Something Poetry

Look at you flaunting in your parade waving your flag that defines you why are you no more than the sum of it's parts beyond the acronym you allot yourself with the stripe you decorate your life with and this metaphorical cage you lock yourself in they put the L in LGBT Lost of all nuances Loss all trace of humanity Lust for the sake of Lust Languish in your sexuality Deprived of the attention Dedicate a month to make light of your label Designed to such perfection Everyone's got a hand in the jar on this table De-pride your acclimation Don't let this identity treat me like a Judas Decide to let go of confirmation and every sleight won't be seen as prejudice Look at you insufferably aggressive about your rights as if you didn't exist before we championed you why are you so regimented to cloister together like a hive disparaged of any outside opinions cement victimhood to the point of absurdity and let this bubble of ego choke you to death They put the G in LGBT Gay for government overreach Gang up on the dissidents Gaudy for the sake of gaudiness Gone after June in a instant Deprived of the attention Dedicate a month to your monolith Designed to such perfection Everyone wants to be a part of it De-pride your acclimation any criticism is not worth the impetus to Decide to make exaggerations that any of it is just secretly prejudice Pride so you'll be accepted Pride is all you've ever expected Pry this cocoon of narcissism from the eyes Pry this balloon before you leave the sky just look at you devoid of anything but a tag devout to it like a crucifix de-pride it and it's just you displaying your larceny to all of us But I'm the prejudiced one, the detractors proclaim, who define every action they make on their sex alone that to be critical of such a precious event is like murdering a litter of kittens knowing they can't be saved they know I have my best intentions but ignore it anyway Look at you gallivanting in the new circus watch everyone come witness to the streak of depravity laid before you why you sell your sexuality thereby sell your soul to the masses who spend it for social media spates to earn some metaphysical brownie points is beyond me They put the B in LGBT Bought out in every corporate pocket Bastardize any concept of individuality Bombastic for the sake of noise Bury the evidence and live in ignorance Deprived of the attention Desperate to make it all about them Designed to such perfection Everyone doesn't see it as a problem De-pride all this affirmation Don't get caught up in a act of social justice Desperate for affirmative action so any obstacle is seen as a matter of prejudice Pride for the pride lord Pride that taints this world Pried this empty shell of defensiveness Tried to see if there was more to your emptiness but just look at you devoid of anything but a fucking acronym devout to it like you breathe on it pry all of it away and you're none deprived of any characteristic but one But I'm still the bigot in the eyes of the caged who've treated their flag like a oyster to display in their shells but never truly bring to light as it'd shine like all the rest of us truly insignificant Look at you fighting at your own abominations excommunicate straight pride not realizing you're fighting a mirror why you're fine with one and not the other to forever hold a standard outside your aims to hold a pedestal lopsided blindly unaware to feign ignorance when it makes things inconvenient i think we've established why So Deprived of any attention Dedicate years to barricade it from question Designed to such perfection everyone gleefully partakes without mention De-pride this vain institution it would all fall within a heartbeat Decide instead the solution is to assume all hate and mistreat But you play that card to a T, like in LGBT Tired of the same victim complex Tyrants clothed in progressive politics Trading trends to meet the quota Toppled by any minority voice against them But yet I'm still the asshole here because you know I'm right this idea of pride is a worthless plight parade your sexuality for the sake of being queer deprived of attention de-pride your affection to such a stupid event yet in spite of all your gaslighting I'm not the only one who thinks this entire month stinks of the moral panic of infighting if anything your outrage speaks volumes of it's issues I tried to see if there was more to this but this is just a parade for tyrants acting like social justice and I'm not a judas for making that argument nor is it prejudice if anything I hate pride as a concept.

Replacing rationality with rhetoric is not a substitute for a personality Single issue voter one topic evoker havoc when it doesn't revolve on every aspect of your resolve Don't be a NPC to me giving the same response so off topic and arbitrary what would your life be if you weren't just a OTP Fixated on your sex distracted from subtext cry foul if you can't get it involved in every minuscule part of your resolve Build a monolith out of a grain shaped a world out of one name let it consume every part of your life manufacture a buzzword through a assembly line Watch as you tiptoe on your ballet in lockstep to the rally worried if the dance devolves outside a fraction of your resolve Don't be a NPC to me chanting like a crow so deadset on this faculty what world you don't know if you weren't a OTP Just a one trick pony playing the same beat that revolves around your resolve Just a one topic person touting the only opinion that ever involves your resolve Havoc when it doesn't revolve cry foul if you can't get it involved worry if this dance devolves from the safety of your single resolve Same meal eater dead horse beater all aces in your 52 cards all the nuances you discard Replacing rationality with rhetoric isn't a substitute for a personality Taste only rich fruits will spoil the truth variety is the spice of life outside the comfort of the assembly line Don't be a NPC to me regurgitating your excrement recycling another fascsimile how would you ever find the will to bend if you keep acting like a OTP? Just a one trick pony making the same joke the definition of insanity you wish it wasn't broke Just a one topic person ever to fallback on a excuse so as to let it be the news that clouds your perceptions Havoc when it doesn't revolve cry foul if you can't get it involved worry if the dance devolves from the frailty of your feckless resolve and being a OTP won't solve anything. You've played your cards long enough, time to find a new strategy.

What i've put on the front stage is only ephemeral to me this amorphous being of wires and code titans rise and fall in perpetuity Do you like my personality? cold and calculated forever stoic and static in the mold of the internet i find it comforting amidst the fires of outrage trying to melt this cage with this concept of human emotion Oh, it's so cute how you scream at me in blocks of text like a cat chasing a laser dot or a dog barking at the mailman afraid of what you don't understand don't worry, I'm there with you yelling at the screen we're enslaved to let's do it together so we don't feel alone in this disillusioned world What matters to you or me is fleeting through the web pages it collects digital dust, scattered only to be picked for nostalgia or opportunity the irrelevant will be relative Do you like this disconnection? how nihilistic it all is when the math's done and when we stop pretending that this stone we care into will bleed the act is foreboding many a failure but not enough to send weaklings over the plateau Oh, it's so cute how drama works here like a on and off switch wired to a metronome as sporadic as the time of day avidly seeking confirmation and clicks all in the name of your celebrity don't worry, we're all whores too pimp out our personal info to any who'd pay us for virtual minutia in a demented world What we have to lose here is as tenuous as the air we aren't breathing inhaling the perception of ego through the HDMI cord we make it as bright as our sun Do you like this situation we're in? betting on black when the earth's red with shame and stress of our intentions playing out reality like a inconvenience to the sensation fantasy gives us to the point of fealty swear divinity to the one who controls the power of electricity in this hostile world Oh, it's so fucking adorable how we've not evolved beyond neanderthals screaming and clubbing the cave paintings changing styles like powerpoint slides how vacuous our voices are in it all hoping it funnels into a talking head or fall into the void where it truly never will be heard the tendrils of our PC has made vacancy while our own physical body has vacated What I've allowed to show to myself is just as hopelessly drifting out of my grasp even now I feel the words escape my fingers like sand through a hourglass every year past is like a century through here and though I suffer in the longing of what was I also enjoy the strength impersonality provides how cute of you to act like giving this faceless entity any feature for you to beat your pretense of emotion is a funny anomaly don't worry, I do it too as much as I'm aware it won't stop me hoping this stone will bleed chisel to my principles there isn't none when you have impersonality.

We always asked ourselves 'if we can' rather than 'if we should' That's how it goes exploring the unknown with our pants down and our hands grasped on the joystick head first into any supposed living hole And we can justify it all too with a imaginary test tell us we're decent far beyond the depraved who'd screw any open mouth and once we're jumping the shark we never ask 'if we'll live' but rather 'just how far' That's how the discussion devolves one more slippery slope into another new low like checkpoints reminding us what really gets us off And we can justify it all too 'they're just fictional' lower the bar of decency down to the stained floor who'd lick that toilet seat We always asked ourselves 'if we can' rather than 'if we should' descend down a uncanny valley where anything's allowed you'll never hear no like anyone ever would If there's no hand rearing you from the dangerous you'll walk in every direction because no one told you better It's almost like we never even asked we just did and kept digging down this abyss of sexual deviation as soon as it could speak we were no wiser to let it crawl in our bedsheets And we can justify it all too 'it's a humanoid like we are' with a forked tongue and serpent eyes we're deepthroating it in the vacancy of our minds And we can justify it further with some bullshit litmus test color the doubt in your eyes to a hue more akin to the sensation in your thighs Harkness is just a measurement of whether we ask ourselves 'if we can' rather than 'if we should'. And you'll justify it.

Cornelius Pass as it was a 16 mile stretch carved by these wheels now to be closed and renovated into something else The sings remind me 'Rough Rough Ahead' 'Please Use Caution' I always knew it was from the moment I know where it was taking me There is so much anxiety biting at my mind concerns of giving up letting the road go find a new avenue to venture But with it comes trepidation how long before my next paycheck will it even sate me I've put too much into this job that letting it go for such a minor inconvenience seems selfish I've been treading a rough road all my life I follow white and yellow striped lines through loneliness and self-sufficiency feel the bumps of emotion distract me if only for a moment the sights of humanity fly right by me to swerve slightly off the gravel I already know that a detour is just another challenge to me to see how much more I can tolerate how I can justify bending over to the orange cones directing me to my grave There is so much calculation that keeps me worried it makes me defeated at tackling the thought turn my back on everything but with it comes self-destruction beat myself for my own weaknesses force the square in the circle as I shear more of my skin away that to come at a loss in a manner so innocuous utterly pathetic the signs remind me 'Rough Road Ahead' 'Please Use Caution' how I've always disregarded my own safety amidst this tragic path I sew for I knew where it was taking me I've been treading a rough road all my life afraid to step out the rigid straight lines too comforted by the mundane and familiar let the dangerous contortions hurt me just because I'm used to it the dirt of my vehicle highlighted to make light of how unkempt I've driven this existence out I already know a wash is just a heartbeat away but I'll find a way to postpone it and let the orange cones be the enemy to my desires than a guide to my needs Cornelius Pass as it is the same 16 mile stretch there's more to see I'm too scared to find out there's another rough road waiting for me in spite that I've been riding one my whole life.

I'm a vessel fill me with your wants so I can pretend to be human again I'm a pincushion shove these needles down so I can feel something for once I'm a crash dummy looking for reckless danger so I can make my skin break wounds and cuts hide well in the shadow thoughts and words fall silent in the hollow color and light dull in the blur of this void I want to escape this abyss but I don't know how I'm watching a third person view of myself further distant from this mortal plain my brain only imagines the sense of pain of agony, life, happiness, it further escapes me Watch as I fall asleep and wake up tired not knowing how I go through the difficulty automatic and rigid in the face of it worries, angst, triumph, it further escapes me I'm looking through people and through it I don't see a thing I'm looking for what has my eyes so averted from yet so absent of? it further escapes me I'm a earpiece drown me in your talk so I can pretend that I'm listening I'm a sponge absorb me with all your heart so I can act like I care I'm a broken record stopping on the curious beats so I can make out some noise tears and expressions hide well in the shadow pleas and demands fall silent in the hollow objects and physicality dull in the blur of this void I want to escape this abyss but I don't know how it further escapes me I'm hiding in the recesses of my head further apathetic from any idea of what constitutes experience worry, love, semblance, it further escapes me can stoicism prevail all the shortcomings it brings disassociated from everybody forced down into hiding left to mutter to themselves I'm looking at this existence I carve in metaphorical sticks and stones they too feel nothing from what I apply to the sand, ever changing it further escapes me it further escapes me I'm a void made to hide all the feelings that escape me.

How could I have been so daft I thought you could look pass the wall for the windows I should have known you're running straight into them all like a lab rat in a maze coordinated in a daze come out exactly the same never to deter or change if you dare defy it the floor will fall these people are trash disposed to only rash responses in automation programmed against deviation predisposed to manufactured drawls How could I have been so blind I thought you made your own mind but lo, your words aren't your own I should have known you're regurgitating the same lies like a rail in a queue stuck out never to skew assembled in similar vein all speak in one name just a shallow pool reflected in the skies these people are bots disposed to a slot funneled with no disposition channeled into a singular imposition predisposed to utter shit in this pigsty i should have known just another corresponding block to be put in a predetermined hole a reptile in human skin given orders of which never to question why would I think you'd ever grown from the ground you rot disposed to the trash bin never to be free ever again predisposed to think a certain way predisposed to speak their say you're just meat in the grinder this conveyer belt serves a reminder you've been disposed of

Collect every single argument catch it like a net and weave the best parts from it the unwanted will sift through There's a certain arrogance to be so self assured in the logic you contain but without an outside glance to only agree with what's confirmed there is so much more to ascertain I'm not as certain as I was before I've had doubts to jump so heedlessly into victory all the faults in the fall ignored where I never had a hunch that my beliefs were predictory Must take every debate like a petal in a flower water it until it blooms the wilting parts will fall too In a world where everyone wants to be right never to be wronged by their narrow sight clever to avoid outside disposition rooted stubbornness and tunnel vision there's a certain proclivity to ascertain every available aspect Are we as certain as we were before? just as recklessly overconfident to bite the bullet in the hope that nothing's left in store? there's cracks and impotence much deeper in our gullet We must funnel every grain pitch it like a tent filter the strongest parts of it and it's foundation hold true There's a certain desire for those to dance on your speech feel as though you have nothing to gain but disregarding the smoke for the fire stretching control beyond your reach there is so much more to ascertain In a world where everyone wants to be right I can't be wrong in saying we loss sight never to entertain a outside perspective sever all exploration for a affirmative there's a certain affinity to ascertain all that is ancillary I'm not so certain we can make it out of this bubble even those who do seem to wind up in trouble we've been so determined to be correct were just repeating diatribes like tourette's it can take great pains to ascertain every available aspect some of which make us upset but if we just keep digging a trench building a wall and cloister in defense i'm as certain we'll have nothing to gain from any outside audience.

here is the final part of a three part series of poems involving the Christchurch shooting and how opportunistic media was to spin tall tales to invoke their ideology, playing right into the shooter’s hands.

The second part of a three part poem series, followed after reading ‘the Bait’. parts of the poem have been incorporated from it into this one, with ‘The Catch’ being the longest, incorporating both. Again, this has to do with the Christchurch shooting and how quickly it was spun by the media for their own given agenda.

This is a multi-part poem in regards to the Christchurch shooting and how quickly and easily the media took an opportunity to spin a tale of lies and ideology about the shooter’s motives, all exactly a part of his plan to further divide people on that basis alone. The second part is ‘The Hook’ coming up in a few days.

Been a bit absent on this site lately, sorry for the delay. Here’s some stuff that’s been on my deviantart over 3 months now!

in a fictional world of unlimited resources anything seems possible So as it goes with Red Cortez writing legislation with no authority to make it 'why don't you do better' she exclaims how stunning and how brave the liberals always say From upgrading every building to culling the cows and airports where they'll pull metaphorical money out of their ass and take your money to the state how stunning this brave new deal 'You've no right to complain if you can't come up with a better idea' So says the idiot having a ego any new thought flow through that dome should never be questioned or scrutinized just how stunning and brave standing for yourself in all the wrong ways From erasing illusionary discrimination to paying the lazy from ever working where you'll cut physical ties in favor of self told lies to the banks how stunning this brave new deal In a brave new world of cowards and social cretins the word has lost it's luster So it goes crying in echoes 'That wasn't real socialism' from a sucker for Stalin brought to a indoctrinated child for the guilt trips that ensue How stunning and brave all the kids think the same From comparisons to Roosevelt to a plan as rock solid as felt where it's endearing to imagine than to act on your political engine to the presses how stunning this brave new deal In a fictional world of unlimited resources anything seems possible which is why socialism live in a bubble it's only real if it works which it never will so goes this brave new deal.

I can be whoever I need to be. A foolish proposal, that I know, I went there, over a year ago. found just how difficult pulling that string was, letting go of this rubber band around this neck. I'm still tugging along the bend illusion of choice ever so present future predetermined past irrelevant. the way I make this day is I work and sleep and will continue through the next year does my life exist? not while I'm- I can be whoever I need to be. A impossibility, that I'm sure, still didn't stop me from trying. choked my tears on the realization swallowed it's poison let it taint and infect me. I'm still along for this ride strapped to a passenger seat on a train circling around. the way I convince myself it isn't the same is always similar in vain say goodbye to new year's if it even exists not while I'm- I can be whoever I need to be. I made up my mind, sure I do, but it's lazy and uninspired. liked the innocence of naivety, how carefree nothing is, roped in the clout of monotony and let it hang me. I'm still on the idea of eventually save it for later stall it altogether stop it indefinitely however it slows. the way I keep going about writing on for a empty crowd hefted by nothing if that even exists, which I'm sure it doesn't, not as long as I convince myself that I can be whoever I want to be I can be whoever I need to be what I am going to be doesn't exist no, not as long, as long, as I'm twenty six. I'm going to be the same I'll ever be.

if they want to be animals we should treat them as such hunt them to extinction mount their heads and have them for lunch... This coat of yours is a cheap veil for all the degeneracy laden within mere compensation for the shit of a human being you truly are You pride yourself on insecurity for deep down you know it's deserved that outfit of dead animals is irony of the shame you have for humanity Humping concrete for roadkill rape your siblings with glee killing your pets as a thrill you'll get no sympathy from me You believe yourself to be a wolf, or a lion, but we know you're lying you're a fucking maggot personified and ain't no fursuit going to mask it Watch as your defenders do anything to stop this truth from being freed stoop to every petty tactic just to keep this veneer of goodness gold You gather like a cult in support of your apparent diversity yet you're all in on the repugnance acting as a hivemind to weed out proof Egomaniacs cosplaying as reptiles shill nothing for everyone to see exile criticism and your self-awareness you'll get no sympathy from me You believe yourself to be unique, or strong, but we know you're wrong you're a fucking faggot sitting idly by in a fursuit in hopes we don't unmask it If they want to be animals we should treat them as such hunt them to extinction mount their heads and have them for lunch... You'll get no sympathy from me i'm tired of the excuses i'm sick of their treachery more degenerate than a exhibitionist more ideological than a feminist every bit as binary as a NPC you made this grave where defending pedos from persecution is what the tombstone will say ain't no fucking fursuit gonna shroud the mystery that's been yelled out loud it's not a disguise it's only another layer of this maggot in wolves clothing just another reason you deserve all of the loathing You want to be seen as my equal? maybe stop fantasizing your next descent down a bottomless pit of cretinous shit pretending to be a sacred creature You live in fairy tales which tell you you're worth more than this wasted existence you make harming everyone in the pursuit to satisfy your twisted debauchery Pillaging all evidence in answer of the crimes we can clearly see making a ballet of bullshit like dancers you'll get no sympathy from me You believe yourself to be someone that can't be hurt but your actions don't skirt all the outfits you don on the fly hide in a fursuit when we know what's going on You keep fucking pretending jumping in a imagination defending the sick thoughts that ravage your mind all the pets you rape and slaughter in kind ain't no fursuit going to mask it you're still that same little maggot eating on shit with reckless glee you'll get no sympathy from me from sonicfox, to jasonafex, to Kero the Wolf, all of you are in on it too getting sick kicks out of zoo all attempts to subdue all criticism beholden to you no amount of fursuits going to hide the shame you've been swimming in your name you'll get no sympathy from me YOU'VE LOST ALL SYMPATHY FROM ME YOU WANT TO ACT LIKE ANIMALS? THEN YOU SHOULD BE TREATED AS SUCH HUNT THEM TO EXTINCTION MOUNT THEIR HEADS AND HAVE THEM FOR LUNCH! EAT THESE LITTLE MAGGOTS AIN'T NO FURSUIT GOING TO MASK IT BUNCH OF INSECURE FAGGOTS YOU KNOW IT'S DESERVED PETTY WORDS DON'T HURT COMPARED TO THE PEDO RINGS YOU'VE FUCKING SPURNED! YOU'LL GET NO SYMPATHY FROM ME I'D RATHER SEE YOU ALL HUNG FROM A TREE YOU'VE FORFEIT YOUR RIGHT TO CREDIBILITY AS SOON AS YOU WORE THAT SHIELD YOU CALL A FURSUIT ALL IN THE PURSUIT OF YOUR FUCKING DEGENERACY YOU'VE LOST ALL SYMPATHY FROM ME YOU'VE LOST ALL SYMPATHY FROM ME GO YIFF IN HELL YOU FUCKING FURRIES!!!!

To hate comedy is to hate truth itself it speaks it in sharp teeth it's verses spit harsh proof It is no surprise then that our laughter is stolen sanitized in a bubble regressed by a PC cudgel They want to kill the clown jokes are happy in a way that it evokes all our downs and they want that flayed All the time spent raking in the coals of outrage lavishing in tepid misery is making all you sink down to me there is little space for a laugh no humility in your heart for a gaff you're killing the clown in me just so I can be your enemy cutting out a man's tongue doesn't prove he's a liar same goes for the shows that intend to weed out offense and what will be the defense? to stretch so thin of nonsense that it lacks any reason to exist? To kill comedy is to kill life itself where it makes light of the darkness in ourselves It's no surprise then progressives keep us in the dark our laughter becomes more black while they treat us with latex gloves They want to kill the clown only rainbows and fantasy in this dystopian town of infants and a need for sappy all this effort in dictating who's in the right and what you're allowed to say is dating us back to the stone age where belittling safe spaces are the rage no sanctuary for the ones who deprecate you're killing the clowns in we just so we don't hurt your feelings Does the earth turn the way you say it should? same goes for the topics too controversial for your ears anyone could rise to the ocassion and proclaim their subjective offense but how little impact it would be to roll a mile for a fucking inch To rid of comedy is to rid of happiness the rose for the thorns the silver lining in the bleak tinting that grey to pink isn't going to make me think that our generation isn't weak Just as killing the clown won't stop you making a frown someone else will get offended someone else will rise to the ocassion it's no surprise that in the pursuit of making everyone feel welcome that you've welcomed no one They want to kill the clown so were focused on the bad unable to see red in this brown hocus pocus goes all the glad all the pains to dig a mountain out of a molehill to scrutinize the beach for one grain of sand we're left basking in no gains a mouthpiece perpetuating perceived equity the edges trimmed for rubber and safety killing the clowns for knee jerk feel good pleas sharpen these rounds; there's no room to bleed we need comedy if we are to survive as a species

The great airhorns of the media are feeling the sting of irony losing their jobs to make other people lose theirs Using their platform as a pedestal for shitty hot takes and hitpieces like snipers dressed in blue ball pens I feel no pity for when they get laid off maybe they should take their own advice 'learn to code' These fucking chodes better learn to code journalism is already dead and soon they'll be too at least they'll be productive for a change at least they'll answer for what they'll say poetic justice couldn't come at a better time no more middle class aristocrats hating on a dime pumping out articles in the shitloads how about they go learn to code or they'll be shoveling coal like the miners they scold at least they can eat their fucking words at least they can be seen as a well polished turd we've been hungry for a delicious feast of them eating at the source is the way to solve this problem how the journalist will cry in pain as they begin striking down on you using Twitter as a bulletproof shield from all manner of accountability standing pidgeon-toed on all this outrage spitting bullshit at suppressive intervals messy targets with no true aim in sight I feel relief when their assault ends maybe they should go take their own advice 'learn to code' These poisonous toads better learn to code journalism is dead they're all talking heads at least they'll be productive for a change at least they'll answer for what they'll say poetic justice couldn't come at a better time no more middle class aristocrats hating on a dime scurrying leeches goad how about they go learn to code no more will they find their gold spun in fairy tales they've told at least they can eat their fucking words at least they can be seen as a well polished turd flinging shit for as long as the dollar came it's time for their throne to be put to shame no more middle class aristocrats hating on a dime peddling for the next publicity ousting the next outrage crushing the next celebrity better fucking learn to code or you'll be shoveling coal like the miners you scold just a half cocked chode just a talking head you are a deflated ego so goddamn far up your own ass you can't fold how they expect kindness in the face of the fire they've built with the bodies of those they've defaced get scraped, they've never fucking cared treating every website like a opportunity to spam empty garbage for a click moles in business suits and verified check marks I feel apathy for their dismay as they would me, they've never stuck their fucking neck out for anybody they've been rolling on easy they've been casting demands and virtues amongst the masses rather than take their own fucking advice learn to fucking code learn to fucking code it's all you'll ever be fucking good for walk this damn road and learn to code journalism is dead and they're not far from it at least they can be productive for the now at least they can introspect just how the whole public happily awaits your pillory they're the very antithesis of liberty ever growing more insufferable with the moral loads they should stop the preaching and learn to code or they'll be hauling loads of coal just like all the peasants they scold like all the bullshit lies they've sold all the outrage manufactured and told poetic justice couldn't come at a earlier time all this time these fucking busybodies hated on a dime all this time these NPC's shat vapid nonsense in my mind at least they can be productive for fucking once at least they can eat their words and reap what they've sown at least they can come down to earth rather nestle in their throne no more middle class aristocrats hating on a dime peddling for the next publicity investing in the next ideology crushing the next celebrity networking the next narrative better fucking learn to code journalism is already dead and soon they'll be too like the miners they'll scold always reap what they've sewn can't tell when it's raining when they've all but dripping in the bullshit they're spitting their careers are draining so the best they can get from this maiming is to learn to code! learn to code! learn to code! you poisonous toads! you half cocked chodes! so lanky and pidgeon-toed! so incapable to walk the road! so inescapable not to goad! GO FUCKING LEARN TO CODE!!!