Personality number 2 in “Darkness at Noon”

From Jung’s autobiography:

Naturally I compensated my inner insecurity by an outward show of security, or — to put it better — the defect compensated itself without the intervention of my will. That is, I found myself being guilty and at the same time wishing to be innocent. Somewhere deep in the background I always knew that I was two persons. One was the son of my parents, who went to school and was less intelligent, attentive, hardworking, decent, and clean than many other boys. The other was grown up — old, in fact — sceptical, mistrustful, remote from the world of men, but close to nature, the earth, the sun, the moon, the weather, all living creatures, and above all close to the night, to dreams, and to whatever “God” worked directly in him. I put “God” in quotation marks here. For nature seemed, like myself, to have been set aside by God as non-divine, although created by Him as an expression of Himself. Nothing could persuade me that “in the image of God” applied only to man. In fact it seemed to me that the high mountains, the rivers, lakes, trees, flowers, and animals far better exemplified the essence of God than men with their ridiculous clothes, their meanness, vanity, mendacity, and abhorrent egotism — all qualities with which I was only too familiar from myself, that is, from personality No. 1, the schoolboy of 1890. Besides his world there existed another realm, like a temple in which anyone who entered was transformed and suddenly overpowered by a vision of the whole cosmos, so that he could only marvel and admire, forgetful of himself. Here lived the “Other,” who knew God as a hidden, personal, and at the same time supra-personal secret. Here nothing separated man from God; indeed, it was as though the human mind looked down upon Creation simultaneously with God.

What I am here unfolding, sentence by sentence, is something I was then not conscious of in any particular way, though I sensed it with an overpowering premonition and intensity of feeling. At such times I knew I was worthy of myself, that I was my true self. As soon as I was alone, I could pass over into this state. I therefore sought the peace and solitude of this “Other,” personality No. 2.

The play and counterplay between personalities No. 1 and No. 2, which has run through my whole life, has nothing to do with a “split” or dissociation in the ordinary medical sense. On the contrary, it is played out in every individual. In my life No. 2 has been of prime importance, and I have always tried to make room for anything that wanted to come to me from within. He is a typical figure, but he is perceived only by the very few. Most people’s conscious understanding is not sufficient to realise that he is also what they are.

Church gradually became a place of torment to me. For there men dared to preach aloud — I am tempted to say, shamelessly — about God, about His intentions and actions. There people were exhorted to have those feelings and to believe that secret which I knew to be the deepest, innermost certainty, a certainty not to be betrayed by a single word. I could only conclude that apparently no one knew about this secret, not even the parson, for otherwise no one would have dared to expose the mystery of God in public and to profane those inexpressible feelings with stale sentimentalities. Moreover, I was certain that this was the wrong way to reach God, for I knew, knew from experience, that this grace was accorded only to one who fulfilled the will of God without reservation. This was preached from the pulpit, too, but always on the assumption that revelation had made the will of God plain. To me, on the other hand, it seemed the most obscure and unknown thing of all. To me it seemed that one’s duty was to explore daily the will of God. I did not do that, but I felt sure that I would do it as soon as an urgent reason for so doing presented itself. Personality No. 1 preoccupied me too much of the time. It often seemed to me that religious precepts were being put in place of the will of God — which could be so unexpected and so alarming — for the sole purpose of sparing people the necessity for understanding God’s will. I grew more and more sceptical, and my father’s sermons and those of other parsons became acutely embarrassing to me. All the people about me seemed to take the jargon for granted, and the dense obscurity that emanated from it; thoughtlessly they swallowed all the contradictions, such as that God is omniscient and therefore foresaw all human history, and that he actually created human beings so that they would have to sin, and nevertheless forbids them to sin and even punishes them by eternal damnation in hell-fire.

[…]

My mother was a very good mother to me. She had a hearty animal warmth, cooked wonderfully, and was most companionable and pleasant. She was very stout, and a ready listener. She also liked to talk, and her chatter was like the gay splashing of a fountain. She had a decided literary gift, as well as taste and depth. But this quality never properly emerged; it remained hidden beneath the semblance of a kindly, fat old woman, extremely hospitable, and possessor of a great sense of humour. She held all the conventional opinions a person was obliged to have, but then her unconscious personality would suddenly put in an appearance. That personality was unexpectedly powerful: a sombre, imposing figure possessed of unassailable authority — and no bones about it. I was sure that she consisted of two personalities, one innocuous and human, the other uncanny. This other emerged only now and then, but each time it was unexpected and frightening. She would then speak as if talking to herself, but what she said was aimed at me and usually struck to the core of my being, so that I was stunned into silence.

The first time I remember this happening was when I was about six years old. At that time we had neighbours who were fairly well off. They had three children, the eldest a boy of about my own age, and two younger sisters. They were city folk who, especially on Sundays, dressed their children in a manner that seemed ridiculous to me — patent-leather shoes, white frills, little white gloves. Even on week-days the children were scrubbed and combed. They had fancy manners and anxiously kept their distance from the tough, rude boy with tattered trousers, holes in his shoes, and dirty hands. My mother annoyed me no end with her comparisons and admonishments: “Now look at those nice children, so well brought up and polite, but you behave like a little lout.” Such exhortations humiliated me, and I decided to give the boy a hiding — which I did. His mother was furious, hastened to mine and made a great to-do over my act of violence. My mother was properly horrified and gave me a lecture, spiced with tears, longer and more passionate than anything I had ever heard from her before. I had not been conscious of any fault; on the contrary, I was feeling pretty pleased with myself, for it seemed to me that I had somehow made amends for the incongruous presence of this stranger in our village. Deeply awed by my mother’s excitement, I withdrew penitently to my table behind our old spinet and began playing with my bricks. For some time there was silence in the room. My mother had taken her usual seat by the window, and was knitting. Then I heard her muttering to herself, and from occasional words that I picked up I gathered that she was thinking about the incident, but was now taking another view of it. Suddenly she said aloud, “Of course, one should never have kept a litter like that!” I realised at once that she was talking about those “dressed-up monkeys.” Her favourite brother was a hunter who kept dogs and was always talking about dog breeding, mongrels, purebreds, and litters. To my relief I realised that she too regarded those odious children as inferior whelps, and that her scolding therefore need not be taken at face value. But I also knew, even at that age, that I must keep perfectly still and not come out triumphantly with: “You see, you think as I do!” She would have repudiated the idea indignantly: “You horrid boy, how dare you pretend such a thing about your mother!” I conclude from this that I must already have had earlier experiences of a similar nature which I have forgotten.

I tell this story because at the time of my growing religious scepticism there was another instance which threw light on my mother’s twofold nature. At table one day the talk turned on the dullness of the tunes of certain hymns. A possible revision of the hymnal was mentioned. At that my mother murmured, “O du Liebe meiner Liebe, du verwünschte2 Seligkeit” (O thou love of my love, thou accursed bliss). As in the past I pretended that I had not heard and was careful not to cry out in glee, in spite of my feeling of triumph.

There was an enormous difference between my mother’s two personalities. That was why as a child I often had anxiety dreams about her. By day she was a loving mother, but at night she seemed uncanny. Then she was like one of those seers who is at the same time a strange animal, like a priestess in a bear’s cave. Archaic and ruthless; ruthless as truth and nature. At such moments she was the embodiment of what I have called the “natural mind.”3

I too have this archaic nature, and in me it is linked with the gift — not always pleasant — of seeing people and things as they are. I can let myself be deceived from here to Tipperary when I don’t want to recognise something, and yet at bottom I know quite well how matters really stand. In this I am like a dog — he can be tricked, but he always smells it out in the end. This “insight” is based on instinct, or on a “participation mystique” with others. It is as if the “eyes of the background” do the seeing in an impersonal act of perception.

This was something I did not realise until much later, when some very strange things happened to me. For instance, there was the time when I recounted the life story of a man without knowing him. It was at the wedding of a friend of my wife’s; the bride and her family were all entirely unknown to me. During the meal I was sitting opposite a middle-aged gentleman with a long, handsome beard, who had been introduced to me as a barrister. We were having an animated conversation about criminal psychology. In order to answer a particular question of his, I made up a story to illustrate it, embellishing it with all sorts of details. While I was telling my story, I noticed that a quite different expression came over the man’s face, and a silence fell on the table. Very much abashed, I stopped speaking. Thank heavens we were already at the dessert, so I soon stood up and went into the lounge of the hotel. There I withdrew into a corner, lit a cigar, and tried to think over the situation. At this moment one of the other guests who had been sitting at my table came over and asked reproachfully, “How did you ever come to commit such a frightful indiscretion?” “Indiscretion?” “Why yes, that story you told.” “But I made it all up!”

To my amazement and horror it turned out that I had told the story of the man opposite me, exactly and in all its details. I also discovered, at this moment, that I could no longer remember a single word of the story — even to this day I have been unable to recall it. In his Selbstschau Zschokke4 describes a similar incident: how once, in an inn, he was able to unmask an unknown young man as a thief, because he had seen the theft being committed before his inner eye.

In the course of my life it has often happened to me that I suddenly knew something which I really could not know at all. The knowledge came to me as though it were my own idea. It was the same with my mother. She did not know what she was saying; it was like a voice wielding absolute authority, which said exactly what fitted the situation.

[…]

But then came the moments when her second personality burst forth, and what she said on those occasions was so true and to the point that I trembled before it. If my mother could then have been pinned down, I would have had a wonderful interlocutor.

Memories Dreams Reflections – An Autobiography by Carl Jung

The emergence of this second personality is illustrated in the novel Darkness at Noon using psychosomatic pains as a metaphor.

He could only hold his thoughts by writing them down; but writing exhausted him so much that he could at the most force himself to it for an hour or two a day. The rest of the time his brain worked on its own account.

Rubashov had always believed that he knew himself rather well. Being without moral prejudices, he had no illusions about the phenomenon called the “first person singular,” and had taken for granted, without particular emotion, that this phenomenon was endowed with certain impulses which people are generally reluctant to admit. Now, when he stood with his forehead against the window or suddenly stopped on the third black tile, he made unexpected discoveries. He found out that those processes wrongly known as “monologues” are really dialogues of a special kind; dialogues in which one partner remains silent while the other, against all grammatical rules, addresses him as “I” instead of “you”, in order to creep into his confidence and to fathom his intentions; but the silent partner just remains silent, shuns observation and even refuses to be localized in time and space.

Now, however, it seemed to Rubashov that the habitually silent partner spoke sometimes, without being addressed and without any visible pretext; his voice sounded totally unfamiliar to Rubashov, who listened in honest wonder and found that his own lips were moving. These experiences held nothing mystic or mysterious; they were of a quite concrete character; and by his observations Rubashov gradually became convinced that there was a thoroughly tangible component in this first person singular, which had remained silent through all these years and now had started to speak.

[…]

The old compulsion to think through the minds of others had again taken hold of him; he sat in Ivanov’s place and saw himself through Ivanov’s eyes, in the position of the accused, as once he had seen Richard and Little Loewy. He saw this degraded Rubashov, the shadow of the former companion, and he understood the mixture of tenderness and contempt with which Ivanov had treated him. During their discussion, he had repeatedly asked himself whether Ivanov was sincere or hypocritical; whether he was laying traps for him, or really wanted to show him a way of escape. Now, putting himself in Ivanov’s position, he realized that Ivanov was sincere—as much so or as little, as he himself had been towards Richard or Little Loewy.

These reflections also had the form of a monologue, but along familiar lines; that newly discovered entity, the silent partner, did not participate in them. Although it was supposed to be the person addressed in all monologues, it remained dumb, and its existence was limited to a grammatical abstraction called the “first person singular”. Direct questions and logical meditations did not induce it to speak; its utterances occurred without visible cause and, strangely enough, always accompanied by a sharp attack of toothache. Its mental sphere seemed to be composed of such various and disconnected parts as the folded hands of the Pietà, Little Loewy’s cats, the tune of the song with the refrain of “come to dust”, or a particular sentence which Arlova had once spoken on a particular occasion. Its means of expression were equally fragmentary: for instance, the compulsion to rub one’s pince-nez on one’s sleeve, the impulse to touch the light patch on the wall of Ivanov’s room, the uncontrollable movements of the lips which murmured such senseless sentences as “I shall pay”, and the dazed state induced by daydreams of past episodes in one’s life.

Rubashov tried to study this newly discovered entity very thoroughly during his wanderings through the cell; with the shyness of emphasizing the first person singular customary in the Party, he had christened it the “grammatical fiction”. He probably had only a few weeks left to live, and he felt a compelling urge to clear up this matter, to “think it to a logical conclusion”. But the realm of the “grammatical fiction” seemed to begin just where the “thinking to a conclusion” ended. It was obviously an essential part of its being, to remain out of the reach of logical thought, and then to take one unawares, as from an ambush, and attack one with daydreams and toothache. Thus, Rubashov passed the entire seventh day of his imprisonment, the third after the first hearing, re-living a past period of his existence—namely, his relation with the girl Arlova, who had been shot.

The exact moment in which, in spite of his resolutions, he had slid into the day-dream was as impossible to establish afterwards as the moment in which one falls asleep. On the morning of this seventh day, he had worked on his notes, then, presumably, he had stood up to stretch his legs a bit—and only when he heard the rattling of the key in the lock did he wake up to the fact that it was already midday, and that he had walked back and forth in the cell for hours on end. He even had hung the blanket round his shoulders because, presumably also for several hours, he had been rhythmically shaken by a kind of ague and had felt the nerve of his tooth pulsing in his temples. He absently spooned out his bowl which the orderlies had filled with their ladles, and continued his walk. The warder, who observed him from time to time through the spy-hole, saw that he had shiveringly hunched up his shoulders and that his lips were moving.

Darkness at Noon by Arthur Koestler

It’s a great novel so far (H/T Nick Mason), I’m writing down this note so I can pay attention to it again. Psychosomatic flare-ups accompanying pangs of budding awareness seem to be the primary artistic theme of the work, so it’s much clearer when you read it with that in mind. The heady disputes of communist doctrine are also more believable if you think of them in the same light as Foxe’s Book of Martyrs. Communist cells were basically house churches for secular humanists, gripped with the same religious fervor as the early Christian church.

I’ve mentioned before that I feel like I’m sharing a brain with an old man, and that everything I do now is essentially buying time for him to work–an intentional choice of the marginal genius strategy. I wasn’t born an artfag, it’s something that happened to me when I burned myself out around the age of 20. The relative predominance of this second personality is both my greatest strength and my greatest weakness because he’s a perfect cynic and therefore completely honest but also completely disinterested in the future consequences of how I (we) spend time in the present. Obsessive-compulsive daydreaming sounds fun until it wrecks your life, but it also opens up a new dimension of action once you’ve learned to compartmentalize it (somewhat).

We now exist in a sort of loose timeshare arrangement. Once I hit the end of five or six trains of thoughts I’ll at least write down the topics in my notebook as potential blog posts. If I can’t remember how to expand the train of thought from the topic line then my rule is it either wasn’t important or, if it was, when it’s fully baked will reassert itself as a compulsive daydream.

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30 Responses to Personality number 2 in “Darkness at Noon”

  1. MM says:

    Of the utmost importance.
    I got so tired because of all the thoughts from reading this that I had to lay down and take a nap. Still very tired.
    The effect was compounded by the fact I had just finished watching something related so the synchronicity/increased connectedness was taxing on whatever it is that keeps you awake (partly reticular activation system for sure but whatever else).

    Note to future self: there are MANY lines of salience with this, probably more than ten that you do not want to miss.
    The most important lines of thought naturally have to do with consciousness.
    Do not miss one connection or interpretation because you spent alot of time on one/a few and don’t want to keep going. That’s lazy. Save the post and come back over the course of months/years if need be but don’t leave a stone unturned.

  2. MM says:

    I don’t understand the significance of this, but I heard it mentioned by Roger Penrose if any math brained ppl want to take a look:
    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Goodstein%27s_theorem
    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peano_axioms

    • Aeoli Pera says:

      The philosophical significance is that you can’t engage in reason without assumptions.

      • LOADED says:

        i always believed this didnt take me a whole manuscript thirty+ years into my life to realize it either.

        your instincts aside from the ones that help you survive (extended beyond baseline ones including being able to fight off a wolf or something of the sort) must really suck.

        like you learn all your social skills whereas savants in that category like me are naturally adept to it from a young age. you can criticize me by saying i dont have a lot of social success but i did at one point in my life and the problem is them not me to be perfectly frank.

        for the most part most people dont have the social instincts to keep up with me and thus form collective group rationalizations for why i should be a loner.

        this is what Akuma talks about on here sometimes too!

        • ShadoHand says:

          `this is what Akuma talks about on here sometimes too!`

          Yep and the rationalizations are always destructive and are really projections. Nobody wants to deal with reality and just ask.

          When they do ask, and you respond with the truth, theres just more projections and its your fault. Or your brain is broken. At a certain point it becomes abuse.

          One time I had to ask some guy for help to jump my old car. Rather than just engaging me in a friendly guy car chat. He accused me of being in a different world. Guy was a Boomer. Issue was the battery just went. Swapped it out later that day and it was most likely a bed cell.

          But this guy just accused me of being in a different world, rather than just dealing with the car issue. Albeit he was a Boomer so there was some mild sociopathy and a full blown case of Millenial Derangement Syndrome.

          This is why its easier to get along with Nogs at work and on the street. Dont engage with them any deeper than that. They have the correct street instincts to know this means you are smart and not to be fucked with. Ive had them they say this to me before. And once you have it down they will send shorty to come and show you a good time. Which if you decline she knows why and the games dont start, unless they are crazy nogs, or really stupid.

          I overheard one of them talking about me a few weeks back “Hes still the adult.” I overheard them say.

          They know the score and they know its not you and you are surrounded by your own people who have no racial awareness so you get pegged as the crazy guy. Really smart guy, but your not a Nazi, just have strong boundaries. So they wont fuck with you. I had one begging for mercy after we shared some choice words.

          Whites dont understand this. A lot of them have too much brainwashing to understand where you are coming from. Theyre locked into car, job, house reality. Even if they barely have that.

          A Hot White Woman (i.e. An 8+) will understand once you engage with her in conversation. I think this is mainly because they have to deal with Brutish idiotic males, and delusional females, all day so they understand where you are coming from better.

          • LOADED says:

            nah i would say most women are idiots. they lack the sheer ability to comprehend anything even themselves.

            • ShadoHand says:

              `nah i would say most women are idiots.`

              Below 8s are idiots. 5 and below are delusional especially in the current year. As they are mostly man hating cunts.

              6s require perfect Game to turn on your side. 7s are Nice. 8s and up are smarter on avg and will cooperate with you because they are fed up with dealing with brutish retatds all day.

              I once had an 8 cooking me food and buying me drinks without prompting from my mere presence. All the guys that found out about it thought it was because I had some Game Skill. But I dont. If your Test is on point you will act like man is suppossed too and she will fall in line and want you to win. Sometimes even being like “Honey, thats probably not a good idea because its going to destroy your masculinity and be autonomous.”

              9s are starved of masculine presence and love a little rough housing. They make some of the best day game sets as a small dose masculinity on their daily routine will get them dripping wet.

              10s dont exist.

              Its the men that are retarded brutish idiots that dont know how to think. Gammas really. Most men are Gammas. Make careless mistakes and errors. Shoot at allys. Mostly because they think any demonstration of smarts is somehow nerdy. And that any cooperation is Beta. Remember now, everything is a competition. Everything.

              Most men are also immature and put people down for fun.

              I cant tell you how many long term plans have been foiled because some idiot male couldnt just keep their mouths shut or behave in a respectable fashion, and viewed me merely breathing as a competition. A big component of this is toxic individualism. They think that if they do something and it doesnt directly effect them its not their problem. But what they fail to understand is that by attacking you they are destroying their ability to operate long term. Theres no collective and they will dig their heels in instead of just letting things be.

              Look its possible to have your cake and eat it too, but you need to surrounded yourself with good friends who can operate as a competent team. This is damn near impossible in the current year because guys would rather win the moment than the eternal battle. They dont realize by asserting dominance at all times they are actually attacking themselves. Most men are toxic narcissists, assholes really, and you cant run any operation with them. And they are everywhere. Hardly anyone got laid or had kids in the past 70 years without tricks or because some chick wanted to fix some guy.

            • LOADED says:

              some of the stuff you write is convincing. i think youre right that most men are gammas but why would an alpha allow this to happen?

              im probably an omega by default i have an obligation to prop up everything that the rest of the hierarchy does. unfortunately its not easy since i do my best to do just that but no one ever listens to reason.

              as for women looks arent everything. competency is probably more powerful in structuring the hierarchy for women than it is for men.

              that is why ugly women are oftentimes portrayed as beautiful.

              judging the aesthetics of women is much more difficult because men are attracted to all types of women so naturally you see actual ugly women outcompete and be manufactured to society as more beautiful than actually good-looking women!

          • Storm Bringer says:

            To be quite frank your generation and mine(including myself) are so judeizingly thralled that it will take generations of de-judification to save the folk entirely, and your use of “nah-zee” merely proves my point.

            • LOADED says:

              societal deterioration and eventual collapse or even just all out destruction like a nuclear war would show that the leadership is bad and will always be bad.

              the Jews are our leaders not by choice but by force and the leaders we actually do have a chance at choosing dont do much for us.

              but the whites have always been the ones crying wolf until the wolf actually came! the problem and situations at hand were amplified by white choices.

              there probably isnt much else to say that the restoration of our society will need good leadership and the ones at the top are just not doing it. nor will they ever.

  3. MM says:

    Actually really good re ahriman and cybernetic transhuman control.

    It does indeed seem true that humans are capable of being so much more conscious and fully present than we are in the modern world, and there is the perpetual risk of getting addicted to automation/escape (actually slavery) at the expense of that one undeniably magic thing about humans which is the direct conscious experience before filters and masks and technology and false identities (ie “MM” internet persona) and objects that are ultimately just expressions of an underlying reality.

    I get it though, Pinocchio has to take the pain and responsibility if he wants to be a real boy. And most people, judging from their actions, indeed do not want this. But they are miserable. This actually gives me hope, because people do not truly love being slaves, and will not until TPTB succeed (if it is possible) in methods that can totally reprogram human nature, the human soul, and whatever the field/action of consciousness is that allows choice. I suppose MKULTRA is a hint at what a brain might actually be, but I might need to settle down with this stuff for a while because its easy to go a little loopy.

    • Aeoli Pera says:

      > This actually gives me hope, because people do not truly love being slaves,

      The way I put it once is “People may choose Hell on the ballot but they don’t feel at home there.”

  4. MM says:

    Crazy idea: what if ppl more or less have the same feelings and these feelings correspond to mathematical structures/ ratios in
    some field and these map- STRUCTURALLY not subjectively, to certain feelings?

    The qualia can of course be different (but I am actually doubtful on it being infinitly so) but fundamentally, how many ways
    are there to feel about something? There are the very basics of ‘good’ vs ‘bad’ ‘afraid’ then basic states (states don’t necessarily last long)
    such as happy, sad, anxious, motivated, disgusted, hungry, thirsty, mysterious (actually thats a composite methinks, many of these others are too)
    then a couple dozen more minor emotions/feelings such as tired, lonely, nostalgic, and then maybe a couple hundred very rare feelings plus emotions
    and then several thousand plus unique experiences, including the various possible mental experiences that are combinations of
    other things and can include both the mental simulation of reality (‘known as internal’ all the way to total unrealized-as-false mass hallucination)
    and weird feelings/emotions (they are different-feelings determine meaning
    unless they are reframed or rebutted whilst emotions may not as they are more of a social mediation function methinks)

    (such as the classic schizophrenic ‘sliding over cold glass, mentally + a taste of aluminum + psychotic grandiosity
    + strong feeling of tragedy + many many internal voices perceived as external)

    I mean, wether you are a squid or a human- you have to make a decision. There isn’t an infinite way to do that and thus there should not
    be an infinite way to feel about it (experience can of course be massively divergent in both qualia and number of simultaneous inputs. One could imagine a consciousness with thousands of differently filtered sense organs feeding it).

    So you can build any state out of a composite of potentially fundamental feelings, sensory inputs, and other functions.

    Ie the classic (non threatened) ‘motivated’ experience (to simplify and generalize)= ‘good’ overall appraisal of state +moderate anxious+focus+’available’ to ‘high’ energy
    plus of course the physiologic reactions such as perhaps an increase in blood pressure, a feeling of needing to move.

    Oh an of course each feeling or state can have an amplitude, a strength (mildly sad, moderately sad, incredibly sad, etc)
    and differences in composite states can just be the relative amplitudes. In the way that a polychord will potentially feel very different
    if one of the chords is much lower in amplitude than the other. And same for the individual chord- the notes themselves can be different in volume,
    potentially giving another range of possibilities. Then the individual notes can have differing harmonics and modulations…

  5. LOADED says:

    most people are autistic nowadays. plain and simple. Neurotypicality is the opposite of how most people live their lives nowadays.

    if you think that neurotypicality is bad then you are an obvious autistic retard. this goes for anyone who thinks this.

    autism is a serious disorder characterized by an influx of nigger related traits. dont let em fool you most blacks are autistic as fuck.

    now for the crazy part….

    • ShadoHand says:

      `if you think that neurotypicality is bad then you are an obvious autistic retard. this goes for anyone who thinks this.`

      No Neurocrazies are absolutely insane. You communicate you need a crescent wrench and they hear that you are weak. They are literally broken and cant deal with reality.

      • LOADED says:

        how exactly do autists react in that situation? i dont think any differently. autists lack empathy. they cant put 2 and 2 together to think of anyone but themselves.

        NTs are retarded because they fail to see the bigger picture. they obviously want to help when they can but theyre too dumb to apply pressure when needed.

        • ShadoHand says:

          `autists lack empathy. they cant put 2 and 2 together to think of anyone but themselves.`

          Autists dont lack empathy. Autists have bounds of empathy. What your confusing here is Nuerocrazy talk for actual language. When a Nuerocrazy says an Autist lacks empathy what they mean is the Autist isnt doing what the Neurocrazy wants at that exact moment in time. Or they fail to understand what the NT says because the NT cant communicate properly. NTs act like drunken apea even when sober.

          Theres a picture I cant find right now trying to tell someone how to speak to an Autist. It tells you to speak directly to them with request. Idk about you but thats not on the Autists shoulders. Maybe NTs should learn to communicate like adults and not give vague hints about what they need or want.

          Adults communicate like Autists if that meme is to believed.

          Autists are superior and weak willed people dont like them because they can actually think properly. Sure some of them might get into psychopath territory if theyve lived in an insular bubble their whole lives but thats how NTs act 24/7 so you cant really hold it against them.

          Women hate them, not because they are unempathetic, but because they are too masculine and cant be controlled with lies like an NT can.

          Its all so tiresome dealing with this because it means our entire civilization is built upon cult like lies.

          `they obviously want to help when they can`

          Which is why most men are Gammas. They are just trying to help. Even if it wasnt asked for. Its a feminine trait. They are literally brain damaged. I cant stand them. They just cause problems.

          • LOADED says:

            im pretty sure NTs are better at communicating and empathizing than autists. i dunno where the misconstrued ideas you have are coming from tbh. because autists love to label stuff and because of this they put people in boxes. and it sucks.

            probably why youre always trying to label people.

        • ShadoHand says:

          `how exactly do autists react in that situation? i dont think any differently`

          If someone says that they need a crescent wrench an autist would give it to them. Or if they ask directly for assistsnce with something an Autist would give it.

          NTs just want to help for the sake of helping and then fuck everything up.

  6. ShadoHand says:

    `but why would an alpha allow this to happen?`

    Because to become Alpha in the modern era is to be brainwashed about things you shouldnt be. A lifetime of positive reinforcement will do that. Take the Alphas in sports for example. They probably go to therapy and its good for them. No Mental Health Whackjob will attack them because its bad for business.

    Anyone that tries to ascend the hierarchy will hit roadblocks too because Gammas have infected every command and control position since they now all live to maturity. Before these positions would have been staffed by Alphas or Greater Betas or a Sigma or two.

    So now the really truest Alphas, or Sigmas are stuck doing tasks and jobs way below their station. A lot are probably homeless living in camper vans or cars. Or forced to hide out in faraway countries.

    The control grid has been woven tight and only collapse or unimaginable violence will stop it.

  7. bicebicebice says:

    I just wanted to congratulate you americanos for winning the war against the european middle class using russia as a proxy, this week 50% of the total european middle class gets their savings wiped out due to cost of heating and electricity and next month 100% gets nilled or re-setted if you will….itz actually over, electricity fuel warmth heating yadda yadda is now a luxury commodity…

    looks like anoter win for America-Russia alliance vs the eu – folks itz fucked and over in europe we lost world war 3 :(

    • Aeoli Pera says:

      Well, if you aspire to be Amish, now’s your opportunity. I don’t mean that in a mean-spirited way, there’s wisdom in the book title “Collapse Now And Avoid the Rush”.

      • LOADED says:

        Aeoli i hate being the one to remind you but if you cant live in society and attain success right now then how will you survive the nuclear war?

        to be frank about this….the only contributing factor to humanitys ability to survive a nuclear war will rely on the imperative that we seek out other humans to band with.

        unfortunately for a lot of autists this wont happen and suffering will ensue for you folk.

        • Aeoli Pera says:

          Hey, I’m the lone voice in the autistic wilderness saying we need to make normie society work. But you’re correct that many won’t listen because they aren’t inclined to understand my argument that normie supremacism equals neanderthal supremacism.

          • LOADED says:

            all normies are neurotypicals but not all neurotypicals are normies. im case and point.

            Akuma confuses NTs with normies. normies are the ones who create cultural movements but NTs who are not normies are meant to lead them.

            that is pretty good reasoning you think?

        • Aeoli Pera says:

          To be fair, it’s an unnatural position.

          • LOADED says:

            normies have always existed but now they are degenerates who believe in morality over substance. they dont think about the consequences of how their morals will impact those who do not conform.

            they have marginalized themselves and others by not looking at a bigger picture!

      • bicebicebice says:

        >Amish officially endorsed @aeolipera.com
        “Well, if you aspire to be Amish, now’s your opportunity. I don’t mean that in a mean-spirited way, there’s wisdom in the book title “Collapse Now And Avoid the Rush”.”

        heh…looks like another win for bice!people are putting their freezed goods outside in order to save energy, however, there is a problem (a 10 000 BC old one…)..https://www.svt.se/nyheter/lokalt/uppsala/elva-vargar-i-huddunge-heby-uppsala-sprang-utanfor-koksfonstret-hos-familjen

        im sitting on a real shit computer atm, but someone filmed 11+ wolves in a pack roaming…itz looking like a Norse saga winter overhere… we “lost” and must return to…..

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