On Parasocial Relationships: a quandary

There are things that are timely. Timely parallels that make us think. I find as the weather cools off, I love to go out at night and just piss freely into the night air, because there is no fear of being seen, no fear of offending, no fear of getting piss on anybody. Somebody could be hiding in the hedge, but if you come sneaking up to the hedge, getting pissed on is (in some places) the least thing you need fear. Other things are timely: I have a reaction to this pearl clutching about decorum and the moral high ground and let me just tell you: decorum is the tool of oppression. They tell victims to be easy, to go gently, to not stir up the pot. Lets not act too hastily, my dear, the guy has always been nice to me and after all, he's the President! If you bring these allegations to the public awareness, they might damage his JOB PROSPECTS so here's a fucktonne of money let's just avoid this whole unseemly business, shall we?

The word sigil... has a long history in Western magic. The members of the Golden Dawn were perfectly familiar with it (″combining the letters, the colours, the attributions and their Synthesis, thou mayest build up a telesmatic Image of a Force. The Sigil shall then serve thee for the tracing of a Current which shall call into action a certain Elemental Force″) and it was used in the making of talismans. The sigil was like a signature or sign of an occult entity.^[4]T

Well fuck a bunch of that fucking noise. If you see a bad actor, don't be a broken stair. Say something and say it fucking loud and plain so we can end this MF cycle of intergenerational abuse. 

The same parasocial relationship I have with Trump that I had with Zak: also a manipulative abuser from what i have heard and experienced. I turn and find a sinister intruder at my very pleasant picnic... again... I hustle the motherfucker out  HIT THE ROAD YOU VACUOUS NASTY CUNT...again... I turn and there he is, his dumb rich face and loud fucking mouth leering at me and my friends the way that certain songs on the radio can be cool once or twice but then you’re all O SHIT ITS HOOTIE AND THE BLOWFISH AGAIN LEMME TURN THIS B OFF and you turn the channel and HOLD MY HAND but like it’s titties and blood, or like the windswept entitled loud fake hair of a tantruming 80 year old man who just knows he's right he went to all the best schools LIKE ALL THE all the fucking time on every fucking channel until psychically and spiritually and magickally in a sigil sense like Austin Ausman Spare sense I’m punching his mouth until he’s not in my head and every so often someone comes along and like O MAN HES ALWAYS BEEN NICE TO ME or HES JUST TRYING TO DO HIS JOB or NANCY PELOSI IS JUST AS BAD

But the guy on the radio is like UP NEXT DID YOU HEAR ABOUT VORNHEIM THAT SHIT IS THE BOMB or ZAK IS POLLING AT 73% FAVORABLE SO YOU SHOULD GET ON HIS MF KICKSTARTER LOSER THIS FUCKING BOOK HAS GOOOOOOLD LEAAAAAAAF LETS GO

In my head, some rococo nightmare, octopii, tridents, plunging spears, splayed fig leaves, alabaster, gold leaf, veiny cocks like marble, jewel-encrusted toilets, tiddies splayed widely in some makeup-encrusted mockery of intimacy and youth and romance and fecundity

He comes down the golden escalator, sniffing, high on his own power, encased in an aura of psychotropic alkaloids, giddy with what he has done, with what he can do, the crowd fucking loves him. he doesn't give a fuck for any of them, except that they spread the word and cheer his name. he would just as soon shit on you as look at you, or casually murder your whole family so as to quicken a favorable real estate deal. 

It’s like HOW MANY TIMES CAN I MUTE AWARENESS OF THIS MOTHERFUCKER WHO REPRESENTS A MANIFESTATION OF EVERYTHING I LOATHE BEFORE I JUST COME OUT SWINGING Not necessarily his lamentable ideas that were at issue (gradually revealed to be the underpinnings of malignant narcissism it is alleged but never proved because the evidence has vaporized somehow and noone comes forward) but their OMNIPRESENCE and i watch in horror as otherwise sensible people who i like nod YES TRUMP YES TRUMP GIMME THAT GOLD LEAF AND THAT ABSOLUTELY UNPLAYABLE BULLSHIT ARTHAUS GRANT MORRISON PROTOFASCIST BULLSHIT GOBBLEDYGOOK

Zak was a sinister force in my opinion and an active part of the dismantling of a nice community I enjoyed, but Trump is infinitely worse because he has real power and no redeeming features whatsoever. Zak is a talented artist, a powerful magician, a superhuman android, and (some friends have told me) he was always nice to me.  Well, not me, he was a bit of a cunt to me personally. But to them. But I react the same way that all people who have experienced trauma react when they get that smell of danger from something of a certain type the heart rate quickens eyes dilate breathing deepens and your LETS GO MUSCLES get up and got up and went and suddenly, suddenly, you're typing at someone at 3:00AM like JESUS FUCK PLEASE I CANT HANDLE TO HEAR OR THINK OF THIS MANIAC ANYMORE PLEASE FUCK OFF OR I WILL DESTROY EVERYTHING it's a kind of psychic pressure I don't imagine is easy to convey well

I felt like that all the time at the end of G+ and I feel like that all the time with Trump’s wannabe despotic thrashings and hilariously karmic comeuppance going down right in front of us. This feeling of disbelief like HOW DID IT GET THIS BAD? WHY DIDNT SOMEBODY SAY SOMETHING

Now: is the problem my parasocial relationship with the imagos of these villainous persons?, or my inability to protect myself from intrusions? perhaps: My lack of mindfulness about controlling my reaction? Or is it that these insidious motherfuckers have gamed their respective systems so that they are sometimes literally unavoidably present in my otherwise happy-go-lucky headspace? Something deep in the code of social networks makes this worse sound thinking people must agree, yes, but I argue that people ought not to be able to get authority by having bot networks or friend networks increase the “validity” of their ideas by raising the rate of circulation of their ideas which is definitely not the same thing.

Both those motherfuckers understand these concepts at the bottom and that’s why they have perverted our micro- and macro-communities and there’s the rub. When this trying time has passed, if it passes, recognize that conflict of ideas is valuable and can be productive. Conflict for the sake of page hits and money is a scam and how empires are eroded. The difference in knowing how to game the game for profit and playing the game for the sake of play and goodwill toward fellowmen and -women

Don’t fucking believe me? Watch the fucking news. The Empire mirrors the decrepitude of the Emperor until finally everybody bows out - THIS IS NO LONGER PRODUCTIVE SHUT IT DOWN 

Godspeed to Justice for all motherfucking abusers and oppressors and gatekeepers and those who pervert power for their own interests, even if they have gold toilets or went to Yale or claim to be republicans or anarchists or I don’t know just fuck the whole thing. You may say YOU HAVE CONFLATED THESE POOR PEOPLE but yes, it's my fucking website and should I prove to be mistaken in the grand scheme of things, I will retract my comments and apologize and please sir to recognize this is my ART and art is unassailable and beyond critique when it's making an artistic point and nobody can fucking question me: who the fuck do you think you are you little miserable nobody? I'm an artist. An artiste. Look at all the gilding on this page: that's MF art you peon nobody your opinion is shite. I'm drawing attention to useful parallels in the public personae of popular figures with whom I imagine I have an adversarial parasocial relationship and so this is just pissing in the dark and shouldn't be construed as impacting any REAL people, only the hilarious images they present in the ideosphere

Joesky Tax: go fuck yourself, no offense it’s not that kind of rant and I have no interest in salving your wounded ego if this pertains to you but. Man, I was going to talk about sigils and Austen Osman Spare and how to work the works INSIDE THE WORKS and maybe i ought to lay off the covfefe and take my meds, but I got sidetracked. Something about sigils. Sigils. You should check that shit out. It is deep magick and even holds up D&D in a way: you dream a thing and it becomes a real thing for you by gradually taking shape in the world, and the squiggles are there as a reminder until you forget what they were for and why your lovely emerald city situation turns into a bedraggled, rotten, hollow mess and if only we could have foreseen this lamentable situation

Totally not related, here is my anti-trump/anti-cultist rant but like i hung Zak's Trumps dumb persona on it because he was an easy target for me at the time. I freely offer it to you to turn into something for 5e or (better yet) Call of Cthulhu d20. it is chock full of unplayable Grant Morrison artsy-fartsy bullshit which would really make your players THINK and they could jerk off to it in private thinking about how great I am and my bevy of scantily clad sex-workers and how MAN i wish I knew those girls in High School but now I am successful they flock to me like a flock of heavily made-up vestals. 'Cause ART and ART is foremost and fuck goodwill in the community. Also, fuck trump and his whole crew of swindlers

Once again, I'm not attacking REAL people here, only the images of people. I'm sure he's a great guy in person. Plenty of people have said so! A couple of ladies and kooks have said he's a maniac, but nobody listens to them. They're nobody.

Black Lives Matter. Trans Lives Matter. Trans Rights Are Human Rights. Love is Love. The meek shall inherit the earth. Long live the fighters. power to the people long live the king the king is dead

The Otherworldly Weirdness of My Dreamland Florida

I'm not running anything, in terms of RPGs, lately. I am taking part in my buddy Eli's over-the-Zoom Ravenloft game. Is it just me or is Ravenloft lack a little bit o' bite of late? Granted, I haven't really gotten too much into the thing, yet. We're only one session in and we got beat up pretty badly in this haunted house.

The Black Lagoon - pretty near my dad's place, where I took the 3rd oath

For me, the Florida of my Youth borders directly into The Dreamlands. I often have these repetitive dreams of Florida, specifically the little parts called Miami Springs, Hialeah, and Coral Gables. There are the long tracts of nothing between Gainesville and Tallahassee, endless sprawling suburbs of Spanish-tiled rentals outside of Orlando. The dorms at University of Florida and Tallahassee which like in life seemed to me to be deathly quiet at times and spiritually empty. Often, I am in the plaza outside a Biology/Science/Botany building that doesn't really exist but might be an amalgamation of the ones i knew at Colorado State University in my time, there. I frequent simulacra of highways 826 and 836 in Miami where I learned to drive, and when I lean out the window in the howling wind and rain, I can see spiraling crypts dropping away into nothingness, rainwater pouring in. There is a version of Saint Augustine (the city, not the guy) which is stately and somber and very expensive and there I buy cast-off surplus military body-armor and scanning equipment, on my way past tourists bathing in lukewarm inlets, to the palm-coated beaches where trunks of gold coins wash up every night. Let's not tell the tourists, shall we? And don't get me started on the endless weed-choked canals where turtles, snakes, and alligators thrive and maybe we shouldn't inner-tube float down these, but we rarely lose people to the fauna in my dreams? The water is crystal clear and ice cold like the various hidden springs that my dad used to drag us to on summer weekends. Old American "indian" names. Micosoukee. Alachua, Micanopy. Ichetucknee. Apopka. I never really thought about it before. The respect that Floridians have for the indigenous people of the area is not quite reflected in the ubiquity of the names they've stolen.

When I have amassed enough snippets of morning-memory to commit them to "paper" then I have, in the past, made little settings out of them for DnD-alikes. Remind me to insert the links here for the stuff on RPGNow/DTRPG or whatever. There is often a junked-out booze-fueled armada settlement of boats, beaches where space-trash, treasure and pot-bales have washed up, long and crystal-clear swimming pools with very high diving boards, lots of undead, junk shops and spanish moss dangling from sprawling oaks. It's not unpleasant for a Dreamland, and the peninsula stretches out practically forever and there are mountains and caverns that are not filled in with water 

So anyways, Florida Guy is a subrace and there's a couple examples. A sort of mean-spirited drug-abuser type, and another couple of ones which I like better. I haven't tracked down all of them, yet. Of course, memes being what they are Florida Guy is a monster, too, and probably a religion in DnD (Chaotic Neutral, of course). LET THE OUTSIDERS THINK WHAT THEY LIKE. I think one was done by Alice Witchfire, and another by Dungeon Malcontent and another by Eternall Newbie etc etc

https://www.reddit.com/r/DnD/comments/hyd7ep/oc_florida_man_human_variant/

https://www.reddit.com/r/UnearthedArcana/comments/haxd78/the_floridian_a_legendary_race_of_chaostouched/

https://dungeonmalcontent.tumblr.com/post/186748779847/overpowered-and-ridiculous-the-floridian-human

I picked "Florida Guy" as my subrace for "human" in this Ravenloft game, modeled loosely on myself, my family members and this guy Ellis from Left for Dead 2, and the Scout from Team Fortress 2 but not from New York, or Boston or wherever.

Anyways, I ought to codify a little more this lush corner of Dreamland and make some money off'n it. May be best to leave it there, though.

EDIT:

Here, of course, is a link to my DTRPG publisher page where you may find some of these terrible DIY documents

Biltmore Pool, Coral Gables

Venetian Pool, also Coral Gables

The Villas, Miami Springs, frequent childhood haunt of mine long after its prime

my dad's house has an unearthly oak with amazing Spanish Moss but this isn't it

There''s not really any mechanics for tubing in OSR or DnD5e. Hmm.

She overlooks the (incongruous) pits in which the dead are enshrined in Dream-not-St-Augustine of mine

God/Arjuna/Y*Weh/Zeus/Poseidon/Aphrodite/Ba'al/Aar Bless the People of the Gulfcoast, speaking of which.