The pearl of Edgeworld
Ahhhhhh . . . so you’ve come. *X
seated in a chair, one leg folded demurely over another* You’ve come, you’ve come, you’ve come. At last.
I stand here at times, I wait, I watch through the gilded-iron crosswork latticework window 50% titanium-silver, I observe the shuffling sounds of those coming into the room, like penitents, like prisoners. But you are here voluntarily; are you not?
There is a great thing going on here: the chase of dreams.
A stained glass window, portraying knights against black jet fighters, explodes inwards, scattering glass shards: [pretty, highly reflective] in miscellaneous piles that stretch from X’s slippered feet to the paintings on the wall, regal looking, of American presidents in their self-chosen forms. The glass, the paintings, and the slippered feet combine to make this a surreal environment. It’s like the nineteenth century song, “The World Turned Upside Down” or the twenty-first century song, “Let Me Love You” by Justin Bieber of Ontario. X of Ontario raises one vagina-fucking finger.
Listen to me. Whenever you turn your head, there will be sudden flitting motion in the faraway peripheral zones. Wherever you put your foot, there will be a sense of hardwood yielding to soft quicksand. But never mind, never mind: these are just imaginings, just like magic is imaginary, amirite?
*Xtasorcery claps hands together once*
You’re still in my world, the World of Dark Sport. X is the Master of Dark Sport. His ways become its ways. His spoken accent gets magnified a millionfold in all Sport’s ways and crannies and nooks.
Do not deceive yourself though; there is a price to pay to enter. Entrance costs you your soul, dedicated to previous ways, which now yield to all of Dark Sport. You must promise to sustain your new self, badgered as it may be by bullshit and avarice.
Here. It begins.
In the year 2016, I found WordPress. Or rather WordPress found me. In the course of examining blogs online, I began to realize rather belatedly that there was a platform here; one could be “deplatformed” or have the rug yanked out from under oneself; one could “monetize” one’s site, or make moolah from it; one could interlink hyperlinks with other similar sites. For example Dalrock of Techno-Christianity fame could write “Enjoy the Decline” and link to “Captain Capitalism” on a competing Canadian blog, blogspot.ca.
Thousands of eager horse riders were chomping at the bits to get going and enter this competition. I joined them, posting my ads around Hamilton, Ontario. It was a quick way to get started. I needed the speed.
The United States has forever been the biggest kid on the block. As such, it gets to set the rules and doesn’t have to hear complaints. Yet it is a fair hegemon. It does listen to grievances. Sometimes it takes an airliner slamming into a gynormous tower to get it to wake up and pay attention, but if you step on its toe it wakes up. Only sometimes it takes a lot to get it to wake up. Earlier doomsayers are often pooh-poohed. They should know better than to take it to their superiors. Their superiors don’t listen.
My ads were actually hand-written for a while. Then I started printing them. I went through 20 iterations — 20 different websites — before I ran into this beautiful design, beautiful content.
I am six foot one, strong, willing. I have long, flowing hair which is more convenient for me, personally, than short hair would be. I have Mediterranean genes mixed in with my Slavic, and the hairiness encourages my head hair to come out fast.
Are you still listening? Do you want to jump to the action?
At the end of many X-pieces (these articles) you can click on the blue letters to go somewhere else.