.

* * * * * * * * * *

Dominance Games / Politics…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…https://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books…  http://bschiff.com/

http://twitter.com/BSchiff2

refer

http://www.etalkinghead.com/

http://thewashingtonfancy.com/

http://www.thejeffersontree.com/

To donate for post or site as you may wish….. sin is sin
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Dominance Games / Politics: Show me the river

Posted in analysis, Commentary,, current events, News, opinion, political science, Politics, satire with tags , , , , , , , on December 29, 2011 by B Schiff

Dominance Games / Politics

The new year and the winter of our thrills.  The promise and the cold.  The hope and the dark.  The future and the trials.  The body politic and the illusions of sunrise.  Show a path to the grand parties and celebrations of the season.   Show a path to the foils of life and the joys of ease.  Show a path to a good nights sleep.

Show a path to an outstretched hand, the calming wit, a soothing gravitas.  Show a path to a willing patron saint of wretched staunchness and honorable pride,  Show a path to the springtime of actors acting for good purpose, for the rough dirt of the rough work.

Show a path towards a synthesis of good minds and true, fair thoughts and chaste.  Show a path towards the illusions left to those who wish the way home, the way to make good happen.

Show me the river.

Of note:

http://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2011/12/the-fraud-of-voter-fraud/250617/

Dominance Games / Politics…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…https://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books…  http://bschiff.com/

http://twitter.com/BSchiff2

refer

http://www.etalkinghead.com/

http://toppoliticalsites.org/

http://www.thejeffersontree.com/

To donate for post or site as you may wish….. sin is sin
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Dominance Games / Politics: The rest is meat….Reprise

Posted in analysis, Commentary,, current events, News, opinion, political science, Politics, satire with tags , , , , , , , on December 25, 2011 by B Schiff

Dominance Games / Politics

We hate the guy who tells the story

of the winds of hope and the days of glory

We hate the tale of the heathen prince…

the comely queen and the long days since…

the strokes of bold, the swords of fire…

the smallest fear of the funeral pyre…

We hate the lights not heaven sent…

the slime of the earth, the words not meant…

We hate the lies, the stares, the lairs

of the beasts of prey, the jackals of night…

We hate the scores of wisdom’s verse…

the lack of time, the small of purse….

We hate the lords and heroes all..

We know they push the pleading call…..

of Death the master who knows the fates….

Kill the spirit……

The rest is meat….

Happy merry Xmas

Of note:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/12/17/opinion/crippling-the-right-to-organize.html?_r=1&nl=todaysheadlines&emc=thab1

Dominance Games / Politics…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…https://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books…  http://bschiff.com/

http://twitter.com/BSchiff2

refer

http://www.etalkinghead.com/

http://toppoliticalsites.org/

http://www.thejeffersontree.com/

To donate for post or site as you may wish….. sin is sin
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Dominance Games / Politics: Tis once again the season of thanks

Posted in analysis, Commentary,, current events, dominance, News, opinion, Politics, satire with tags , , , , , on November 23, 2011 by B Schiff

Dominance Games / Politics

Thanksgiving.

Celebrate the season with the best of the commodities upon the market, the landscape.  Love, peace and joy.  Treacly Christmas cards from spouting hypocrites.  The loud givings of thanks for empty bounty from pressing souls seeking redemption.

Public ether promotes diversion, division, want, anger, celebration, warring camps.  posh factions, fetching confusion, hapless disarray, homey hopelessness, lovable provocateurs waiting to step up and in with tough.

Government useless and worthless and all pretty little power goes on its merry way to happy little lands of happy little misty magicians and warrior kings.

Government useless and worthless and all that pretty little power goes on its merry way to the heavens  of the strong, the moral suckers and closers fighting  indifference and leveraging all of the dark forces of control over movement, thought, survival, wealth, access to wealth, access to food, access to mobility, clothing, shelter, time. life, waking up in the morning.  Life is good among the mighty.

Pretty little power goes its merry little way and fiery little swords slash away at the dirty fowl little underbrush that are the ones giving thanks.  Ain’t nowhere else to go but the dirtier stages of hell.

Disdain, diminishment, disenfranchisement, annulment;  no little rights to  external identity; happy little voiding of internal  identity;  souls given over to the trips on the river Styx, to the voyages of no place else to go.

Survival of body, absence of mind. In the end the no there there is us.  The no there there is home.  At which point do the floors upon which we stand give way and the bases upon which we survive and identify disappear.

The chaos and the storms, the emptiness and the nothings left to lose, to be, the charmers left to bow down to….. tis once again the season of thanks.

Dominance Games / Politics…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…https://dominancegamespolitics.com/

books…  http://bschiff.com/

http://twitter.com/BSchiff2

refer

http://www.etalkinghead.com/

http://toppoliticalsites.org/

http://www.thejeffersontree.com/

To donate for post or site as you may wish….. sin is sin
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Dominance Games / Politics: The umbrellas of fantasies

Posted in analysis, Commentary,, current events, dominance, News, opinion, Politics with tags , , , , , , on October 31, 2011 by B Schiff

Dominance Games / Politics

Our measly everyday incentives to be part of our measly everyday  universe, system of laws, grievances, systems of crime and punishment,  of behavior modifications, of carrots and sticks, truths too dirty to accept and appreciate, fears too deep to delve into , players and posts too intrenched to move.

What are our measly everyday incentives to be part of a long line of custom and practice, intimidations and rewards, false image and true belief, incentives to hate, incentives to gather around the tribal camp fire?

What are our measly everyday incentives to be of the grand melting pot that is the legend and rapture of a culture that preys upon divergence, mines diversity, wishes no inbreeding, feels for the loss of pride in an American nation?

What are our measly incentives to be part of a tomorrow that promises no reward,  less definition, that promises serfdom and boots upon the neck, glorious, pompous usurpers  and destroyers of law, of sovereignty?

What are our measly everyday incentives to be part of it all, the pageantry, the show, the showcase, the fury, the storms, the songs, the sirens?  What are our measly everyday incentives to be part of the world around us as it floats and goes its merry way?  What are our  incentives to survive and act and move and fold?  Other than bodily survival, fear, loss of identity, loss of compass, fear of chaos, fear of self, emptiness of choice, desperation in hearts of hearts.  The grand hammer makes for good incentive.

The fawners, the owners, the players, the breakers, the slayers, the smart have no such incentives.  Citizens of their mobility, they are, citizens of their freedom from want, freedom from jurisdiction.  The gods they cherish are the gods of insulation, access to force, power vacuum, power, flunkies , hired muscle.  Bless the basis of their place and position.  Rules are for those stuck under the umbrellas of fantasies.

Incentives? Who’s gonna make ’em?

Of interest:

http://www.politico.com/news/stories/1011/67189.html

Dominance Games / Politics…..politics, news, commentary, analysis…. The dumb …… the honored creed. The rancid bastards …… the true…. the thrill…https://dominancegamespolitics.com/

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refer

http://www.etalkinghead.com/

http://thewashingtonfancy.com/

http://www.thejeffersontree.com/

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