Dear Mongrel on a Mission I mean Research Topic,
You utter mongrel. I mentioned that already. I’m gonna go ahead and mention it again. Do you have the faintest fucking inkling of what you have put me through. Seriously though. Okay the stuff in objective reality, that’s a horrorshow. Read Stannard’s American Holocaust and tell me Slayer doesn’t sound a bit #relevantcontent while your mind stops reeling. That’s just the 16 million luckless bastards my cultural forebears didn’t kidnap for a nice game of Let’s See if You Survive the Atlantic Long Enough to Be Sold at a %1600 Percent Profit Kaching Did You Know Black People Are Natural Slaves Ask Aristotle.
So let’s talk about subjective reality then, numbnuts. Like my own isn’t scramble-eggs-meets-paranoid-schizophrenic-internal -dialogue-bargaining-with-demons -in-charge subjectivity isn’t enough weight to carry, let’s throw some modern ideology after 1942 into the mix. Oh you have to leave your phone at the desk when you check into the funny farm, shit. Oh well think of the psych ward as everyone on Facebook in lived reality maybe, but without the internet in the way. Put an internet between everyone in the psych ward and as if by magic you’ll be surrounded by go-getters and winners. The universe flips an internet back and forth out of existence, and you watch people magically change from one to the other, winners to psych ward patients and back again, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Oh yeah and the European Civilising Mission was intended presumably for the 10% or so of the at least 60 million Indigenous Americans (probably a lot fucking more) who survived European Colonisation. We attempt to improve those we don’t slaughter, thanks for the hemisphere.
For period about 1492-1650, the psych ward again seems like a pretty good metaphor. In the psych ward I saw evidence of a soulless, brutal atrocity from domesticity (is it still an atrocity if you can cover it with clothes from one end of the body to the other? Did Jesus weep for the souls of victim and perpetrator alike in that lurching paroxym of atavistic regression into psychotic oblivion and intimate terrorism, and the attempted destruction of a human being inside and out. I would wager so). Apparently this atrocity was a favour to the victim, a bit like the European Civilising MIssion. And you should like just be like, oh yeah, this is all cool and normal, someone having the living shit beaten out of them until they have Lucifer’s Panda Spots covering their body must be some kind of monstrous aberration. We would never dream of running that Tough Love line trying to reconstruct the harms of us being selfish and manipulative as a favour to help people build character by smashing them first as, like, government policy.
So yeah nutsack, you throw this shit in my lap knowing historians don’t have the luxury of pretending history doesn’t exist to do laughable academic scholarship that carries weight as long as neoliberal groupthink and the mentality that the proof of prior assumptions is the number of people who share them are able to purge ideological nonconformists and get away with it. Yeah thanks. Hey you know what would have been novel and potentially advantageous to my personal growth and wellbeing, numbnuts? Having a life outside of or beyond oh apparently I have the book smarts to approach a research topic like the ideological roots of the climate emergency, I’m sure it won’t be like a landmine that goes off every time I go near every academic who is balls-deep in them, I’m sure that won’t precipitate my downfall. Ha imagine that. Maybe next life innit.dream
Oh yeah and I was just about to shunt you off into a back corner of my mind to collect dust, and like knowing you were being relegated to the scrapheap, you came back around with stuff that made so much fit. You fucking cunt. I still don’t want to know you.
TBC nutsack
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