FEDIT POLITICS Thread

Thay being the point.

3. They didn't look the gift horse in the mouth because their cult traditions of political correctness tells them it's not proper policy aka polite to inspect a gift.
And getting evil trump out was our horse of Crete.
The sea people kahunas fly high on the foamy waves of the oceanic steppe waterhorses they ride.

Do the people not read the signs that are driving this titan into great icemountain undersea. The boat is to big and the sides too far away so when the boat is frozen the fellowship will crack because it's center is too weak.

Cretans and philistines killing in the name of the honor of their culture.
By subverting other poly cultures via inception injection of their microbial infection.
Because if your people already believe that horse gods bring power your enemy will give your people what they want.
Then they will be in the palm of your hand.
Captured like a pow.
Or an Indian giver given a poxed blanket for their land.
You know what an Indian giver is?
Indians gave the illegal immigrant cretan criminals exiled from the isles of great bretans land.
Then the indians came back for the land.
The bretans felt insulted.
Sharia law had already gotten far into Europe by then under christian terms because all roads lead to the eternal Valhalla up in the boot.
And the heart of the boot is where the dagger lies.
The sharia law of the time viewed land as privately owned or state owned.
And sharia law is very focused on legalism and the letter of the law.
Not it's spirit.
That's their devil.

So either way the land was legally property of the bretans.
And these cretans bringing their invention the graetian cult of hippocracy aka theater of war and peace.
Comedy and tragedy.
Ebony and ivory.
The law and the outlaw.

The indians did not believe in the cult.
Cults aren't practical.
Indians are practical.
Which is why they viewed the land as a holy monument like the national park system where the nation is the people who walk, water, and will the life out of the land.
This land is my land this land is your land.
But for real not a Hollywood song.
They shared the land with the Cretan Greeks from England with their philistine ideas of culture. Which is always thr most current currency of the packs running together like masses of churches.
Divide them to unite them in a greater division giving all sides what they want under your control by doing it with subterfuge that tastes like candy money.
All we find of these people's of the past is wares depicting actors.
Hardwares and softwares.
The actors are the programs.
But who paints the actors on the wares?
The same ones who paint the signs on the walls.
The painted and tainted.
Like picts and other hidden folk who ply underdark because they been striped for icing or some other penalty.
Under the cover of shade.
Where the only thing above you is sky.
Showing you the white way of of the kilt wearing celtics that protect the secret jewels of power evergreen.

The difference is subtle but it is the great gap of the pitfall jumping adventurer.
The cult.
Is the cult of the count.
Which is how my device autocorrected that word.
It's subtle because everyone likes cheap wares and cheap actors moving their body and lips and tongues for our pleasure.
Like Oscar winners trying to sell you on the latest pharmacopeia sorcery or Mr alright alright alright selling you some philosophical sex for the soul on the YouTube while selling you a Lincoln town car on your old tube.
They might be Giants but they have the easiest most exploitable weak points.
Money and fame.
Power and clout.
Same same, different times, different terms.
Cretans always sacrifice their own philistines first like lambs sent to slaughter in the missionary position.
Call it making headway or how you blitz a beachhead. Either way they form the bridge from there to hear.
But then also to hell and back if we aren't afraid of the trip.
When the enemy drops a bane stone on your town you can either fear it's written bull or fling it back at the enemy while saying fuck you and the horse full of secrets you rode in on.

There is only one thing between you and the goal.
Because there is no stadia.
You walking frozen waters of the deep.
And the seconds are ticking before the doors can be flung.
And the final power play begins.
You hockey puck!

 

Like in islamic states.
Diablo should tell is how second hand citizens work I their world. I remember you having some good knowledge on that.

If you aren't part of the in crowd you are a helot like in Sparta.
And as a helot the Philistines view you as a good slave basically. One they can whip into shape when he throws fit and loses fitness.
You pay more taxes and more fines and have to go through more legal hoops than the in crowd who subsequently also has a much higher obvious display of wealth and ease of life. But you get to live.
Yay?
The helots for example have duty free places like Dubai or other emirate sin cities for maximizing pirate style capitalism and the most vile and horrific criminality their suppressed minds can fall into.
Like a priest who believes that when he puts on his white halo in the morning that all the murders and rapes he committed while wearing black robes won't stain his holy vestments in the eyes of their god.
And it won't. For that is the secret sauce or the god that gives them their tithes and clouds.

But hey you can always go to Vegas and Atlantic city where the modern sharia laws should be relaxed and you can still gamble and spit on the floor and chew gum while walking without having to pay the dummy tax.
But you still probably gonna have to wear your burka.
Because Biden already instituted herr kamala's secret religious police for those who cause 'incidents'.
It was in the news today.
I'm sure nobody expected it.
Few ever do.
At least that's what my dusty books say.
But good that they did me lol.
I've got no money and no fame during the time where money and fame come outta the faucet.
Folks busy looking at the fauci never look close to the plumber installing your pipes putting your rooter on roto.

 

You told us stuff about that one time.
I think you have in laws or something.
Or friends. I can't remember but I remember you breaking down dummy status.
It's not spelled dummy but I can't spell dhimmitude.

 

Expressed = the juice of the fruits of the essential laborers = essence.
If you want the good juice you have to know how to order the bloody oranges mate.
You don't want to get scurvy.
It's a long strange trip esse.
Lend me your ear and I'll grab you a beer.
Just don't grab my oar.
I may be a little delirious but I'm no vince van Gogh.
His message was way more direct.
And I'm shipping to shore.

 

i see you’re adapting to the kentucky lifestyle