Archive for February, 2015

Vaccines AGAIN!

You know, I have a schedule.
Monday and Thursday – Story parts, Friday – Blurps/Comedy. I write these bits days, weeks and sometimes months in advance, so I won’t end up with NO post one day.
So, as I’ve said, I have a schedule…

And YOU short sighted, pro-disease, pro-death, spinach milkshake, homoepathy hippie dipshits keep frakking it up!

Some idiot antivaxxer chick equated herself to the jews in Nazi Germany and now ALL the antivaxxers are picking up that rhetoric.
Insulting the victims of the holocaust.
Insulting the survivors.
And insulting the pro-vaccine, science and evidence based, responsible and social people.

No we don’t want you to wear a badge. … Although, we can stay away from you if we have infants not yet vaccinated, or people who are immune supressed, if we can identify you asocial parasitic virus dispensers.
Thanks for the idea.
However, we don’t want you segregated to your own camps. … Although, if you all catch measles (or the likes) and die from it in droves, the problem might solve itself, as the survivors, after witnessing a few horrific deaths, will line up for vaccinations around the block.
Again, thanks for the input.

All joking aside.
Are you people brave (or sane) enough to stop for just a moment and examine you own rhetoric?

It comes accross as desperate.
As if you ran out of arguments – which you did. And as disrespectful, as if younhad no idea what you’re talking about – which seems to be the case.

Look, I don’t mean to be beating a dead horse, but flogging that carcass is damn fun. Do you realise that we – mankind – have successfully eliminated a disease with vaccines?
It’s true, look it up.
Small Pox. From 1966 to 1980 a combination of surveillance, preventive measures and VACCINES eliminated the wild virus of small pox. (It can still be found in weaponised form in various labs around the globe, I’m sure.)

We could’ve done that with measles too.

Measles are NOT benefitial for development, or the benign inconvenience you make it out to be. They are a menace to health and life. People got blind, deaf, had braindamage, developed lung problems, or died years later thanks to SSPE – which comes from the measles virus.
Sure, a lot pf people get out of just fine (nowadays), otherwise the measles would’ve wiped us out by now, but it IS a dangerous virus. Period. Why else do you think your great grandmother had eight siblings, six of which she forgot the names of? Because havong a crapton of babies was a necessity, because most of them died!

All your claims of vaccines being dangerous are preposterous, maniacal, borderline insane, completely uninformed, inaccurate, and quite frankly, dangerous.
We as a society, would’ve never allowed or accepted a cure/prevention for a malicious, often deadly disease, that is MORE dangerous, than the disease it is designed to proteft against.
We would’ve returned to the laboratory, and started over.

No one wants to tag you, put you in a Ghetto. We just want you to understand how wrong you are. Feeling and intuition is worth nothing, when you have scientific data.
Vaccines work.

Next time you fish slap dance participants go and “do research”, google this “Vaccines success”, or “Vaccines benefits” instead of dangers, and toxins – the latter are not there btw.

Take care, and don’t start another idiotic attack wave!

Floral/Fungal Journal – 4 Light (ep6)

His skin color was a mixture between pitch black and ash-grey.”Adept!” Phyllis leaned over the handrails, the young man turned around after he had twitched in shocked surprise. “Come up here!” she ordered in her usual way. “Yes master!” he replied saluting and hurried off. Moments later Phyllis opened tge doors to the rooftop garden for him. “Name?” she stood him up straight. “Ghanus of the spook hills.” Phyllis heart stopped for a moment. Last names in the empire were given after the place where the younglings grew up. Spook hills was the school that Gajus and she had went to years before. “Age?” she couldn’t recall exactly how long ago it had been. Was it twenty? Twenty-two? Less than twenty?

“Twenty-one! I just started in the citadel this season.” with military accuracy and discipline the young fungal didn’t look at her but kept staring straight. “Whom were you calling out to?”

Phyllis could observe that the young man felt thunderstruck, but tried to not show it, he inhaled violently, tried to find an excuse.

“Adept?” Phyllis walked away from the doors. “Close those doors will you?”

Satisfied at the sound of the closed doors she waved him to the far end of the rooftop garden. Perhaps, she thought, it had happened twenty-one years ago. “Again Adept, whom were you calling out to?” Phyllis sat down at her favorite spot, right in front of the two florals. She was curious at his reactions to the two. Displaying extraordinary discipline again, Ghanus didn’t twitch, he glanced at the two from the corner of his eyes, but maintained his stance.

“I would prefer not to answer that question Master.” was Ghanus’ stern reply. Phyllis was amused at his polite and acceptable reply, but she had a hunch that she had to follow. “At ease adept.” she finally released him from his stiff composure.

“I think, young Ghanus, that you heard a whispering voice, and if I am right, not for the first time in your life. Am I correct?”

Ghanus’ facial expression twitched. She could clearly see his resistance to talk about the delicate matter melt away behind the stern facade erected by his upbringing. “How do you know?” finally breaking the awkward silence.

As his inhibitions had molten away, so was Phyllis’ smile. “Because I hear that whispering voice as well. I have heard it for what feels like ages. A constant companion in my dreams, it murmurs away in the background, sometimes barely noticeable, sometimes as if the voice hissed directly in my ear. Today I’ve heard it for the first time while being awake, until it suddenly disappeared.” Slowly losing his composure Ghanus looked around the garden, scanning mechanically the area for a seat.

Upon Phyllis offer he sat down beside her.

The two stared for some time at some points in the distance. “Why?” he finally lifted his gaze staring at the floral before them, he got up and marched toward her, lifting her head with one finger by the chin. “Why do we hear that whispering voice?” he completed his question, relieving Phyllis of her worries he might question the validity of the treatment the Florals received. Disdain in his eyes he studied the face before his, letting go of her chin he wiped the finger on the rack that the floral was mounted upon. “I don’t know, normally you don’t go around ask others if they hear a strange whispering voice that might just be your own mind losing sanity.” Phyllis also got up and wandered to the Floral Ghanus was standing in front of. “But now that I know it is not a figment of my imagination, and that you know the same, we can work together to discover the true meaning of the voice.” Ghanus looked at her with his eyebrows raised as to question how they should work on that subject. His doubting face let Phyllis blood run cold.

It was the same doubting expression that Gajus made. “I will request you as my pupil.” she stated dryly, turning away again. Normally a master who had a pupil finish the training had a few months off to get the habits of the old pupil out of his mind, unless the master request a new one sooner than that. “With all due respect, Master, how do you expect to convince the magistrates that I am fit to be taught by someone of your finesse?” Phyllis turned around, a flame shot out of her hand, transforming into a mushroom a flames danced on her palm, next thing Ghanus saw was her disappearing together with the fire. Out of nowhere a dancing female figure of fire and flame appeared where Phyllis had been standing, “Do you think you can recreate it?” surprised Ghanus turned around to find Phyllis behind himself.

Floral/Fungal Journal – 4 Light (ep5)

Disappointment was written all over Phyllis’ face as she sat in the dining hall at the breakfast table, her bread lying in front of her, next to it a small pot of spook-mushroom, steaming clouds rose from the bowl as the gas filled parts of the mushroom would in early spring.

No whispers, no voice.

Only so distant that she was not aware of its presence. “Why the long face Phyl?” Gajus leaned over, the smell of spook-mushrooms on his breath. “Slept unwell Gaj.” she replied tearing her thoughts away from the whispering voice that she had not heard in her dreams. Gajus and Phyllis knew each other from childhood, they had grown up in the flock. Went to the citadel together.

Somewhere out there was a young Fungal, bearing both their heritage onwards. Neither knew whether it was a boy or a girl. Originally they had intended to gift the empire with more children, but since she had risen above him in the hierarchy their relationship crumbled. What once had been love cooled down to a distant friendship. “Hearing those voices again?”

“Its only one voice, silently hissing away in whispers!” she smirked, “And not I hadn’t heard it, which is why I slept unwell.”

Gajus nodded, his eyebrows raised.

“You should talk to one of the counselors. Even though it may be just one whispering voice, I doubt its sane.” he winked to slightly annoyed Phyllis.

Yet another reason why they drifted apart, he constantly talked as if she was crazy. Phyllis wasn’t in a talkative mood. But sometimes she longed for the days of old, a week after Crysallis had left she even had him on the rooftop, it had felt almost as if the days of old were returning.


“I heard your lecture yesterday.” Gajus changed the topic, common practice for the ashgrey man. Only if his conversation partner was uncomfortable with a topic though.

“What about it?”

Gajus leaned back smirking. “Nothing! I enjoy your lectures, even if they make most of conjurers inferior to you and your apprentices.”

Sighing she broke off a piece of bread, dunked it in the soup and ate. “The old sermon? Yes, I still think there are two different types of conjurers, the weaker being more common, the gifted being a rare breed.” she wrinkled her forehead and smiled gently. “But that is irrelevant. What counts is our commitment to the great fungus.”

Distant whispers from a single voice.

Again Gajus raised his eyebrows, nodding in agreement. The words that left his mouth never reached Phyllis’ mind, she was concentrated on the whispering voice. It was odd to hear it as dominant as she did, since it usually blended with the background, and normally occurred in dreams.

“I am dreadfully sorry Gaj, but I must depart!” she left her half eaten breakfast and hurried to her rooftop garden. Although itvwas accessible to most of the high ranking conjurers in the citadel, and even more so to her superiors, not many people dared to disturb her peace, turning effectively into her rooftop garden.

“Who are you?” the whispering seized not to let her speak. Distraught at her obvious signs of insanity the two Florals exchange a glance of panic, fearing to be further mutilated by Phyllis. Death would be more a reward than a punishment.

Sometimes they envied their sisters on the farms Phyllis had told them about. Being left in worse conditions, and much less care the Florals tbere quickly drifted into a comatose state. “Are you really a figment of my imagination? If not seize whispering.” Silence.

A feeling of confirmation took a hold of her mind. “What do you want, who ever you are?” Blending with the Background she noticed tge whispering voice once again, but much clear as before. “Why do leave me?” Phyllis looked around. She was alone on the rooftop, she couldn’t tell where the cried inquiry came from. Curiously she rushed to the edge of the rooftop garden. On the eastern rooftop garden a few storeys below her, wad an adept.

Life ain’t that hard: Vaccinate!


There shouldn’t be anything past the title. No further sentence, no paragraph, no lengthy post.

But we live in a time and age where one can say “I don trust dem Doctars wit dem ears of study.” and read some made up bullcrap by populist pseudo specialists, and wanna be herbalists and naturalists.

Don’t any of you start posting here. I will not approve any replies.

First of, let us get a few things out of the way:
1. It is not better hygiene and clean water that eradicated/diminished diseases. If that were the case, all the diseases we have vaccines against, would’ve been eradicated/diminished all at once, not shortly after their vaccines got introduced into the system.
1.5. don’t even draw breath to say “Polio” in front of your screens. Think of Iron Lungs and shut up.
2. If you accuse doctors and medical caretakers and mainstream media of being biased and having an agenda, directed by “Big pHARMa”, did you ever stop to think about the possibility that your sources of information might also be biased and have an agenda? Might they be pushing you some herbalist crap, or worse homeopathic remedies? (Homeopathic remedies, take some massively diluted stuff, mix it with common water and sugar, sell it. For 300 times the costs!)
3. Big pHARMa. As far as it does exist, yes they have hatched a diabolical plan to ensure we keep throwing money down their throats: They’re making us live longer.
Before pharmaceutical products made living easy for us, life expectancy in the late 19th century in Europe was at about 42 years. Then vaccines got introduced and more and more, together with hygiene and clean water (I give you that), life expectancy rose. Steadily.
Who needs the most pills and treatments? The elderly. Those who, according to nature’s evil plans, should not be alive! Those with chronic disease, who should be killed off by some virus because their immune system is too weak or preoccupied (allergics, like yours-truly, for example).
Thanks to big pharma, they all live longer than nature ever intended for them to live. And due to that, the pharmaceutical industry, ensures we keep paying.
4. Stop linking what isn’t linked. If i drink hard liquor, and soda, i could accuse the soda of causing the hangover the next morning. Scientists have not nailed down what causes autism, but they ruled out one suspect: Vaccines.
5. Google the term “Parasite”, then you know exactly what I think you are. You claim to know what herd immunity is (when everyone around a certain vulnerable individual, is immune to a disease. The individual that is vulnerable might be endangered due to diminished immune capabilities after a transplantation, chemo therapy, etc., or simply because it is too young to be either vaccinated or otherwise immunised), so when you stay/keep yourself/your child unvaccinated, you are a parasite (or forcing a parasitic lifestyle on your kid), basking in the relative safety of herd immunity, while not participating in maintaining said immunity.
5.5. There is no shedding. And even if there was, why are you so afraid of it? You want natural immunity, if shedding truly existed, it’d be natural.
Listen you numbskulls, living virus vaccinations are attacked by the immune system way before the virus could replicate enough to be transmitted. That’s why we vaccinate! If shedding worked, we’d just need ONE vaccine every generation, and then it spreads through shedding. Since it doesn’t, shedding is not real you parasite.
6. Mercury. Aluminium. Formaldehyde. Learn the difference between “ethyl” and “methyl”. (Yes, this time it’s my turn to say it!)
6.5. While on the subject of chemistry. Do you scientific illiterates ever really go and do some of your treasured research? Colloidal silver? Really? It accumulates and turns into a smurf. That is it. MMS? It’s frigging bleach! The sort ypu use tp make chicken carcasses clean! BLEACH! Stop giving your kids enemas with BLEACH (=an acid!)!!
7. Viruses, or Viri, exist. I can’t stress this enough, so let me repeat it in bold: Viruses, or Viri, do exist. Got it?
There is no debate whether they exist, or not.
They do.
It is proven. Saying that Viruses do not exist is like saying there is no climate change, or the earth is the center of the solar system, the milkyway, the universe, and it is flat like a Pizza, and the Antarctic is an enormous ice shield on the edge. Viruses do exist. Period!
7.5. Morgellons do not exist. Neither do Unicorns, dragons, fairies and pixie dust.
8. You can’t force a vaccine out of a body once it is injected. If you have a “healer” in your circle of acquaintances who claims he can, go to my Christmas Calendars, you’ll find an adequate gift for them there.
8.5. If you accept advice on vaccines from anyone but a professional medical person, like a doctor (nurses are highly trained, but they have NOT studied medicine, so they are not qualified for this task) ask yourself: Am I being prepared for a push sale of an alternate product? What is this individuals gain, Agenda or general motivation? Did s/he study medicine for several years, do real research with peer reviews, do anything other than google stuff?
If you come to any negative or shady conclusion, ask someone else.

That’s about it. So here my last suggestion for you root nibblers:
I’m not kidding. This is real, get vaccinated, I hate these parasites of society that are not vaccinating because their herbalist tells them it is bad and some shady doc (who got his title and license revoked!) claimed it causes autism which it doesn’t.
Get yourself, your kids and entire family vaccinated, yes there might be effects against the injection.
A little feverish, for a day, but better than a lot of fever for a week with potentially lethal outcomes.

Get vaccinated!


a cleric about how the real world works, is like asking a pastry chef about the detailed inner workings of a car engine. Chances are, your answer will be less helpful.

A Saudi chap called “Bandar al-Khaibari” allegedly said that the earth is not spinning (or moving), after one of his people had asked him via letter, whether it spins or not. He “proved” it and became the laughing stock of the internet.

A German proverb calls people to stick to their professions. (“Schuster bleib bei deinen Leisten” ~ Shoemaker stick with your [bootstrap] stretcher)
Someone should tell that to clerical people. Catholic clerics have no say in sex or sexuality. Men in general have no say in pregnancies or childbirth.
Non (medical) doctors need to shut up about vaccines and other medical decisions. And so on. (Yes, I am aware of the irony in light of tomorrow’s post…)

Have a nice one,

Floral/Fungal Journal – 4 Light (ep4)

Only one place in Phyllis’ memory looked as the forest and landscape did. Phyllis looked around her chamber, clouded by confusion it took her some time to realize her actual whereabouts. What had taken her from the place in her dream back to the waking world? Someone, somewhere knocked. Phyllis again needed some time to realize that the person knocking wasn’t just somewhere, but outside her door knocking at it. “Enter!” she found herself breathless and drenched in sweat. Hesitantly the door was opened by a uniformed young man she had seen a few times delivering messages. “Serves him right for not studying harder, exercising harder and trying harder, in order to be more than an errant boy.” her thoughts returned to her usual cold, but sharp precision momentarily. “Master Gajus sent me!” he immediately saluted, whilst he turned away as to not disturb her privacy. “He said to see if you were alrightvas you were missed at the breakfast table!” Phyllis jumped to her feet glancing out the window. “I am well, tell that to Gajus!” she barked rushing to the stack of clothes she had prepared for the day. Again the young man sakuted and rushed out of the room as not to anger the conjurer further.Distressed over the fact that she had slept in, something she had not done all her life as far as she could remember, Phyllis made her morning toilet, dressed and left her chamber. Though it was late in the morning she hoped to find some breakfast, even a small pot of steamed spook-mushrooms would suffice. The small mushroom was both a delicacy, and common food. Revered for the fact that it glowed in the darm, and produced floating fruition bodies filled with gas, it grew close to everywhere in the empire, it was valued for its nutrition and taste. The dinibg hall was deserted, except for some adepts sitting in a far corner, studying old texts. Annoyed that she wouldn’t get breakfast she turned on her heel and paced off, rehearsing the lecture she was supposed to give in the afternoon to a bunch of adepts. “Please act as if nothing happened!” a familiar voice hissed, although there were plenty of people around her as she rushed to the market, none of them were close enough to hiss to her so she’d understand their words. “What is it Crysallis?” she replied, hissing as well, still marching to the market with unbroken pace.”The freethinkers are planning to attack the great fungus, I was about to deliver a message to you but you came.” Crysallis was putting into use the last trick Phyllis had taught her. Invisibility.An art that Phyllis had taught to herself from ancient Albin texts left behind after the fungal war.Phyllis directed her steps towards the bake stand she usually bought her bread at, but slowed her pace as the loaves on display were not the kind of bread she preferred. “What am I to do about it?” she whispered. “Inform the magistrates, the citadel needs to be aware and ready to thwart the attack planned.” Crysallis sounded desperate, why she didn’t contact the people who had sent her to her assignment was a mystery to Phyllis, but perhaps she didn’t trust them, the freethinkers movement might run deeper into the organization of the Fungal Empire than Phyllis anticipated. “I will.” she whispered, sensing Crysallis wandering off Phyllis herself looked around the market for a few minutes in order to see whether another bakery had her favorite bread, but returned hungry and empty handed to the citadel. Degraded to a messenger herself she felt a little remorse concerning the errand boy earlier. Time on the rooftop garden was cut short for Phyllis due to her newfound responsibility. The conjurers already at the great mushroom’s fruition body tightened their security, selected individuals had been sent to the site immediately. Individuals that were loyal to the great mushroom and thus could be trusted.

Phyllis had sat down near the two Florals in the chill evening breeze that blew across the city. Clouds crawled over the mountains east of the city as the sun set behind the mountains in the west. “Tomorrow I will return to look after you a bit longer than today.” she knew very well that the two were hoping for the exact opposite, but she enjoyed the mental torment of her two flowers. “Unfortunately we will soon have to bring you indoors, we wouldn’t want you to go into a wintery hibernation that would stop your productivity, now would we?” she patted the breasts of one of the two. “If you excuse me, I will now leave you two to chat,” inhaling in a dramatized shock she held one hand to her mouth. “I forgot. Well, good night, never the less.” she waved tweeted leaving the rooftop garden. Doors locked tightly she strolled to her room, in thought still with the confuse dream, and the hissing voice. Like a guiding light from a lighthouse the whispers lead her through the day and the surprising mission for the spy network. With surprising calm did she navigate through the meetings with the magistrates and the lecture she held.



The voice had not seized whispering in her ear all day!


Phyllis, locked the door, she felt a sudden wave of anxiety rushing through her, just as she rushed to bed, throwing her clothes carelessly in a corner. Never had she felt such anxiety and joy at the prospect of going to bed. Especially not as early on that particular evening. Quickly did she go through the evening prayer to the great fungus. Ever since her earliest Childhood did the evening prayer make her feel as if she was lying down into a nest of fungal filaments, closing around her and protecting her from harm, while making her stronger in her sleep.

Cradled in her mental nest, wrapped into her worldly sheets, she soon found sleep.

Floral/Fungal Journal – 4 Light (ep3)

I have been put into action near the border, somehow the regentry has managed it for me to infiltrate a group of freethinkers! Don’t aske me how, master, for I do not know myself. All I do know is that with every passing moment amongst these people I long to be back in the citadel. Listening to you holding a passionate speech that used to bore me, now seems as desirable as being embraced by the great fungus itself. I miss your elaborations, your sometimes cruel, but necessary lessons in the art. But I have to stay focused on my task, find out their plans, perhaps even partake in a preparation scheme, and undermine them. We suspect there are more groups, or cells as the officers who briefed me called them. Yours truly Crysallis.


Phyllis put the letter down. In the distance she could see the empty patch in the forest, left behind by the forestfires that had raged for weeks after freethinkers crossed the border. The leaves of the trees were slowly turning from green into tones of yellow, red and brown. Behind her she heard the steady breathing of the florals, almost drowned by the howling winds from the east. “Be careful.” she put the message away that Crysallis had somehow managed to send to her. “May the fungus catch you fall, guiding your steps from beneath the earth.” she added even quieter. Although they had not a friendship per se, they had becone ratger close over the years of Crysallis’ training, an unusually long training, but Phyllis had a lot more to teach than others, giving her the opportunity to only teach exceptionally gifted conjurers, thus lengthening the time they stayed in training with her.

It was a moment she felt even more glad to have had the Florals’ mouths sewn tight than at any other given time. A foul comment from any of the two would have sent her into a rage violent enough to kill the valuable Floral. Instead of being mouthed at she paced back insise in between them with a triumphant smirk.


Hissing away in the background, words to diluted by other noise, even the sound of Phyllis own heartbeat, the voice was a constant companion in the dreamworld. Ever present, she grew accustomed to it as if it was the heartbeat. Standing on a twisted version of the rooftop garden Phyllis looked around. Although washed out to the point of consisting of sounds rather than words, the whispering voice seemed stronger. Her teacher, who had died years before, walked towards her. Quickly Phyllis concentrated on the voice, while her mind tried to remember how long she had the ability for lucid dreaming. Greeting her with a simple nod, the man who had instructed her, amongst many other things, also in lucid dreaming, walked by, disappeared.

“Are xou the fungus?” Phyllis’ voice was as distant to her as the whispering voice, although she could make out the words she said herself. Momentarily the voice stopped whispering. Far off in the distance she saw the two Florals from her southern rooftop refuge. “Or a mental infestation contracted from them?” she spat the last word out as if it was poison.

Whispers hissed away again, as if to reply to her inquiries, what the answer meant to say was, however, indecipherable. Phyllis stepped closer to the Florals, shooting by her sides were the plants and fungi growing on her dreamed rooftop garden, that slowly turned into a valley. With one pace she had reached the Florals, previously some twenty meters away. In the melting pot of whispers, wind and her own breath and heartbeat, the voice remained as close, or distant as before. She felt fire melting from her hands, in small drops it fell to the ground, igniting a circle around her and the two florals, whilst the pavement of the rooftop garden had changed into soft grassy ground, the citadel, the entire city even, had disappeared, making way for a dark, vast forest. Filled with trees and tall mushrooms, towering high above herself.


EggFor all the hopeless romantics out there, desperate of bestowing a small defenseless lifeform on their beloved, but who are either unable to make babies happen, or are barred from doing so (by said beloved), there are two choices.
One: give them a real lifeform – not a VD – that might shit all over their home; which would result in any chances with the “beloved” melting away faster than snow thrown into a pit of lava;


Two: give them a small egg of hardened pink plastic with heartshapes. In and off itself already an eye soring cancer growth, one could keep until easter if no beloved is available at Valentines day.
This is actually a remnant of the past. An archaeological “treasure” of electronic vomit inducers.
A Tamagotchi!
Yes, the cutesy, electronic, beeping nerve strain, constantly shitting in its egg, needing food and attention. It’s here for all those hopeless romantics who rub on people in the subway, as a distraction from all the beeping, buzzing, chiming and other electronic insanity that takes places in their pockets…

Nonsensical Bullcrap (Life ain’t that hard: Feminist experiments)

I stumbled upon some uber nonsensical crap.


This was a pseudo-feminist post / tweet that makes me angry. For all the right reasons!
No, I’m not a mysagonist swine. I am all for equality, but equality is not taking the scale that has been askew for countless generations and imbalance it in the other direction. No it is not “your time to rule” now.
It’s time to move past these shitty preconceptions we have. Neither men, nor women, are superior!

The text of the tweet read (I’m not going to post the image, due to eventual copyright claims): “My sister is doing an experiment: Whenever men walk towards her, she doesn’t move out of the way first. So far she has collided with 28 men.” tweeted on 13th December 2014.

I understand what you (or your sister) are trying to say here. That men are ignorant assholes who think women have to get out of the way.
But you’re doing it wrong. The way YOU do it, is proving you wrong!
Proof? In what amount of time has she collided with the alleged number of men? How many women has she run into? Where did she conduct this experiment? At which date(s) and time (s)? etc.

It would be EXACTLY as if some racist scum tweeted “My brother is doing an experiment, when ever a N*##a is approaching, he doesn’t step out of the way. So far he has collided with 28 of ’em!”

See? Exactly the same. I don’t know if the the tweeting individual is banking on the stupidity of her audience, or doesn’t know any better herself, but I think it’s the former. Here’s how to get real data, not your falsified crap:

1.: You need two test-subjects. A man and a woman. Each of average height and build and looks. (To get a “neutral” picture here)
2.: They can not move out of the way, no matter WHO is coming in their direction; Men, Women, Children, Old folks, Cripples, etc. Only exception, the other test subject.
3.: They log their encounters. Men, Women. How many of each bumped into them? Alternatively, a body cam can be used, to prevent the test subjects from intentionally falsifying the data!
4.: To get a clear picture, this needs to be conducted of a statistically significant amount of time: A WHOLE YEAR! Why? If you try this for a week in december, people will mow you down. Stressed, Grumpy, Hasty. “Get outta my way, punk!”
5.: For the duration of the experiment, the location can not be altered! You can’t “test” this during christmas on a busy shopping street, at springbreak in Palm Beach, and so on. No.
ONE location for 365.25 days. PERIOD!

Now, I can imagine why the experiment wasn’t run on these conditions from the start.
It might harm, or even shatter,  your pseudo feminist, man hating world view. Finding out that women out there aren’t any better than men, might hurt you and your imagined problems.

Instead of focusing on a few rounds of “chicken”, work against TRUE inequality.
Thank you for your time, stay strong sisters.

PS: If you (regardless of your gender, age, build, race, ethnicity, religion, etc.) stand in front of the subway/bus/tram/train doors, trying to get IN before letting others get OUT, you deserve to be mowed to the ground!

The narrow minded BS that is spewing out from the feminazi camp is posioning our culture almost as much, if not as much, as mysagony. A brilliant scientist is (helpiung in) landing a tiny space craft on a tiny rock of ice and fluff that is speeding through our solarsystem at incredible velocities, and what do we hear? “Your shirt is sexist and ostracizing”…
I rest my case.
If mankind’s greatest achievements are overshadowed by these people and their opinion (over a shirt designed and made by a woman, who gave it to the scientist in question as a gift, who wore it that day as homage to the woman who gave it to him) then we are doomed. As a species. There is no more room for improvement. What. So. Ever.
This is why we can’t have nice things. HE was made to apologise, HE was crying.
It is the idiots cirtising his choice of apparel who should be sitting there, weeping like little kids and saying sorry.

Did you people hear/read about this?
This self proclaimed feminist (misandrist, if you ask me; or the more modern term “feminazi”) aborted her unborn because it was a boy. No medical issues. She felt ready for a child.
But not a male child.
Some may call it empowerment, or reverse-gendercide. I call it gendercide. Misandrist gendercide.

Do you people REALLY need to know why I take a strong disliking to pseudo feminist bullshit like above? It creates, or at the very least nurtures, individuals who should receive a hysterectomy with a wooden cooking spoon!

Floral/Fungal Journal – 4 Light (ep2)

Phyllis had soon after the speech retreated to a more private environment with Crysallis, the damp, dark chamber beneath the citadel was a room in which pupils were taken to practice their arts, various targets were lined up, but Crysallis was already beyond that point in her education, the two had cleared the room of any obstacles, lined them up at the walls, retreated to opposite sides. “Now.” Phyllis sighed, immediately the ground shook and fire was flung towards her, which the older and wiser fungal thwarted by deflecting them to the shaking ground above which she levitated. As she returned the attack Crysallis also levitated away from the ground that was meant to knock her off her feet, but she rose a patch of ground to use as a shield. In each turn the two women got closer to one another. Ready to smite each other with attacks of a magical origin they stood a mere armslength frome the other. A distinct and sudden knocking at the door interrupted the training of Crysallis. Unnerved Phyllis turned to the door, yelling to the outsider to enter. Without much of a pause a young man in plain uniform entered and handed her a scroll, saluted, turned and left. Still with an annoyed look upon her face she opened the roll and read over the lines scribbled onto the parchment. “Congratulations Crysallis.” she murmured, reading through the message a second time. “Because they are unhappy with the time it takes me to teach you all of my secrets you are to be tried and put into service as soon as possible.” she turned to the stunned younger woman. “I think your training is incomplete, but they wouldn’t care for that.” she mustered the young woman from head to toe, there was judgment in her eyes. “One last thing I want to teach you.” she sighed, raising her eyebrows. “As long as you will practice what I thought you will become better, and I can live with the fact that they put you into action.” hoping that her pupil would bring glory to the fungus and the fungal guards she turned to close the door, locking it so that the always curious eyes and ears of other pupils wouldn’t take away the secrets she had to teach, and apply them with less trained minds. A slight breeze blew over the rooftop gardens of the citadel, the southern garden was drenched in sunlight, lying higher up than any other rooftop garden it was impossible to spy upon. Phyllis opened the doors, leading Crysallis outside, locking the doors behind them again. Her pupil was still in festive robes, as her trial had been conducted the last two days and night. Overly tired and exhausted the young woman was glad to be taken to the peaceful refuge of the rooftop, albeit one she had never been on before. “I congratulate you again.” Phyllis sat down on a wooden bench, staring off into the distance whilst Crysalis sat down as well. A moment of silenc transported each of the two into the realm of thought, a constant meandering hurricane of thoughts and memories: smells, images, texts, sounds, impressions and emotions, a mealstrom that tore the mind into directions well known, and directions unseen before. “You’re probably asking yourself why I took you up here.” Phyllis allowed herself to return from that storm of thought. Hearing the voice of her former teacher Crysallis had to work hard to follow that lighthouse back to where she had trailed off. “A little, yes.” Phyllis got up and straightened her clothes, waving her former pupil with her. The path left for wandering around on the rooftop described an S-form, concealing further out parts from any visitor standing at the door, or all too curious eyes beyond it. “The source of our power.” she pushed aside the soft long leaves of a plant in their way, Revealing to Crysallis two floral women fixed on a stretcher, their hands had been removed, the wounds cauterized. For a moment Crysallis inched away, but regained her posture, not to show any weakness in front of Phyllis, after all, her presence on the rooftop could’ve still been part of her test. A wave of relief went through her as she noticed that Phyllis wasn’t watching her but delighted in the sight before them. “Florals. They thought they could withhold the Mana from us.” with a glint of distaste in her eyes Phyllis wandered in front of the semi conscious floral to their right. Crysallis followed reluctantly. There had been rumors of the treatment the Florals received in the farms. Their maiming, a necessity as it was claimed so that they couldn’t harm the ones who watched over them. Crysallis felt her stomach churn, but fought her ill feeling. “Their mouths have been sewn shut.” Crysallis hoped not to sound ill or whimpering. “When we brought them here a few months ago, they were lively and talkative, screaming for help. I didn’t want them to disturb the peace and quite of the citadel, so I had them silenced.” Phyllis marveled at her idea with pride. “Now they have quieted down of course, sucking up nutrition from below, providing Mana to those in need. Aren’t you my little flowers?” she held the face of the floral before in her hand. Crysallis could’ve sworn to see both disgust and utter hatred in Phyllis’ eyes. Sensing the inquisitive look from Crysallis she turned to her former pupil. “Would the appletree try to run, fight and deny us the fruit we not only crave but desperately need, we wouldn’t treat it any different!” she explained letting go of the maimed floral. “I don’t mind the way they are treated,” Crysallis was uncertain whether she herself lied or not, “but I don’t want to see them. The general raising my lot put it nicely: ‘I enjoy meat, eat it whenever I can lay my hands on some, but killing an animal I cared for, I tended to, maybe even raised? Couldn’t do it!'” she turned, glancing the other floral up and down, both had dark hair, although she had heard of their leaf like hair, changing with the seasons. “It turns black in captivity.” Phyllis explained dryly as she noticed Crysallis studying the hair of the two. “Too bad, they would be like pretty flowers in my garden.” she added to bridge the awkward pause that had ensued.Feeling a part of herself, she didn’t know she had, die, Crysallis nodded, turning back to her former teacher, with a smile “Indeed, they would be.” Observing the play of shadows on the Florals bodies, Phyllis sat near the edge of the rooftop garden. The sun settled in the west, left to her, while shadows slowly crept across the floor, climbing up her two captives. Dancing, as the leaves of nearby plants danced in the wind, across their bodies, their exposed skin, deeply saturated by the sun light. “In some respect I envy you.” she reached for some wine. “As I watch your bodies, firm and sunshot, I realize that you can actually have something that I can not.” sipping from her glass she leaned back. “Lust and sexual satisfaction.” she mumbled. Staring at them again. Though she often had compared her physique with that of the Florals delivered to her, finding similarities as the bosom, and generally the shape, she found more differences than similarities. “You know, we germinate in the ground, our males fertilize our germination in the ground. Though some of them have begun discovering lust, we haven’t.” she referred to her fellow female fungals. Disgruntled she leaned forward to them, studying their feverish eyes. “I hate you so much.”, sip, “Not just for that difference, but so many more. You are a pathetic race, all of the other races. Incapable of reason, your insane shortsightedness has somehow infected us, ever since the Albin attempted to murder the great fungus.”, sip, Phyllis inched around in her chair. Suddenly she felt an itch all over her skin, almost as if the ways she talked about to her Florals were trying to infect her. “Not long though.” she pointed at her muted audience. “We will reawaken the fungus, reign in our lost brethren, before we conquer the entire world, enslaving your pathetic little race, to be harvested as we please.” Phyllis paced towards them, again reaching for the face of one of them. “Sweet dreams!” she hissed, with an amused smile she was recognizing the thick tears slowly rolling down their faces.