Saturday, March 27, 2021

VALIDATION - A Satirical Prose

Disclaimer: This is a work of satire. If you feel offended by anything included in this piece, then you are most likely one of the people being satirized, or you need to look up the definition of the word “satire.” Please understand that if you are offended, then this is intentionally meant to hurt you. Imagine being you. Stay salty.

Greetings stranger! As you already know, the truth is always in your heart. Go with what you feel and you will never go wrong.

So stay a while and listen as I affirm to you what you already know to be true.

Always remember to BELIEVE ALL WOMEN, because a woman always tells the truth about being victimized – and it’s definitely not because they’re the weaker sex because WOMEN CAN DO ANYTHING THAT MEN CAN DO… only better. 

So if a woman tells you that she has been raped, you should understand that this is always 100% true. This is because ALL MEN ARE TRASH and don’t you even think about attempting to refute this with the tired old phrase that NOT ALL MEN, because this is objectively wrong on so many levels because: HELLO? IT’S 2021 – or whatever year it is that you are currently reading this. That’s it. That’s the argument and it is absolutely irrefutable.

And please, never ever try to tell a woman about situational awareness and self-defense because this is so obviously and blatantly VICTIM-BLAMING and it doesn’t address the root of the problem that we should TEACH MEN NOT TO RAPE just as we should teach robbers not to rob and killers not to kill. The reality is that men do not understand that these things are wrong because as I’ve said before ALL MEN ARE TRASH and if you are a man and you are not, then you shouldn’t counter with NOT ALL MEN, because this is not about you, this is about the victimized women. This isn’t a false dichotomy. The simple truth is that If you are not the victim, then you have no right to enter the discussion in the first place, you MANSPLAINER, you!

Furthermore, remember to always be careful because WORDS ARE VIOLENCE. Even if you believe that you have a logical reason to disagree with people who require a laundry list of demands on how you should deal with their kind, you shouldn’t share such a disruptive opinion because you are simply oozing with WHITE PRIVILEGE – no matter what your ethnicity might be. So keep in mind that you should just blindly acquiesce to these laundry list of demands because this is how to BE KIND, because kindness can only be recognized as such when it conforms to the collective demands of the people on whom you choose to bestow said kindness.

WORDS ARE VIOLENCE and this is why people are ALWAYS responsible for what you feel and how YOU understand what they say. Anyone who hurts you with their words OWES YOU AN APOLOGY because again, YOU ARE SPECIAL!

Thus, BE KIND and always, always use GENDER-NEUTRAL terms because people who require the use of these terms are always obviously OPPRESSED, if not by deeds, then by words and even thoughts – because what you think about a person can cause you to have an internal prejudice that may cause you to utterly misgender this person, which is an unjustifiable HATE CRIME in a world where WORDS ARE VIOLENCE. Remember, the singular “they” has been in use since the 1700s – as modern self-proclaimed, self-appointed linguists will always vehemently insist. This is true even if the usage of singular “they” for an unknown individual was vastly different from the specific gender-neutral, known individual usage that it enjoys TOTHEY. 

GENDER IS FLUID after all. From the moment you were born, it doesn’t matter what type of genitalia you were endowed with. These are merely aesthetic. You are who you are and your gender is something that you should only feel when you gain consciousness. YOU ARE SPECIAL and you can be anything that you want to be and no one in the world has the right to stop you – especially not your parents. You don’t owe them anything. After all, did they provide you with the quality of life that you deserve in this world? No? Then it’s their fault for not ABORTING you because that is what you would have preferred. You are always absolutely 100% justified in getting DEPRESSED no matter what your triggers might be. Did your favorite relative die? Be DEPRESSED. Did your pet die? Be DEPRESSED. Did you not get the latest iPhone long before your birthday? BE VERY DEPRESSED. Did an ant bite you? Be VERY DEPRESSED AND EXTREMELY TRAUMATIZED! No one has the right to invalidate what you feel because WHAT YOU FEEL IS ALWAYS REAL and no one, absolutely no one has the right to try to make you feel better about it. This is PATRONIZING because they ARE NOT YOU and therefore, not even several millennia of empirical knowledge can ever refute WHAT YOU FEEL because YOU ARE SPECIAL AND UNIQUE. You go and continue your self-loathing ways, with your roleplaying self-loathing friends, you!

Of course, every rule has an exception. If you were born as a trans, then you are definitely 100% a trans and the rest of the world is TRANSPHOBIC and out to get you every single time they disagree with anything you say.

After all, when bad things happen to you, it’s your parents’ fault for bringing you into this world where bad things can happen to you. ABORTION IS ALWAYS JUSTIFIED because ALL MEN ARE TRASH. When you allow the sperm of a man, who is always trash, to fertilize the egg of a woman, who is always correct, then you are not creating a life. What you are creating is a bundle of cells – a parasite living in the womb of an otherwise good woman – only good for aborting as a fetus and boast-posting on Instagram. Life does not begin until the being gains consciousness. This is why if you are asleep or in a coma, YOU ARE LIFELESS and anyone who is taking care of you has the right to rip you limb from limb and flush you down the toilet like the lifeless trash that you are – that is of course, unless you happen to open your eyes or otherwise demonstrate consciousness, then that’s murder.

Of course, as you already know, your whole quandary started when you were born and you didn’t win the BIRTH LOTTERY even though YOU ARE SPECIAL. You were traumatized at birth. Only a very small percentage of the population won the BIRTH LOTTERY and became BILLIONAIRES. Obviously, having won the BIRTH LOTTERY, these people are evil and deserve nothing but death for the very fact of their existence. This is because we, THE PROLETARIAT should UNIONIZE NOW and TAKE BACK THE MEANS OF PRODUCTION so that united, we can EAT THE RICH literally, including all their innards and right down to the bone. This is the one simple truth as prophesied by our great prophet, redeemer, savior and patron saint KARL MARX who perfectly predicted the world’s path from communes to late-stage capitalism to democratic socialism to the HOLY COMMUNISM in a process known as DIALECTICS as outlined in the sacred book called, THE COMMUNIST MANIFESTO – except for those times when he didn’t… but we don’t talk about that.

Just remember, comrade. It’s wrong to rape, kill, steal and generally commit crimes against others unless it’s against a billionaire because this makes you a good MARXIST and everything you do against a marked billionaire is always 100% justified simply by the fact of their birth. The rationale is that billionaires won the BIRTH LOTTERY and are therefore guilty of ACCUMULATION OF WEALTH from the moment of conception. The only real redemption for them is a violent, excruciating death at the hands of LABOR.  It’s totally NOT A CULT, by the way.

Finally, remember that your envy is always justified. This is what SOCIAL JUSTICE is all about. SOCIAL JUSTICE is 'neither communism, nor despotism, nor atomism, nor anarchy,' but the humanization of laws and the equalization of social and economic forces by the State so that those who have less in life may get revenge by ruining others’ lives.

Do you disagree in the face of all this overwhelmingly irrefutable logic? Then with all due respect, this is quite UNKIND of you – you HOMOPHOBIC, TRANSPHOBIC, BIGOTED, RACIST, WHITE SUPREMACIST, FASCIST, CAPITALIST PIG, you. I hope you get CANCELED.

Monday, March 22, 2021

NCR Plus Bubble? Have A Short Scenario/Story

The funny thing is that I actually wrote this story just two days ago on Facebook before the Philippine government launched its latest brainstorm to quell the upsurge of COVID-19 cases. (I've included a Tagalog version coz it's funnier that way.)

Government Task Force: A Story

Employee A: Bro, they gave us a budget to form a new task force against the rising cases of COVID-19.

Employee B: Awesome, bro. What do we do?

Employee A: Think of a name. It's gotta be a really lit acronym.

Employee B: Wait a minute... ARCS, bro. How about ARCS Team R6? Autonomous Response Covid Solutions Team Region 6.

Employee A: Awesome bro! That's it! I knew you were good at naming names. We totally sound like some Navy Seals shit.

Employee B: So, what now, bro?

Employee A: Now that we have a name, we drink! Just go and buy some masks really cheap from your friend who owns a drug store later. We'll hire some people to hand em out on a contractual basis.


Tagalog Version

Employee A: Pre, may budget tayo. Buo daw tayo ng panibagong task force.

Employee B: Galing, pre! Anong gagawin natin?

Employee A: Mag-isip ka ng pangalan natin. Dapat yung astig!

Employee B: Sige... teka lang... ARCs, pre. ARCS Team R6. Autonomous Response Covid Solutions Team Region 6.

Employee A: Ang astig niyan, pre! Sabi ko na ang galing mo talagang mag isip ng pangalan. Para tayong mga Navy Seals yan!

Employee B: Eh ano na ngayon gagawin natin, pre?

Employee A: Wala na. May pangalan na tayo eh. Tara inuman na! Bili ka lang ng mga mumurahing face masks sa kaibigan mong may ari ng botika mamaya. Tapos, kuha lang tayo ng mga job hire upang ipamigay yan sa mga tao.


Saturday, March 20, 2021

Anecdotes Of Discrimination

When we think of class discrimination, it’s often the case that what comes to mind is the class struggle between the privileged and the working class. This is even truer in modern times wherein Marxist ideology is enjoying pandemic-levels of resurgence among younger individuals as their new religion. The new logic is: as long as you belong to an oppressed, victim class, you’re always correct. However, if you were born into privilege, you must die for the sins of your ancestors known as “accumulation of wealth” according to Patron Saint Karl Marx. Seriously, this is some “Good Eldian” levels of bullshitery – to use a relevant modern allusion.

Still, as a privileged kid, I would say that my experience seem markedly different from what the culturally dominant self-proclaimed socialists living in non-socialist states want you to believe. But… I’m not here to change your mind. Think of these as “food for thought.” Read, and think about it. Do these scenarios sound familiar to you?

Anecdote #1: It’s Your Fault For Asking! Why Can’t You Just Be A Good Customer And Make My Work Easier?

Here’s an incident I remember quite vividly from sometime back in 2016 more or less. I was at the third floor of a mall called “The Atrium” in Iloilo City visiting one of my favorite electronic kiosks that sold toys, handheld game systems and other related devices. I’d just finished buying some parts for my 2DS when I overheard a conversation between a prospective customer and the one of the two employees in charge of the kiosk.

The customer was a man who looked to be in his early thirties. He was asking about the features of a pair of headphones that the kiosk was selling. From what I can remember he asked if it could play music via SD Card, if it had internal batteries, and if it could be used as normal headphones.

The employee, a younger woman possibly in her twenties, responded with: Sir, just read the package. It’s all there. (in Hiligaynon, of course)

The customer decided to walk away without buying anything after this.

As soon as he was out of sight, I heard the female employee utter the following to her co-worker: What an annoying customer! Asking so many questions without even buying anything!

Anecdote #2: Why Must You Tempt Me With Money That’s Not Mine?

Now let’s move on to something a bit more personal.

Now we’ve always been more middle class than actually rich, but a little over a decade ago, my mother had a small money-lending business going. There was one particular meat stall in Iloilo Central Market that owed her money. Thus, my mother would often visit that place to collect the debt and its corresponding LEGAL interest, and sometimes when the debtor didn’t have enough money to cover the debt, she paid it off in goods such as meat or vegetables. Naturally, the FAIR MARKET VALUE of the goods was written off as partial payment for the entire amount of the doubt.

There were times when my mother couldn’t come over to personally collect the debt, so she often sent one of our trusted househelpers who had been with us since I was a child, to collect the debt in her stead.

This went on for several months until my mother discovered upon accounting that there was a discrepancy between what the debtor says she had paid off and what was actually accounted for in my mother’s records.

Naturally, the prime suspect was the househelper. When my mother confronted her, she flew into a fit of rage crying and raging about how it was all my mother’s fault for being rich and for having her handle tons and tons of money without ever cutting her a share.

Anecdote #3 You’re Rich Therefore You Can’t Do Anything

Now for something short, sweet and even more personal. Back in High School, there was a time when we were asked to cook some dishes for Home Economics class. Now I’ll admit it, at that time, I was a very sheltered kid who had no idea how to cook anything at all. Fortunately, the teacher split the class into groups of six so that we could divide the work.

When I asked my groupmates what they wanted me to do, their immediate response was: Don’t do anything, señorito. Just stay out of our way or go clean up or something. Do you even know how to handle a broom?

So I answered: Yup. Then I immediately broke the dust pan in half and threw the broom outside the window and stormed out of the room.

I don’t regret that decision to this day.

So there you go, three anecdotes of discrimination (definitely not the only ones I’ve experienced) – sometimes taking on a form much different and far detached from what you’d see in popular media as well as what the snowflakes on social media want you to believe. Think about it.


Thursday, February 25, 2021

Just Some New Art - You've Probably Seen These On Twitter

 Yeah, I usually post on my twitter (@violent_cloud) or PIXIV (lordcloudx) account first. Anyway, here are some new digital pieces from me.

Frankly, I'm quite proud of the wetness of the bikini on Nagi's DAT ass

This is the entire pic. It's a redo of an older CG

This one was rendered for Valentine's Day. Pretty simple stuff.

Chinese New Year thing. Detail shots included.

Thursday, February 4, 2021

Home - A Short Story by lordcloudx

 “The goal of togetherness is oneness.”

Alex woke up to his Mother’s voice repeating these words over and over again for a total of 10 times at exactly 6:00 AM every morning.

The very same words were also plastered in big bold letters at the dining hall just outside of his room. Over here, Alex ate two meals a day with six other children at 6:00 AM and then another meal in the afternoon at 3:00 PM. Some time ago, Alex distinctly remembered that they had at least three meals a day, but Mother changed the schedule recently since there was just not enough food for everyone to have three meals a day.

This meant that being used to three meals a day, Alex went to bed just a little bit hungrier than usual, but at the very least, everyone must have felt the same.

“At least we all go a little bit hungry, right Alex?” Mikaela, the girl who sat next to Alex at the dining hall asked.

“Yes…”  Alex answered with a hint of reluctance while pondering the question in his head.

“…There is a sense of security in knowing that everyone else is suffering the same way that you are.” Mikaela added.

Alex was a very solitary kid, but he liked Mikaela because unlike the other kids, she never asked too many questions. In fact, she was his only friend in the entire Home.

At the end of the meal, Mother clapped her hands together and when she was certain that she had everyone’s attention, she spoke:

“As you all know, Foundation Day is coming up this weekend.”

Using his fingers to count off, Alex realized that it was only 2 days away from Foundation Day. He was lost in his own thoughts as Mother continued her speech.

“Food is now scarce, so there will be no extra treats for everyone like the previous year. However, the Union will provide everyone with one bar of chocolate for every two individuals. You will be assigned a partner with whom you must share your chocolate bar equally with.  The same number of bars for all… and I’m afraid there will be no presents for everyone this year. The Union has decided that these presents promote inequality and we cannot have that, of course. Now I understand that this news is quite disheartening since it is our biggest and only celebration every year, but always remember…”

Mother paused in anticipation.

“The goal of togetherness is oneness,” the kids all shouted with a decidedly fake yet still somewhat jubilant cheer.

“That’s too bad, huh Alex? I was looking forward to Foundation Day.”

As for Alex, he had a mischievous grin on his face.

“After all, I’m not like these other kids.” – is what he thought to himself.

Alex was a very perceptive child. While he did not know much about the way the world works outside of his Home with Mother and the five other kids, what he did understand is that food and other resources such as sugary drinks, and even new clothing were now limited and that they would never have as much as they once had in the past.

However, even though supplies had been slowly dwindling over the last three years, they had always celebrated Foundation Day on the 3rd of December. Mother had told them that this was the day that the “Union” was formed. It was on this date over 108 years ago in 1918 when humanity chose to enter the age of equality – and it has never looked back ever since.

Of course, for Alex and the kids, the 3rd of December is the one time in the year when they could play all day without worrying about household chores, eat sweet meats and delicious desserts and at the end of the day, at exactly 12:00 AM, everyone would receive a beautiful present, personally handpicked by Mother. It was the one time in the year when they could all receive something that was different from what all the other kids got.

“Hey, Mikaela – if you can, sneak on over to my room when all the celebrations are over on Foundation Day. I have something nice for the two of us.”

“That sounds great, Alex. I’ll go and tell the other kids too.”

“No, no Mikaela. This surprise is only for the two of us. There’s not enough for everyone else.”

“Oh, but I thought we were all equal here, Alex. Why is it only for the two of us?”

“Because I prepared enough for just the two of us... just don’t tell anyone about it and come meet me in my room on Foundation Day, okay?”

“I understand Alex. You have a surprise that is only for the two of us and not for everyone else.  I shall meet you then.” Mikaela bowed with a smile.

Later that night, Alex carefully took out a wooden box that he had hidden on the underside of his bed. The box had been one of Mother’s Foundation Day gifts back when Alex was much younger. Back then, he thought that it was rather useless and that he would have preferred a new toy or a storybook. But this was before the time of scarcity.  Now, he found that he had the perfect use for it.

Opening the box, Alex admired the “treasures” that he and Mikaela would have all to themselves on Foundation Day: a few sachets of butter, some packets of maple syrup, four rolls of biscuit, two small bottles of strawberry jam, five chunks of smoked meat, and a few other odds and ends of food items that he had managed to pocket and sneak into his room during meal times - six months’ worth of smuggling over-all, and just about enough for two kids to have their own Foundation Day-worthy celebration on the 3rd of December.

“I bet Mikaela will be so happy.”


Suddenly, from out of nowhere, the door to Alex room was flung open and Mother stormed inside with a stern look on her face.

Yet, while having Mother enter his room so suddenly gave Alex quite a jolt, it was the smaller silhouette behind her that made his spine tingle with shocking realization.

“ALEX! Do you understand what it is you have done?” Asked Mother.

Alex nodded submissively.

“Good. Then if you do, please take that box and accompany Mikaela and I to the fireplace.”

“But Mother, even if keeping all this food to myself is against the rules, shouldn’t we at least add them to our meals on Foundation Day? At the very least everyone would be a little bit happier.”

“Alex, there are six of you children in the house, but you clearly and deliberately stashed enough food for just two people. How do you propose we divide these items fairly in the spirit of equity as our founders have taught us?”

Alex could not answer.

“Good. Now come. Let us go to the fireplace.”

And so, Alex together with Mother and Mikaela made their way to the fireplace.

“Now, throw that box into the fire yourself so that you may understand the weight of your selfishness, Alex.”

Alex did as instructed and he watched in solemn silence as his treasure, six months worth of work, and his box, a unique gift from Mother that he would never have again – were slowly incinerated and turned into sweet smelling smoke.

“I did this for you…” Alex muttered underneath his breath.

He stared at Mikaela and she turned to meet his gaze. Alex searched her eyes for a hint of regret, a glimmer of hesitation, a sliver of remorse… but from his perspective, he saw none of these.

Mother clasped them both by the shoulder.

“And remember children…” Mother whispered quietly.

“The goal of togetherness is oneness.” Alex and Mikaela said in chorus.

The next morning, Mikaela came over early to Alex’s room. It was 5:40 AM, still quite some time before the 6:00 AM wake up call.

“Alex? It’s me, Mikaela.”

She knocked twice. Of course, there was no response. After all, he must have really hated her for what she had done. Indeed, Mikaela did feel sorry for her friend. After all, he had done everything for her – and this was also his sin. Mikaela could not understand why Alex forgot about something so simple. You don’t do something that would only benefit one person. The goal of togetherness is oneness. If you celebrate, you celebrate together with everyone else. If you suffer, then you suffer the same as everyone else as well. That is oneness.

Feeling pity for her friend, she had come over this morning to explain what happened to him. So that they might remain friends –surely, he would understand.

Alex? I’m coming in.

Mikaela opened the door to Alex room. It was dark at first, but gradually, her eyes adjusted to the small amount of light that filtered in through the doorway – and of course, there was Alex at the back of the room.

Alex was at 3:00 and then 6:00 and now 9:00 and 12:00 – back and forth and so on went Alex.



Saturday, January 30, 2021

This is Justice - A Short Rhetorical Story

There was once an earnest young woman from a very, very poor country. At a young age, she managed to stow away on board a merchant vessel in an effort to escape her miserable situation.

When the crew discovered their uninvited guest, they took pity on her. Therefore, instead of letting her off at the next port, they decided to train her as an honorary member of their crew.

The woman began working as an assistant in the ship’s kitchen. At first, they had her do odd jobs such as cutting the meat and vegetables, beating the eggs and of course, cleaning up the pots, pans, dishes and other kitchen utensils after use.

She remained as an honorary member of the crew for the next five years. Of course, during this time, she learned various recipes and cooking techniques until eventually, she had gained the competence of a full-time chef.

Because she proved to be very diligent and helpful, she was paid a minimal allowance for her services. It was a very small amount when compared to what was paid to the rest of the individual crew members, but the woman was simply glad that a stowaway like her was paid anything at all. It felt just.

On her fifth year, she finally parted ways with the ship and its crew – getting off at a port in a country of plenty. Here, she began a new life with the money that she had earned as a kitchen assistant.

She rented out a small unit on the first floor of a multi-purpose building. It was cheap but fairly large with two smaller rooms in the back. She made one of the back rooms her living quarters and converted the rest of the unit into a small restaurant.

Thanks to the expertise she gained as a stowaway turned kitchen assistant, she knew exactly how to manage a kitchen. She opened the restaurant with only five employees at first, but people liked the restaurant’s dishes and ambiance so much that she managed to open up to three new branches within only two years of operations.

While she was certainly no billionaire, she had gained a certain level of affluence at this point – certainly more than the average white collar worker makes on a day job.

One day, she was looking through her payroll records which she had entrusted to her long-time female assistant, an illegal immigrant and the first employee she had ever hired for her business. This is when she noticed some anomalies. The restaurants were actually making a little bit less profit than initially projected.

When she asked her trusted assistant about this anomaly, the assistant immediately admitted that it was her doing and lashed out at the restaurant owner.

“It was me! I embezzled the funds. It’s because all these years you’ve made me handle all this money without even giving me any cut from the profits. It’s only right that I get my fair share – even if I have to take it without your permission.”

To which, the restaurant owner replied: “But don’t I pay you a just amount for your services? If you wanted to have more, then why didn’t you just tell me honestly?”

The assistant replied: “Because you’re rich and you’ll never understand what it’s like to be exploited like us poor people.”

So let us pause here for a moment and allow me to ask you, the reader, this question: How does this story make you feel? Do you feel that the restaurant owner is in the wrong? Is the assistant justified in her embezzlement?

Now let us change the scenario a bit.

Let’s say that the whole payroll anomaly never happened and after the restaurant owner had lived a full life and passed on, the restaurant eventually became an international franchise and the wealth was transferred across several generations of the woman’s descendants.

Nearly a century later, a pair of siblings descended directly from the earnest woman now own one of the largest international food franchises in the world. It was a business empire that was built upon the hard work of those who came before them. However, the siblings were born into wealth without having had to work a single day in their entire lives. Though they were always basking in luxury, they have lived their lives honestly without ever attempting to take advantage of anybody. They simply managed the business – benefiting from the legacy of those who came before them.

However, the siblings lived in a very tumultuous city. One day, an angry mob, convinced that anyone who is rich is guilty of the crime of “exploiting the poor” decided to storm the mansion that they lived in and then murdered the siblings in cold blood. Their only crime: winning the birth lottery and being born rich. A crime that was passed down by their ancestors who had amassed too much wealth while others lived their entire lives in poverty.

When the scene was finally reported by the mass media, the people rejoiced as riots broke out all across the country in similar attacks targeting people who are considered super-rich. A violent government takeover then ensued all in the name of class consciousness and redistribution of wealth. The siblings were written down in history as criminals whose wealth was built upon the earnest labor of the working class.

After all, no one should have too much more than others. The mere accumulation of wealth beyond what one can spend in a lifetime is by itself a crime worthy of death by public execution.

Meanwhile, a new government was established with the goal of ensuring that no one would need to work for more than eight hours a week with labor controlling the means of production and equitable redistribution of wealth. Whether this works out or not – is a story for another day.

So tell me: What do you think the siblings’ specific crime was? Did the crime originate from the earnest woman who was their ancestor? If so, what grave felony did she commit by attempting to alleviate her own situation and to secure the future of her descendants?

This is justice.