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"libertarian" poems
Just in case you didn’t know My mind is low, You’re reading these scribbles now This boring man, talks and talks About government It’s really not a godsend This boring man gives his back And too much slack This country is on ******* crack I’m done takinf pointless notes That I won’t look at This boring man is very fat I want to leave and **** **** A lovely deed, This boring man; monotone Boring man is trying to be cool He’s a ******* fool He needs to be in a box, he’s a tool This boring man, always boring To my left I hear snoring Boring man, walk out the door! Time as of now is molasses Minutes are hours **** government and their powers Democrat, republican, libertarian You’re all wrong Hey, pass me that **** Boring man cannot teach I just wish, I was at the sunny beach Hell, I’d be anywhere Not here but there I don’t care, this guy has no flare 25 minutes, oh my lord, I’m so bored Not as much as the boring man This is getting out of hand Against government Let’s all get up and stand!
0
Jun 1, 2011
Jun 1, 2011 at 8:31 PM UTC
Government class poem
What does it mean to be a Modern Man? In the way in the Renaissance you were a Renaissance Man? Knowing all there is to understand, and learning all the skills you’ll need with your hands. Fluent in English, American, and Ebonics. Part IT Guy to fix everyone’s electronics. Part Guru to share your health advice. Part Farmer because who can trust anything, you buy in the stores these days. Part Eagle Scout so you can impress everyone, because you “still get out to the woods once in a while.” Part Mechanic to work on your fuel efficient car, and your wife’s giant dual-axel turbo diesel truck. Part Biker, because Man was born to be free. Part Hippie, because EVERYONE WAS BORN TO BE FREE. Part Hill Billy because they’re doin’ it right. Part Libertarian, part Socialist, part Anarchist. Part Patriot, part Activist, part Terrorist. Part whatever the **** I want because I don’t give a **** Part of a government watch list. Part of a Humanitarian Project. Part of a Rebellion, Part of a Revolution, yet to come. Part of you, because our conscience, is the same. Part of the whole, because it is impossible not to be. Part of god, because by now you’ve realized, it is you, and there’s no turning back.
0
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 1:04 AM UTC
a Modern Man
They say that offspring resembles the breeders both physically and mentally but when I  speak their faces darken and when they speak I get upset. I resemble them physically but you can not tell that I am their daughter if you look at us mentally. Every conversation is a battle. My father is the textbook conservative. Pro-life and pro-guns Anti-gay and microagressive. How am I his daughter? My mother is a follower. A doe to her deer. A foe in my fears. How am I her daughter? Standing 5 foot 8 in a pair of slacks instead of a dress there's me. The feminist. The human rights activist. My father calls me a communist. My mother thinks I'm crazy. I'm not a communist but a libertarian. Funny how that's confused. I march on in my combat boots. My mother disapproving. My father asking me if I just came back from a Pearl Jam concert. I march on with my feminist ways. Spreading the word of equality as often as I can. Telling the micro-aggressors to stop. Questioning the Christians and the anti-gays. I march on with my sense of style. I don't care if I don't look feminine today. I don't feel feminine today. My mother's shaming me in the distance. I march on with my tattoos and choppy hair. My mother crying and my father angry. They are anti-tattoo and anti-individualistic. I don't deserve their shame. I march on with who I am. Because although I am their offspring they can not change who I am. No matter how hard they try.
0
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
offspring
*White. Female. Middle Class. Heterosexual. Agnostic. Libertarian.* Yeah. That's me. That's that first layer, thin as the paper you could read it on. Just a Jane Doe, a nameless, faceless demographic. But peeling back the layers, ripping through page on page of a complicated novel, digging down into a bottomless hole to China, unravelling the intricate web of stereotypestruthsliesassumptionsprejudice and there you will find me, a colorless genderless asexual spirit whose frame is crafted and molded not with how the world chooses to see me and who "they" deem me to be; no. A guy that didn't know me well once told me that I spoke more urban than he expected, and I couldn't help but wonder why someone from an urban area couldn't speak like they were from a city, like somehow what he saw in my whitefemaleheterosexualmiddleclassagnosticlibertarian prologue forbade me from speaking in colloquials and abbreviations. Oh, I apologize, I laughed later to my friend, **law students are supposed to speak with an ostentatious vocabulary and an heir of (superfluous) arrogance.** I am rarely a prototype of what it means to be White, of what it means to be female; middle-class or not, my parents insisted at age 8 that I begin to understand the value of a dollar; my sexuality indicates little about my level of attraction to the world around me; agnostic is really just a term I put because I'm still trying to figure out whether I really believe everything I was forced to learn at Catholic school; and isn't Libertarian just a fancy word for I don't want to choose liberal or conservative? It's insulting to ingest how much is insinuated about my depth in the shallowest of pools. My cheeks burn hot with frustration as I try to balance on a beam cracking underneath the weight of a world that is constantly begging me to go back in the neatly wrapped package from which the world would prefer I came. I'm not someone you can put in a ******* box and label; you can't contain my shine behind blackout blinds; I will burst out of your bubble and break your glass ceilings; I will scream at the top of my lungs in a soundproof room until you HEAR me. I'm not meant to be judged by my cover, and neither are you. We are meant to be read.
0
Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 10:51 PM UTC
Epilogue
*White. Female. Middle Class. Heterosexual. Agnostic. Libertarian.* Yeah. That's me. That's that first layer, thin as the paper you could read it on. Just a Jane Doe, a nameless, faceless demographic. But peeling back the layers, ripping through page on page of a complicated novel, digging down into a bottomless hole to China, unravelling the intricate web of stereotypestruthsliesassumptionsprejudice and there you will find me, a colorless genderless asexual spirit whose frame is crafted and molded not with how the world chooses to see me and who "they" deem me to be; no. A guy that didn't know me well once told me that I spoke more urban than he expected, and I couldn't help but wonder why someone from an urban area couldn't speak like they were from a city, like somehow what he saw in my whitefemaleheterosexualmiddleclassagnosticlibertarian prologue forbade me from speaking in colloquials and abbreviations. Oh, I apologize, I laughed later to my friend, **law students are supposed to speak with an ostentatious vocabulary and an heir of (superfluous) arrogance.** I am rarely a prototype of what it means to be White, of what it means to be female; middle-class or not, my parents insisted at age 8 that I begin to understand the value of a dollar; my sexuality indicates little about my level of attraction to the world around me; agnostic is really just a term I put because I'm still trying to figure out whether I really believe everything I was forced to learn at Catholic school; and isn't Libertarian just a fancy word for I don't want to choose liberal or conservative? It's insulting to ingest how much is insinuated about my depth in the shallowest of pools. My cheeks burn hot with frustration as I try to balance on a beam cracking underneath the weight of a world that is constantly begging me to go back in the neatly wrapped package from which the world would prefer I came. I'm not someone you can put in a ******* box and label; you can't contain my shine behind blackout blinds; I will burst out of your bubble and break your glass ceilings; I will scream at the top of my lungs in a soundproof room until you HEAR me. I'm not meant to be judged by my cover, and neither are you. We are meant to be read.
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108
I'm not a great man, But, I've been here and there, and I've learned a lot. Like how not to get shot, And where to buy *** I've bent every misdemeanor law, Some would call me a libertarian, I say democracy is a farce, Keep your vote, and leave me out of it. Most of what I know is useless idiosyncratic observation. For instance, I know how many days it takes to hide 73 pipes, and other miscellaneous paraphernalia. My father was raised in the depression, He refused to let us throw anything out, And we had a chest of drawers, full of old junk. Watches without bands, and any piece of scrap paper, That had free space on it. Last years receipt, dry cleaning tickets, etcetera... And, Subsequently, It rubbed off on me, And I hate throwing anything out. I don't buy new stuff, until the old stuff goes bust. I had a 10 pound Toshiba satellite, for 8 years, Until the plug jack came loose, and I fried the sucker. So when my doctor told me I had to quit smoking... Everything, I had forty plus years of accumulated paraphernalia. I gave a pipe, to friends who were interested, But it wasn't enough. I hear you saying it now, "You irresponsible old lunatic!" And you're right, but I look at it a little different. You might call it promoting lawlessness, I say a law that is obsolete should be repealed. Walk down the street, you'll see the dime bags, and blunt wrappers everywhere. No need to promote something that will happen anyway. Teens will smoke, so I hid a bunch near high schools. Up at Rutgers, I hid one in ten different buildings, A few outside of the police station, and the courthouse, And one in the bushes of my snobby neighbor. Any place I could think of, I hid a pipe. Rebellion be ****** I did it because I felt good, Like a simple ********** A stolen cherry, in the supermarket. Sowhatsthepoint? Crime isn't cool kiddies, But, as long as you steer clear of felonious activity, They won't send you to real **** ****** jail. Even your grandma, probably jaywalks from time to time. Oh if you stumble on one of my pipe hiding spots, Don't touch it until your old enough.
0
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 9:18 AM UTC
Hiding Pipes
I'm not a great man, But, I've been here and there, and I've learned a lot. Like how not to get shot, And where to buy *** I've bent every misdemeanor law, Some would call me a libertarian, I say democracy is a farce, Keep your vote, and leave me out of it. Most of what I know is useless idiosyncratic observation. For instance, I know how many days it takes to hide 73 pipes, and other miscellaneous paraphernalia. My father was raised in the depression, He refused to let us throw anything out, And we had a chest of drawers, full of old junk. Watches without bands, and any piece of scrap paper, That had free space on it. Last years receipt, dry cleaning tickets, etcetera... And, Subsequently, It rubbed off on me, And I hate throwing anything out. I don't buy new stuff, until the old stuff goes bust. I had a 10 pound Toshiba satellite, for 8 years, Until the plug jack came loose, and I fried the sucker. So when my doctor told me I had to quit smoking... Everything, I had forty plus years of accumulated paraphernalia. I gave a pipe, to friends who were interested, But it wasn't enough. I hear you saying it now, "You irresponsible old lunatic!" And you're right, but I look at it a little different. You might call it promoting lawlessness, I say a law that is obsolete should be repealed. Walk down the street, you'll see the dime bags, and blunt wrappers everywhere. No need to promote something that will happen anyway. Teens will smoke, so I hid a bunch near high schools. Up at Rutgers, I hid one in ten different buildings, A few outside of the police station, and the courthouse, And one in the bushes of my snobby neighbor. Any place I could think of, I hid a pipe. Rebellion be ****** I did it because I felt good, Like a simple ********** A stolen cherry, in the supermarket. Sowhatsthepoint? Crime isn't cool kiddies, But, as long as you steer clear of felonious activity, They won't send you to real **** ****** jail. Even your grandma, probably jaywalks from time to time. Oh if you stumble on one of my pipe hiding spots, Don't touch it until your old enough.
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52
Libertarians— Anarchists on a trust fund, Fools with conviction. Only right country, Libertarian heaven—   .  .  .  Sweet Somalia. Regulations **** Breathing is free and easy, With Chinese gas mask. John Wayne was a God, We act with guns for Jesus— Vengeful, cold dead hands.
0
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 8:23 PM UTC
Haiku ( clueless )
"Democracy is the lesser of all evils." Says the Liberal. The Libertarian. The Corinthian. The Macedonian. The Farrier. The Squire. The Stoic. The Astronomer. The Ornithologist. The Eschatologist. The Augur. The Retiarius. The Hoplite. The Centurion. The Governor. The General. The Senator. The Orator. The Assassin. The Emperor. The Ferryman.
0
Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
At The Feet Of The Head
Libertarian— Anarchist on a trust fund, Somalia dreams.
0
Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 2:06 PM UTC
Haiku ( gun crazy )
Every thought you have ever had Whether good or bad Sprung from the recesses of your mind A deliberating consciousness that is blind. Every feeling you have ever felt Was wound tightly with a deterministic belt Every word you have ever written Was written with a hand wearing a causal mitten. Free-will is an illusion and always has been, However, this is perhaps one elephant in the room best left unseen. Dualism is a false philosophy. We are a causal system, In a Universe governed by a causal piston. Libertarian free will is a delusion. However comforting it may feel to be free, I had no other option that to write these words, And be me. “Man can do what he wills but he cannot will what he wills.” ― Arthur Schopenhauer, Essays and Aphorisms
0
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 4:53 AM UTC
I had no choice
I would sell myself a bill of goods Before I would ever inveigh The babble That some-have the chutz-puh To accept as some obscure Personal quest That they must compel Themselves to fulfill As the Tower Of Babel was To the intrangient zealots As they go about Invoking invidiousness Binging on the intoxicating inversion Of partisan  opinionativeness Quoting as they go "Do unto me not as I do unto you" When... In a chronometric second Any possible bipartisan thoughts That they may truly possess Has passed through their cinderblock brain Like the ray of light On a birefringent trajectory Unable to acknowledge or accept either one As the refracting action Accentuates the intolerance Invalidating them for The total lack Of introspection Resulting from the Total absence Of any biological binder That on any level would ever Allow even the slightest sprig Of libertarian thought To escape deracination Slamming the lid tightly In hopes that noone  would see The dividends that grow from The derivation as a desideratum People who can't see it Personally.... I don't need em.
0
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 2:57 AM UTC
Personally ...I don't need em.
As I walk the streets I wonder about Eddie and the Cruisers, mashing my makeup with my believe. Have you taken the latest quiz? It's one of the quickest way to drive site visits. That and lists. People luv lists! Riddle me this Batman! What kind of narrative has no quick answers to political questions? If my Brand answers can't match stock candidate's sound bites does it mean I don't believe anymore? It's complicated and I have issues but no policy. 60% match with Rand, 70% match with Bernie and the dichotomy is split. Libertarian or Progressive? Yin or my yang, Always a montage of my yang! We've come in nonsense face, believing Third Vehicle ways, like Tea, or Green, or Green Tea Party Girl! My narrative doesn't match yours. Does it mean we can't date each other? There'll never be a complete fit, no soul mate here for our consensual policy making.
0
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 5:04 PM UTC
LuvFit Quiz
I used to be an avid libertarian Now I am a vocal egalitarian. I see that Republicans are Rehearsing to acclaim a Tsar, Contemptuous of anything agrarian. My peers are equally divided bubbleheads Half of their brain cells completely dead. Their parents taught them so little That they are caught in the middle They believe each word their crazy leader said. The USA is not a pure democracy, The only thing pure here is hypocrisy. Voters sit on their hands And applaud the brass bands Saying, ”What else can anybody ask of me!” My peers are equally divided bubbleheads Half of their brain cells completely dead. Their parents taught them so little That they are caught in the middle They believe each word their crazy leader said. The USA is not a pure democracy, The only thing pure here is hypocrisy. Voters sit on their hands And applaud the brass bands Saying, ”What else can be asked of me!” My peers are **** near useless bubbleheads. On voting day, three quarters stayed in bed. They play a dumb political game Saying both sides are the same And let our country drown in the watershed. Some rail and rightly blame the establishment As if they understood what that really meant; They know the country’s out of hand But somehow they don’t understand The folks they voted in are to our detriment. My peers are equally divided bubbleheads Half of their brain cells completely dead. Their parents taught them so little That they are caught in the middle They believe each word their crazy leader said.
0
Dec 2, 2017
Dec 2, 2017 at 6:11 PM UTC
BLOWING TAPS
I used to be an avid libertarian Now I am a vocal egalitarian. I see that Republicans are Rehearsing to acclaim a Tsar, Contemptuous of anything agrarian. My peers are equally divided bubbleheads Half of their brain cells completely dead. Their parents taught them so little That they are caught in the middle They believe each word their crazy leader said. The USA is not a pure democracy, The only thing pure here is hypocrisy. Voters sit on their hands And applaud the brass bands Saying, ”What else can anybody ask of me!” My peers are equally divided bubbleheads Half of their brain cells completely dead. Their parents taught them so little That they are caught in the middle They believe each word their crazy leader said. The USA is not a pure democracy, The only thing pure here is hypocrisy. Voters sit on their hands And applaud the brass bands Saying, ”What else can be asked of me!” My peers are **** near useless bubbleheads. On voting day, three quarters stayed in bed. They play a dumb political game Saying both sides are the same And let our country drown in the watershed. Some rail and rightly blame the establishment As if they understood what that really meant; They know the country’s out of hand But somehow they don’t understand The folks they voted in are to our detriment. My peers are equally divided bubbleheads Half of their brain cells completely dead. Their parents taught them so little That they are caught in the middle They believe each word their crazy leader said.
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40
I’ve seen trees in white dust covered in red barks so to lean asking the dark-skinned civilian soldier to dance, to **** as cranes stood awfully still in the night vigil of unsupported rhythmic rant, as mosque songs flew in cacophony with her mental amber, whose face drips off at semi-covered sick puddle with dissolved soft tissues in magnificent soccer performance and entering an expensive trance to answer foster homes or metro-stop problems selling large and loud fried mechanisms of lively things, of trendy modes of being, as borrowed bikes lie unruly besides the rock, not locked but saddled down not the saddened frown of foreigners, British consuls, forced English speakers or almost bald kindly smiling losers that protests this portrayal, oh-so-heavily in cynicism’s eye, in the proud rooster display of really bad water quality as I choose to not holler my soul out nakedly there, but over here where the prettiest girl in a hijab does smile at her pious children playing wild, such bliss, that I would never know from the white thick films of her grandfather that is mean to say, “someone down that ancestral seam must have done something.” implying folly, nothingness in our libertarian mistletoe waltzing in suits and formal wear all andante in terminating station’s bugle’s sheer force at its permissive admittance of goodbyes, in wispy accents that bothers your courageous boss’s college graduate daughter at the cruel light-blue decoration bulbs draped across coconut trees that never fruit and hence is safe for the street at the murals and skateboarding sites overfilled with graffitied mathematical equations in proud display of young idealism at freshly brought cheap soy sauce smells rising high over no chimneys and new energy for those without another home to smile wistfully before bumping into the traffic lights, running amok, declaring themselves chickens.
0
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 10:15 AM UTC
city dusk
I’ve seen trees in white dust covered in red barks so to lean asking the dark-skinned civilian soldier to dance, to **** as cranes stood awfully still in the night vigil of unsupported rhythmic rant, as mosque songs flew in cacophony with her mental amber, whose face drips off at semi-covered sick puddle with dissolved soft tissues in magnificent soccer performance and entering an expensive trance to answer foster homes or metro-stop problems selling large and loud fried mechanisms of lively things, of trendy modes of being, as borrowed bikes lie unruly besides the rock, not locked but saddled down not the saddened frown of foreigners, British consuls, forced English speakers or almost bald kindly smiling losers that protests this portrayal, oh-so-heavily in cynicism’s eye, in the proud rooster display of really bad water quality as I choose to not holler my soul out nakedly there, but over here where the prettiest girl in a hijab does smile at her pious children playing wild, such bliss, that I would never know from the white thick films of her grandfather that is mean to say, “someone down that ancestral seam must have done something.” implying folly, nothingness in our libertarian mistletoe waltzing in suits and formal wear all andante in terminating station’s bugle’s sheer force at its permissive admittance of goodbyes, in wispy accents that bothers your courageous boss’s college graduate daughter at the cruel light-blue decoration bulbs draped across coconut trees that never fruit and hence is safe for the street at the murals and skateboarding sites overfilled with graffitied mathematical equations in proud display of young idealism at freshly brought cheap soy sauce smells rising high over no chimneys and new energy for those without another home to smile wistfully before bumping into the traffic lights, running amok, declaring themselves chickens.
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17
I used to be an avid libertarian Now I am a vocal egalitarian. I see that Republicans are Rehearsing to acclaim a Tsar, Contemptuous of anything agrarian. My peers are equally divided bubbleheads Half of their brain cells completely dead. Their parents taught them so little That they are caught in the middle They believe each word their crazy leader said. The USA is not a pure democracy, The only thing pure here is hypocrisy. Voters sit on their hands And applaud the brass bands Saying, ”What else can anybody ask of me!” My peers are equally divided bubbleheads Half of their brain cells completely dead. Their parents taught them so little That they are caught in the middle They believe each word their crazy leader said. The USA is not a pure democracy, The only thing pure here is hypocrisy. Voters sit on their hands And applaud the brass bands Saying, ”What else can be asked of me!” My peers are **** near useless bubbleheads. On voting day, three quarters stayed in bed. They play a dumb political game Saying both sides are the same And let our country drown in the watershed. Some rail and rightly blame the establishment As if they understood what that really meant; They know the country’s out of hand But somehow they don’t understand The folks they voted in are to our detriment. My peers are equally divided bubbleheads Half of their brain cells completely dead. Their parents taught them so little That they are caught in the middle They believe each word their crazy leader said.
0
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 3:10 AM UTC
BLOWING TAPS
I used to be an avid libertarian Now I am a vocal egalitarian. I see that Republicans are Rehearsing to acclaim a Tsar, Contemptuous of anything agrarian. My peers are equally divided bubbleheads Half of their brain cells completely dead. Their parents taught them so little That they are caught in the middle They believe each word their crazy leader said. The USA is not a pure democracy, The only thing pure here is hypocrisy. Voters sit on their hands And applaud the brass bands Saying, ”What else can anybody ask of me!” My peers are equally divided bubbleheads Half of their brain cells completely dead. Their parents taught them so little That they are caught in the middle They believe each word their crazy leader said. The USA is not a pure democracy, The only thing pure here is hypocrisy. Voters sit on their hands And applaud the brass bands Saying, ”What else can be asked of me!” My peers are **** near useless bubbleheads. On voting day, three quarters stayed in bed. They play a dumb political game Saying both sides are the same And let our country drown in the watershed. Some rail and rightly blame the establishment As if they understood what that really meant; They know the country’s out of hand But somehow they don’t understand The folks they voted in are to our detriment. My peers are equally divided bubbleheads Half of their brain cells completely dead. Their parents taught them so little That they are caught in the middle They believe each word their crazy leader said.
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40
(alter knit lee tie tilled - Field Day For A Nihilist). Hunger for knowledge vis avis car ear ring (and car rue ming) cerebrum formulated, integrated, promulgated personal perception to the point of no return, and inadvertently brought to fruition basic, dogmatic, enigmatic, fatalistic heuristic life lessons. The fabulist, dualistic capacity averred viz Zoroastrianism figuratively pitched this contemplative, furtive, intuitive literate organic, realistic, universalistic, wanderer yearning instinctive modalities metamorphosing this quizzically opportunistic, philosophically naturalistic, officially matt tea real list tic, and sometime prophesying prognosticating probing outlier. As a nonestablishmentarian libertarian, joy riding heretic, feasting dishabille *** I contemplated the capacity qua Duality of human being to co-exist inside the labyrinth of mental learning. Quite often reconciliation between the angel of come passion stood opposite intent (with minimal effort to foment) malicious intent toward evil. This constant tug of war (within depths of psyche) perched psychological state upon precarious pivot. Balance between righteousness verses barb bar rick ken of villainy engendered warp and woof of noble might undermined via ignoble, infamous injudicious threnody thru the countless millennia, when many an outstanding wizard served as a prime mover and shaker to boost betterment of so called civilized state with the bane of anarchy, disintegration, gallimaufry always in the vanguard. Manifold milieus, which witnessed civilization rise and fall became bereft of equilibrium be tween forces of growth and decay. The feature of intransigence (as a free roaming derelict agent) and dominant characteristic of contemporary society.
0
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 7:47 PM UTC
Antithetical Agent Provocateur
(alter knit lee tie tilled - Field Day For A Nihilist). Hunger for knowledge vis avis car ear ring (and car rue ming) cerebrum formulated, integrated, promulgated personal perception to the point of no return, and inadvertently brought to fruition basic, dogmatic, enigmatic, fatalistic heuristic life lessons. The fabulist, dualistic capacity averred viz Zoroastrianism figuratively pitched this contemplative, furtive, intuitive literate organic, realistic, universalistic, wanderer yearning instinctive modalities metamorphosing this quizzically opportunistic, philosophically naturalistic, officially matt tea real list tic, and sometime prophesying prognosticating probing outlier. As a nonestablishmentarian libertarian, joy riding heretic, feasting dishabille *** I contemplated the capacity qua Duality of human being to co-exist inside the labyrinth of mental learning. Quite often reconciliation between the angel of come passion stood opposite intent (with minimal effort to foment) malicious intent toward evil. This constant tug of war (within depths of psyche) perched psychological state upon precarious pivot. Balance between righteousness verses barb bar rick ken of villainy engendered warp and woof of noble might undermined via ignoble, infamous injudicious threnody thru the countless millennia, when many an outstanding wizard served as a prime mover and shaker to boost betterment of so called civilized state with the bane of anarchy, disintegration, gallimaufry always in the vanguard. Manifold milieus, which witnessed civilization rise and fall became bereft of equilibrium be tween forces of growth and decay. The feature of intransigence (as a free roaming derelict agent) and dominant characteristic of contemporary society.
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44
*who said monks are desperate to get laid? when they can buy an hour's worth of, two month's worth of a gym membership in a brothel? pwah boys gonna get nasty! really? pwau(h) boys gonna get gnasty? locksmith and shovel... we're gonna save rapunzel on the words: go! double! oh look, 'ere they come 'ere they come, the southhampton f.c. fans - oh when the saints... oh when the saints - come marching in... oi! pwah boys... god laid... and i didn't even have to eat at a restaurant, and pay for me and her... just ate her **** out, and that was a prepaid meal.* there's no such thing, as a poltical view... it doesn't exist,            that statement is either a misnomer of the word political, or in compound form: a fallacy...                 there are no views in politics... politics isn't about having a label ascribed to yourself, so you can achieve a stasis...             i really over-exaggerated the point i'm trying to make...     so let me simplify...       there are, no "political" views,        because in politics, there are only motives! it's the principle of a monetary system! there simply aren't "political" views... there are only motives...    because that's the prime principle of politics; it's the basis for third-party exchange       via a $ or a £...          strange how 20th century psychoanalysts didn't allow themselves to encompass this unit... ego (1), superego (1 + 2), id (0), and then £ (∞)...                           this really looks like ******** by now...              all i wanted to say: there are no political "views"... by the definition of politics, id est rei publicae...      politics-in-itself, it isn't about having a liberal or a libertarian, a communist, a ****            a conservative         point of view... there are no views in the game of politics, there are only motives, and these collapse and self-equate themselves as... simply... self-interests,   and that's politics shoved into a nutshell; **** me... it's not that complicated.
0
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 1:28 PM UTC
complex misnomer (pwah boys)
*who said monks are desperate to get laid? when they can buy an hour's worth of, two month's worth of a gym membership in a brothel? pwah boys gonna get nasty! really? pwau(h) boys gonna get gnasty? locksmith and shovel... we're gonna save rapunzel on the words: go! double! oh look, 'ere they come 'ere they come, the southhampton f.c. fans - oh when the saints... oh when the saints - come marching in... oi! pwah boys... god laid... and i didn't even have to eat at a restaurant, and pay for me and her... just ate her **** out, and that was a prepaid meal.* there's no such thing, as a poltical view... it doesn't exist,            that statement is either a misnomer of the word political, or in compound form: a fallacy...                 there are no views in politics... politics isn't about having a label ascribed to yourself, so you can achieve a stasis...             i really over-exaggerated the point i'm trying to make...     so let me simplify...       there are, no "political" views,        because in politics, there are only motives! it's the principle of a monetary system! there simply aren't "political" views... there are only motives...    because that's the prime principle of politics; it's the basis for third-party exchange       via a $ or a £...          strange how 20th century psychoanalysts didn't allow themselves to encompass this unit... ego (1), superego (1 + 2), id (0), and then £ (∞)...                           this really looks like ******** by now...              all i wanted to say: there are no political "views"... by the definition of politics, id est rei publicae...      politics-in-itself, it isn't about having a liberal or a libertarian, a communist, a ****            a conservative         point of view... there are no views in the game of politics, there are only motives, and these collapse and self-equate themselves as... simply... self-interests,   and that's politics shoved into a nutshell; **** me... it's not that complicated.
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Jesus was a Liberal, He partied with the rabble, He’d a brazen disregard for the law,   So said the Pharisees... They thought him full of heresies; He was stuck firmly in their craw…   They thought him radical and tragic But didn't know the DEEPER magic, "Let's trap this friggin' upstart", said they   His father, a staunch conservative, Set down some rules, preservative Of people that he chose back in the day.   *Then there’s the Holy Spirit, or "Hoppy" as he likes to be called,   He’s harder to pin-down politically… and he has no time for tarrying,   On social issues, he's had no comment, or none has yet been scrawled,   But rumor has it he's backing the Libertarian*
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Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 9:50 AM UTC
Trinity