Violate guest right at your peril

The Fable of the Ducks and the Hens


This pleased the flock of ducks because
It gratified their pride.
But hear my tale and learn how they
Got taken for a ride.

The ducks, it seemed, spent all their time
In fixing up the place;
In growing food and building homes
And cleaning every space.


And so these hens began to teach 
The baby ducks and chicks. 
They traded food and eggs and things,
With many clever tricks.

…In Duckville’s church, on Sunday morn,
The preacher spoke these words:
“Discrimination’s got to stop!
Remember, we’re all birds!”


Let swimmers swim, let hoppers hop,
Let each go his own way
Let none coerce a fellow bird!”

Was what he had to say.

“’Twas wrong to force the hens to swim,
So here’s the problem’s crux:
It’s just as bad for hens to try
To CHICKENIZE our ducks!”

Emotional blackmail between groups.

When the hens began to spoil the young
And Gooseville’s laws to flout,
The geese rose up in righteous wrath
And simply threw them out.

Punish corruption of the young. People keep missing this crime.

R-types cannot survive alone, they must attach to other groups.

They formed a council of the hens—
“UNITED BIRDS” the name.
The other birds who joined the thing
Did not perceive the game.

They took a vote amongst themselves,
And every one approved!
“Swanville was for hens!” they said,
“Way back, before we moved!”


This epic has no end because
No matter how you fight ’em,
Those HENS will show up EVERY TIME
— And so ad infinitum!

In birds perhaps, but man makes machines. Pity the only people with money are the enemy and buy the designs…. coincidence.

The first problem is that the ducks keep talking to them, trying to negotiate and telegraphing their moves. Do not engage. When they get you to talk, like a cars salesman, they win. It’s an opening. It treats them as an equal. It’s weakness. They’ll move on if met with stonewalling then you can get them from the back. Scarier to an r-type than an angered response (weak emotional control) is a neutral, unreadable wall. Narcs need to read your reaction, if there’s no speech, your face. Yes, the politely smiling kid. This is why they freaked. The English succeeded for this reason with a ‘stiff upper lip’ called RBF by Americans.

That’s rookie tier, you must look bored and vaguely disgusted. That’s how you spot the English abroad. It also triggers any vaguely left-leaning person around, at which point you flicker astonishment and shock with amusement. This is intentional and cultural.

The seed is strong in some American stock.

shock with amusement, click

Other races do not do this. Darwin studied facial expressions.

TV hides this by cutting away from it, pay attention.

In addition to the classic “I smell peasant”

bored and vaguely disgusted, click like a mask

We English know for a fact that idiots respond more to your face than what you say. Anything you say.

This is why our actors are preferred over Americans, practice.

Other groups cannot do this, they look slow.

Second problem – allow youth to be corrupted.

Third – triangulation.


Fucked-up Fairytales: How ruin came to Johannesburg

A fragment from a blog of a Russian man who went on a business trip to South Africa, translated for your convenience.

Me and my friend had to spend roughly 10 hours in Johannesburg. We asked Mikhail and he convinced some kamikaze driver to take us on a tour through the city center. We, the two retards, thought that they were exaggerating about the danger just to frighten us. We thought that we’d get to the center, take a long good stroll through it and show everyone that Russians aren’t afraid of anything.

We ended up not even coming close to doing any of these things.


We nearly shat ourselves….

It’s brutal redpill. It’s a pure crimson, with a strong bitterness.
It terrifies Russians.

shock horror wtf omg no denial signs

I had to. It also applies to the Calais crisis.

this is our home now

And then there’s a taste of that resource restriction AC keeps warning us about;

The hunters (May-May) asked food at the woman of Chef Kitumba. The women told they did not have food. The hunters then demanded that they roast their children for them to eat. source

Fables from the banking sector

The Walrus and the Carpenter or The Story of the Curious Oysters

The sun was shining on the sea, 
   Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make 
   The billows smooth and bright-- 
And this was odd, because it was
   The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily, 
   Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there 
   After the day was done-- 
“It’s very rude of him," she said,
   “To come and spoil the fun!”

The sea was wet as wet could be, 
   The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud because 
   No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead-- 
   There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter 
   Were walking close at hand:
They wept like anything to see 
   Such quantities of sand:
“If this were only cleared away," 
   They said, “it would be grand!”

“If seven maids with seven mops 
   Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose," the Walrus said, 
   “That they could get it clear?”
“I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
   And shed a bitter tear.

“0 Oysters, come and walk with us!” 
   The Walrus did beseech.
“A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk, 
   Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four, 
   To give a hand to each.”

The eldest Oyster looked at him, 
   But never a word he said;
The eldest Oyster winked his eye, 
   And shook his heavy head-- 
Meaning to say he did not choose 
   To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up, 
   All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed, 
   Their shoes were clean and neat-- 
And this was odd, because, you know, 
   They hadn’t any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them, 
   And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last, 
   And more and more and more-- 
All hopping through the frothy waves, 
   And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
   Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
   Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood 
   And waited in a row.

“The time has come," the Walrus said, 
   “To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
   Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot-- 
   And whether pigs have wings.”

“But wait a bit," the Oysters cried, 
   “Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath, 
   And all of us are fat!”
“No hurry!” said the Carpenter. 
   They thanked him much for that.

“A loaf of bread," the Walrus said, 
   “Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
   Are very good indeed--
Now, if you’re ready, Oysters dear, 
   We can begin to feed.”

“But not on us!” the Oysters cried, 
   Turning a little blue.
“After such kindness, that would be 
   A dismal thing to do!”
“The night is fine," the Walrus said, 
   “Do you admire the view?

“It was so kind of you to come! 
   And you are very nice!”
The Carpenter said nothing but 
   “Cut us another slice.
I wish you were not quite so deaf-- 
   I’ve had to ask you twice!”

“It seems a shame," the Walrus said, 
   “To play them such a trick.
After we’ve brought them out so far, 
   And made them trot so quick!”
The Carpenter said nothing but 
   “The butter’s spread too thick!”

“I weep for you," the Walrus said:
   “I deeply sympathize.”
With sobs and tears he sorted out 
   Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief 
   Before his streaming eyes.

“0 Oysters," said the Carpenter, 
   “You’ve had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?” 
   But answer came there none-- 
And this was scarcely odd, because
   They’d eaten every one.