if you’ll pardon me complaining about this publicly: some of the meanest mfs i’ve met online are internet-poisoned communists. If i weren’t already a marxist-leninist, i would have some very unsavory ideas about what communists are like.
Lemmygrad and Hexbear are very nice places, thank you comrades _ … but elsewhere, even IRL, i’ve met incredibly rude people calling themselves communists and i need to stress this: if you want people on our side, you need to give good impressions of what we’re like. Don’t be hostile or dismissive or just violently anti-social. If you have to explain something for the millionth time to yet another liberal or anarchist… do it [insert Sankara quote], or at least find a nice way of saying you don’t want to. Save your offensive capabilities for people who deserve it. And please, PLEASE, go outside occasionally. IRL interaction is healthy, and will quickly kill any terminally online behaviours you might have. Maybe join an org while you’re at it ;)
i’ll stop stating the obvious now. Have a great day, comrades.
I remember a buncha Maoists dogpiling me on FB, referring to me as little more than a petit-bourgeois LARPer worthy of the same vengeant hatred we hold for all rentiers.
I had made a joke about which stock I should pump some money into after Ansarallah blew up a shit ton of Saudi oil. A joke. That then devolved into the worst nothing-ass struggle session you’ve ever seen over whether or not one can be proletarian and own stocks.
I had like $50 to my name at the time. I wasn’t asking for genuine investment advice. Still, terminally online communists find a way…
No, everything has to be serious at all times and we cannot find any humor in the absurdity of hell world. The last time I smiled was on August 19th, 1991. I wear a dirty ushanka at all times, do not shave, and only take cold sponge baths because hot running water is bourgeoisie decadence. Every day at exactly noon I have the same meal of an expired Maoist MRE I store in a pit covered in old issues of a revolutionary newspaper. I sleep in a bed made of flags from every failed revolution so that they are never forgotten. In the evenings I stare at a picture of vodka by candlelight, but I do not allow myself to drink because there is nothing to celebrate. Every local org has banned me after I attempted to split it by assassinating the leadership. There is no plumbing in my house I shit in a brass bucket with a picture of Gonzalo and Deng french kissing in the bottom of it. My house is actually an overturned T34 in an abandoned junkyard in Wisconsin. I have a single friend in this world and it is a tapeworm named Bordiga that I met after ingesting spoiled borscht on 9/11 in the ruins of building 7 (I blew it up after finding that a nominally leftist NGO inside of it wasn’t sufficiently anti-imperialist, the attacks on the world trade center were a perfect revolutionary moment for me to enact direct praxis against liberalism). My source of income is various MLM schemes in the former soviet bloc that have been running for so long no one remembers who I am, they just keep sending money. I have not paid taxes since McGovern lost the Democratic nomination for president and my faith in electoralism died more brutally than my childhood dog after it got into an entire jar of tylenol. I own 29 fully automatic rusted kalashnikovs and three crates of ammunition entirely incompatible with them or any other firearms I own. My double PHD in marxist economics and 18th century Swiss philosophy (required to understand Engels) sits over the fireplace of my home, my fireplace is a salvaged drum from a 1950s washing machine that was recalled for locking children inside of it. I chose that washing machine model on purpose because I am anti-natalist. During the latest BLM protests I firebombed a Nikes outlet in the middle of a peaceful candlelit vigil. William F Buckley and I wrote hatemail to one another for 47 years until my final letter gave him an aneurysm. The only water I drink is from puddles. George Lucas and I dropped acid together during an MKULTRA southern baptist summer camp and he went on to write the movie Willow about our time together. The best way to test whether an electrical wire is live is to drool on it and shrimp salad is racist. You can make an IED out of potassium and the instructions are online thanks to Timothy McVey, who was actually a committed antifascist communist slandered by the deep state as part of operation condor. Every time a liberal files a restraining order against me, I carve a mark into the wall. I am running out of walls. When Amerika finally collapses I will be ready to lead the revolution. I am very smart and people like being around me.
Cracks me up every time.
Why is shrimp salad racist? Is this more esoteric terminally online lore that I didn’t know about or did this beautiful bastard just snatch that sentence out of the ether, wholly formed?
im sorry that happened to you, or well done idk im not reading all of that
lol you should it’s a top tier copypasta from an actual comment in a thread from a hexbear post a couple years back.
☢️ 🌚 ☢️
Fr though, shorting US interests is going to turn that $50 into FALC one day. That’s some payout.
Marx owned stocks, the fucking shitlib.