Wednesday 28 November 2012

Ministering Hatred.

Psychiatry. The refuge of the prurient.
When people wish to do great harm in the name of helping the helpless, they turn to psychiatrists.
When hatred needs to be smuggled into a victim's life under any circumstances, and trust doesn't exist, the hater turns to psychiatry.
For a modest sum in money and influence, anybody can buy the sort of medicine it takes to lock up a victim who is already suffering and confront them with a damned reality which makes their previous travails shrink in comparison. All it takes is the right kind of lies.

Of course, to go on enduring their own disgusting personalities after overpowering all resistance to their metaphysical murderousness, they must pretend that their feelings amount to benevolence, that they acted for the victim's own good.

They shore up this delusion with a fraudulent belief in the outcome; when the victim goes on suffering, the hater will pretend to the world that good has come of the medicine, that psychiatry, with its brain-deadening potions and confinement, has changed things for the better.
While some temporary relief may be found by the victim in the soothing ride from junked consciousness to inactivity, trouble is only being deferred.

As for the psychiatrists, most of them treat the state of victimhood as a label; the victim is effectively branded 'mad' by acquiescence to the fictions of the haters, the 'no smoke without fire' reasoning being used to slander and condemn in the face of any fact.
There are decent psychiatrists, but they are crushed by the union of hater and conformist which grips the profession in a vice of obedience which is as coercive as being locked up.

As far as I'm concerned, they can all go to hell. Especially the loving haters who treat psychiatry as the emergency service which protects them from looking at their own revolting minds.

Sunday 25 November 2012

International Sclerosis

Yet again the defeated policies of Charles Dickens' parlour are being dredged up from whatever ship they wrecked last time, and presented with all the fake freshness of a gonorrhea-ridden whore with a stolen bottle of Chanel Number 5 on a Friday night.
What makes this absurdity surprising, but only moderately surprising, is the fact that it appeared in the National Post of Canada.

Yes. They actually ran an editorial calling for a 'wealth tax to end poverty'. And an aircraft carrier. And a secret plot to bomb Iran.
Of course all taxes create poverty. Just look at your pay cheque and tell me you don't feel poorer. Of course this is a 'wealth tax', which means it's okay fellas, they're only going to rip off the mysterons mysterious rich people that everybody knows and hates, but nobody has met.

The aircraft carrier is supposed to make this nation of newly-minted superheroes feel 'strong' after showing their tender side by mugging Albertans rich people to incentivise them into helping the 'poor'.
Actually, the most amusing part of this is the National Post's claim that using force 'incentivises' giving, whereas it actually doesn't leave the choice to give in existence; further grotesqueness follows in the assertion that such an action renders voters reverse vampires charitable.

Only a feeling of shame must have prevented the life-form responsible from signing his name.