tears of a meatprod
I don’t blog to be liked. I blog as a means of reducing others to mere objects of my will and authority. I also blog because I crave alpha-male status and, at The Confluence, I am not only the sole male front-pager, I am also the only resident clown. On second thought, allow me amend that. I am the only Conflucian, man or woman, who actually wears greasepaint.
I didn’t come here because I was lonely and wanted to make new friends. I started blogging because I am intellectually two-dimensional, with a compulsive need to inflict my egoistic nature on other people, while benefitting from absolute and hypocritical impunity.
I’ve intentionally externalized my obnoxious persona and chosen an ugly homicidal clown as my avatar because I love to indulge in what Alduous Huxley once referred to as “transcendental role-paying,” wherein I may indulge a pathological need for attention without having to take responsibility for the messes I create. Philosophically, I’m a tautologist, and my arguments are daisy chains of naked self-aggrandizement. I don’t want people to like me because they agree with me, I want them to agree with me despite the fact that I’m a shallow sexist asshole.
If Person A says 2 + 2 = 4 and Person B says 2 + 2 = 3 then I will say that Person A will most likely enjoy having my meatprod shoved down her throat and that Person B is most likely in a constant state of sobbing, reasoning that Person A is a cute little Wiccan and Person B is mentally ill former PUMA who thinks she’s Wonder Woman. And I’m not going to change my position even if all my other friends side with Person B. It’s not about how I feel about Person A or Person B, it’s that I am an insufferable paranoid douche bag who enjoys dressing up like the clown I suspect that most women have always believed me to be.
I’m not claiming to be infallible but if I have to choose between being right and being liked then I will forever remain a poster clown for Jung’s observation that ”that which has not been resolved, gets projected.”
I can live with that.
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May 5, 2009 at 1:57 pm
First page!
May 5, 2009 at 2:07 pm
You need some clown porn.
May 5, 2009 at 4:52 pm
I don’t know what to say about this.
May 5, 2009 at 5:52 pm
Clown porn, clown shoes, a clown painting hanging on the wall, sad clowns, mad clowns, happy clowns and clowns with fish on their heads. And what about the immortal “Clown Car?”
May 5, 2009 at 5:54 pm
I like the part about shoving meatprods. Great stuff! Keep up the good work!
May 6, 2009 at 12:15 am
Vagina – not a clown car.
May 31, 2009 at 4:19 am
You don’t have to look any further than this jerk’s avatar to know he squirts in his Spider-Man Huggies before the salad arrives.
May 31, 2009 at 6:59 am
Most sagaciously put, good Sir Renfield. Welcome to the Prod’s home turf.