The God of Losers, or It Helps If You Think of It as a Game
"But life goes on."
“It’s an old story, the fight for love and glory, huh, Bob? It helps if you think of it as a game. Every game has a winner…and a loser.”
We live in the age of the loser. It helps if you think of it as a game, except, according to the M.C. Escher, demiurgic shadow-world logic of our shit-reality, the biggest losers, the most reprehensible, unethical, immoral, irredeemable, venal, compliant, low-life pieces of shit, those who have proven themselves to be completely bereft of even the faintest thread of moral fiber, as a consequence of being, according to any other era, absolutely spineless, godless nothings, get to re-write the rules of the next game. And every round, the rules get a little less fair and the stakes raised just a little higher, in order to remind you of why you should, for your own good, really, just roll over and die like a dog.
Whether it be our current president, the (allegedly) pedophilic, Israel-first rapist who has shit himself on video, diving us head first into a losing war, a completely avoidable energy crisis, inflation, and a food shortage, or his top guys, Rubio and Hegseth, Goofus and Day-Drunk Goofus, a duo of 2008-era frat rejects who lack the operational wherewithal to organize a gang bang at Sodom and Gomorrah, along with their cross-eyed plus-one, Kash the Gooner, to say nothing of Grandma’s Boy JD Vance, or the piglets at ICE, the blood-thirsty gravy boat-shaped boys of Texas, or the series of death-masks that have been paraded around as, variously, the Blade Runner of K-9s and head of the DHS, the Attorney General, and whoever the fuck this little shit was supposed to be, it is clear: we are being ruled by absolute losers, scared and ugly rats hiding in the crooked shadow of Jeffrey Epstein.
“Like rats in the piss-rain…”
And of course, opposite their side of the aisle, you have their fellow apocalyptic, Mammon-worshiping Zionists, liberals like Kamala, a woman with so little political vision that her only response to genocide was “more genocide.” Or the guy in California cosplaying as a serial killer, to the delight of his fans marching in the name of No Kings, who, after their little “protest,” can go home feeling good about having accomplished absolutely nothing, and, instead of demanding more of their representatives, will continue to blame those to their left, or act as if Trump is an abomination, and not a continuation of a cycle they are more than happy to support, so long as it operates in the shadows of respectability politics.
Among the cosplaying Philistines of the Left: Zohran bowed to cynical and bogus Zionist pressure by throwing his wife under the bus, AOC has proven herself to be yet another war-mongering psychopath with no spine, and Bernie is busy with Claude. If you’re waiting for help, you will be waiting awhile.
There is no opposition party. There are no saviors. No spirit will fly from the sky, sword in hand, wielding the fire of God. All you have is yourselves, and the divine light within, that little spark that keeps alight in your darkest hours, those minutes in between sleep, half-awake, when the only thing you have, the only truth of which you can be absolutely certain, is the truth of life itself.
Choose your archon. This is all according to the game.
“Comply!”
Of course, the names and faces, being replaceable, mean nothing. They will change, they will come and go, and nothing will get better, so long as the systems of power and control themselves stay the same. It’s all in the game.
You, your children, their children, their friends, animals, plants, all life walking the surface of the earth are fair game for these demonic shit heels, if, God forbid, you fail to show them and their systems their proper respect, to kiss the ring wrapped around their sweaty, red, pulsating, vermilion fingers, swollen the color of the worm, wet with their nervous emissions, the demonic ooze from which they derive their powers of avoiding justice and prosecution (for now).
Of course, when the stakes are as such, there is no quit. You do not have the option of giving up, of quitting and submitting, as if this was all but written in the stars. Why should you? How could you?
The price of compliance is no less than everything you have ever loved or held dear. Otherwise, you will die for Israel and the Epstein Admin, one way or the other.
The average person is a good person. And too many good people are suffering and dying for absolutely no reason. Families are being torn apart and traumatized. Parents and their children, like Jawad, the 18-month-old Palestinian toddler who was tortured by Israelis in front of his father.
Or Oudone Lothirath, who, after moving here 45 years ago from Vietnam, fleeing a conflict for which our government was responsible (many such cases), missed vital chemo sessions under ICE custody and is now on his deathbed.
I have seen too much death and suffering to look the other way and say nothing. We cannot let the losers win. Fuck them, and, more importantly, fuck their shitty little game, the nefarious scheme from which they have benefited, thanks to our suffering. Their game is called capitalism, and it will leave use with nothing but each other, and when that day comes, we can but hope for the best from ourselves.
I have nothing but my Word, but in the beginning, there was nothing otherwise. Nevermind the silence. Kill it. When you scream at the gods and hear nothing, you have no choice but to continue making noise, bleeding yourself of the righteous melody, a song of persistence. A song of liberation, sung on behalf of the only thing that can never truly lose: the human soul, the very light of which there is no name but “God.”
“Hail to the hour when oppression shall be gone…”
“Caution, Sir? I am eternally tired of hearing that word caution. It is nothing but the word of cowardice!
“If it is deemed necessary that I should forfeit my life for the furtherance of the ends of justice, and mingle my blood further with the blood of my children and with the blood of millions in this slave country whose rights are disregarded by wicked, cruel, and unjust enactments-I submit; so let it be done.”
— John Brown, abolitionist.
It’s still the same old story,
a fight for love and glory,
a case of do or die…