MP3: https://planetarystatusreport.com/mp3/20221019_THE_COMPLEXITY_TRAP.mp3
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The Complexity Trap …
“The only escape from the complexity trap is pain.” – Dr. Freckles
“The cringe’iest kind of bargaining is the bargaining for lesser catastrophes.” – Dr. Freckles
Financial debt is NOT the worst kind – though the central bankers and bitcoin fanatics and government will never tell you this.
The great DEBT problem is complexity: too much complexity, and the resource costs for maintenance, let alone expansion, become non-linear.
It’s not so much that you “run out of oil”, it’s more like there’s NO AMOUNT of ANYTHING to keep up with the complexity generated by … ding, ding, ding: government.
You want a way out of this mess? – you have to de-complexity and refactor society.
(adding complexity, like adding “87,000 IRS agents”, only makes the problem worse in a non-linear way)
And in terms of military command and control? – complexity is horrific … and it doesn’t matter how “advanced” your special weapon is … it’s an “eggs in one basket” strategy … like the death star and its ONE WEAKNESS … (that blows it up)
Something from 11/9/2020:
Warmth and Light …
“Sometimes I think that brief moment of light and heat from the nuclear weapon going off will feel kind of nice.” – Dr. Freckles
Spinning our wheels …
Biding time …
In the waiting room …
Going through the motions …
Waiting for the next shoe to drop …
It’s like the APE QUEEN, bringing her throng to Dooglinville, and not reminding herself that the undulation of her brunctis-zone where scabby beasts lurk and tuzzlelate her boovula. She swings with the WOOKIE FOLK and eats cream of cats. There were many who judged her, and were surprised when she fled the lands … and now they wait, for whatever …
It’s like that dude FRANK you knew in high school. He had firecrackers and fire ants and an aquarium with a piranha … He had porno magazines and a switchblade. He would brag about having sex with the English Comp teacher, he would tell stories of diddling little Jenny Moog in the bathroom. He smelled like bleach and cigarettes, you didn’t know if anything you were told was true. He said “I’m leaving on a spaceship and heading to MARS”, and he took off in that van that day … and now we wait, for him and his spaceship, and the cocaine …
What are we waiting for?
No exit …
Waiting for Godot …
Haunting the Jingus-Realm … living off poop soup.
Failure …
“I’m not embarrassed by my failures … I’m ashamed of the things I didn’t even try to do, because I was too afraid.” – Dr. Freckles
Cheating …
Boomers …
“They did all sex and all the drugs and they left us with their moldy rugs.” – Dr. Freckles
(cum soaked rugs)
“As history turns, the elderly are either revered or reviled.” – Dr. Freckles
Chicago …
SHEGLIN-KLAN, blood drenched fury, their eyes moving from one busty conquest to the next. Armed with bats and chain, going insane from the parasites in their food, water, rain. Jenctis-feasts being held now, where old people, old white people, are burned alive and savored by the dusky, dusty, swarthy conclave. And our own children watch as the fires glow, and Chicago becomes a graveyard, and a Bedlam …
CORBIS-ROO, the dirt-flurgur, last of the the wrench-hawks and lifetime CRIP. He has a posse of street warriors ready for action, they are armed with glock-19 designed to fire all cockeyed, the way a gangsta does when he’s high on crack and he just got done raping some white girl at the school. MIDNIGHT BASKETBALL? – hell yeah, that’s where he learned his trade, dealing, stealing, murdering and general mayhem. On those courts built by Clinton, he learned the OG way … and that’s just so Chicago.
Riviera Gomez Jones was the SOUTH SIDE sector leader for the new style AZTECS and their various Peruvian gods and INCA mud-water KINGS. A great fire eagle screamed as these mean street’r types rode their steeds down the MAG MILE, hunting gondo-flesh where the hookers clean out their boovula at Mayor Lightfoot’s street douche kiosk. “Everyone deserves a douche …”, Lori’s motto. Uugen-group hustlers break out of BOY’S TOWN, bringing their turbo crabs and their fire-herpes and their Oak Park style CLAP, all of it dripping the way Lori Lightfoot’s mouth drips drool during a long one … Chicago has NEVER been better!
We can dance around it, but Chicago is the Devil’s now. The streets are covered in a residue of evil and the people have sunken eyes and cocaine lips. They worship BAAL in the form of some frenchie living on the balcony along the gold coast. They cover themselves in GOOG-RAGS and hangout at Old Ted’s Martini bar, where they take swigs of magic-cone and then revel in their own loin grease. These traders of commodities? – trade in dreeg-flesh and human trafficking and little kids stolen from their families in the Ukraine. They will be the pall bearers for Chicago.
WAKANDA? … that’s a crack-pipe dream. WAKANDA the JUST? … just in case you were wondering, these people will eat bat and tiger and monkey. They will pickle the eyeballs of their enemies and use them in eldritch rituals involving puppies and gerbils. Their women wear nothing but one tight string, and the men wear a codpiece made of crocodile skin. WAKANDA FOREVER? – screams some hooker dying of herpes and crabs, as 9 gorillas take her for a ride. CHICAGO, Wakanda, Uganda … Idi Amin? Chicago is a love palace.
I married a girl from Chicago …
She was a skunk-wench and a whiskey-whore, she wore a hair shirt made of cats and was always late. She’d brag on Chicago, as she slurped her kale shake and talked about how many times she’s been mugged … almost like physical violation were a right of passage there, and then you realize: Chicago is Sodom … the Whore of Babylon. Dingus freaks officiated our wedding as the porn loop gave way to driggen-dancing. And those home spun walnut birds sang their songs of underwhelming light. Along the way, we forgot how to listen – so this is why we have GLOCKS.
99 sector armies are forming up near Aurora. The last of the heebus-traders sold his tiny hat to old shlomo, and now he moves gold to Haifa for the Queen. Chicago has become that black void that only Jung understood and Freud was driven by – that ugly hole of nothing rapped in pain rapped in emptiness. The people there cannot be helped, they are the bug feast of history, and soon their bones will be collected, for “bone day”, as the dogs rule the streets and the humans moan and mope and wail and slouch their way to Gomorrah … and the sun turned black for 12 days …. and all that was left was a broken landscape of morbid dreams and wild nightmares. Want to visit Chicago, amirite?