If the Marines could get what they need
when they needed it,
they would be happy and they wouldn’t be ready
to kill people all the time.
See, the Marines are the cursed
America’s pitbulls.
They treat us,
they beat us
and some time they let us out
to go kill somebody.
Hate, Im so full of it and I love it. That is one thing I really love. Some time ago, I used to believe in humanity and I wanted to live a long and happy life… but then I woke up. I started to think deeper and realized things. But it was not easy to become existential… knowing as much as I know has made me unhappy, frustrated and angry. I just can’t be happy in the society or the reality I live. Due to long process of existential thinking, observing the society I live and some other things happened in my life… I have come to the point where I feel nothing but hate against humanity and human race.
Life is just a meaningless coincidence… result of long process of evolution and many several factors, causes and effects. However, life is also something that an individual wants and determines it to be. And I’m the dictator and god of my own life. And me, I have chosen my way. I am prepared to fight and die for my cause. I, as a natural selector, will eliminate all who I see unfit, disgraces of human race and failures of natural selection.
You might ask yourselves, why did I do this and what do I want. Well, most of you are too arrogant and closed-minded to understand… You will proprably say me that I am “insane”, “crazy”, “psychopath”, “criminal” or crap like that. No, the truth is that I am just an animl, a human, an individual, a dissident.
I have had enough. I don’t want to be part of this fucked up society. Like some other wise people have said in the past, human race is not worth fighting for or saving… only worth killing. But… When my enemies will run and hide in fear when mentioning my name… When the gangsters of the corrupted governments have been shot in the streets… When the rule of idioracy and the democratic system has been replaced with justice… When intelligent people are finally free and rule the society instead of the idiocratic rule of majority… In that great day of deliverance, you will know what I want.
Long live the revolution… revolution against the system, which enslaves not only the majority of weak-minded masses but also the small minority of strong-minded and intelligent individuals! If we want to live in a different world, we must act. We must rise against the enslaving, corrupted and totalitarian regimes and overthrow the tyrants, gangsters and the rule of idiocracy. I can’t alone change much but hopefully my actions will inspire all the intelligent people of the world and start some sort of revolution against the current systems. The system discriminating naturality and justice, is my enemy. The people living in the world of delusion and supporting this system are my enemies.
I am ready to die for a cause I know is right, just and true… even if I would lose or the battle would be only remembered as evil… I will rather fight and die than live a long and unhappy life.
And remember that this is my war, my ideas and my plans. Don’t blame anyone else for my actions than myself. Don’t blame my parents or my friends. I told nobody about my plans and I always kept them inside my mind only. Don’t blame the movies I see, the music I hear, the games I play or the books I read. No, they had nothing to do with this. This is my war: one man war against humanity, governments and weak-minded masses of the world! No mercy for the scum of the earth! HUMANITY IS OVERRATED! It’s time to put NATURAL SELECTION & SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST back on tracks!
"Elvis didn’t die. The body did. We’re keeping up the good spirits. We’re keeping Elvis alive. I talked to him this morning and he told me to 'carry on." Colonel Tom Parker, Elvis Presley's Manager
En 2005, un quart des américains interrogés par USA Today n'ont toujours pas compris : pour eux, Elvis n'est "probablement pas mort". Elvis est l'anagramme de "Lives", il vit, vivait, vivra pour les siècles des siècles. S'appliquant à rendre vivant le mot de Priscilla Presley, qui affirmait dès 1977 que "les gens ne comprennent pas qu'il n'était pas un Dieu'', plusieurs églises supportent le mythe : ''the First Church of the 24 Hour Chuch of Elvis'', The First Presleytarian Church of Elvis the Divine'', ''Elvis Gospel Ministries''... relayant la tâche que s'est déjà fixé le ''Elvis is Alive Museum'', à savoir mettre sur pied un Elvis mort-vivant, zombie unique et universel, temporel et éternel à la fois.
De ces cendres incertaines vont alors naître une multitude de bébés-Elvis. Certains d'entre eux sentent le besoin de prendre corps d'Elvis. Ils sont les cannibales, les bébés-sosies qui ont mangé son corps comme on mange un hostie. D'autres développent la Gatheringite et toutes les théories fumeuses qui produiront le mythe d'Elvis-Lazare, renaissant glorieux (et humble à la fois) d'une mort déchéance. Ils sont les bébés-idolâtres du Elvis anonyme et multiple qui revient nous hanter aux quatre coins du globe. Il y a enfin les bébés-marchands du temple, tous ceux qui vivent de l'usufruit du mort-vivant. Ces trois espèces, en réveillant la bête, ont donné corps à la version mythique du King, annulant par la même la dette de nos peines singulières pour la grande névrose universelle. Alors seulement, Elvis devint son propre phare, le gardien de nos nuits.
"You can't touch me you're not man enough, I'll eat your asshole alive, you bitch ! Hoe, anyone here can't fuck with this, this is the ultimate man. Fuck you, you hoe! Come and say that to my face, I'll fuck you ass in front of everybody ! You bitch, Come on you bitch, You scared coward ! You're not man enough, you're not man enough to fuck with me, you can't last 2 minutes in my world bitch ! Look at you, you're scared now you hoe ! You scared like a little white pussy. Scared of the real man, I'll fuck you till you love me faggot ! " Mike Tyson
Tout d'un coup, j'ai cru comprendre la boxe. Les corps à corps désordonnés sont un ballet où chaque mouvement tient bout-à-bout dans son rapport à un ensemble. C'est un rituel, une codification de la puissance et du courage des hommes, l'invention d'un monde d'hyper-violence dans lequel poser un genoux à terre revient à se soumettre. Pour Tyson, le ring est le lieu qui dit au mieux sa place sur terre, cet enfer qu'il a conquis et qui lui ouvre le paradis. Et butté il avance, comme La Motta avant lui, seul il avance contre la peur et la mort. Il prouve son être tout entier contre ceux qu'il a fallu combattre pour qu'ils le reconnaissent. Tyson est ce corps qu'il a rendu glorieux, à force de l'inventer et d'affronter ces coups. Dans sa fureur à arracher du mouvement à l'inerte, à s'imposer dans le monde pour imposer son monde, c'est notre conscience à tous qu'il tord et qu'il mesure à l'aune de sa puissance. Il est un corps tout entier. Il est tous les corps, il est seul contre tous. Il est souverain.
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