Tiffany Skylar Johnston / Zoey Willow / aumiist / emoboyfucker69 / mitsuwah / dollienarc / mitsufan / Splatinist / xKiwifarmjoshx (and many more) - "3rd generation Florida man", Delusional Mitsuba Sousuke spammer, 2edgy4u emo fujoshi, Oversharing autist, Sockpuppet hydra, Grimy worm-infested zoo animal, Crackpot schizo, Genuine Cautionary Tale About Childhood Internet Usage, Objectfucker

[twinArmageddons]

Talbott as well, but he doesn't do much of anything anymore, except spam stickers on socks that last 30 minutes long before they eventually get wiped

i skimmed through the talbott thread what is his obsession with zoey or smth

 

[RCRA/CERCLA/GOONER]

i skimmed through the talbott thread what is his obsession with zoey or smth

Zoey started to fuck with talbot with socks and talbot just never let it go

 

[Dizzyuntildeath]

Zoey started to fuck with talbot with socks and talbot just never let it go

Imagine getting outplayed by Tiffany. That's no coming back territory.

 

[Shine-369]

Imagine getting outplayed by Tiffany. That's no coming back territory.

Pretty sure she got one over on Claudio too.

 

[Balanced Boomer]

Really, you pretty much  have to at least have some subclinical Autistic traits to be interested enough in Internet drama to post here, so that checks out.

I originally signed up because I wanted to yell at a dumb retard from the KickVic saga, who was active in his own thread, and call him a shoe-eating nigger. That's when I discovered I should be playing with trains.

 

[Dizzyuntildeath]

I originally signed up because I wanted to yell at a dumb retard from the KickVic saga, who was active in his own thread, and call him a shoe-eating nigger. That's when I discovered I should be playing with trains.

lolcows are an acceptable substitute.

 

[Unknown God]

She's banned until the 10th for threatening to stick a pipe bomb up Trombonista's throat.

Pretty sure the jannies are more annoyed by her intentionally breaking all rules of basic courtesy, like declaring she has a God-given right to double post or how she keeps gratuitously tagging every mod she knows just to be annoying. This is what will eventually be her undoing.

 

[Bothriolepis]

She's working with dull tools. Her insults are usually death related or suck on my X.

It's really sad how some people fail to grasp the power of an amygdala that spent its formative years lit up a Christmas Tree in Hell until all the bulbs burnt out.

A person is a structure, a complex architecture of identities crafted in a sort of spontaneous, organic, and imminently vernacular design language by the multitude of mostly amateur architects who compose their society. With a human being, though, what is impossible in the design of any material building made from wood, stone, glass, reinforced concrete, etc. becomes a possibility through sheer force of ontological inertia. A Modernist house in the Adirondacks, a New Formalist office tower in Omaha's Central Business District, a 17th century schoolhouse in Coastal Massachusetts that follows the contours of the land, and the Futurist headquarters for the Partito Nazionale Fascista in Rome all share one point in common - a Center. No structure designed intentionally is capable of lacking the Center. It is both within the structure itself and outside of it, in the thoughts of its creator(s), and it serves both to limit the Play of the structure and, in providing limitations, to enable it. No functionality however obscure, no design language however experimental or natutal in origin, can conceive of a building lacking a Center.

In a person, too, the Center serves to anchor cognitive structures, limiting play and thereby enabling it. For the person, however, a Center need not exist. The subjectivity of a structure with personhood destroys any necessary connection between the Center as it exists outside, in the minds of the multitude of haphazard architects charged with the task of construction, and the concept of a Center within the structure itself. Subjectivity, in fact, annihilates all hope of a perfect doubling between any of these multitudinous external Centers and the possibility of a Center that exists within. The  possibility of a Center. That phrase bears repeating, because it implies the inconceivable. Possibility implies a possibility of absence, and there we are led beyond language to the truly inconceivable. A structure where Play is infinite, undefined, and therefore non-existent. Play begins in childhood and continues throughout life, which has the quality of a game with no externally defined objective, and in defining structure builds a blueprint that can be comprehended and viewed both inside and out. Possibly a structure too large to witness in a single way, as in the case of a person, but a structure with rules and regularity, or with rules governing an established lack of regularity. Where no Play exists, the structure is without either regularity or irregularity, no goal or meaning presents itself. External Center is sought out, but subjectivity inevitably cuts the lines of supply. Unlike a material structure, a person may lack a true Center, and there we approach what the Greeks named Χαος, the Hawai'ians, Pōwehi, the boundless, unformed dark. That place from which, in mythology, creation once sprang, destroying the creative principle by Centering its Play.

It is to that second term that I will now return, Pōwehi. Χαος and Pōwehi are not exactly the same, and here the Greeks with all of their literature and rhetoric failed to capture something that became readily apparent to the Austronesian peoples. Pōwehi is not simply an uncreated, formless dark. It is that space, ornamented in the accoutrements of power restricted by sumptuary laws to the person of the monarch. These symbols in material form are simply an imitation, a symbol for the awful (or, rather awe-ful) power that the state itself could only reflect as natural things reflect Plato's forms.

In daily life, the person-structure without a Center will, as I said, seek a Center. In so doing, it sill form a symbolic representation of the Centers forbidden to it by inescapable subjectivity, and that will serve to impose limits without stringency, creating a sort of false Play. This appears as Play and organized structure to those outside, strengthening the external Centers and their representations. All of this is, of course, an attempt to neuter that awe-ful power, because its existence speaks of something else. As a material structure reflects the mind of its human creator, so does a person-structure represent in miniscule, imperfect facsimile, the many minds of its society-creator. Limited by unconscious choice, of course, to represent only some non-exclusive facets of that society, but that occurs only when the Center is present. Here, we find Construction, both social and linguistic. By being centered, the person-structure is forced to choose between exclusive concepts, worldviews, values, mores, verbal definitions, linguistic syntax...without a Center, paradox is created, mores and values exist absent the rules that come with Play, coexisting because they have never been told that they cannot.

The person whose Centers exist only outside the structure, and therefore do not exist at all, is a copy of society whose core (the personal experience, which exists in imitation of the person's place in the society being modeled) is outside the walls of society. Outside the walls of the Πολις. Hellenic philosophy is necessary, again, to speak of this state, for only the poisonous ocean could be outside the Πολις of the Austronesian peoples, and it was death. The Hellenes, however, saw two kinds of creatures that could endure without those boundaries. Beasts, and Gods.

The feral child, deprived of even the image of a Center seen darkly through a glass, represents the first. There is no attempt to seek the Center, no facsimile of Construction that can allow either worldview or language. The Borderline is the modern image of the latter. Here, we find a tragedy. The Gods of the Hellenes were not the first generation of creators who brought order to Χαος. They worked the material provided by, in some myths, a spontaneous sort of formation, engaged in a sort of false Play aware of its own Playfulness and untethered by any restriction. In seeking external Centers, the Borderline, too, engages in false Play. But, as with the Gods, rage may overtake them. Not just rage, with its pitiful implications, but Λυσσα, the madness of the rabid dog.

In Λυσσα, all attempt to find a Center is lost, and the image of Pōwehi appears unmasked. No Construction can look upon the face of this dark divinity and live. With paradoxical mores annihilating one another, the sacred and the anathema become one. Threats given in this state should pay no heed to the limitations of practicality, once the inevitability of consequence is understood and accepted. They gain credibility through sheer force. True linguistic deconstruction becomes possible. Slurs, mingled together and edited to enhance vulgar phonemes, lose the offense granted them by society through sheer force of absurd offense, only to be granted true offense once again by the Λυσσα behind them. A pipe bomb is no longer in an object, in this state. It is a symbolic representation of rage that can transcend both the spatial and the temporal extents of a world without form, engaging in boundless non-existent Play in the unformed dark of Pōwehi, serious in a way that requires nothing but unformed-ness and impossibility to convey its weight.

In failing to demonstrate Λυσσα, and limiting herself to the physically possible (if implausible), Zoey revealed the performative nature of her anger, and the fact that she is indeed playing the sick role. In holding to the taboos of society and deeming all orifices but the throat, an opening that is stripped of its power in Christian-influenced Western society whenever it is being entered rather than left, she revealed her unwillingness to leave behind False Play and embrace the truth of her being.

If she had really been that pissed, I believe that Zoey would have told the object of her rage that she was going to sell her soul to Satan in order to shove that pipebomb up the gaping asshole of time, then up the gaping vagina of their mother, in order to abort their inbred fetus before it could ban her. Then, she would have called them a niggerfaggot, and started crying so hard that no sound came out.

In summary, House of Leaves is a book about Johnny Truant, a man with undiagnosed BPD, splitting on a book because he's still fucked up about his mom. That concludes my thesis statement. Anyone wishing to read the full essay should write to request instructions on where to bury the $50 that I will require to print your copy. I will bury it in the same spot for your retrieval within 48 hours. Its contents will be our secret and I will abuse the fuck out of DMCA takedowns if I see any part of it online, because I'm pretty sure that I actually transcribed the full text of the Necronomicon while trying to be ironic and plagiarizing Derrida. Seriously, this thing might actually be dangerous somehow.

Thank you.

 

[AltisticRight]

Free my nigga Toji

From pipe bomb threats to running people over with shopping carts. That's a major escalation.
What's next? @janny im gvnna sivck a nuk up yuor rear?

Another 7 days in the naughty box.

View attachment 7336905

CHEERS TO 900 PAGES AND IN MEMORY OF THE FALLEN

I'm gonna make this tonight.

 

[Nome]

wordswordswords

I ain't reading allat

 

[Dizzyuntildeath]

Dude just accept that she's a brain rotted retard. Square pegs, round holes and all that. She isn't going to get better, and much more relevant; she doesn't want to. For all her bitching, her rut is comfortable to her. Go back over her thread. Many people have tried to help her, practically fed her everything she needed to do to improve her lot. Hell, one dude even went so far as to basically give her a form of counselling off site or something because he felt so bad for her, told her how to make changes and shit because they also have a mental illness to cope with. How did she thank him? Outed him (or it looked like he outed himself to Schizoid? Unclear, I don't pay attention to backroom deals) and blocked him.

Don't feel too bad for her. Even if she does have that BPD diagnosis, what then? For all her illness and whining, she chooses this lifestyle. People have done everything short of lock her up to help her.

Free my nigga Toji

He's still in here. At least his new identity is less...ethnic.

 

[Nome]

He's still in here. At least his new identity is less...ethnic.

bullshit he has yet to make a new sock
i know toji when i see him. he's not here

 

[RCRA/CERCLA/GOONER]

bullshit he has yet to make a new sock
i know toji when i see him. he's not here

Hes probably waiting for the heat to die down, I give him like... a month at most to come back

 

[twinArmageddons]

i know toji when i see him. he's not here

when your face to face with toji I wonder when that joke will end probably when some newfag gets exposed for being toe jee

 

[Bothriolepis]

I ain't reading allat

TL;DR, I was  trying to set up a punchline where I used incredibly convoluted reasoning to get to the conclusion that Zoey should have said, "Niggerfaggot".

Unfortunately, I decided on the same strategy that I used for unimportant essays in college to get there (ie., start with a conclusion and then stream of consciousness that shit while also playing Jurassic World: Evolution 2), which kind of buried the lead. So, I tacked on a new, self-referential conclusion calling it stupid rather than going back through to force the punchline to work.

Yeah, Idk. My girlfriend actually saw me writing it, asked if she could read it, and having to explain it in plain English definitely sounds like a psycho manifesto about how to use death threats to become a god. Also how to go as off topic as possible in an essay about House of Leaves? I should have probably just used ChatGPT if I felt like I absolutely had to make a joke that boiled down to, "LOL, this shit's not readable", but I kind of enjoyed writing it. There are some ideas in there that I might actually be able to flesh out later, with less Postmodernist jargon and a very different conclusion, for more personal shit.

 

[FOUND YOU!]

[Unfettered lunacy]

I might actually be on the more normal side of things for regular users

I would like you to revisit this statement.

 

[Sandnigger]

TL;DR, I was  trying to set up a punchline where I used incredibly convoluted reasoning to get to the conclusion that Zoey should have said, "Niggerfaggot".

Unfortunately, I decided on the same strategy that I used for unimportant essays in college to get there (ie., start with a conclusion and then stream of consciousness that shit while also playing Jurassic World: Evolution 2), which kind of buried the lead. So, I tacked on a new, self-referential conclusion calling it stupid rather than going back through to force the punchline to work.

Yeah, Idk. My girlfriend actually saw me writing it, asked if she could read it, and having to explain it in plain English definitely sounds like a psycho manifesto about how to use death threats to become a god. Also how to go as off topic as possible in an essay about House of Leaves? I should have probably just used ChatGPT if I felt like I absolutely had to make a joke that boiled down to, "LOL, this shit's not readable", but I kind of enjoyed writing it. There are some ideas in there that I might actually be able to flesh out later, with less Postmodernist jargon and a very different conclusion, for more personal shit.

This ain't college, the only grade you'll ever get here is an A for autistic.

 

[Bothriolepis]

I would like you to revisit this statement.

Everybody needs to write at least one manifesto in their lives using Derrida, Postmodern architectural analysis, Plato, and grossly out of context comparisons between the cosmogonies of two civilizations on opposite sides of the planet to prove a catastrophically insane/profoundly retarded point.

If nothing else, it gives interns at the NSA something more interesting to read after a phonebook's worth of Salaafist copy pasta and somehow-even-shittier Turner Diary knockoffs.

This ain't college, the only grade you'll ever get here is an A for autistic.

I've also earned several "L"s for "Lunacy", which I would have probably also gotten in college had any of the essays I wrote that way actually been read rather than getting skimmed over. Today, it would probably flag as AI slop or something.

 

[n1663r]

Goddammit toji you stupid nigger

 

[Dizzyuntildeath]

Everybody needs to write at least one manifesto in their lives using Derrida, Postmodern architectural analysis, Plato, and grossly out of context comparisons between the cosmogonies of two civilizations on opposite sides of the planet to prove a catastrophically insane/profoundly retarded point.

Where do you think you are?
You're in a retard lolcow thread where she puts knives in her genitals and wants to go to a bronycon.
There are literal threads for discussing the things you listed here. This ain't them.

Derrida. Ha.
Lol. LMAO even.